#Wipe Out MS Puzzle

[lexxierave]

When Fate Intervenes- tasm!Peter Parker x Reader Part 2

[Part 1]

Peter arrived first, not knowing there would be a second party to this whole ordeal.

The office was not too big and had a cozy feeling to it. There were books filling the couple of bookshelves lining two of the walls. A comfy chair and a couch sat in the center of the bookshelves. 

On the other side of the office there was a desk with a couple more books, papers, and plants. Sitting at the desk was Peter's psychics teacher, Mr. Hertz.

He was a man in his fifties. The grays of his hair were showing through the browns, more so on the side of his head. There were lines on his forehead from thinking so much and some by his eyes and face from his smile.

"Sorry I'm late Mr. Hertz traffic was terrible getting back here from New York." Peter rushed his words out.

"Relax, Mr. Parker. Though your attendance is one of the reasons we're here today you're actually not the last person to the party." Mr. Hertz told him. Gesturing for him to take a seat.

Peter gave a puzzled look as he sat down in the chair in the corner. Not sure what his teacher meant until you threw yourself into the room in your hurry.

"I'm. so. sorry." You managed to get out in between breaths. "I'm. late."

"Yes, you are Ms. Y/l/n. A common link between you and Mr. Parker here." Mr. Hertz pointed out bringing out attention to the other body in the corner of the room.

You both managed weak hellos when your eyes met. Not sure why the other was in your meeting, other than common attendance issues. But if that was the case you knew of a couple other students that should be here as well.

"I'm going to make this plain and simple. I'm going to do somewhat of an experiment with the two of you in exchange for wiping your attendance problems for the semester." Mr. Hertz began

The premise seemed promising. You could definitely do with a clean slate. 

Peter was thinking the same thing and he did love a good experiment just us ones that didn't involve himself as a guinea pig. After his Spider-Man bit and the fight with the Lizard he made sure to be extra cautious around new science ventures.

"What kind of experiment? Like test subjects? Guinea pigs?" Peter started rambling off words seeing if anything stuck.

"Oh no, dear boy. Nothing that drastic. Merely to see if I can get two bright students to their full potential. See you and Ms. Y/l/n are both some of my brightest students. I know because I've seen Ms. Y/l/n help students understand the reading or homework and I've seen your homework and grades Mr. Parker. " Mr Hertz went on to explain, " but somewhere the two of you are lacking in some part of the course work. I want the two of you to get together after school and figure out what it is and how to make it better. I expect to see the results of your findings by the end of the semester."

But Peter and you let out a groan, both of you not having the time to babysit someone with the workload you already have. 

You took a glance at Peter before thank Mr. Hertz for this opportunity and turning to leave.

It took a moment for Peter's brain to catch up to what was going on around him. He was still trying to figure out how he could juggle this with everything else in his life. Last thing he needed was to add a civilian into his life. Not again.

He saw you walk out the door and knew he needed to talk to you about getting out of this.

"Hey wait!" Peter called out, after saying goodbye to Mr. Hertz.

You turn around in the hallway to see the guy from the meeting, Peter, standing there. 

"Peter, right?" You questioned when he caught up with you.

"Yeah and you're y/n?" He asked

"Yep. Can I help you? Look, I'm tired and just want to get home." You asked a little quick and slightly biting, the weight of the day getting to you. Before mentally facepalming yourself. This guy did nothing to you and for all you knew was just stuck in the same lane boat ride as you were. But you also didn't want to make friends, you just wanted to get by and try to manage your life.

"Look, I'm sorry. Did you need something from me?" You reattempted your first question.

"Yeah. Yeah. Umm…I just wanted to see if we could get a date set to meet up for this." Peter stumbled a bit over his words. 

"I'm not gonna lie, I'll have to figure something out. I already have a very tight schedule as it is and I'm not sure how I'm going to fit this into any of it." You explained to the man.

He wasn't prepared for your attitude towards the whole situation. Never expecting you to feel the same way about this thing.

"Oh. Yeah. Cool. Just let me know when is good for you. Guess I'll see you in class." Peter said as you nodded and gave him a small wave before heading out the building.

Something about you intrigued him but he shook his head. He made a promise never to get close to anyone again for their own good.

And it seemed like you were on the same page. Both of you needed this to work but without putting in the work. If only you could figure out how to manage that.

Peter took off in the other direction on his skateboard itching to get back to patrol. While you headed back home to study for the remainder of the night. 

Both of you putting this meeting in the way back of your minds. Because what are the odds you'd actually need someone like Peter Parker in your life or he'd need you?

Part 3

#tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield #peter parker #tasm! image #spider-man #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker #spider man x reader #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter imagine #peter b parker x you #peter b parker x reader #andrew garfield x reader #andrew!peter parker #andrew!spiderman #andrew!peter x reader #when fate intervenes

[woniebae]

EARN IT

Pairing: teacher!sunghoon x teacher! fem reader

Warnings: fluff, smut, oral sex (m), usage of sex toys (vibrator), protected sex (practice safe sex), choking, both pair are a switch, 18+, MDNI, read at your own discretion (pls don't hesitate to tell me if i need to add one)

Synopsis: You and your highschool sweetheart are both teachers at the school where you both once studied. Both of you are pretty popular among the students and called you as the 'visual couple'. Your students would flirt on you from time to time, girls would on hoon too. What happens when your partner did something, which leads you to punishing him at his very own office?

wc: 1k

A/n: Here it is! Thank you for waiting. This is not proofread so expect some typos and errors. Sorry if it did not reach your expectation, school has been stressing me out these days and i really want to finish this one so i'm sorry in advance if its bad. Anyways, enjoy! (Don't forget to send me an ask on what u guys think)

Ps. was not able to add some of the added scenes

"babe can you please get me an underwear? I forgot to bring one" you asked your lover who is currently brushing their teeth at the moment beside the shower you're in. You heard an okay and began drying yourself off with the towel you did not forget to bring. Wiping yourself, you did not notice your lover arriving from getting the underwear you forgot to bring.

Sunghoon on the other side did not let this chance go as he brought the underwear he bought the other day

A knock on the glass captured your attention, looking up, only to see your partner holding your underwear, face pressed up on the glass making a weird face, you punched the glass where his face is placed making you laugh as you watch your partner lean back with a frown adorning his pretty face, rubbing his nose in pain.

You opened the glass door and took your underwear from your lovers hold and wore it immediately not even bothering to examine it because time is running

why does the underwear kind of look unfamiliar?

It feels weird too

You just shrugged it off and thought nothing of it, not knowing what your partner has in store for you

“okay class, that is all for today, and please do not forget to study for your exam tomorrow” groans and whines are heard from your students eliciting a laugh from you

“Stop whining everyone, if you listened and payed attention to my class, it will be a piece of cake to answer all the questions” you smiled, examining your students

Someone raised their hand and asked, “If i did well, will you go on a date with me, Ms. L/N?” before you can answer their question, 

“Sorry kid, but Ms. L/N is taken” you looked at the owner of the voice and caught sight of your boyfriend of 8 years which is also your co-teacher at the school you're teaching at. You guys dated around teenage years and stuck throughout the years until you finished college, even landed a job at where your story began

cheers echoed around the room from your class because of your boyfriend's statement

“Mr. Park, what did you and Ms. L/N do at valentines day?” one of your class teasingly asked which made the whole class silent, anticipating for your lovers response

your lover looked at you and smirked, “I won’t tell you guys what we did, but, I can assure you, we loved and enjoyed what we did” 

some of the class let out some fake gags and some are whistling, even cheering

you rolled your eyes and reminded the class once again about the upcoming exam

Your class for the day ended and now you are walking side by side your lover at the hallway, and as usual, students are greeting you and sunghoon on the way which you both greeted back with a smile

“baby” you called

“hmm?” 

“what time is the meeting later?” you questioned, looking at him only for you to see a confused puppy

"Wait, we have a meeting later?" Your boyfriend looks so puzzled you can only laugh at his cluelessness, "you little shit, here I thought you're the responsible one, guess I was wrong about that" you teasingly nudged him, your boyfriend only scratched his nape in embarrassment, smiling sheepishly

Your walk with him ends at some point as students approach him about some project they had. before saying your farewells, he kissed your cheek and whispered, ”see you at the meeting later” a smirk adorning his pretty face, catching a mischievous glint on his eyes, 

he is planning something and I’m not sure if I would love this one

Now what did your lover do for him to be tied at his swivel chair?

He thought it was fun to prank you with a panty vibrator at the meeting with all of the teachers, only to lead him from the situation he is in now

"p-please baby, i won't do it again just please please please let me cum, hmm? I'll be a good boy i swear"

"Do you think what you did out there was cool, hoon?" you grabbed your partners jaw making him face you. Looking at the way he looks right now makes you wanna baby and just cuddle him, but, reminiscing what he did awhile ago, you dismissed the previous thought,

"get ready baby, you ain't cumming 'til i said so"

You sat down at the chair in front of your whimpering boyfriend, the panty vibrator wrapped around the tip of his dick at the lowest setting, making your boyfriend cry in pain, hungry for more

"Do you want to cum, baby? Do you think you deserve it?" his whimpers and cries are the only ones replying to you, making you annoyed at your boyfriends ignorance

You played with the vibrators pace making him let out a cry

"N-no i don't deserve it, i'm so s-sorry for thinking that playing with you at the meeting would be fun, I deserve to be punished" sunghoon cried, preparing himself for the punishment he deserved, he thought

You stood up, unbuttoning the blouse you're wearing, revealing the matching bra of the panty vibrator that was once worn by you that is now around your boyfriends leaking hard cock

"Since you admitted your mistake, i'll let you cum"

"but, before that," you smirked, thinking of what you're about to do next

"you should earn it, my love"

"h-how can i earn it, mommy?" Asked your baby

You set the vibrators pace at the highest speed, making your boyfriend cry at the pleasure his cock is feeling, making his body grow hot at the intense feeling his lower body is experiencing

Sunghoon is now crying at this point, big tears flowing out of his pretty eyes, cheeks burning, and lips quivering

"mhm i'm cumming m'cumm- nooo i was so close" whining at the ignored orgasm he was about to feel eliciting a laugh from you

you removed the panties around your boyfriends hard cock and straddled his lap, legs on each side of his hips, making your skirt hike up around your waist revealing your glistening wet pussy, making your lovers cock twitch, which didn't go unnoticed by you

"Cum when i said so, understood?" He nodded,

Leaning in, your lips touched his swollen ones from biting it too much at your previous activity. You cupped his jaw both hands, caressing his cheeks and wiping his almost dried tears, kissing him passionately.

You kissed a lot of times, even memorised the way it moves around your mouth yet kissing him always feels like its the very first time you guys kissed, butterflies in chaos around your stomach, and feeling warm all over

You raised your hips and held the cock in front of you, positioning his member on your slit and sank down immediately eliciting a moan from both you and your lovers mouth

You felt warm liquid inside you the moment you sank down

Sunghoon lowered his face down out of embarrassment, felt his thighs shaking underneath you as he came

You moved up and down at a really fast speed making your boyfriend move so much at the overstimulation and sensitivity he's feeling at the moment

You're holding unto you boyfriends bare shoulders, admiring his chest, neck, and lower abdomen covered in red and purple marks

At the pace you're moving, uncontrollable loud moans are coming out of your boyfriends mouth, you kissing and sucking his neck adding some new friends of the marks you gave him

"b-baby ahh m'cumming again please don't stop" sunghoon cried

"hold it in"

"p-please no c-can't ahh" tears are falling freely out of your lovers pretty eyes, making you soften and even moved at a faster pace making you shudder, feeling your lovers thighs shiver uncontrollably,

"cum, baby"

Sunghoon let out the loudest moan as he released his cum inside you, even shivered at the intense euphoric feeling spreading through his body,

You came next, biting unto his shoulder to silence your moans, making your lover move around so much at the sensitivity his body is feeling from you still moving to ride out your high

You stopped moving, both of you panting from the orgasm you guys had.

"that. was. one of the best orgasm i've ever had, my love" you looked up to your fucked out boyfriend, making the both of you let out a giggle

"you are a mess, love." you run your fingers through his slightly wet hair, revealing his forehead, pressing a kiss on it

"mhm" humming a reply as he closed his eyes, savoring the feeling of your soft lips on his forehead

"i love you, my pretty y/n, soo much" he smiled, adoring you as your expression mirrored his

"i love you too, my big baby"

you kissed the tip of his nose eliciting a giggle out from the both of you once again

🏷️: @jay-durian @rielleluvs @andromedawillburryyou @yuakagi @ventilii @en-cityzen @nyfwyeonjun @abdiitcryy @donghoonie-3 @myinfinistan @yoshileamiyey @ilikesunghoon @lilacboba @bunhoons @sunghoonskitten @rpkth @markleeisdabestdrug @astra-line @jngsngie @sunshine-skz @jiawji

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #earn it

[dearmailman]

Hi there Eddie I have a specific request if you don’t mind! (My caregiver is out of town rn 🥲)

Cg:Howdy

Little:Wally

Anyways, Wally is upset that Barnaby is out of town and doesn’t have a caregiver, so he refuses to regress and becomes touch starved, fussy, and messes up his sleep schedule, Howdy notices as he is a caregiver for other neighbors and tries to ease Wally into regressing and once Wally does, he cries and goes fully into babyspace.

Extra details: Wally has a apple plush he keeps as Barnaby gave it to him before leaving. Howdy is fully prepared with little gear (bottles, stuffies, blankets, toys, little clothes)

Thanks Eddie!-🐞

Howdy heaves up a crate with two arms while wiping his brow with another. He’s only been open a few hours, and the afternoon sun is bright and hot while he restocks the bodega. Setting the crate down in the back, he glances at the clock. It’s nearly 1 p.m. and he instinctively startles, realizing Barnaby and Wally’s daily hotdog run is nearing. He’s headed to the counter to check the dogs on the rollers, when he remembers that Barnaby is away this week on a visit to his mother, Ms. Beagle. He chuckles at himself for worrying, rolling his eyes and picking up a dust rag, going about his business.

But just as he’s moving on, the door swings open slowly. So slowly that the bell hardly dings. He glances over and can’t see anyone over the shelves, clearing his throat to call to whichever of his shortest neighbors it may be.

“Hiya, welcome to Howdy's! Who goes there?”

Rather than an answer, he hears a vaguely uncomfortable sounding, frustrated noise. He raises an eyebrow with a smile, already expecting mischief. However, when he rounds the corner he instead finds Wally, staring very hard at the rotating hotdogs.

“Oh, it’s you shrimp! What’s the matter?” He leans down and sets a hand on Wally’s shoulder, offering him a smile. Now Wally is always smiling of course, but strangely Howdy doesn’t feel smiled at at all.

“Oh. Hello, Howdy.” Wally is usually quite reserved in his reactions, yet right now there’s a cold sting of misery on his lips. “I came to get… I don’t know,” he sighs, looking away towards the hotdogs again. When his other arm shifts, Howdy can see a small plush toy in his hands - an apple with a cute smiling face and tiny brown feet.

“Well now, who’s that?” Howdy smiles, pointing.

“I don’t know,” Wally drones, looking at the toy like he’s just realized he’s holding it. “They don’t have a name yet.” He stares at it very hard, gripping it in both hands. Howdy blinks as he notices Wally’s hands are shaking. In fact, none of him looks very put together at all. Loose hairs fly out of his pompadour, his sweater is wrinkled, and there’s small bags under his neighbor’s eyes.

“Er, hey buddy- Y’ don’t look so well!” He holds both of his shoulders and turns him to face him, checking him over. “Are you alright?”

In lieu of an answer, Wally leans forwards woozily and places his forehead on Howdy’s chest. Howdy let’s him, concern outweighing awkwardness. Wally’s small hands grips into his sleeve tightly.

“I want Barnaby,” he says, nearly a whine but never reaching that level of passion. “I want him home, why does he have to leave, ever?”

“Wally, ah, he’s visiting his family! He needs to check on his mom now and again, you know he loves her!”

“I want him here,” Wally’s foot stamps softly, oddly childlike for him. That tiny movement puts together a puzzle in Howdy’s brain. Barnaby has mentioned it to him before, Wally going into a more childlike mindset for comfort or for fun. Judging by his pouty nature and sleepless appearance, even if he isn't yet regressed, he certainly needs it.

“Wally, might be an odd question- Are you feeling, er- Small? At all?”

“….No,” Wally lies.

Howdy crosses all of his arms, smirking lightly. “Is that so?”

“I am not. I don’t want to be.”

“Shrimp, it’s alright, really! I've babysat Frank before a couple dozen times, I know my way around age regression! You’ll be fi-“

“No, Howdy. I want Barnaby. He is the only one that can take care of me.” Wally’s fingers grip into the tiny apple toy, and he stares down at it, looking almost confused. “He gave me them and told me to keep myself safe. I can’t. I can't sleep and it feels like no one will ever hug me again.”

“Oh golly, Wally,” Howdy chuffs and leans down, all four arms held open. “I can give you one if you like - I’ve certainly got the arms for it!”

Wally looks him up and down, almost suspiciously. But then he deflates, a small sigh leaving him. He leans into Howdy’s arm, and Howdy wraps him tightly in a four armed embrace, gently applying grounding pressure to his friend's shoulders and back. Wally melts slightly, gripping onto Howdy back.

Howdy chuckles and pulls back to talk to him, only to take pause when he sees Wally’s scrunched up, teary face. "Hey- hey, hey Walls, what's wrong?"

Wally just closes his eyes and shakes his head, hiding his face again. Howdy tuts softly, and picks Wally up in his arms. The store can wait a few hours.

Wally is taken to the apartment upstairs, and immediately laid down on Howdy’s bed. Wally changes into a spare big sweater and pyjama pants that just barely fit - clothes usually used for Frank, but today is an exception. He feels very small, swallowed by them. Howdy grabs every plushie he owns, every pillow he owns, as well as every blanket, and stacks them all around Wally as a nest. Wally cries for a while longer, and Howdy keeps a gentle hand rested on his back, reassuring him that Barnaby will indeed be home soon.

Wally holds on tightly to the smiling face of the tiny apple plush, rubbing his face on it now and then.

After half an hour of just resting, Howdy clears his throat. "Little one, y' want some food?" Howdy hasn't cooked for many of the neighbors. It's a skill he keeps private, considering he already has so much to do. Adding on requests for hearty meals would make his life an even more muddled mess. Wally, even in baby space, looks surprised.

Unable to speak, Wally lets out a little "mm-hmm," his eyes looking less dull than before. Howdy gives him a wink and gets up to head for the kitchen. He heats up some chicken soup he had made from scratch the night before, and unwraps some cookies from a few days prior. He heats up some milk in a blue bottle, adding cinnamon as a treat.

Food in hand, Howdy only glances down the stairs to worry about the store once, before assuring himself his friend will always be more important. He walks in to Wally, half asleep, thumb gently in his mouth and eyes closed. He knocks on the doorframe and calls his name, coming to sit on the bed.

"One soup-er meal before we run out of stock!" Howdy teases. Wally actually does manage a laugh at that, his smile looking a little more genuine with each moment. "What? Would you rather I soup-ress these amazing jokes?" Wally sits up and pats his entire palm over Howdy’s face, making Howdy laugh too.

They settle down, and Wally slowly eats the soup and cookies, enjoying it more than he expected. Howdy food is incredibly good, and before he knows it, he's finished every single bite. Setting the bowl aside, Wally falls back onto the nest with his bottle, sighing. He curls up, yawning.

"Someone in need of a nap, Walls?"

Wally shakes his head no, pouting. Howdy smirks.

"I think you are, pal, I think you are!" Howdy sneakily slips a blanket over him, tucking him in. "Besides, I need to go downstairs and check on-"

"Wait-" Wally speaks for the first time since coming upstairs, staring up at him with wide eyes. "Don' go? Please?"

Howdy’s antenna twitch sympathetically, and he let's out a sigh. "O-okay, okay. Well, let me lay down with ya. The neighborhood can go a day without the shop, I'm sure." He's not sure, but his friend needs him, and that's enough to get him to lay down for a midday nap.

Howdy and Wally wrap together in the blanket nest, resting gently. And Wally does feel genuinely at peace then, getting proper sleep for the first time since Barnaby left for his trip. He cuddles up in Howdy’s arms, holding his apple plushie tightly. Even if his caretaker can't be here right now, Howdy makes such a nice babysitter that he can hardly complain.

#agere #sfw caregiver #sfw agere #age regression #fandom agedre #fandom agere #welcome home agere

[mushroom-snake-coding]

The Human Friend: Lunch in the Library.

Part 2

Does anyone ever wonder if Sophie had a friend in the human world? It never mentions anyone in the books… but I wrote something where she would meet a human friend.

(So hey, again! This is part 2 of my story. (I should probably title it.) So read Part 1 if you haven’t. And the same stuff as before, I am not perfect and things may be inaccurate, but I wanted to share my little daydreams with you guys. Have fun!)

PE was torture. The coaches, Ms. Carry and Mr. Ollie, made them run a literal mile, on the freaking first day. Even after hearing their thoughts, Sophie couldn’t tell what they were thinking. She was exhausted and fairly sweaty. She drank her water as the lunch bell rung. She had something interesting to look forward to.

Sophie arrived to the cafeteria. However, this could have been the worst place ever. She could hear everyone’s thoughts. There had to be at least a few hundred students in here. Her head began to throb.

Suddenly, Sophie felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Hey!” a friendly voice greeted. Pri stood behind her, her headphones that usually hung around her neck, now on her head. Sophie heard Pri’s thoughts and she could tell Sophie was uncomfortable. Sophie wondered if she was that obvious. “Here, come with me. It’s too loud here,” Pri stated as she left Sophie out of the cafeteria. Sophie was so grateful to not be in that hell.

“Let me show you a quieter space.” Pri led Sophie up to the library. The librarians smiled at them while working at their desks. There were around twenty students there, but compared to where they just were, it was nice and quiet. Most of the students thoughts were just pictures and voices reading a book or just homework. Pri took off her headphones, and went to a table in the back.

“I love to do this jigsaw puzzle. Wanna join?” she asked. Sophie agreed, it seemed fun. They sat at the back table and worked on the puzzle while eating lunch.

Sophie had packed a turkey sandwich, with some blueberries and a cheese stick. Pri’s lunch consisted of a bean patty sandwich and some spinach on the side. However, her thoughts got a bit shy. She was mentally picturing Sophie giving her a weird look, or even worse, a disgusted look. Pri pulled out a glass container filled with two spongey looking spheres covered in coconut.

“What’s that?” Sophie asked.

“Ummmmm it’s coconut ladoo. Uh my mom made it yesterday. It’s basically a sweet from my culture,” Pri nervously replied. Her mind pictured Sophie laughing at her. Sophie, however, decided to do something different.

“Can I try some?” she asked.

“Oh uh… sure!” Pri’s thoughts shifted in surprise, as she handed Sophie a ladoo on a napkin. “Careful, it is crumbly, and can make a mess.”

Sophie smiled at that and bit into the ladoo. It tasted like a coconut cake pop, while little flakes of coconut fell down her lip. Sophie gave a wide smile, as she wiped her mouth with the napkin.

“Wow, that is SO GOOD!” she exclaimed. Pri beamed as her thoughts go increasingly positive. She ate her own ladoo and enjoyed the sweet flavor. Sophie decided to feed into her happiness: “Do you have anymore?”

“I could give you some tomorrow. My mom made a lot.” Pri loved feeling accepted like this. She continued eating her food and worked on the puzzle.

The puzzle looked like a scene of a house near a lake, based on the poster. It had 1000 pieces, the border already made, and puzzle pieces scattered around on the table. Pri was working on the house.

What Sophie hadn’t realized before was that Pri’s thoughts were fast. Faster than most thoughts she’s heard before, especially when it came to logic. Images flashed in her mind, finding to correlation in the pieces color and the shape. She connected a few pieces. And once she finished her meal, she connected them twice as fast.

Sophie decided to so the same. She quickly finished her meal and worked on the puzzle, working on a few trees in the back. Sophie zoned out, completely entranced by connecting the pieces. It was so satisfying. Although, something was wrong. Pri’s thoughts went silent.

Pri had paused with the puzzle making. She was still, looking at the ground. This was the first time in years a mind was silent for Sophie. Pri’s mind felt… hollow? Hollow seemed like the best way to describe it. Sophie got a bit freaked out.

“Uhhhhh Pri?” Sophie tapped her shoulder. Pri’s head snapped up. Sophie looked relieved as Pri’s thoughts came back. “You were a bit out of it, there.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Sometimes I just do that.” Pri leaned in closer to whisper to Sophie. “I overheard the librarians’ conversation about one of the clubs and got distracted.”

“That’s… interesting” Sophie shifted in her seat, trying to figure out, how Pri’s mind had been so silent without giving away that she could read her mind. “You seemed to be really out of it.”

“Oh yeah, sometimes I just get really focused on listening, I don’t think of anything else. Ha, it’s kinda like I’m an inanimate microphone.” Pri responded. Her thoughts didn’t show any worry that Sophie was reading her mind, so she was safe. Though it had been weird. Sophie didn’t realize how scary it had been for someone’s thoughts to randomly be silent. Sophie tugged out an eyelash.

She had forgotten Pri was there. Sophie was terrified of what Pri would think of her. Pri’s mind thought it was a bit odd. Then her mind flashed through several memories of where that thought was familiar. Finally it clicked for her.

“Do you have tril— trill… dammit I forgot how to pronounce this.” Pri grabbed a book from a nearby shelf. Its title was Trichotillomainia: The Urge to Pull Hair. “Trick-o-till-o-mania,” Pri finally pronounced. “It’s the urge to pull hair from some part of your body. It usually develops at around your age. And you pulling out your eyelashes… wait.” Pri looks intensely at Sophie’s eyes, which Sophie immediately wanted to look away from. But, Pri eventually looked away. “You have some bald spots in your lashes.”

Sophie swiftly looked back to the puzzle piece, hoping Pri would forget seeing that. But Pri noticed how shy Sophie was feeling. “Hey come on, don’t be like that. You realize you have really pretty eyes right? Like honestly, sure your eyelashes are a bit uneven, but that’s what makes them cool.” Sophie did not look convinced, despite Pri being genuine. Pri sighed and tried a different approach.

“You wanna know something? I hear everything,” Pri admitted. Sophie perked up, her mind immediately going to Did she actually hear thoughts too? “I hear all the noise. I can hear that conversations across the room, footsteps outside, even these freaking lights.” Sophie deflated a little. She was still the only one who heard thoughts. But Pri’s mind was building something up. Sophie was curious.

“What I mean to say is, that, I’m have my own issues too. If I am in a situation with too many noises, I snap at people and can get really emotional. And that can be a sign of many things. Actually that’s why I wear these headphones. But anyways, getting back on topic. It’s okay to be different in some ways. Because when you know you’re different, you meet up with other people who are different and you realize you’re not so different. Make sense?” Pri asked. Sophie was a bit confused but eventually got it and nodded.

Pri pushed the book over to Sophie. “Here, check this book out and read it. You’d be surprised of how many ways you can help yourself by learning about it.”

“Umm thank you. I didn’t know that there were books on that.” Sophie replied. Pri seemed insistent, wanting Sophie to read this because it helped herself so much, so it could help her. Sophie decided to give it a try, and checked out the book. It was close to the end of lunch now.

Sophie was feeling happier. This new girl was celebrating her differences instead of calling her a freak, like many others. This may have been the start of a good thing. The bell rang, and they packed their stuff. Pri smiled.

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See ya!” Sophie smiled back.

———————————————————————

So here is part 2. Thank you all for all of the support in Part one, which I will title, dw.

Anyways, there are lot of things that are in my life here. The library is probably the least like my life. It isn’t open during lunch, but for some reason it is during breakfast. But the jigsaw puzzle in the back is real. We get a new one each time. Also coconut ladoos are my favorite. I don’t really bring Indian food to school much because it doesn’t taste as nice cold. Plus it takes longer to make. They are mainly dinners tbh. But sometimes I take a few snacks to school.

Also for when I said Sophie had trichotillomania. (It is a very lengthy word.) It’s been around tumblr, that Sophie has this. So i decided to incorporate it. I tried my best to present it correctly because it is a real condition which affects tons of people. I Googled it, read some of the wikipedia, and looked at the first few tags on tumblr, so I could try getting it right. Please tell me if I didn’t. I’m still learning a bunch and I will improve if I know how to. Thank you.

And lastly, my next two projects are below:

Visit: Breaking into the nosy neighbor’s house. (Pri’s POV) (also I am making it a visit instead of a sleepover because of some possible plot issues)

OMG WHO IS MR TEAL EYES?! WAIT WHERE TF DID THEY GO?!!!! (Pri’s POV)

Have a fantastic day! ❤️

#kotlc sophie #kotlc #sophie foster #fanfic #the human friend

[f4eism]

let me in (to your heart)

chrissy cunningham x fem!reader

first period english was nowhere you wanted to be at the moment, and you made that clear by sleeping through it. ms. reed glanced at your sleeping form and didn't even care, continuing on with her robotic and boring lecture as the clock slowly ticked above the whiteboard.

waking up with a start and slobber all over the side of your face and a tiny headache god knows how long later, you glanced around the once crowded classroom and realized first period was finally over. you cleaned yourself up and grabbed your backpack, getting out of your seat to walk out of the door when ms. reed gave you a tired look, wishing you a good rest of your day. you were starting to regret sleeping through her class now, but you can't turn back the time unfortunately.

second period was next, then third and lunch. you were grabbing your books for your next class when you saw chrissy cunningham looking a mess walking down the hall. you and chrissy cunningham were never close per se, but you did have a soft spot for the pretty girl. she was always nice to you when the shitty popular girls picked on you and she always shared her lunch with you. all of that stopped when she started dating jason carver, number one dickhead of hawkins high and all around candy ass. you didn't hate his guts because he was dating chrissy, your angel. no, you hated him because of his status and who he was. you forced yourself to believe that, anyways.

deciding to follow chrissy, you tried to make yourself as discreet as possible. chrissy lead you to the bathroom, and you decided to stop and wait a minute before entering. in doing so, you saw freshman max mayfield walking pass giving you a puzzled look as you smiled at her and waved; her waving back and ducking her head to hide the blush on her cheeks. you giggled. you were fond of that kid ever since you quite literally bumped into her at the mall a year ago. you still felt sorry for her and her family to this day. that poor girl.

stepping out of la la land, you decide to finally grow balls and walk into the bathroom pretending to fix yourself up in the mirror. you actually start to flatten out your shirt and fix your hair when you hear whimpering and a scream come from one of the stalls. you run to which stall you see legs under and tap two knuckles fast and dramatically on the stall, yelling out an "hey! hey are you okay?!? please open up the stall!". you were frightened but you just hoped and prayed that chrissy would let you try and help her.

"leave me alone! go AWAY!" chrissy yelled while tears freely flowed down her cheeks, sweat pooling on her hair and face.

"no chrissy! im not fucking leaving you in here alone. please let me help, if you come out we can talk about whatever is going on! please, its me." your voice cracked at the end of your plea and you choked on a sob, leaning back against the sink with your fist in your mouth, trying to silence your sobs that you knew were about to come.

chrissy was holding her head between her hands and rocking back and forth, sobbing loudly as she kept whimpering about "clock" and "mom". you couldn't bear to listen to her sobs, you pushed yourself off of the sink and went to sit on the other side of her stall as you attempted to try and calm her down.

sniffling, you put a sad smile on your face and wiped away some of your tears.

"hey chrissy, do you remember when we were freshman and i fell flat on my face and everybody laughed? you were the only one who didn't laugh and helped me to the nurse's office. you're so kind and selfless chrissy. you don't deserve what... whatever you're going through! i want to help you. please, let me in. come out of the stall and we can figure this out together okay?" you asked with a slight blush on your cheeks as the embarrassing memory flooded through your mind. class was probably about to end but you could care less, it could wait.

you heard a sniffle and sneakers squeak on the dirty school's bathroom floor.

"y/n? im about to come out. i.. i dont want to be alone. the voices, god the voices! they're so cruel. and im seeing things, awful evil things. and- and i get headaches and nosebleeds. i just want it to end, im so tired." chrissy opened the door to her stall and looked at you with a pout on her face, lip trembling. she was about to burst into tears and you did the first thing that came to your head, you got up and hugged her. you hugged her so tight, god you hugged her like she was going to fade away. you stifled a sob into her shoulder.

rubbing her hair softly, you pulled her impossibly closer to you. letting her cry in your shoulder.

"chrissy, i may not understand what you're going through but i want to try to help as much as i can. if i could take it all away from you and make everything go back to normal i would. but i cant, so you're going to have to let me help you, okay? you're going to get through this. I'll be with you every step of the way, i promise you that." you stopped rubbing her hair and pulled back a little, planting a soft kiss on her warm cheek. chrissy wipes her tear stained face and smiles, giggling a little bit.

"and i believe you y/n. im so sorry i've been avoiding you for so long. we really haven't spoken since freshmen year huh? i've missed you." you smile and grab her dainty hand.

"its okay chrissy, i know you're the queen of hawkins high or whatever. i've been to every one of your cheer performances though. you do amazing everytime. jason's lucky. and i've missed you more."

chrissy winces when you say jason's name, causing you to raise your eyebrow in concern. did that bastard make her feel like this?

"you come to all of my cheer performances! y/n that's so sweet." you laugh at this and give her a quick nod, starting to rub her knuckles in soothing circles.

chrissy begins to speak again,

"also, me and jason broke up a few days ago. it was just... he wanted me to be somebody i wasn't. and i was tired of being his barbie doll. thank god, ya know?  i can breathe again."

you lit up at this, hoping that you had a chance to get with her. it was a 1% chance because as far as you knew chrissy was as straight as a ruler. who says trying couldn't hurt?

you barely knew how to respond to that, you had to pretend like you weren't jumping over the fucking moon that they weren't together anymore.

"oh thats great chrissy! i never liked him anyways." you wince at this, expecting chrissy to get mad at you but instead you heard a beautiful sound. she laughed.

"im starting to realizing I didn't like him much either y/n." you grin at the use of your name, flowing out of her mouth so smoothly, so perfect.

"mm."

chrissy gave you a curious look.

"so"... you looked around the bathroom playing coy.

"oh just kiss me already!"

and you did.

#chrissy stranger things #chrissy cunningham x reader #lgbtq #f4e writes #grace van dien #reqs open #chrissy wake up #stranger things #stranger things x reader #jason carver #maxine mayfield #stranger things season 4 #chrissy x reader #chrissy cunningham deserved better #wlw #reader is so real #the fruity four #im pushing the chrissy cunningham bisexual agenda #aesthetic #school daze #the duffer brothers

[neontokyoo]

Heyyy. I just wanna say, I am absolutely obsessed with your writing and cannot get enough of it. The writing style is absolutely amazing! Do you think you could do a part two of your Sherlock x reader wedding fanfic where Sherlock comes home from the case and he and the reader are talking to John and Miss Hudson about their plans for the future? Thank you in advance, and I hope you have a wonderful day!

Thank you so much nonnie! It always makes me happy to know so many people enjoy my writing. I really wasn't expecting my blog to grow so quickly. Thank you so much for all the support. As always, likes, reblogs, and other interactions are very much appreciated. Enjoy!!

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff (I think. idk define fluff for me again because everything I write is fluff. . .)

Summary: After coming home from the case that almost ruined the end of your wedding reception, you're greeted by Mycroft, Mary, John, and Ms Hudson who came to congratulate you and make up silly stories about your future.

Warnings: None (please correct me if I'm wrong because I didn't proofread this one.)

You relax with Sherlock after his return from the case that interrupted your wedding reception. You both sit together in your living room, surrounded by friends and family who have come to congratulate you on your marriage. John and Mary Watson sit on the couch, while Mycroft lounges in a chair across the room. Ms. Hudson stands by the window, admiring the view.

As you settle into married life, a sense of contentment washes over you. You're finally married to the man you love, and it fills you with joy.

"So, what are your plans for the future?" John asks, breaking the comfortable silence that has settled over the room.

Sherlock turns to you, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, we're just discussing the possibility of starting a family," he says.

Excitement rushes through you at the thought of having children with Sherlock. It's something you've always wanted, but you weren't sure if he felt the same way.

"Really?" Mary says, her eyes lighting up. "That's wonderful news!"

Mycroft looks up from his book, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I can't say I'm surprised. It's only a matter of time before the two of you decide to start a family."

Ms. Hudson nods her agreement. "Yes, I've always known you two were meant to be together. And I'm sure you'll make wonderful parents."

"Ah, yes," Mycroft begins. "I see it now. Mini Sherlock and the case of the missing cookie."

"That one would definitely make it into the paper," John laughs. "'Baby Holmes Burns House Down for the First Time."

"Looks like you'll have to figure out how to change a diaper, Sherlock," Ms. Hudson snickers.

Sherlock raises an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Rest assured, I am more than capable of handling any challenge, including diaper changing."

"And we expect you to come to visit us with the baby every once in a while," John adds.

"Just imagine all the mischief the little one would be making!" Ms. Hudson exclaims, trying not to laugh.

"They'd be conducting all sorts of experiments in your kitchen, Ms. Hudson," Mary laughs.

Laughter fills the room as everyone shares their imaginative and silly stories about Sherlock's future children. The atmosphere is lighthearted and joyous, painting vivid pictures of mischievous little ones wreaking havoc in 221B Baker Street.

John chuckles and leans back against the couch. "I can see it now, Sherlock Jr. conducting his own science experiments with miniature test tubes and a little magnifying glass."

Mary adds with a twinkle in her eye, "And of course, his first word is 'deduction.' Imagine a little toddler pointing at things and saying, 'Two plus two equals four!'"

Mycroft, usually composed, chuckles softly. "Yes, and Sherlock's offspring surely has a knack for puzzles and mysteries. Perhaps they solve crimes even before they learn to walk."

Mrs. Hudson chimes in, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "Oh, and the messes they make! Can you imagine little Sherlock Holmes, Jr., trying to reenact one of Sherlock's experiments and accidentally creating a miniature explosion in the living room?"

Sherlock, ever amused by the banter, joins in. "They undoubtedly have my affinity for observing details. Little detectives in the making, solving the mysteries of the lost stuffed animals and the case of the mysteriously disappearing cookies."

"Picture this," John suggests with a grin. "Sherlock Jr. and his classmates forming their own detective agency, solving cases and catching the city's missing pets. They're a force to be reckoned with!"

"Even the yard doesn't stand a chance against little Sherlock Jr. and his twenty classmate-assistants!" Mary declares.

"I can just picture him attacking his classmates, demanding them to give him any clues on who stole his favorite toy!" Mycroft laughs.

"Oh, imagine the stress he's causing for his teacher." Ms. Hudson says, wiping more tears from her eyes.

The room erupts in laughter once again, each person contributing their own comical ideas about Sherlock's future children.

"And what about their impeccable fashion sense?" John interjects. "Mini Sherlock, strutting around in a tiny fedora and a little trench coat. The trendiest detective in town!"

"No son of mine would be wearing that bloody hat," Sherlock retorts. "He obviously wears the deerstalker hat that John had described me wearing in his books."

Mary joins in, giggling. "And their obsession with disguises! Imagine little Sherlock Jr. sneaking around the house in different outfits, trying to fool us all. 'Elementary, my dear parents,' they say, revealing their true identity."

"Well, it is rather elementary," Sherlock adds, leaning back into his chair as he lights a cigarette.

"Picture this," Mycroft suggests, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "Little Sherlock Jr., complete with a miniature violin, practicing their musical talents at all hours of the day. I'm sure the neighbors are thrilled."

"No, they're waking their parents up at five AM every morning playing the most intense violin music they can find just to wake their mother up for breakfast," John adds.

"Ah, the next Mozart in the making," Mary chuckles. "I can already see them conducting their own symphony of chaos."

"We might have to lock the violin away, then, Sherlock," you joke.

Your husband looks at you with an amused look on his face. "That won't be a problem. How can he possibly be playing the violin if I'm already using it? Plus, it's in our room most of the time anyway. I think we should have him sing or get him a kazoo instead!"

The room erupts into laughter once again, the playful banter bringing everyone closer together. The thoughts of Sherlock's future children fill your heart with warmth and anticipation. Amidst the silliness, you can't help but feel a surge of love and gratitude for the family you have found in these dear friends.

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty anime #ynm #yuumori #mtp #moriarty the patriot x reader #mtp x reader #sherlock holmes #sherlock imagine #sherlock fandom #sherlock x y/n #ynm sherlock #mtp sherlock

[littlekoifishes]

Headcanons for mr.puzzles!!

■ Mr puzzles regresses around 3-5 years old.

■ He loves to color and draw, and finger paint when he gets permission to.

■ He's a giggly toddler and often shows his caregivers his tv show ideas and his cool new plays he makes.

■ Going by he/they!

■ He has 2 caregivers to take care of him, pretty much replacement for his inactive parents.

■ He's a fussy toddler sometimes and over hit his own screen out of annoyance, and pulls often at his antennas when not able to talk

■ He's gotten easily attached to his caregivers and often doesnt leave their side feeling safe and loved around them.

■ He does impurity regress at times during mental breakdowns and when he injured often crying and coughing up a storm. Needing somebody to help slipping to fast to catch himself.

■ He uses pull ups, you couldn't put him in a diaper. He'd rather die. And hates rattles often finding them annoying.

■ He doesn't use pacifier often using a teether instead and had a stuffed bunny named Ms carrot. A light brown rabbit with crinkly ears that he snuggles with when small.

■ He doesn't baby regress often and doesn't like to admit that he is an regressor and often represses himself until he breaks.

■ He loves his footed pajamas and often wears big hoodies not feeling so great about his body.

■ He's easily sleepy and often falls asleep in his carers arms whenever he's to tired, as if he didn't just say 3 minutes ago he wasn't tired and didn't need a nap

■ He loves playing pretends with his TV shows, often self inserting himself into his favorite TV shows and getting lost in his shows.

■ Only talking in short phrases and mostly whining for what he wants if he isn't throwing a tantrum.

■ he's not a brat, he has had no parental figures to guide him so he's lost, and big feelings like sadness and anger etc hit him way more than most people. Often getting told he's dramatic by people when he doesn't know how to control emotions when small.

■ He can share not with baby regressors afraid they would hurt his toys and feelihg protective over them.

■ Can't dress himself often needing help to dress himself and hates bathes often needing heavy convincing to bathe. (His head is a tv so he's scared but his body is still in Canon human so he does stink lol)

Often his caregivers bath him when he's tired or just slowly work him into bathing and wipe his tears.

#sfw agere #age regression #agere community #sfw agere blog #sfw little community #age regression smg4 #little space smg4 characters

[justahopelessaromantic]

In your dreams, kid (Ch. 4: Four dirty children, one far, far away)

Fandom: Omori Timeline: Post Good Ending Ships: Suntan (Sunny/Kel) Links to First, Previous, and Next Chapters List of Accompanying Playlists for this Fic Pinterest Moodboard for this Fic Summary: Under Sunny’s hypocritical, well-intentioned advice, Kel puzzled over his mental checklist as the bruised house drifted out of sight, now a grey blur. An assortment of surgery, artery-clogging snacks? Check! Mixtape Sunny made special for him, covered in little red hearts and a doodle of the two of them holding hands? Check (No, actually, he will not read into that, thank you for asking). An 8-pack of Monster so Aubrey wouldn’t fall asleep at the wheel while he drives her mad with alien conspiracies and iSpy all night? Check! (Sunny downed three, the absolute madman, before they even stepped foot in the car, but he figured it still counted) Homework? ...check. An excuse for stealing Ms. Suzuki’s car, running away with her son and "future daughter-in-law", and showing up at his incredibly busy brother’s dorm room? You know, something even remotely better than “You sounded like you were about to cry over the phone last night and you don’t cry and I’m so worried and distracted and madly in love with you, I simply had to come check on you, so...Surprise!” ...He’d check that one off sometime before they got there. Probably.

Evasive feet clunked against bamboo, like the stutter of a cheap elevator cord dragging Mari’s soul up to heaven, too weak to bang against the metal. His sweaty skin peels off of Sunny’s, the whine of a screeching halt reverberating off the walls.

Kel, as always, wasn’t afforded the luxury of dwelling on whether or not Sunny found that gross or swelling up in pride at Sunny’s distinct “Holy shit he actually showered” smell. Couldn’t even fight the blush illuminating his face in the dark for the amusement of a giggling Basil. The sight of black slopes under wiggling toes drained every last drop of blood back down to his thundering heart.

They didn’t use the elevator.

Sunny isn’t really a surprise. When he actually has the energy to throw on shoes, he silently stews in how inconvenient they are, tossing them in his closet the moment he hits the mattress.

They didn’t use the elevator.

But Basil? They clean themselves silly before daring to take even one step onto the welcome mat, even after digging his toes in the mud with Kel (much to Aubery’s hilarious disgust). Aubrey jokes that Ms. Polly’ll have his head, and Kel, bold in his pursuits, adds that Basil’s just looking for some head of his own, nudging his side. Aubrey shoves him down and he and Basil laugh as they wipe away the splashback of brown sludge. A tale so classic, Sunny could have dreamed it up in headspace.

They didn’t use the elevator.

Basil’s no better at keeping secrets nowadays, only having less. Ms. Polly, she keeps tabs on the panic in his voice when she positions her broom at that first step, how he offers to do it themself only to freeze by step three.

They didn’t use the elevator.

Filthy stairs in a spotless home.

Sunny and Basil didn’t use the elevator. They took the stairs.

They took the stairs.

          They

                   Took

                             The

                                 Stairs

            They took the stairs.

Kel...fucked up. Big time.

#omori #fanfiction #omori basil #omori suntan #omori kel #omori sunny #omori game #omori ships #omori ship #omori fanfic #fanfic #romance #sunkel #suntan #omori sunkel #basil #nightmare comfort #shipping #ships #blushing #fluff and angst #light angst #post canon #sunny #kel #creative writing #light hurt/comfort #stairs #elevator

[thebiggestnope]

Gus and Ozzy giving gifts!

Ozzy held up the handknit scarf for Gus to see and beamed at him. “Oh Gus, you made this yourself? How did you hide it from me while you were making it?”

“I have my ways.” His green eyes twinkled. “Do you like the color?”

“I love it! Bright purple to match my coat. It’s perfect.” He wrapped it around his neck and sat up straighter, delighted to sport Gus’s gift. “Are you ready for mine?”

“Yes please!” Gus closed his eyes and held up his hands. He felt a weighty object laid carefully on his palms. He opened his eyes and saw it: A rectangle neatly wrapped in green paisley wrapping paper, the edges crisp and perfect, the bow matching. 

Ozzy, still wearing his scarf, looked supremely pleased with himself. “Go on. Open it.”

Gus undid the paper, letting it fall away to reveal a leather-bound tome. “Oh you got me a book!” He winked at him. “I hope it’s a good story.” 

“It certainly is,” said Ozzy. But as Gus examined the gift, he grew puzzled. There was no title on the cover, and it didn’t seem to be a normal book at all. He leafed through it, and saw that the pages weren’t printed by a printing press. They were written by hand. Ozzy’s hand. He noticed the headings. Our first kiss. The picnic by the river. Dinner with the Madrigals. A hike up to the precipice. 

He paused to read one of the entries.

“I told you we were going on a hike and took you up to the ridge. Your leg started to hurt so we stopped to have lunch looking out over the entire encanto. We kissed right as the sun started to set and you whispered that you wanted to hurry home so we could…”

“Ozzy, what is this?”

Ozzy grinned. “Well, a couple of months ago I overheard you telling Teo that you were worried about remembering things. Which is understandable, of course. You’ve lived a long life, and there’s so much to remember.”

Gus kept flipping the pages. There was more than just words here. Photos were taped inside. Mementos. Here were the pair of friendship bracelets that Mirabel Madrigal had made them last year, frayed because Gus and Ozzy had worn them until they’d fallen off. Here was a bus ticket from when Ozzy had come to visit Gus when he was in the city for treatment. Here was some confetti Ozzy had saved from a festival they’d attended over the summer. 

“I wrote down some of my favorite memories so you’d always be able to reference them whenever you want. That way, it will be harder for you to forget the details.”

There were drawings in the book too, Gus realized. Here was a sketch of himself sleeping with Ms. Colombia in his lap. Here was a little watercolor of Gus’s paella. Ozzy was getting good, Gus noted.

“So now you can take this out and read all about our adventures. You can look through the life we’ve built together. You can hold it in your hands.” 

Gus kept flipping pages and he noticed that shorter, more mundane entries were interspersed with the longer ones. The first time you met my sister was immediately followed A time when you wrapped your arms around my waist when I was cooking. Our one-year anniversary was juxtaposed against A typical bath for Gus and Ozzy. All of it presented of equal value. None of it taken for granted.

Tears pricked Gus’s eyes. “I… Oz, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you like it!”

“Of course I do. But…” He thought of the memory problems he’d been developing. Of the way his mind was beginning to falter and fade. Of the incident of getting lost on that horseback ride over the summer, and how he’d begged Viv to conceal it from Oswaldo. Of how he hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell Ozzy what the doctors had known for months: That Gus’s accident so many decades ago was going to give him early-onset dementia, and it would all be downhill from here.

Ozzy looked stricken by the tone of Gus’s voice. “But what?”

“But..” Gus swallowed and wiped his eyes. “But why is most of the book blank? You left so many pages empty.”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?” He gripped Gus’s knee. “So we can fill the rest of the pages together with all the years of memories we have to come.”

Even if Gus had wanted to tell Ozzy, he couldn’t have. His voice was lost to weeping. 

#i opened a google doc and I chose violence #arcilla au #gus x ozzy #ozzy x gus

[altersidearchives]

[12/12] Here Goes Nothing

I want to preface this with context before I continue any further… my name is… I'll just go with "R" for now. I live close by to a big scientific laboratory, it gets a little noisy around here and I sometimes see stuff blow up out of the windows, but that's besides the point. One day, as I was driving home from work, I see a box full of gadgets and parts laying around. I usually don't mess with that stuff, but I was working on a few projects and could use the spare junk as long as it was safe… so I was curious. Turns out it was an abandoned project they had no further use for and needed to dispose of the parts. It looked like a Wi-Fi router and a modem with a bunch of wires, and it said "ALTER" on the top. I took it all home and didn't really do much with it.

A week in, and I go back to check it out. I go in my shed and hook it up to an old laptop I haven't used in years… with some makeshift pillow armor in case it decides to explode- and got it connected. When I went onto my browser though, the Google page looked a bit odd. A little more refined and with a newer logo, and a bunch of new buttons I never recognized. It also said my browser wasn't recognized, yet I was using Chrome… on Google. Thought it was one of those special screens they do every other day and it was bugging out, but it was still weird. I looked up the first thing I could think of… "pac-man…" and after about ten minutes, yes it really is THAT slow, stuff came up. Couldn't get any images yet, but, the stuff I was reading puzzled me. There were new games, a ton of new characters I'd never heard of, and I couldn't find a trace of things you'd expect like the old Midway games. Instead I found a game called "Pac-Man 2" and a whole article about a massive legal dispute between Namco, Midway, and GCC in the 80s over this game, which had a strikingly similar development story to Ms. Pac-Man, but… that game seems to have been wiped from existence here, if it ever even DID.

I realized what I had, I was looking at the internet from an alternate timeline. These science guys must have been developing some form of… I guess multiverse communication? And this is all they could get working and tossed it in the bin. I don't blame them, this is slower than 90s dial-up, I'd be disappointed too. At first I was kinda freaked, but… also really REALLY intrigued. I had to know more. So, I looked up "Nintendo" and got to work, figured they'd be a good place to start if I'm already going with looking at this place's games industry.

So I'll be documenting all that I can from various sources (mostly Wikipedia articles, that's all that's loading in full at the moment), and put together some type of documentary article stuff to make sense of it all. I'll also be adding notes as I go along to give opinions and other tid-bits I find that I can't fit into the articles.

Since this was called "ALTER" apparently, I'll call this project of mine… the Alterside Archives.

Well, here goes nothing.

#alterside archives #alternate history

[ahsxkatano]

The World Turned Upside Down

word count: 8,873

warnings: mentions of drug abuse

chapter summary: Judith gets reminded of a moment she would rather forget, and has to decide between standing with Jonathan or Joyce. Russel and Regina struggle with coming to terms with their friend's death, but they soon realize that everything might not be what it seems.

series masterlist | prev | next

Chapter Five: The Body

The world was moving in slow motion for Judith. She was leaning against one of the police cars, rubbing her younger sister’s back, as Regina was sobbing into her waist. Will was dead? She was having a hard time wrapping her head around that fact. They had just spoken to him, through the lights, and then…she feels herself flinch at the recent memory, and she grasps her sister tighter. She felt the ringing in her ears increase, only really hearing the sound of her heartbeat. This was all wrong. She felt her gut wrench, as she wiped away a few of her own stray tears. This was all wrong. Her mind kept repeating that phrase over and over.

“Ms. Miller?” Her mind continued to race. What was that thing? It had to have something to do with Will and his disappearance. It had to all be connected somehow because none of this shit was making any kind of sense on its own.

“ Judith? ” A harsh voice cuts in, bringing her back from the chaos that was currently rampaging through her mind. Her eyes refocus, seeing a puzzled-looking Hopper standing before her. “Did you hear me?” She gives a slow shake of her head, causing him to sigh. “I need you to tell me what happened, from your point of view.” She lets out a shaky sigh.

“Is that really important right now?” Her gaze falls back to the house in front of them, where she could see a small glimpse of Joyce, having the same far-off look that Judith had previously. “Plus, I saw how you were with her, you’re just going to think I’m nuts.” She hissed out. Hopper gave her a frown.

“Talking with wonky lights, faceless animals coming through walls, I won’t lie, it doesn’t sound great.” He grumbles. “But, if you both have the same story, then clearly something happened. I’m not trying to work against you, kid.” Judith looks down, gently running her fingers through her sister's dark locks. “I know this must be a lot for you, but I also think that Joyce is going to need you,” He points down to Regina. “Your siblings, they’re going to need you. Grief processes in different ways for every person, but I think the last thing you need to do is add on to a grieving woman’s hallucinations.” Judith’s eyebrows furrowed together, her facing contorting in anger.

“I know what I saw, Chief .” Her hands slowly reach around and cover Regina’s ears. “And if you’re insinuating what I think you are, then you can just go straight to Hell. I would never do something like this just for some fucking attention.” She seethed. A scowl forms on Hopper’s face. “Trust me, I know it all sounds nuts, but I also know what I saw. Are we done here, officer?” She doesn’t even wait for an answer before she drags herself and Regina back into the house. She closes the door behind her, practically dropping to the floor, as a sob rips through her. Will was really gone. She felt Regina weasel her way under her arms, Judith holding her tightly. She glances over at Joyce, who still seemed to be off in another world. Was she really feeding into Joyce’s paranoia? If that was the case, then what the hell did they see earlier. Her eyes move back to the wall, the fully intact wall. There were no tears or signs of some animal trying to break through. Maybe she was going crazy. Her attention was drawn to Joyce, who was on a sudden mission to leave the house.

“Joyce?” She called out, her voice hoarse from crying. “W-Where are you going?” She was answered with a slam of the back door. Judith was about to get back up when she heard the door slam again, and footsteps making their way back towards the living room. Regina now looks up to see Joyce holding an ax. “Joyce, what are you doing?” Judith questions, feeling herself sit up.

“We both saw that…that thing , Judy. It’s already tried to come through once, and I’m going to be here when it does again.” Judith could feel Regina tense up.

“That monster you guys were talking about earlier, it could come back?” Judith bites her lip. She doesn’t know what to do, because she knows damn well what she saw wasn’t some sort of fabrication from her mind, but at the same time, she would rather not give her little sister something else to panic over.

“I-It was just an animal that spooked us, Gina, nothing to worry about.” Before Joyce could object, she gives her a harsh look, mouthing to the older woman ‘Not in front of her.’ Joyce seemed to understand, and stayed quiet, making her way to her couch. “Why don’t you get some rest, love?” Judith swipes some of Regina’s curls behind her ear.

“You can sleep in my room, sweetheart.” Joyce chimes in. The small girl just nods and makes her way down the hall. Once Judith hears the door shut, she plops herself next to Joyce.

“Got another ax?”

The next few hours are filled with silence, as the two stare intently at the wall, just waiting for even the slightest movement. But it never comes. And Judith is finding it harder and harder to keep her eyes open, until she shuts them all together, finally drifting off into some kind of sleep.

“Judy? Judy!” A female voice shouts. Judith knows that voice, but it’s been a long time since she’s heard it this clearly. “Judith Anne Miller! Wake up!” She raises her head off her pillow and is greeted by the angry scowl of her mother. “What the hell are you still doing in bed? The kids need to eat!” She shouts, causing Judith to fly from her bed.

“I’m sorry, mom, I had a really late night at the diner yesterday…” She mumbles, trying to shake the remaining sleep from her body. “I only got home a few hours ago.” She could see her mother roll her eyes. Judith takes a moment to stare at her mother, her once lively skin was now a ghostly pale, her cheeks hollow, and she could swear she could see a slight bit of blood coming from her nose. Judith lets out a sigh. Looks like she was back at it again.

“Judith, I have no time for a lazy excuse of a kid like you, so either you help out, or you get. The hell. Out.” She spat, causing Judith to flinch. But instead of the guilt, she had conditioned herself to feel, she felt a sudden rush of anger.

“Mom, I have always done everything you ask. I take care of the kids, I make sure the house is clean, and I even picked up a job because YOU keep spending all of the money on fucking blow!” She shouts, jabbing a finger into her mother’s chest. “I’ve fallen behind in school because I can’t keep up with anything new because I’m too busy being the parent that you refuse to be! I’m tired of being the one you lash out on because you’re fucking neurotic!” Judith glances behind her mother, seeing two pairs of eyes staring through her door. She sighs pushing past the older woman. She puts on a forced smile and looks down at her two smaller siblings. “You guys want to get McDonald’s for breakfast?” The two kids immediately smile, nodding their heads vigorously. “Alright, then go get your shoes on! And get your things for school! We leave in five!” The twins practically topple over each other, almost as if they were racing. Judith heads back into her room, closing the door behind her, she could see that her mother was still fuming. “What?” She hisses out.

“I don’t know where you get off thinking you can talk to me like that, I am your MOTHER.” She seethes. Judith shakes her head, almost laughing as she begins to pull a sweater over her head.

“No, you’re not. You haven’t been a mother since Dad left.” Her mother runs a heavy hand through her thinning dark curls. She lets out an exasperated sigh.

“It’s like you want me to be superman or something, I can’t do it all Judith.” Again, Judith lets out a laugh, lacing up her red Chucks.

“I’m asking for you not to spend the very little money you earn on fucking crack, mom. That’s the absolute bare minimum.”

“You don’t know what I am going through! You don’t know what it’s like to live with those two…parasites! You know they’re the real reason your father left!” Judith immediately jumps up, facing off with her mother.

“Don’t you dare blame the twins,” Her voice coming off as a harsh whisper. “If you knew what those kids were actually like, you would love them just as much as I do. But instead, you’d rather get wasted and high all of the fucking time, you don’t even know anything about them, mom. Did you know that Russel is wicked smart? He gets nothing but As, and the teachers have even spoken with me about bumping up a grade. Did you know that Regina has been obsessed with karate lately? She watches nothing but kung-fu movies when she gets the chance, and even wants to sign up for classes. But my guess is that you didn’t know shit.” She practically spits out, grabbing her backpack and marching out the door. “Guys, let's go! We won’t have time to stop for food if you take any longer!” Her mother snatches her arm, grabbing her wrist harshly.

“If you think this is the way you can treat me, don’t even bother coming back.” Her voice hisses. Judith rolls her eyes, moving her wrist away from the woman. The twins come out of their room, mentioning something about a happy meal, before running to the door. Judith glances at her siblings before gazing back at her mother once more.

“You know what, Shirley, if that’s how you really feel, then so be it. I could take care of them…no wait, I HAVE been taking care of them. Better than you have for a long time. We really don’t need you.” A gasp leaves her mother’s lips, and Judith begins to storm off. She pauses, turning back at her briefly. “You know, the sooner your habit kills you, the better. We don’t need someone as bitter and hateful as you are in our lives.”

“Judith! C’mon! I want to get my happy meal toy!” A small voice shouts. And with that, she storms off, leaving her mother to stand there in utter shock. Judith suddenly felt as if she was fast-forwarding through the day, her time at school was going by in a flash, and she is unexpectedly at her front door again. Judith internally flinches, she knows where this going. She needs to wake up, she tries everything she can, but instead realizes that she is watching this through her own eyes, being nothing more than a prisoner forced to watch the “show.”

She watches as she turns the doorknob making her way up the stairs. “Mom?” She called. “Listen, I…I might have taken things too far earlier, and I just wanted to apologize.” She is met with silence. Internal Judith tries to close her eyes, but can’t. She watches as she makes it up the stairs, and feels her body freeze. She spots her mom on the couch, white powder all over her nose, eyes half-closed, and her mouth open. A funky smell hits her nose, and as she cautiously steps forward, she notices vomit covering the floor beside her mother, and even slightly stained on her shirt. “M-Mom?” She calls out again, reaching her body. She gently shakes her mother, her body moving limply. “Mom?!” She calls out more firmly, still not receiving any sort of response. She begins to shake her more aggressively. “MOM!”

“It’s your fault, you know.” A voice seethes from behind her. She turned, seeing what looked to be a distorted version of her mother. “You should really be more mindful of the things you say, Judy, you clearly hurt my feelings.” She said to her, almost mockingly. Tears are streaming down Judith's face. “It’s all your fault, Judy~” She says in almost a singing voice. “It’s all your fault.”

“JUDY!” Judith jolts up, a cold sweat covering her body. Her breathing ragged. “Jesus, Judy, are you okay?” She sees Jonathan before her, realizing she’s safe, that she's back home, and without thinking, she pulls him into a hug. He flinches at the sudden contact but hesitantly hugs her back. “Hey, you’re here, you’re safe, you’re here…” He murmurs softly, gently rocking her body, and rubbing a hand up and down her back.

After a few moments, Judith was able to collect herself, wiping any remaining tears from her face. It’s been a while since she’s had that dream. Why the hell would she be having it now out of all times? She pulled away from Jonathan giving him a nervous smile.

“Sorry about that.” She glances over and sees that Joyce was still fast asleep. She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Did you need something?” Now it was Jonathan’s turn to look nervous. He points his head towards the kitchen. She understands, and follows him to the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible. “What’s up?” She asks again, voice still low.

“Originally, when I came to wake you up, it was actually to yell at you.” He says sheepishly. Judith just blinks.

“Yell at me?” He nods.

“I’m pretty pissed at you, actually.” He says, but even he sounds like he doesn’t believe it himself. She scoffs.

“And this is you being pissed?” She teased. He throws his hands up into the air.

“You try staying mad at someone who you just woke up from a nightmare!” He whisper-shouts. She can’t help but snort but quickly changes her look when Jonathan shoots her a glare.

“Okay, so what are you pissed about?” She asks, trying to remain serious. He groans, trying to leave the room.

“Oh, forget it, it doesn’t matter now.” She pouts, pulling him back to face her.

“No, seriously Jonathan, if I’ve upset you, tell me.” He lets out a sigh and points to the lights.

“I thought we agreed on no more light conspiracies.” She gulped, a pit forming in her stomach. So that’s what he’s mad about. “And now, you’re adding some kind of monster to this shit? You promised you would help me keep an eye on mom.” She feels her brows furrow.

“In my defense, I told you from the start there was some weird shit trying to come out of your wall the other night, I just didn’t realize it was a monster until it literally tried to attack Joyce and me last night.” She grumbles. “And hanging up all these lights was the only way to keep her home, plus, I really think there is something weird going on, Jonathan.” He holds up his hand.

“Stop, just stop with this nonsense, please. I asked you, as my sister , to keep an eye on her, and instead, you just let her run wild with these ideas of Will being in the lights!” His voice raises, causing her to flinch. But she remains firm.

“Jonathan, I have never once lied to you. Why would I lie to you about something like this?” She questions. “There is some weird shit going on in this house, and I think it relates to Will’s disappearance.” He grimaces. “Jonathan, please, I’m not lying, I would never-” She’s cut off by his sudden grab of both of her hands.

“Judy, listen, whatever it is you think you saw, it’s all from your mind.” He starts, giving her a stern yet gentle look. “You’ve got a lot going on up in there, I mean, you had the dream about your mom, again, didn’t you?” She freezes slightly. “You need to rest, Judy, and so does mom. But she isn’t going to if you keep feeding into these thoughts she’s having, alright?” Judith just lets out a sigh and gives a small nod of her head. “So please, no more talk about the lights, please.” She gives another nod, remaining silent. “Good, now I’m gonna go and try to get mom up, but the twins are still passed out in her bed.” Judith sighs, making her way down the hall.

“On it.” She gently opens the door, finding Regina spread out on the bed, while Russel was knocked out on the floor. She quietly crouches down next to him, placing a soft hand on his tear-stained face. He had come home not too long after the police had told them the news, and he had practically told her everything. About him and his friends searching for Will, how they had followed the police cars and ended up seeing his body. Russel's eyes open slightly, a confused look on his face.

“Judy? What time is it?” He asks, slowly sitting himself up.

“Almost 8, we gotta get you guys up for school.” She responds, slightly ruffling his hair. He frowns almost immediately.

“Do I have to go in today? Can’t we just stay here?” The events of last night seem to be catching up with him, as she sees tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes. She quickly pulls him into an embrace.

“Alright, you guys can stay here, don’t worry about school. If anything I’ll go and pick up your work, alright?” He just nods his head into her chest, tears still flowing freely. Today was going to be one hell of a long day.

~

Russel sits at the kitchen table, picking at his plate of eggs, feeling a bit too nauseous to eat. Judith had quickly put together some breakfast, before heading out with Joyce and Jonathan. She had mentioned something about waking Regina up at some point, but after that, he had tuned her voice out. He stared down at his plate, his mind almost constantly showing him flashes of Will’s body.

His thoughts are abruptly cut off by a loud slam of Joyce’s bedroom door, and heavy footsteps making their way towards the kitchen. A puffy-eyed Regina is revealed, holding Russel’s walkie, which currently had Mike’s voice blaring through its speaker. She slams it against the table.

“Hey! Be careful with that! You know that this wasn’t cheap!” He barks, quickly grabbing the walkie to see if it was okay. She rolled her eyes.

“Then tell him to quiet down! What the hell does he want anyway? Does he not realize that Will just died ?” She fumes, marching out of the room. Even though he was still annoyed with her, he couldn’t help but agree with her. What the hell did Mike want during a time like this?

“Russel! Russel, I need you to answer! I’m not going to stop until you pick up.” He groaned, extending the walkie’s antenna.

“What?” He hisses.

“Listen, I need you to come over ASAP, alright? This is about Will!” He practically shouts. Russel’s eyebrows furrow, and he can see Regina pick her head up from the couch, looking over at him.

“What about Will?” He could hear Mike groan.

“Just come over, alright? Over and out.” Russel sighed and got himself up from the table. He cleared his plate, placing it in the sink, before rushing off into Joyce’s room. He reappears just as quickly as he disappeared, in brand new clothes, backpack in tow, and heading towards the front door. Regina grabs her jacket from the couch.

“What are you doing?” Russel asks, a slight frown on his face.

“What does it look like? I’m coming with you.” He gives out a dry laugh, before shaking his head.

“No, you’re not. But, I’ll call you if we need someone to cause unwanted trouble.” He spat, before leaving Regina alone in the house. He grabs his bike and starts to make his way to Mike’s, noticing to his surprise, Regina not following at all.

~

Judith was sitting quietly in the waiting room of the coroner's office. She wasn’t allowed to see the body since she wasn’t technically family, but she honestly didn’t think she could stomach the sight of seeing Will in that state. She did her best to try and remain calm, her bouncing leg being the only evidence of her current anxieties. She was staring at the ceiling, zoning out, until Hopper’s voice brought her back down. He wasn’t actually trying to talk to her, but instead was talking to the receptionist, pressing questions about who was actually doing the autopsy. Why did it matter who did it? Judith’s eyes focused on Hopper, who seemed to be asking a lot of strange questions. Before she can say anything, Jonathan stumbles out of the doors, tears in his eyes.

“It’s him. It’s really him.” Judith rushes over to his side, pulling him into a tight embrace. It takes a few moments for him to calm down, Judith having him sit between her and Hopper.

“How’s your mom doing?” Hopper asks. Judith leans over and gives him an ‘are you really asking that right now’ kind of look. Jonathan just gives a small shake of his head.

“I don’t know.” He mumbles.

“How long has this stuff been going on? With the lights and, uh…Will and the thing in the wall?” He probes cautiously, Judith already sending him another dirty look. Jonathan glances over at Judith, before looking back at the floor.

“Since the first phone call, I guess.” He twidles his fingers together. “You know, she’s had anxiety problems…in the past. But this…I don’t know.” He let out a deep breath. “I’m worried it could be…honestly, I don’t really know.” He let out a sigh, before glancing back up at Hopper. “She’ll be okay.” Jonathan feels a hand grasp his.

“We’ll be okay,” Judith adds, wiping a few stray tears from her face with her other hand. “And, we’ll be there for Joyce. With anything she needs.” Jonathan’s tears fall more freely. “Plus, Joyce…she’s one of the strongest people I know,” Judith remarks fondly. She can see Hopper nodding in agreement from the corner of her eye.

“Yeah, she really is.” He places a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, giving him a soft smile. The moment however is soon interrupted by a man shouting past the doors.

“Ma’am, please, I need you to sign this!” Joyce comes out of the doors frantically shaking her head. The three all rise to their feet, staring at the scene beginning to unfold before them.

“I don’t know what you think that thing is in there, but that is not my son!” She shouts.

“Joyce, wait for a second-”

“No!” Joyce fumes, storming out of the morgue.

“Mom!”

“Joyce!” The two teenagers are quick with following after her. Jonathan hops in his car, while Judith follows behind Joyce. “Joyce, we have to go back!” She received no response. Jonathan follows behind them.

“Mom, would you please get in the car?” She shakes her head.

“I n-need to think, just go home, Jonathan!” She stammers. “You too, Judy.”

“Mom, please, just get in.” Jonathan pleads. She waves her hand at him, as if she were dismissing him, and continues to walk.

“Joyce, please, let’s just talk about this back at home.” Judith tries to grab her hand, but the woman pulls away almost immediately. She could hear Jonathan’s car stop. She looks over to see him leave his car, marching his way over to his mother.

“Mom.” He says a little more firmly. Again, she ignores him, crossing the street. He runs after her, pulling her shoulder to turn her around. “Mom, please, just stop.” Joyce glares harshly at her son.

“Just go home, Jonathan.” He shakes his head vigorously.

“No, this is not an okay time for you to shut down.” Judith could see Joyce flinch at his statement, and she gently grabs Jonathan’s hand.

“Maybe this isn’t the best place for this conversation…” She whispers to him, noticing the group of people that had stopped to watch as if this was one of those reality television shows. Jonathan shakes her off.

“No, we have to deal with this. We have to deal with the funeral!” He shouts.

“The funeral?” Joyce questions in surprise. Oh boy, this was not going to end well. “For who? For that thing back there?” Her voice raises. Jonathan let out a dry laugh.

“Let me get this straight, Will, that’s not his body, because he’s in the lights, right? And there’s a monster in the wall? Do you even hear yourself?” He practically spits out.

“Jonathan, I really don’t think-” He turns towards Judith, anger consuming his features.

“And you. you don’t get to have an opinion on this, because you added to this god damn lunacy!” Judith steps back, a hurt expression crossing her features.

“We know it sounds crazy,” Joyce starts, flinging her hands into the air. “I, I sound crazy! Do you think I don’t know that? It is crazy!” She shouts, before giving the boy a pleading expression. “But I heard him, Jonathan. We heard him!” Joyce reaches over and grabs Judith’s hand. “He talked to me! Will is calling me! And he’s out there, and he’s alone, and he’s scared, and I…I don’t care if no one else believes me! I am not going to stop looking for him until I find him and bring him home. I am going to bring him home!” She screams the last part, storming off, and practically dragging Judith away with her. Judith could see the angry and tearful look on his face.

“Yeah, well, while you guys are off talking to some damn lights, the rest of us are having a funeral for Will! I am not letting him sit in that freezer another day!” Judith winces at his words, turning away from him fully, following close behind Joyce. If Joyce was willing to die on this hill, then so was she. She knew they weren’t crazy, and if anything, they were more determined now to prove it.

~

The group of boys was gathered in Mike’s basement, Russel watching closely as Eleven continues to fiddle with Mike’s walkie. A slight moaning sound could be heard, but it sounded more like a wailing ghost than it did like Will.

“We keep losing the signal, but you heard it, right?” Everyone including Russel gives Mike a skeptical look.

“Yeah, I heard a baby.” Lucas retorts, clearly unamused.

“What?”

“Mike, you obviously tapped into a baby monitor. It’s probably the Blackburns’ next door.” Mike shakes his head.

“Uh, did that sound like a baby to you? That was Will!” Russel sighs, placing a hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Mike…we are all having a hard time dealing with Will’s…Will’s death, but just know that we are here for you.” His gaze falls on the rest of the group. “We need to be here for each other.” He sees the two other boys nod, but Mike shakes his hand off.

“Russel, you don’t understand. He spoke last night. Words! He was singing that weird song he loves. Even El heard him!” Lucas scoffs.

“Oh, well, if the weirdo heard him, then I guess-”

“Are you sure you’re on the right channel?” Dustin chimes in, trying to ease the tension that began to grow.

“I don’t think it’s about that. I think, somehow, she’s channeling him.” Mike glances down, staring at Eleven’s hands as she still fiddles with the walkie.

“Like Professor X!” Dustin shouts excitedly. Mike nods.

“Yeah.” Lucas lets out another scoff.

“Are you actually believing this crap?” Russel sighs, begrudgingly nodding his head in agreement.

“No offense to you, El, but I’m with Lucas. She told us that Will was still alive, and yet we all saw his body come out of that quarry last night.” He leans himself back. “I’m calling bullshit.”

“He’s dead!” Lucas shouts. “We need to stop acting like this is something we should even entertain!” The group gets silent, Eleven wincing at the harshness of his voice.

“Well, maybe it’s his ghost. Maybe he’s haunting us.” Again, Dustin tries to break the tension.

“It’s not his ghost.” Mike insists.

“How would you know that?” Lucas probes.

“I just do!”

“Then what was in that water?”

“I don’t know!” Mike shouts. “All I know is Will is alive. Will is alive! He’s out there somewhere. All we have to do is find him.” The radio gives out a harsh sound, and the boys quickly cover their ears. Mike flips his walkie off. “This isn’t going to work. We need to get El to a stronger radio.” Dustin gives off a big smile.

“Mr. Clarke’s Heathkit ham shack.” Mike smiles and nods.

“Exactly.”

“The Heathkit’s at school.” Russel chimes in. “How the hell are we gonna sneak Eleven in there without anyone noticing?”

“I mean…look at her,” Lucas adds. The boys all glance at Eleven, causing her to give off a small frown. “So, what are we going to do?” Mike glances over at Russel.

“Easy, we call your sister.” Russel sighs.

“I had a feeling you were going to say that.”

~

Russel sighed as he stared at the phone, his friends practically burning holes into his back from behind. He just had to rip the bandaid off. He picks up the Wheeler’s landline and begins to dial the Byers’ number. The ringing seems to drag on forever until he hears a click on the other end.

“Byers’ residence, this is Regina speaking.” A tired voice speaks.

“Gina, it’s me!” There’s a slight pause, and then, the line goes dead. He turns back over towards his friends. “She hung up on me…” He trailed off. Mike pushes him forward.

“Well, call again! We need her help!” Russel groans, slamming his head against the wall.

“Fine!” He dialed the number again.

“What?” Regina hissed out.

“Listen, I know you’re mad-”

“Oh really? And why would I be mad? Is it because I have a jerk for a brother possibly?” Russel lets out another groan.

“Gina, look, I owe you an apology, but can we talk about this later, we really need your help!” He shouts.

“What? Do you need someone to cause some, what was it again, oh that’s right, unwanted trouble?” She snarls, throwing his own words back in his face.

“Regina, please, I’m sorry for being an ass to you earlier, and I know I owe you a better apology, but right now we need your help. Will needs your help.” The line goes quiet for a moment. He hears a sigh come from the other end.

“Fine. I’ll be at Mike’s place in ten. This doesn’t mean I forgive you though.” And with that, she hangs up. He places the phone back on its dock and turns toward his friends.

“Well?” Lucas asks. Russel nods his head and smiles.

“She’ll be here in ten.”

~

Regina makes quick work of biking through the outskirts of Hawkins. She had no real idea of what she should expect when reaching the Wheeler residence, other than she would actually be able to help the boys find Will. However, when she arrived, it was fair to say she was thoroughly disappointed in just exactly what her role was in all of this.

“You want me to do what ?” She asks, an unreadable expression crossing her features.

“You know, give El a makeover,” Mike says simply. Regina scoffs.

“What the hell do I know about makeovers?” She questioned.

“Well, you’re a girl, aren’t you.” Lucas remarks. She rolls her eyes.

“I’m a girl, but I’m also 12, when the hell have you ever seen me wear makeup?” The group lets out a disappointed sigh. She groans, before grabbing Eleven’s hand. “Fine, I’ll see what I can do. I’ve seen Judith paint that face of hers a few times, so maybe I can come up with something, but you guys need to find something for her to wear!” She shouts, before dragging the helpless Eleven upstairs. She pulls the girl into Nancy’s room, gently placing her on her bed. She let out another sigh. “Stupid boys thinking just because I happen to be a girl I know how to put on these stupid cosmetics.” She grumbles as she rummages through Nancy’s dresser, before spotting a familiar music box.

“Were the boys being idiots?” Eleven questions, a softness to her voice. A small giggle escapes Regina, as she makes her way back to the bed.

“Oh, absolutely.” She situates herself in front of the girl, opening the box and grabbing a blush palette and brush. Regina daps the brush lightly into the colorful powder, and leans over, beginning to apply it to Eleven’s face. The girl flinches, backing away from Regina. “This won’t hurt you, it’s soft, see?” She smears the brush onto her own cheek, a faint pink color now staining it. Eleven lets out a small giggle, before leaning forward again. Regina sighs, eyes narrowing as she tries to focus. “Alrighty, kid, let’s see what we can do here.”

After twenty minutes, an interruption by Mike who gave Eleven new clothes, and basically going through anything makeup-related Nancy owned, Eleven’s disguise was finally done. Regina steps out of Nancy’s room, closing the door behind her. She clears her throat, gathering the four boys' attention. She does her best attempt at a trumpet noise, a big grin on her face.

“Now introducing, the fully disguised Eleven!” She cheers. The door creaks open, revealing the girl. Covered in light makeup, a blonde wig on her head, and wearing one of Nancy’s old pink dresses, she looked almost unrecognizable. Regina couldn’t help but snort as she watched Mike’s jaw practically dropped to the floor.

“Wow, you did a really good job on the makeup, Gina.” Dustin smiles. “She looks-”

“Pretty.” Mike cuts off. Lucas and Russel give him a funny look, while Regina can’t help but cackle. “Good. She looks p-pretty good.” He quickly recovers. The boys snicker at his response, while Eleven ignores them and makes her way towards a mirror. She stops and stares at herself, almost as if she couldn’t even tell who the person was gazing back at her.

“Pretty…” She whispers, a small smile growing on her face. The moment is interrupted by a loud clap of Russel’s hands.

“Not to cut this short, but we should really head to the school soon.” The others nod their heads in agreement.

~

The ride to the school didn’t take too long, it was more so sneaking into the school the group was worried about. They had all stayed home that day, it would look weird that they all suddenly decided to show up just to use Mr. Clarke’s radio.

“Okay, remember, if anyone sees us look sad,” Mike instructs, as they enter the middle school building. Russel could feel a small frown on his face.

It’s not that he didn’t want to believe that Eleven had some sort of supernatural gift, but what if they were all leaning onto her a little too much? What if this was just the group’s way of avoiding their grief? He kept his concerns to himself as they quickly approach the AV club door. Mike jiggles the doorknob, only for the door to remain closed.

“It’s locked…” He mumbled.

“What?” Lucas pushes past Mike and tries to jiggle the door himself, it still remained closed.

“Hey, do you think you could open it?” Dustin glances over at Eleven. “With your powers?” He quickly adds. Regina lightly pushed his shoulder.

“Maybe it isn’t the best idea to talk about her gifts in an open space like this?” She whispers, emphasizing the fact they were literally in the middle of the hallway.

“Kids?” A voice rings out, causing the group to freeze. Russel turns and is greeted by the man himself, Mr. Clarke. He gave them a curious look. “Assembly’s about to start. What are you doing out here?” Regina watches as the boys remain tense, doing nothing to get them out of the situation. She rolls her eyes, she really has to do everything around here.

“We’re sorry. We’re just, you know…” Mike starts before being cut off by a Regina suddenly bursting into tears. Mr. Clarke jumps.

“We’re j-just, so upset, I mean, how many more times do we have to be reminded that our friend, our best friend , is gone?” She sobs. Russel bites his lip, before stepping over to console his sister.

“We just needed some alone time.” He whispers, the group nodding in agreement.

“To cry,” Dustin adds, pointing his head towards Regina. “She isn’t taking it very well.” He whispers. Mr. Clarke gives out a sympathetic look and sighs.

“I get it, I do. I know how hard this is, but let’s just be there for Will, huh?” He says softly. “And then…” He throws a set of keys at Mike. “The Heathkit is all yours for the rest of the day.” He gives the group a small smile. “Sound good?” The group all nods their heads excitedly, Regina begins to tone down her cries into sniffles. Mr. Clarke’s eyes lock onto Eleven’s. “I don’t believe we’ve met. What’s your name?”

“Elev-”

“Eleanor! She’s my, uh,-” Mike chimes in.

“Cousin!” Lucas quickly shouts.

“Second cousin!” Dustin exclaims.

“Once removed!” Russel adds, causing Regina to lightly smack his shoulder.

“She’s here for Will’s funeral.” Mike finishes. Mr. Clarke looks a bit puzzled but doesn’t push the matter further.

“Well, welcome to Hawkins Middle, Eleanor. I wish you were here under better circumstances.”

“Th-Thank you.” She stammers.

“Where are you from exactly?” Eleven begins to shake her head.

“Bad place…”

“Sweden!” Dustin practically shouts.

“Uh, I-I have a lot of Swedish family?” Mike adds, his tone not sounding too convincing.

“She hates it there,” Regina affirms.

“Cold!” Lucas emphasizes.

“Subzero.” Regina could see that Mr. Clarke was probably left with more questions than answers, and she took that as a sign to get moving. She begins to sniffle again. “I t-think we are missing the assembly, and as you said, Mr. Clarke, we should be there for…” She chokes up. “For Will.” She grabs Eleven’s wrist and pulls the girl forward, the boys following in pursuit.

“Y-Yeah…” He follows closely behind the group. Dustin is the first to make it to the gym doors, slamming them open. He stops and practically freezes, causing the whole group to almost topple over.

“Dustin, what the he-” Before Regina finishes her sentence, she can suddenly feel the tension. She looks up and is greeted by easily over a hundred pairs of eyes on her and her friends. Even the principal and some of the school faculty was staring them down.

“Abort,” Dustin whispers, trying to make a run for it but is stopped by Lucas.

“Let’s just go take our seats,” Russel murmurs, and they all head towards the bleachers. The group quickly squeezed their way onto one of the rows, gazing around at the sea of faces who seemed sadden by the loss of Will.

“Look at these fakers,” Mike grumbles.

“They probably didn’t even know his name till today,” Lucas adds. Regina hums in agreement, her eyes still fixated on her fellow peers who had never even acknowledged Will up until this moment. And then she heard it. A burst of familiar laughter that always managed to cause her blood to boil. She turns her head to see Troy, with a glorious black eye, laughing with his little buddy.

“Who is interested in this? This is so stupid.” He laughs. Regina feels her still bruised fist start to clench up. “Oh, he was such a great student.” Troy mocks. “Oh, he’s going to leave a hole in the community.” Regina feels her body shoot up but is quickly pulled down by Russel.

“Gina…please…” He whispers. The anger on her face remains solid, however, she takes a deep breath, and tries to turn her attention away from them. Eleven peers over.

“Mouth breather.” She mumbles causing Regina to snort. Russel gave her a scowl, and she raises her hands up in defense.

“I didn’t teach her that!” She whisper-shouts, getting shushed by Lucas. Not too long after, the assembly ends. A herd of heavy footsteps makes their way down from the bleachers. The others started to make their way towards the door, wanting to rush straight to the AV room. However, Regina noticed that two members of their little party were missing, and she turns back to see Mike charging over in the direction of Troy and James. “Oh, shit…” She mumbles, immediately running back, the rest of the group following in pursuit.

“Hey! Hey, Troy!” Mike shouts. The boy stops, spinning around with a nasty glare on his face. “Do you think this is funny?”

“What’d you say, Wheeler?” He spat. Regina could see Mike’s fists clenching up, but she could also see that they were gathering a bit of a crowd.

“I saw you guys laughing over there. And I think that’s a really messed up thing to do.” His voice falters for a moment, but his stance remains firm. James scoffs.

“Didn’t you listen to the counselor, Wheeler? Grief shows itself in funny ways.” He mutters. Regina lets out a small gasp.

“Oh, he speaks on his own!" She exclaims dramatically. "And here all this time I thought Troy needed to have his hand up your ass like the puppet you always seem to be for him. Who knew you were capable of your own thoughts! It's a miracle.” She mocked, moving closer to Mike. James let out a growl, about to lunge forward towards the girl, but was stopped by Troy.

“Relax.” He hissed. His gaze turned back towards the rest of the group. “What’s there to be sad about, anyway? Will’s in fairyland now, right? Flying around with all the other little fairies. All happy and gay!” He mocks. Troy and James let out a laugh before walking away.

Regina’s jaw tightens, she’s doing everything she can to hold herself together and not just charge in and beat the shit out of the two. And suddenly, before she can move, she sees Mike and Russel both march ahead, pushing both boys down to the ground. Troy is quick to whip around, a menacing glare covering his features.

“Oh, you guys are so dead!” His body shoots up immediately. James finds his footing and stares down at Russel. Troy lunges his body forward, just barely missing Mike’s face until his body just stops altogether. Russel is currently doing his best at dodging the clumsy swings coming from James, but James seems to stop when he notices Troy’s frozen position.

“Troy, what the hell, kick his ass!” He shouts. Mike and Russel’s attention are now both on Troy, as even he looks confused as to why he’s not moving. The silence is suddenly broken by an obnoxiously loud cackle from Regina.

“Holy shit, Troy Walsh is pissing himself!” She shouts. The crowd that was circled around them are all breaking into fits of laughter, pointing at the boy with wet pants. “So much for that tough-guy act, huh Walsh?” Even Dustin and Lucas have joined in on the laughing. Russel laughs and turns back towards the group, and that’s when he can see Eleven. She looked intently focused, and he could see the smallest bit of blood start to come from her nose. She gazes over at the two boys, a mischievous smile on her face before she wipes her nose and makes her way towards the exit.

“Hey, what’s going on here?!” The principal’s voice suddenly cuts through the uproarious laughter. Regina quickly snatches Russel and Mike’s hands before dragging them out of the circle.

“C’mon, guys, we gotta go.” She shouts toward Lucas and Dustin. “The last thing we need is to be in the principal’s office.”

~

The walk back to the Byers’ residence was long, silent, and gave Judith nothing but time to think about what had occurred. She had never seen Jonathan as upset as he was earlier, but then again, he believed that his brother was dead. And that his mom was going nuts. And that his best friend was only pushing his mother further off the deep end. You know, now that she thought of it, she would be pretty upset too.

The two women had been back in the house now for less than an hour at this point, Joyce not uttering anything to the girl the entire time. Judith just sat on the couch, watching the woman pace back and forth in her living room, mumbling incoherent things. She watched as she left the room, only returning with the radio that was in Will’s room. Without warning, she hits the play button. A heavy guitar rift shouts through its speakers.

“Come on…come on!” Joyce’s shout rings through the house, causing Judith to jump. She feels a wave of dread washing over her. Were they really just crazy? “Talk to me! I know you’re here!” Judith lets out a sigh as she watches the frustration grow with Joyce. However, her attention is quickly drawn to that same fucking wall .

Joyce doesn’t seem to hear it yet, but a loud clanging noise seemed to be coming through the other side of the wall. Judith feels her body move off the couch, slowly grabbing the ax that lies on the floor next to it. She hears the music stop, and Joyce finally hears the rather disruptive banging. But with the music off, the two women could hear something that made their hearts sink. A child whimpering.

“Mom?” Judith hears a gasp from Joyce as she quickly rushes over towards the wall.

“Will?!” She cries out.

“Mom…please…” Will’s voice sounds desperate, the clanging noise still evident. Joyce rushes outside, only to run back in, confusion covering her features. Judith suddenly runs towards the wall, dropping the ax, and begins ripping the wallpaper away. “Mom, please!” He cries again. Joyce joins Judith, and they make quick work at shredding the paper apart. As the layers begin to disappear, it revealed…well Judith wasn’t too sure what she was looking at. It was as thick as glass, but it also had a strong resemblance to some sort of flesh. But suddenly, that didn’t seem to matter when she saw a glimpse of Will

“Will!” The two women shout, Joyce, pressing her hands against the glass.

“Oh, thank god…my baby…” Joyce is crying. “Will…” A low growling was beginning to make its presence known. Judith felt her body freeze, it sounding exactly the same as the creature she had interacted with the night before.

“Mom, Judy, it’s coming!” He lets out a sob and continuously checks over his shoulder.

“Tell us where you are!” Judith pleads, tears streaming down her face.

“Tell us where to find you, please baby!” Joyce practically screams, voice raw with emotion.

“It’s like home, but it’s so dark!” He stammers. “It’s so dark and empty. And it’s cold! Mom? Judith? Mom!”

“Listen to me! I swear I’m gonna get to you, okay? But right now, I need you to hide.” She utters. Judith could see in her eyes that this was the last thing she wanted Will to do, after finally seeing him after so long, but without knowing where he was, she needed him to get to safety.

“But mom-” He tried to protest.

“Will, please, we are going to find you! Whatever it takes! But you have to run, Will!” Judith cuts in harshly. The creature’s growls began to grow louder, as the weird glass was slowly beginning to close.

“Run!” Was the last thing Joyce was able to shout before the glass disappeared completely, turning back into the once removed wallpaper. Joyce turns away from the wall, tears streaming down her face. Judith, through her own tears, grabs the ax from the floor, screaming as she slams it repeatedly into the wall. A light begins to shine through the house, the newly created hole only revealing Joyce’s front yard. Judith drops the ax to the floor, before sinking to the ground herself. Joyce is quick with catching her, as the younger woman sobs into her chest.

~

The group had successfully been able to sneak into the AV room without getting caught. Regina locks the door behind them, as Mike helps Eleven get situated with the radio.

“Now what?” Dustin questions.

“She’ll find him,” Mike responds confidently. The girl places her hands on the table and closed her eyes.

“She’ll be okay, right?” Regina leans against the door. “Every time she uses those powers of hers, her nose starts bleeding. That doesn’t seem normal.” She mumbles.

“I mean, nothing about this situation is normal,” Lucas adds. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Eleven remains motionless, seemingly lost in whatever it was she was doing to find Will.

“She’s doing it,” Mike whispers. “She’s finding him!”

“This is crazy,” Dustin utters in disbelief. Lucas rolls his eyes.

“Calm down, she just closed her eyes.” A loud BZZT noise could be heard, and the group suddenly found themselves shrouded in darkness.

“Oh, yay, nothing says this is a good idea like the lights shutting off,” Russel grumbles.

“Oh don’t be such a baby, Rus.” Regina teases. The radio’s static begins to shift into more of a clanging sound, the noise beginning to grow louder and louder. “What the hell is that?” No one seems to have an answer, and can only focus on the noise that continues to grow louder. And then, they heard it.

“Mom?” Every single body in that room froze.

“No way…” Lucas murmurs.

“Mom…please…” The fear in his voice was as clear as day.

“Will!” Mike shouts. Russel pushes himself closer to the mic.

“Will, it’s us! Are you there?!”

“Can you hear us? We’re here!” Dustin screams.

“Hello? Mom?” He sounds as if he’s on the verge of tears.

“Why can’t he hear us?” Lucas yelled. Mike runs his fingers through his hair.

“I don’t know!”

“Mom, Judy, it’s coming!” Russel and Regina perk up, meeting each other’s eyes. Was he actually speaking to his mom and their sister, at this moment? Will’s remarks were beginning to sound less and less like him just rambling to no one in particular, and more like an actual conversation, he was having. “It’s like home, but it’s so dark! It’s so dark and empty. And it’s cold! Mom? Judith? Mom!” Regina catches Eleven wincing, blood beginning to make its way from her nose. “Mom, please!” That was the last thing they heard before one of the fuses of the radio sparked, and suddenly the whole machine was lit ablaze. The boys all jump back, the group suddenly feeling disoriented with the surprise fire, the lights coming back on, and the fire alarm ringing violently. Regina rushes over to Eleven, while Dustin is quick to grab the fire extinguisher.

“El, are you alright?” The girl gives her no response, looking extremely pale. “Shit, Mike, I think there’s something wrong!” Regina shouts, panic lacing her voice. Mike crouches down next to her.

“Can you move?” He questions, but again there is no response from the girl. Mike and Regina exchange a brief glance, before they each grab one of her arms, raising her from the seat. “Lucas, help us carry her.” The boy just nods before grabbing Eleven’s legs, while they practically rush out of the room. Russel snags a rolling cart from the hectic hallway and quickly rolls it over.

“Get her on here!” He shouts. As carefully as they could, they place her on top of the cart before bolting out of the building.

~

Judith doesn’t necessarily remember when she had fallen asleep, but as her mind was starting to reawaken, she was able to register gentle fingers running through her hair. Her eyes slowly begin to open feeling rather dry from all of the crying done earlier in the day. When her eyes were fully open, she realizes the house is shrouded in mostly darkness, except for the living room. The living room was illuminated by the moonlight through the hole that Judith had created earlier. She must have been out for a while. Judith slowly props herself up, greeted with a weak smile from Joyce. She realizes that she had fallen asleep on the woman’s lap.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Joyce’s voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

“I’m guessing by that hole in the wall…that means this all wasn’t just an awful dream?” Judith’s voice wavers, tears starting up again. Joyce just shakes her head.

“I’m afraid not…” The two women’s attention turns back towards the wall, as a harsher light shines through the hole, it comes from a car that was currently pulling up to Joyce’s yard. A puzzled look forms on Joyce’s features, as she pushes herself off the ground to go see who it was. Judith is slow to follow, stopping herself at the main door.

“Babe…Jesus, what the hell happened?” A male voice rang out. Judith’s eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes squinted, trying to make out the figure that was slowly approaching Joyce. He stepped closer, the light of the moon now shining on him, and Judith bit her lip, an uneasy feeling settling into her stomach.

“Lonnie!” Joyce practically sobs before rushing into his arms.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #Stranger Things S1 #stranger things imagine #stranger things oc #stranger things x oc

[wipeoutms]

Challenger Jigsaw Puzzle

Click Here To Work Puzzle

There is nothing that an individual with MS either did to cause the disease to happen, or can avoid to stop the disease from following its natural course. – The Cleveland Clinic

Use of this photo does not constitute any endorsement or connection to Wipe Out MS by either The National MS Society or the photo creator.

Image by Robert Waghorn from Pixabay

#MS #Multiple Sclerosis #challenger #Jigsaw Puzzle #JigsawPuzzle #Wipe Out MS Puzzle #WipeOutMSPuzzle

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Please please please can we see Joanne reacting to the Chris saves himself au???

The Chris Saves Himself AU: One | Two | Three

CW: Whumper POV, abusive family member, ableist, ableism, pet whump universe

Jo's sitting at an outdoor cafe, sipping a hot cup of fresh coffee while the ocean beats against the Hawaiian sand. She's waiting on her breakfast and has a book open in front of her she has yet to read.

The sky and the water are nearly the same blue. It's dazzling. She can't take her eyes off it.

She's here for work, helping with getting a newly-opened WRU Facility off the ground. There have been protests, of course - Hawaiians have protested WRU making inroads pretty viciously, and Jo is glad for the secret employee entrance she uses so that the residents of this place don't know who she works for. Still, WRU is paying for the extended-stay hotel and three meals a day, and her nephew's inheritance pays for the drinks.

She cuts the thought before his face can enter her mind.

She dreams about him slumped over, mumbling about how tired he was, sometimes. Once the sedatives kicked in, anyway. She'd been irritated the first round didn't seem to work, and then worried she'd accidentally overdosed him after the second.

But no. No, the Acquisitions team had assured her he would be considered in perfect condition. And her finder's fee and bonus had really emphasized that he was.

Whatever. That problem is solved.

Joanne sighs, wistful. There are already people in the water, even at dawn. She can hear laughter filtering up from the beach.

It's beautiful.

Ronnie would have loved Hawaii. They had always planned to go together, before their falling-out.

Too bad her fucking husband and stupid brat dragged her down with them. Too bad the husband was a shitheel Irish mob asshole, too bad Ronnie's son was a piece of fucking work, too bad the stupid bastard couldn't stay hidden the one time it counted...

Joanne sniffs and wipes at the corner of her eye. Grief is hard - it comes and goes. But at least Tristan isn't her problem any longer.

He's probably happy as a clam doing someone's fucking gardening somewhere. Joanne simply refuses to admit that isn't at all what he is likely to be used for. It doesn't matter.

What she doesn't know, she isn't legally responsible for.

Lost in her thoughts, Joanne doesn't notice the uniformed officers who enter the cafe behind her. She takes a photo of the morning sun as an officer holds up a photocopied piece of paper to the server behind the counter. She posts the phot to her Instagram with #islandliving is the life for me! as the server points her direction and the officer nods and thanks them for their help.

She has missed calls and texts on her phone, but she'll check those later. Jo never looks at her phone before 8 am anymore. It makes everything much more peaceful.

She sees the first couple likes trickle in as the officer speaks to his partner and the two of them head her direction.

"Joanne Botham?"

She's startled out of her thoughts by the officer's voice and looks up to blink at the woman, her straight black hair in a low ponytail and expression stern. Jo feels an instinctive beat of apprehension. "Yes, that's me. Can I help you, officer?"

The officer has an odd look to her. Not hostile, but... not friendly. "Joanne Botham, resides at 435 Janus Way, in Berras, California? Employed by WRU?"

Her heart beats faster and Jo sets her phone down. Then picks up her coffee. "Yes. Is something wrong with my house?"

"No. Do you recognize this individual?"

The officer holds up another printed out photo and Jo's stomach falls to her knees and firmly lodges there. She drops her coffee, mug shattering on the floor, ceramics and liquid everywhere. The officer doesn't even flinch.

It's her fucking nephew.

It's Tristan in a hospital bed, looks like, staring at the camera with wide uncomprehending eyes. His hair is shorter than it used to be, and there is a ring of bruising around his neck, more bruises littered over his collarbone and shoulders.

She has a sudden wild urge to say she's never seen him before. Instead, she swallows and repeats the story she's practiced over and over until she's sure she can pass any lie detector test. "Yes. That's my late sister's son, Tristan. He ran away after their deaths. I thought he was dead."

The officer doesn't argue, just nods. "I see. Well, Ms. Botham, what would you say if I told you that your nephew is alive?"

Jo looks carefully, believably surprised. "He is? Where did you find him? I looked everywhere I could think of!"

"Did you?" The way the officer asks the question tells Jo there is a piece of the puzzle she hasn't seen yet... and it won't be something she likes. "Well, you'll be relieved to hear he was found alive."

"Yes... yes, I am. Relieved."

She's furious.

That little shit is going to ruin her life all over again, isn't he? She'll set his inheritance on fire before she lets him see a dollar. WRU was supposed to make it so she never saw him again.

She should have kept him locked in his room and left him there.

"I'll fly back home right away to see him," She says, a distant ringing filling her mind. "Where is he?"

"Your nephew is receiving medical care. Let's head down to the station. I'll fill you in on the details when we get there."

"Well-... Of course, officer, but I need to call my workplace-"

"We are already in contact with WRU, Ms. Botham. They are aware that you will not be in to work today. A WRU representative will be at the station."

Joanne takes in a breath and slowly lets it out. "I... I need a lawyer, don't I?"

"That's up to you, ma'am. All we want to do is talk. Please come with me." The officer steps back and gestures. Joanne stands, and the beauty of the day is suddenly lost on her entirely.

"Am I being charged with something?" Her voice is faint, suddenly. She swallows hard. "Am I being-"

"The only charged so far are laid against Governor Oliver Branch, ma'am."

"Against who?"

"Ma'am. Please come with me." There's a hand on her elbow and Joanne stumbles along. At the counter, the server is taping this, streaming it live. Jo glances up at the television over in the corner ceiling to see a news anchor talking about a WRU-branded human pet falling out of a balcony at the California governor's mansion and the resulting scandal.

Joanne thinks of all those missed calls on her phone.

"They're blaming me, aren't they?" She asks, coming to a sudden stop on the sidewalk outside. "They're blaming me! I'm going to be the fall guy, right?"

"Get in the car, Ms. Botham," The officer says firmly. One hand moves to her hip. "We can discuss this at the station."

Joanne sees the server with their phone out, following. The stupid little ass is smiling. They think this is funny.

It occurs to Jo they knew who she worked for all along.

She turns and with wild eyes yells, "WRU knew! I did nothing wrong! They knew!"

She's going to need one hell of a lawyer.

She's going to need a miracle.

She suddenly wishes she hadn't spent so much of Tristan's money. She could've used it for her legal fees.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @what-a-whump @whumptywhumpdump @downriver914 @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears @whumpfessional

#whump #pet whump #box boy #box boy universe #jesus joanne #chris saves himself au #whumper pov #ableism tw #abusive family member #whumper gets comeuppance #derogatory language #brief

[ungaroyals]

An Unfortunate Romance

Prince Wilhelm has gained a reputation more suitable for a teen heartthrob than the Prince of Sweden. Constantly pictured with what the press has coined his 'flavour of the week,' he's gained an unfavourable reputation with the tabloids. Being front-page news isn't exactly the type of attention the crown is looking for. The obvious plan to get Prince Wilhelm's image back on track is to find him a stable and respectable boyfriend. And who better than Simon Eriksson? Hillerska's golden boy with the voice of an angel. Too bad Wilhelm and Simon can't stand each other.

Ch1 I hope you guys like it!

Chapter two

Rating: Teen and up Word could: 8831 read on ao3

Simon sways to the music that plays through the kitchen as he and his mother prepare dinner, dancing around each other as they complete each task. Simon chuckles at his mother, listening to her sing out of tune with the passion Simon inherited from her. She chucks half a carrot in his direction when she notices him teasing her, which only makes him laugh harder.

A knock on the front door interrupts the vegetable abuse, and Simon pauses the music from his phone. He looks at his mother questioningly, and she shrugs her shoulders, neither of them expecting company. The knock sounds again, this time more persistent.

Simon sets his potato peeler down and wipes his hands on his jeans. He moves from the kitchen to the front door, surprised when he spots two fairly professional-looking people through the window. A woman outfitted in a red pantsuit, and the man in a plain black suit.

Simon opens the door only halfway, standing to block the entrance. His eyes meet the woman's, and she smiles, overly sweet. The kind someone wears when they want to be anywhere but what they are.

Simon takes them both in with a puzzled glare, "hi," the word drags from him slowly.

"Hello, my name is Alice Isaksson. I'm here on behalf of The Crown." The woman extends her hand, and Simon only stares at it. Not meaning to be rude, but out of genuine shock. She pulls her hand back when she realizes Simon isn't going to return the gesture and clears her throat, adjusting a leather tote bag that’s slug elegantly over her shoulder. "I'm here to speak with Simon and Linda Eriksson," she states, like it explains why someone dressed up as important as she is stood at his front door accompanied by a man who looks equally as intimidating.

"Simon, who is it?" Linda appears over Simon's shoulder, forcing him to fully open the door so she can see their visitors.

"You must be Ms. Eriksson," the woman does the weird smile again and extends her hand. Having more luck with Simon's mother when she actually returns the gesture, albeit with a perplexed brow.

"Yes, I am," Linda confirms, polite as always.

"I'm Alice Isaksson," the woman says again, with the exact same chime as the first.

"On behalf of The Crown, I would like to speak with you and your son." She keeps smiling, and Simon keeps waiting for the punchline of the joke, but it never comes. "Nothing terrible, of course," the woman reassures when she registers the concerned looks Simon and his mother share.

"Uh–" Linda falters slightly, then corrects herself, "of course, come on in," she says, silently telling Simon to make room for their guest by tapping his shoulder slightly. He does as he's told and steps out of the doorway so the strangers can come into their home.

There’s a twist in Simon’s gut, shocked that his mother is actually letting these people in. He supposes they look professional enough, but he's sure this can't be real. Can it?

Apparently, it can.

When they've all settled around the kitchen table, aside from the tall man Alice calls Henry, she extracts multiple documents from her bag, all of them dawning the royal crest.

"Now, I'm sure you're confused as to why I'm here," The woman says, laying out the papers, spitting them into three piles. "It's rather simple really," she begins to explain, "The Crown has taken an interest in Simon here. He's proven to be a gifted student at Hillerska, not only academically but vocally. We believe he may be an asset to The Crown in these coming months."

Simon feels his heart begin to vibrate in his chest, and when he glances at his mother, she seems to be having a similar reaction.

"We have a proposition for you, Simon," Alice sticks her nose up with a confidence people who think they're special share, like she's already proud of herself for relaying the information. "We would like to offer you the chance for all your educational expenses to be paid by the crown, including the extra maths help you've been receiving and struggling to finance. Your post-secondary education at any university of your choosing around the globe will also be taken care of. Your sister Sara is included in this, of course." The woman crosses her legs, raising her manicured hand to flip her ponytail that's long enough to trail out of view down her back, and looks at them both pointedly. Like she's given them an offer they can't refuse, and honestly, it might be.

“You what?" Simon asks, wondering if he even heard her right.

"Of course, this would come with some stipulations." Alice continues like she didn't just drop a bomb on him and his mother. "As I'm sure you're aware, Prince Wilhelm has had some issues with the press recently. His image has–" she pauses, searching for the right words, "negatively impacted the royal family, and it's my responsibility to rectify that."

"What does that have to do with Simon?" Linda asks, basically stealing the words from his mouth.

"Well, we'd like for your son to date Prince Wilhelm in front of the camera for the next six months in the hopes of correcting the 'playboy' image the Prince has gained." She actually says with a straight face.

Simon laughs. He can't help it. He's laughing right at this woman's face, and she doesn't seem to find it funny at all. Instead, she looks between both Simon and his mother with a tight smile that would usually intimidate the hell out of him. But right now, he's not sure anything could pull his mind from how absolutely hilarious this is.

"Now," she continues, ignoring Simon's reaction and bringing attention to the documents lying on the table. "This may seem a tad unconventional, but we think Simon here would be the perfect fit. I have created a schedule for the next 6 months detailing public appearances and when the paparazzi will be notified to take pictures where it seems appropriate." She pushes one of the stacks closer to Simon, and he almost reaches out to grab it out of sheer curiosity.

Simon's mother remains speechless, but Simon doesn't need to hear a word from her to know what that look on her face means. "I am not selling my son to the crown," Linda says, her voice calm but somehow threatening, in a way only his mother could accomplish.

"Well, that seems a tad dramatic," Alice says, pressing her lips in the thin line, clearly not impressed by what she is implying.

Linda stands from her seat, "I'm afraid I'll have to kindly ask you to leave."

Alice stares for a moment, leaning back in her seat to look up at Linda, probably hoping she’ll change her mind. But when Linda remains silent, Alice sighs and collects the papers in front of her. Though she doesn't seem completely disappointed, more annoyed than anything. Maybe Simon's house isn't the only one they have planned for this proposition.

Before turning to leave, Alice hesitates, "how about I leave these here," she rests the absurdly thick pile of documents back on the table, "so you have a proper chance to read through them."

Linda huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, more determined, "That won't be necessary–"

"–I'll do it," Simon cuts his mother off, the words coming just as much a shock to himself as they do her. When he looks at his mother, her eyes are wide, and her mouth is slightly parted. "It's only for six months," Simon shrugs, "I don't mind."

There's no way in hell Simon would tell his mother that he's only agreeing because he knows it would take some stress off her. There would be some comment about how he's the kid, and she's the mom. Which yeah, she's right, but if Simon has the opportunity to help out, then shouldn't he?

There's a lengthy pause, then Alice clears her throat, both Simon and Linda's attention snapping back to the woman. They'd almost forgotten she was there. "Like I said," this time, her smile is a little more genuine like she knows she's won. "I'll leave the papers here. There are clear markings where both of you will need to sign and a mailing address to send it to when you're ready. Though preferably within the next three days if possible." She pulls the strap of her bag over her shoulder and excuses herself. Her driver leads the way out of the house by opening the front door for her. They're gone without another word.

"You're not doing this, Simon." Linda states in her stern voice, or her 'angry mother voice,' as Sara calls it. Simon's never usually on the other end of it, so it becomes increasingly difficult to hold his ground on the rare occasion that he is. "Mamá, it's only for six months. It's not that big a deal." Simon tries to act uncaring in hopes it will ease the tension coursing through his mother.

"Not a big deal?" Linda raises her eyebrows, huffing a breath and leaving their dining room to continue their work in the kitchen. Simon follows, taking his place near the sink and keeps peeling potatoes. They don't turn the music back on, and there's a nervous energy that carries through the air. His mother doesn't mention it again for the remainder of the evening. Her silence is how Simon knows he's got a chance at convincing her. Which, after an agonizingly long and thorough conversation the following day, she finally agrees. Both her and Simon sign the papers and send them out Saturday morning.

When he tells Rosh and Ayub, they make a joke about Simon 'pimping himself out to the crown,' and it makes his stomach sink into a hollow part of himself he'd been avoiding. Yes, technically, they're right. But Simon has been actively trying to avoid thinking about it that way. He's doing what's best for his family, and when Simon's friends realize that, they become more understanding. Both mention their concerns but inevitably trust Simon and let him know they're there if he needs anything. He smiles at them, knowing he's lucked out to have them in his life.

Tuesday morning, as Simon lays in his bed, Simon actually considers taking his friends up on their offer. Last night was Wilhelm's and his first date. It wasn't terrible, or at least as awful as Simon thought it would be. Annoyingly Simon almost enjoyed himself toward the end. Which was the last thing he expected.

Wilhelm is nothing like Simon thought the prince would be. He's incredibly annoying but somehow charming at the same time, which only makes him even more annoying. Simon knows he shouldn't have been so snippy with Wilhelm throughout their date, but there's just something about the boy that frustrates him.

Wilhelm’s existence goes against everything Simon believes in. But it's hard for him to hate a person when he actually gets to know them, and they end up not being terrible to be around. Okay, so maybe Simon doesn't hate Wilhelm. He just hates the monarchy the boy was born into. So naturally, his dislike must trickle down, right?

Simon groans into his pillow, trying to ignore the small layer of light that trickles past the blanket strung over his window and into his room. He grabs his phone resting beside his head and opens it to a message from Rosh. He clicks on the link, glaring at the glow of his screen as he scrolls through article after article. They're all unbelievably about him. The pit in Simon’s stomach that seems to be permanent grows deeper and Simon feels like he's going to be sick.

Read all about Prince Wilhelm's new gold-digging beau. Is Prince Wilhelm being conned? An inside scoop on how the playboy Prince has once again hit new lows.

Prince Wilhelm stooping? Read all about Prince Wilhelm's new beau. How a working-class boy deceived his way into the heart of Sweden's teen heartthrob.

The working class is working a little too well for Prince Wilhelm. Don't give up yet. If you're looking to steal the heart of Prince Wilhelm, it seems just about anybody can take this prince for a joy ride.

Has Prince Wilhelm run out of options? An inside scoop on just how desperate Prince Wilhelm is. An anonymous source gave us the details on what it took for Prince Wilhelm to reach a new level of rock bottom.

Simon knows he shouldn't be reading any of it and that he shouldn't care, but he does. Still, he can't stop scrolling through all the ways the media calls him poor and pathetic. It's infuriating how quickly the press is to assume so little of Simon. He was warned there might be backlash, but he didn't think it would actually hurt.

Simon rolls over, pulling his covers over his head, dreading the day ahead of him. Everyone at school is going to have questions. They're going to expect Simon and Wilhelm to be together. They'll expect them to spend time together, to sit together, to do everything together. He feels queasy just thinking about it. Simon shuffles lower under the blankets, praying the sleep will overtake him, but it doesn't

Eventually, after multiple paused alarms, Simon reluctantly rolls out of bed. As he dresses, there's an odd sort of anxiety lingering in the back of his mind. He checks himself over in the mirror, tugging at his yellow plaid and grey shirt. He groans, rolling his eyes at his own reflection and marching to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

He spends more time in front of the mirror than usual, fixing his curls which seem to land in any direction that they please. He knows he should care. He usually doesn't, but knowing that everyone from school has probably read those damn articles is messing with his head and making the knot in his stomach tighten.

"Simon, come on," Sara wines from down the hall for the second time.

"Coming," He hollers after her, grabbing his backpack and kissing his mother on the cheek. He doesn't stop long enough to let her comment on the articles. If Simon has seen them, there's no doubt that she has as well, and he doesn't want her to worry her.

"I saw you in the news this morning," Sara says as they pick up their pace. Both siblings jog to the bus stop, knowing it won't leave without them, but also knowing the driver won't be happy if they're late. Thankfully though, the bus arrives just as they do.

"Yeah," Simon says, dismissing the subject as they pile onto the bus. Simon spots Rosh and Ayub, who have saved two seats Sara and him.

"So you're not too famous to sit with us then," Rosh teases, holding up her phone to a picture from last night.

Simon has his arm looped through Wilhelm's. They look surprisingly comfortable together. Wilhelm looks charming as always, and Simon shy, like he's trying to be confident but isn't quite there. To some, he might seem it, but to anyone who knows him, they'd see how terrified he is.

Simon thought he'd been prepared for all the cameras and attention, but when the moment came, he froze. He doesn't understand how Wilhelm can handle it. How it doesn't feel claustrophobic or anxious all the time. Simon’s throat gets tight just thinking about it.

"Whatever," Simon jokes, pushing the image away, trying not to let his true hesitations show.

"How is that going though," Ayub asks.

Simon shrugs, "it's fine." He prays they don't push for more, which they don't. Instead, they do something worse. They send him looks of concern, and that hollow feeling in Simon's stomach worsens.

When they arrive at Hillerska, Simon can feel his heart pounding up to his throat. Nerves of what's to come putting every inch of him on edge. He clenches his hands on the straps of his backpack, hoping it'll help to steady him. He'll be fine. He can do this.

"Come on, Simon, it's just school." Sara rolls her eyes as he falls behind.

Simon knows deep down his sister doesn't really mean to be as dismissive as she is, but sometimes it's hard to keep his patients with her. "Thanks, Sara," he glares, changing paths to walk in a different direction. Maybe some time alone will do some good to clear his head. It doesn't.

People are staring at him. Which they did before, but with a layer of disgust like he was lesser than. Now, Simon's not sure what's behind the many eyes that watch him head to his locker, grab his books, and then go to class. The further he walks down the hall to the classroom door, the more his anxiety sparks in the back of Simon's mind. Wilhelm is going to be in the classroom, which is now only a few feet away.

What is he supposed to do in this situation? What are they supposed to say to each other?

When Simon reaches the door, he spots his sister, and his anxiety settles slightly. As frustrated as he is with her, he's still happy to have her here and not be alone. Simon makes his way to their spot, nearly tripping over his own shoes when a pair of wide eyes meet his.

Simon can feel the entire room watching them. He swallows and plants his eyes on the ground. Wilhelm is sitting at the desk right beside him like he usually does, but for some reason, the aisle separating them doesn't feel significant enough.

Simon pulls out his chair, and the sound it makes scraping against the floor seems too loud against the room's silence as their peers watch the interaction, or rather lack thereof. Annoyance bubbles in Simon's chest, wishing everyone would just learn to mind their own business.

"Hi," Wilhelm greets him with a frustrating sense of ease. Doesn't the boy ever get nervous? Last night Simon had felt like a bumbling mess every time Wilhelm did something chivalrous. He felt like an idiot when he'd practically attached himself to Wilhelm like a leech as he led them through the slew of reporters to get to the car. Wilhelm always seems so damn put together, despite what the press seems to think.

Simon has no clue what he could possibly have to provide in helping Wilhelm with fix his image, yet here he is.

"Hi," Simon snaps. It comes out more aggressive than he means. He notices Wilhelm flinch slightly and immediately feels guilty. He's not mad at Wilhelm. He's just angry at the headlines he woke up to and the judgement of his peers. It's going to be exhausting pretending it doesn't bother him. But he can't let anyone know. It would only help his peers in thinking so little of him.

There's whispering from every direction as Simon sits in his seat. He ignores Wilhelm looking his way and makes a point to seem very invested when the teacher starts his lecture, despite not retaining a single word. Simon writes down the equations on the board, but their meaning is lost on him. Which is not great considering he's already paying for extra help. Well, he guesses the crown is paying for it now. Simon feels a little less guilty.

When class is over, both Simon and Wilhelm stand, Sara bolting out of the classroom to meet Felice at the stables. Simon gathers his books and ignores the way Wilhelm hovers near him. He had really been hoping they would just let the whole thing go while they're at school, but of course, Wilhelm doesn't seem to be on the same page.

"Should I uh– walk you to class?" Wilhelm asks, shocking Simon slightly.

When Simon doesn't respond right away, Wilhelm does that annoying thing where he threads his hand through his hair, only for it to fall back into his eyes.

"Sure," is all Simon says, hating how quiet he sounds when he does. He tucks his books under his arm and follows Wilhelm out of the classroom. "You don't have to do this, you know. People at school can learn to mind their own business. It's only the dates that matter." Simon tries as they walk down the hall.

"I know, but Alice said it was a good idea," Wilhelm explains, and Simon's stomach does the weird sinking thing again. Of course, it's Alice's idea. Wilhelm wouldn't actually walk Simon to his class if he had a choice.

They walk the rest of the way in silence, it's not comfortable, but it's also not uncomfortable. Simon continues to ignore the looks they get from their peers, some who echo the same reaction of half the articles Simon read this morning and others who seem genuinely curious.

Wilhelm clears his throat when they reach Simon's class. Both of them unsure of what exactly to do. How are they supposed to say goodbye? Do they hug? Kiss– no definitely not kiss. Simon rocks on his heels, pressing his lips together, trying not to let the awkwardness get the best of him.

"I'll just uh–" Wilhelm points down the hall, and Simon nods. He watches Wilhelm open and close his mouth about four times before deciding better of himself and walking away. He turns back, giving Simon an awkward salute, nearly running into a poor girl trying to get into her locker.

A laugh bubbles in Simon's throat at how Wilhelm apologizes to her and steps off with red cheeks. The boy may be a Prince, but he's also a complete idiot, Simon thinks to himself with a smile as he steps into the music room.

~ ~ ~ ~

As the week passes, the excitement of Simon and Wilhelm's relationship seems to fade throughout Hillerska. The more Wilhelm walks Simon to their classes, and the more often they study together, people stop staring. Spending time with Wilhelm also becomes less awkward. They fall into a rhythm of simple questions and excuses to hang out in silence. Which is why the library becomes a hot spot for them.

Simon picks at his orange, peeling the outer layer while reading a passage for his English class. He's trying to understand the supposed hidden meaning in a scene describing a dining room table. But the more he reads it over, he's sure the author only meant to tell the colour of a tablecloth. Not turn it into a representation of the character's loss for his mother that he never met after she passed away during childbirth. Yet, he's been told that's what it means.

"What's with you and oranges?" Wilhelm places his pencil down on his math book, stealing Simon's attention.

"What?" Simon asks, unsure of the sudden question.

"You have one every day," Wilhelm states like it's common knowledge.

"Yeah?" Simon confirms, puzzled as to the relevance of Wilhelm's question.

"Do you like them?" The boy asks, leaning forward on the table, way more interested than he should be for someone asking about oranges.

"Yeah," Simon confirms again, his confusion clear this time. "What's with you and gum?" he asks, feeling defensive for some reason. Not liking that Wilhelm has noticed these things about him.

Wilhelm shrugs, unbothered. "Helps me when I'm feeling anxious," he explains, cheeks going slightly pink and scratching his nose.

"But you're always chewing gum," Simons states, his brows turning in question, thrown by Wilhelm's response.

"Mhm," Wilhelm confirms, leaning forward and picking up his pencil, suddenly finding his focus again. He doesn't look at Simon as he continues at his word problems. There's a tight feeling that builds in Simon's chest.

Wilhelm always seems so confident. So put together. Simon never thought the boy suffered from anxiety. But as he thinks back to the last week and the number of times he's seen the boy run his fingers through his hair or chew on his nails nervously, it all begins to come together. How could he have not noticed sooner?

"Sorry," Simon mumbles, concentrating back on his orange. He catches a dismissive nod from Wilhelm, but he knows it's nothing to dismiss. So, against his better judgment, Simon thumbs the top of the orange and splits it two. The citrus smell bouncing between the boys as Simon extends half to Wilhelm, who looks up at Simon, shocked.

"Thank– thank you," Wilhelm smiles, reaching for the orange and immediately breaking a piece off, slipping it into his mouth.

"Don't get used to it," Simon grumbles, pretending to read the words in his book. He catches a fond smile from Wilhelm in the corner of his eye and chooses to ignore it. It's only an orange, after all.

~ ~ ~ ~

When Friday rolls around, there's an uncomfortable twist in Simon's stomach, a feeling he’s starting to know annoyingly well. Rosh's football game is today, which he idiotically mentioned to Alice, so now he's supposed to take Wilhelm. Why couldn't he keep his mouth shut?

He and Wilhelm decided they'd meet at the game rather than come together. Mostly by Simon's request. He hasn't exactly told Rosh or Ayub that Wilhelm is coming, and well, he feels that's probably something he should warn his friends about. He probably should have done it the moment he knew, and not right before the game is about to start. But well, here he is, and they say there's no time like the present.

"Wilhelm is coming." Simon rips off the bandaid as they stand on the sidelines of the field.

Rosh stops tying up her shoe and slowly looks at Simon with raised eyebrows. She then throws a look at Ayub that says, 'can you believe this guy?' then turns back to Wilhelm, "you're joking," she says, leaning back down to finish putting her cleats on, then stands straight, folding her arms across her chest looking pointedly at Simon.

"No," Simon says, shrugging in the most innocent way he can muster.

"The Prince of Sweden? Here in Bjärstad Simme?" Ayub chuckles like the image is hilarious. And honestly, as Simon thinks about it, it kind of is. He wonders if the Prince has ever even been anywhere without a five-star rating.

"I hope you know what you're doing, Simon," Rosh sighs in that same voice she used when he first told her.

"I do," Simon confirms, despite being unsure of it himself.

"Speaking of," Ayub points down the field.

Simon glances behind himself and spots Wilhelm walking in their direction, already having caught the attention of a group of girls who wave, giggling when he waves back at them.

"Does he know that we know?" Rosh asks.

Simon sighs, "no, he doesn't know, you know." He drops his face into his hands, groaning slightly and taking a deep breath. When he looks back at Rosh, he tries to ignore her concerned frown and focus on how Ayub is chuckling to himself.

"You better go save your prince." Ayub jokes, pointing in Wilhelm's direction where he stands with one hand shoved in his pocket and the other nervously brushing his hair from his eyes. The girls from earlier must have taken his wave as an invitation, because they're currently swarming him. Demanding pictures like their lives depend on it. Desperate to get the perfect Instagram photo with the Prince of Sweden.

As Simon watches, he notices the girls barely talk to him. They merely pull him in every direction to snap a photo with their faces pressed uncomfortably close to Wilhelm's cheek. After their cameras flash, each one moves on quickly, discarding him and passing him on to the next. Already editing their picture that they'll post somewhere with an absurd hashtag.

It's like they don't see him as an actual person, just a prop.

One of the girls presses a kiss on Wilhelm's cheek as she holds her phone high. Simon's stomach does a strange twist as he watches Wilhelm shrug her off as soon as the photo is taken.

Simon's hand tightens into a fist, a hint of rage boils from someplace he didn't know was there.

Don't they know he's gay? He is gay, right?

Simon realizes he doesn't actually know. He remembers when Wilhelm made the post on Instagram two years ago, he'd screenshot it and sent it to his friends. He'd gotten a strange feeling in his chest when he first saw it, heart fluttering slightly. A queer royal, who'd have thought. But that's just it. He said he was queer, not gay, bisexual or any other term. Queer. That left a lot of doors open. Not that he cares. Wilhelm could go off with any of those girls, and Simon wouldn't bat an eye.

One of the girls giggles, and Simon's attention is back on the group. He watches a tall blonde lift her delicate fingers to tuck a stray hair behind Wilhelm's ear. Wilhelm backs away slightly, moving to adjust it himself.

Simon finds himself marching toward the group before his mind can catch up to his movements. "You're here," Simon interrupts, the girl pausing when she sees Simon, glaring at him the closer he comes.

"Yea," Wilhelm swallows, looking at Simon in a way that can only be interpreted as 'save me.'

"Come on, I want you to meet my friends." Simon smiles, sticking out his hand before he can overthink it. Wilhelm hesitates for a second, staring at Simon's palm like he's not exactly sure what to do with it. Thankfully though, after a moment too long, he tangles his fingers into Simon's.

The Prince's palm is warm in the chill air, and it's smoother than Simon thought it would be. Though he shouldn't be surprised, the boy is a prince after all. He doubts Wilhelm has ever worked with his hands before. Simon swallows, ignoring the direction his mind goes, trying not to think about Wilhelm's hands and how he could use them. And he's definitely not thinking about how big they are. Because they're big. Very big.

"Sorry ladies," Wilhelm dismisses himself, pulling away from the group and tucking close to Simon's side, "thanks," he whispers under his breath.

Simon doesn't respond because Wilhelm doesn't need to thank him. He was only doing what his contract tells him to, and saving his boyfriend– fake boyfriend from a swarm of fangirls seems a part of that deal.

As they walk away, there's a chorus of giggles followed by, "–only dating him for the attention," then there’s another set of laughter.

Simon hides his internal wince, refusing to let a group of teenage girls get to him. He knew from reading the articles that first morning after their date, small jibes would be made at his expense no matter what. And he spent the majority of his school week having that fact confirmed. Enduring an endless stream of insults, not necessarily outright mean ones, but worse, comments that held insulting undertones. All said in a nice enough way that Simon couldn't exactly argue with. 'It's so nice of Wille to give someone like you a chance,' one girl had said in his history class.

Thankfully though, Simon is good at putting a wall between him and the other students at Hillerska. He'll never let them know their words hold any meaning to him. Simon hates himself enough for that, and he doesn't want to give them any more power over him.

"–pathetic," Another chorus of giggles.

Simon feels Wilhelm stiffen beside him, and when Simon glances up, he can see the boy glaring forward, then turning to look over his shoulder at the girls, who promptly shut up when they notice Wilhelm looking. Simon sighs, hating the attention Wilhelm is only going to draw more of.

Wilhelm turns back to look at Simon, "are you okay," he asks with a concerned frown. It almost looks like he actually cares. But what's more strange is the way his hand squeezes Simons reassuringly.

Simon wishes Wilhem would ignore it, but with the way the boy is staring pointedly at him, Simon doubts that will happen. He shrugs and keeps forward toward Ayub standing on the sidelines. "It's whatever," he says like it's nothing, hoping Wilhelm will let it go. But the boy doesn't seem to agree.

"It's not whatever," Wilhelm stops, forcing Simon to stop with him the way their hands are intertwined. "They can't treat you that way." He says like he's genuinely confused at Simon's lack of reaction. Simon shouldn't be surprised. Wilhelm is used to people worshiping his every move wherever he goes. How could he know any different?

"Just drop it," Simon warns, trying his best not to get snippy with Wilhelm. There are people around, all of which are watching them while pretending not to be.

"No, it's not right, we should–" Wilhelm begins, seeming like he genuinely wants to turn back and give those girls a piece of his mind.

But Simon cuts the boy off before he has a chance, keeping his voice low, "Wilhelm, I don't need a fucking Prince Charming every time someone is a dick to me. If I did, I don't think you'd ever leave my side." Simon snaps, "and I don't think either of us wants that." Simon tears his hand from Wilhelms grip and shoves it in his pocket, his fingertips suddenly feeling cold.

Wilhelm startles back slightly at Simon's outburst, and for a second, Simon feels a hint of regret turning in his stomach. Then, Wilhelm's eyes dart across the field and the few spectators that line its border, making sure no one saw their spat. Because, of course, that's all Prince Wilhelm cares about. His image. That's why they're here, after all.

"Right," is all Wilhelm says, avoiding Simon's eyes and staring down at his feet.

"Come on," Simon starts walking toward Ayub, not bothering to look and see if Wilhelm follows him. He can't explain why he's so pissed about the whole thing, but something is eating away at Simon. Maybe it's Wilhelm, or perhaps it's the fact that he's essentially selling himself to the crown in exchange for a decent education. Simon has no idea. All he knows is that he can't wait for the next six months to be over.

"Ayub, this is Wilhelm and Wilhelm, this is my friend Ayub," Simon introduces them, probably a little too carelessly for someone who's supposed to be having his boyfriend meet his best friend for the first time.

"Hi," Wilhelm smiles and sticks out his hand to shake Ayub's. He's always so polite, it makes Simon sick.

"Hello," Ayub says only a little awkwardly but is saved from making any more small talk because the match begins.

Simon nudges Wilhelm's shoulder, "that's Rosh," he follows the line of Simon's finger and nods. Wilhelm has no idea who Rosh is, but Simon hopes Wilhelm is smart enough to assume it's who they're here to watch play.

The game starts off slow while the players still warm-up, their breaths prominent in the cold air as they race across the field. But as the game continues, the few spectators around the field become more invested in the teams they're rooting for.

"Go Rosh!" Ayub yells, and Simon follows along with encouraging words. He glances in Wilhelm's direction, finding it amusing how out of place he looks but how comfortable he seems.

Wilhelm appears to be genuinely enjoying himself or at least trying to let himself enjoy it. Simon watches amused as the Prince, bundled up in his scarf, begins to chant along with Ayub and Simon. Encouraging Rosh on, despite not knowing her.

As the game progresses and Rosh's team takes the lead, the cool air seems to dip into a lower temperature, and Simon wishes he'd worn more than a sweater and light jacket. He shivers slightly, cramming his hands deeper in his pockets.

"Are you cold," Wilhelm asks, sounding genuinely concerned.

"I'm fine," Simon sniffles, a traitorous shiver escaping him.

Wilhelm begins unravelling his scarf from around his neck, "here," he moves to wrap it around Simon, who tries to step back but is already too late.

"I don't–" Simon begins to protest, but Wilhelm is tucking the fabric around his neck, enveloping Simon in its warmth. "I don't need–"

"Shut up," Wilhelm interrupts, adjusting the material, "keep it for now. It'll look good if someone sneaks a picture of us."

Simon's stomach sinks a little. Right, for pictures.

He looks over at Ayub, who's been watching Simon and Wilhelm closely all night, probably trying to work out the situation between them. Obviously, he knows they're not actually together, but Simon is sure he'll provide some unprompted advice when they're alone. Simon rolls his eyes when Ayub smirks, insinuating more than what is actually going on.

Simon pretends not to notice the way Wilhelm's scarf brushes close to his nose. It smells warm, like ridiculously expensive fabric softener soaked into his clothes through multiple washes, and fancy shampoo that Simon would probably scoff at. Hints of cedarwood and rosemary mix together, blanketing Simon in a strange sense of calm. He tries not to think too hard about it as they continue to watch the game and cheer Rosh on.

Toward the end of the match, Simon pulls out his phone, remembering they're meant to post something on Instagram together. He starts recording across the field then lands the video on Wilhelm, who doesn't notice that Simon is recording him. Simon presses his thumb closer to the centre of the screen, zooming in slightly when Wilhelm hollers out in celebration as Rosh scores a goal.

Simon smiles to himself, finding the sight of the Prince of Sweden cheering on his friend silly. It's almost absurd, really. He posts the video to his story anyways, then shoves his phone into his jeans.

He applauds when Rosh's team scores the winning goal. The girls all pile together, cheering themselves on as the boys do from the sidelines. Simon is surprised to see that Wilhelm looks genuinely enthused by his friend's victory. And that weird feeling comes creeping back into Simon's chest.

Rosh comes rushing over, wrapping her arms around Simon, who returns her excitement with equal enthusiasm. She pulls back, and she and Ayub do a handshake that Simon could never get the hang of, but that's okay. It's their thing.

When they've all settled, Simon feels a slight tension humming through his body. This is the introduction he was most nervous about. "Rosh, this is Wilhelm," Simon clears his throat, looking at Rosh, "Wilhelm, this is Rosh."

"It’s lovely to meet you," Wilhelm sticks out his hand formally, and Rosh shakes it. Wilhelm wouldn't be able to tell, but Simon can see how she looks him up and down. Passing her judgments. Not in a harsh way, of course. Rosh isn't like that. It's more her trying to determine what to do with the fact that the Prince of Sweden is at her football game. I mean, it's strange to even Simon, and he's dating– fake dating the guy.

"You play very well," Wilhelm compliments, and this seems to be enough to gain Rosh's favour because of course it is.

"You're a good man Wilhelm," Rosh jokes, and Simon rolls his eyes.

Wilhelm laughs and rushes a hand through his hair. Simon follows the gesture, hating that he knows its meaning. Wilhelm is anxious, but he can't fathom why. The guy has met kings before–Simon's friends should be a walk in the park.

"You guys wanna play a two versus two game?" Rosh asks, somehow never running out of energy.

"I should really be getting back to Hillerska," Wilhelm declines politely, "but it was nice meeting you both." He smiles genuinely and looks at Simon. "Do you need a ride home?"

Simon looks at his friends, who shrug. He's not exactly sure what he’s looking at them for, but it becomes clear whatever it is, he won't find it.

"I uh–" for some reason, Simon can't make up his mind. He could ride with Rosh or Ayub, but it seems wrong to decline the Prince of Sweden, right? Plus, it would look good for them to be seen getting into the same car, right?

"Sure," Simon shrugs, "I'll see you guys," he waves at both his friends, ignoring their smirks and follows Wilhelm toward the parking lot. Where he sees a slick black car and a woman standing just outside it.

She pulls the door open, and Wilhelm gestures for Simon to go in before him. It's the same car as the one from their date, and he's fairly certain the same driver. His suspicions are confirmed when Wilhelm thanks the woman named Malin before the door closes behind him.

"Thanks," Simon says as the car falls into silence, the low hum of the radio pattering between them as Malin pulls out of the parking lot. "Thanks for the ride," he finishes when Wilhelm raises a questioning brow.

"Of course," The Prince says, tucking his hair behind his ear, and it falls forward not long enough to stay there. Simon is almost inclined to reach over and tuck it back properly for Wilhelm, but he stops himself. That would be strange and inappropriate. Besides, why should Simon care about how it falls back into his face every time he does it anyway?

Simon looks out the window to try and distract himself, but Wilhelm makes it difficult when he shifts beside him and bumps their shoulders together and it sends a shiver through Simon. The heating in the car must be turned off. His eyes flicker to a dial, and Simon ignores that it's been set to the hottest setting.

"What's your family like?" Wilhelm asks nonchalantly, peering over at Simon like it's an entirely reasonable thing to ask. Which, technically, it is, but Simon can't understand why Wilhelm would even be interested.

Simon pauses for a moment, unsure of answering, "Uh–" he begins, hesitant about what exactly to say.

"We're here, Sir," Malin's polite tone chimes to the back of the car and Simon is saved from whatever nonsense was about to come out of him.

"I'll walk you to your door," Wilhelm leaps out of the car before Simon can decline. He's rushing to open Simon's door for him before Malin can even get out to try. He extends his hand to help Simon out.

Simon stares at it blankly, not entirely sure what he's supposed to do in this situation. When he looks up at Wilhelm, he notices a smirk on the Prince's face, and it's enough to snap Simon out of it, "stop trying to be my–"

"Prince Charming," Wilhelm rolls his eyes with amusement, "I know." With more emphasis, he faces his palm to Simon, "there are reporters down the drive," Wilhelm explains.

Oh. That makes sense, Simon supposes. So he reaches out and takes Wilhelm's hand. It's still warm and burns into the cold of Simon's skin. He lets a silent huff of frustration, letting Wilhelm help him out of the car.

"Jesus Simon, do you have any circulation in your fingers?" Wilhelm jokes when he's entirely out of the car. He keeps their hands intertwined as he pulls Simon toward the front door. Only the small light from above illuminates the walk, and Wilhelm nearly trips over his own feet. Simon laughs, earning himself a playful glare.

They make it to the door unscathed, and neither boy is sure what to do with themselves. Wilhelm brushes his hand through his hair again, and Simon is almost certain he's about to reach up and fix it himself when the front door opens.

They both jump, and for some reason, Simon feels his cheeks flush as he spots his mother. "Simon," she smiles pleasantly, "how was the game?"

"Good, uh–," He pauses, looking between Wilhelm and Linda until his brain catches up to the situation. "Uh– Mamá, this is Wilhelm," he starts, "Wilhelm, this is my mamá– I mean Linda" He catches himself, sinking into his own embarrassment.

Wilhelm smiles in that amused way he gets and turns to Simon's mother, "Hi Linda," He shakes her hand, "nice to meet you."

There's a strange swoop in Simon's gut as he watches his mother interact with Wilhelm, and he's not sure where it comes from. But Wilhelm looks so comfortable with it, which almost puts Simon more on edge. Like he's nervous enough for the both of them. But that's just it. Why would Wilhelm be nervous? It's all fake.

"I should get back," Wilhelm looks between the two of them, "It was lovely to meet you," he smiles at Simon's mother, then at Simon waving a small goodbye.

When Wilhelm is out of sight, Simon looks at his mother. She raises an impressed eyebrow at him, which Simon knows means she doesn't entirely hate Wilhelm. Not that Simon thought she would.

Simon follows his mother inside and spots Sara sitting at the dinner table, drawing in her sketchbook. She glances up at Simon and does a double-take, "that's not your scarf," she says, then promptly focuses back on her sketch.

Simon pauses, looking down at the material draped around him, and his stomach flips. "No," Simon confirms, "it's not," he mumbles, heading for his room.

He'd forgotten to give Wilhelm his scarf back. Shit.

~ ~ ~ ~

Simon closes his locker door, trying his best to keep ignoring the way people whisper about him. He thought it would continue to ease with time, but after a photo of them holding hands last night at the football game surfaced this morning, it feels like the news just broke out for the first time again. Which, of course, meant there were heaps of articles bashing Simon once again.

"Hi," Wilhelm startles Simon, meeting him by the locker, and of course, his face is worried with concern. "Are you okay? I saw some of the articles this morning," he asks before Simon can form his own greeting.

"I'm fine." Simon leans back against the lockers rolling his eyes.

Wilhelm stands in front of him closer than Simon is used to and searches him over like the harmful words could be physically seen. Like Wilhelm is looking for evidence. When he's satisfied enough that Simon is okay, the frown line on his forehead eases.

"You still have my scarf." Wilhelm reminds him with a slight smirk.

"Right, sorry, I forgot it at home," Simon explains.

A teasing smile brushes across Wilhelms features, "I'll just have to come over and get–" before he can finish, the school's designated asshole comes sauntering over like he owns the place. He swings an arm over Wilhelm's shoulder, leaning into him and looking down at Simon. His typical douchebag grin is smothered over his lips. Always looking like he's in on a secret no one else knows. Revelling in the fact he thinks he's special enough to wrap his arm around the Prince's shoulder like they're buddies.

August is no worse than the girls from the football game. Using Wilhelm like a prop.

"Well, if it isn't the princess and the pauper," he smirks, relishing in the chuckle that echoes through his friends who never stray far. Mainly because they're too idiotic to possess a sliver of independence for themselves. "How was your 'boys night out' yesterday?" He asks with a condescending lit to his voice that makes Simon's blood boil. He thinks it might do the same for Wilhelm, but he remains silent, trapped under August's hold.

"It was fine," Simon finally says, realizing Wilhelms lips might as well be glued shut.

"Sure it was," August winks, "Anyways, when you're finished toying with the socialist," August lets go of Wilhelm and roughly claps him on the back, "I want to talk about getting you on the rowing team." He stares pointedly at Wilhelm until the Prince nods

Despite knowing what an absolute prick August is, it shocks Simon how much Wilhelm sinks into himself because of his cousin. It's a complete contrast to the dorkish yet confident demeanour Simon is starting to know.

August and his friends chuckle as they walk away, stopping at the end of the hall. They lean against one of the classroom doors, and some of them sneak judging glares at their way. August, however, is blatant in his stare, like he's challenging them. Simon turns back to Wilhelm, now standing a little taller like he's shaken off the nauseating wave August left behind.

Simon's eyes flicker back to August and the disgusted way he's looking at them. "Kiss me," Simon huffs under his breath, looking Wilhelm in the eyes.

Wilhelm startles slightly, clearly confused, "what," he asks like he's not sure he heard Simon right.

Simon rolls his eyes, trying not to let his nerves show and take control of the situation. But Wilhelm makes it incredibly difficult when he's only staring at Simon like a dumbass. "Kiss me." Simon repeats, "he won't believe it unless you kiss me."

"Oh– I uhm–" Wilhelm's face flushes a deep shade of red, his hand running through his air.

Simon clears his throat. He looks Wilhelm directly in the eye, this time more gentle, "if you want to, you can kiss me."

Wilhelm licks his lips, "Oh," he whispers breathlessly, eyes flickering to Simon's mouth, "oh– okay," his voice shaky. "I'm gonna kiss you now." He informs Simon nervously, stepping closer, cornering Simon where he leans against the lockers.

"Okay," Simon nods encouragingly, hating how strained his words are.

Wilhelm is looking at him intensely, his brown eyes making their way closer, and there's a shift that flutters through Simon's stomach. He's sure his heart is going to pound through his chest with the tension coursing between them.

Wilhelm swallows, "okay, here I go."

"Jesus Christ," Simon grabs at the front of Wilhelms shirt, bunching the material between his fingers and yanks.

"Mmph–" the boy sounds, then his lips are on Simons.

For a moment, Simon doesn't process what he's doing and neither it seems does Wilhelm. They both stand, bodies rigged and mouths pressed stiffly together. Simon's stomach flops, thinking he's misjudged the situation, and things between them are about to get very awkward. But then something shifts, and he's being kissed back. A pleasant shiver spreads from Simon's chest to his fingertips, and a slight gasp escapes him.

Wilhelm kisses like his life depends on it.

He sucks gently on Simon's bottom lip, wrapping his hand around the back of his neck, holding them steady. His other hand lands on his hip burning through the material of Simon's clothes, where his t-shirt meets his jeans. His grip tightens when Simon falters slightly, knees going weak at the way Wilhelm's body towers over him.

Simon holds back a whimper, vaguely aware that they're in public and at school of all places. However, the thought doesn't seem to cross Wilhelm's mind because he slides his tongue across Simon's bottom lip, sucking on it and deepening their kiss. Simon parts his lips before he can think better of it, letting Wilhelm's tongue glide skillfully against his. There's a wave of peppermint that blossoms over Simon's taste buds, and he welcomes it with equal intensity. For some strange reason, knowing what Wilhelm tastes like sends a shiver down his spine that he can't explain.

A surprised gasp escapes Simon as Wilhelm pushes him back slightly. He presses Simon against the locker, something digs into his back, but he can't be bothered to care. Wilhelm's fingers move to tug on the curls at the base of Simon's skull, and a whimper sounds from the back of his throat. He melts pathetically at the way Wilhelm crowds him, like Simon is the only thing that matters.

Over Wilhelm's shoulder, Simon thinks he hears someone whistle. He must be right because Wilhelm pulls back suddenly, silently gasping through pink lips. Simon remains leaned against the lockers, chest rising and falling, his breath stolen and heart in his throat.

They both look at each other with wide eyes and wet lips. That was… unexpected.

Simon clears his throat, standing straighter and adjusting his shirt, "Uh– yeah. I think– I think they believed it." He mumbles, avoiding the way that Wilhelm is looking at him, and worse, the way Simon might look back. Because holy hell, Simon has never been kissed like that before. The worst part being, that's probably how Wilhelm kisses everyone. He is a known 'playboy' after all.

"That was–" Wilhelm starts.

"–a one time thing,” Simon finishes for him, with as much certainty he can muster, despite the way his heart aches at his own words. Which is exactly why he and Wilhelm are keeping their lips to themselves from here on out.

#young royals #yr fanfic #young royals fanfic #wilmon fanfic #simon eriksson #wilhelm x simon #prince wilhelm #wilmon #simon x wilhelm #yr #young royals netflix #yr an unfortunate romance update #yr an unfortunate romance ch2 #it's two am im so tired omfg #im sorry if there's mistakes people #im trying my best lol

[trynatalktou]

Thanks to the kind anon who sent me a prompt asking for a fluffy fic with pregnant Cha-Young.

Sorry for doing this instead.

Canon divergent. Set before episode 16.

Also this is absolutely crack, but a Geumga Plaza themed one at that! Enjoy!!

Vincenzo could feel that there had been a switch in the atmosphere of Toto's restaurant since the very moment he stepped in.

There was a fragile sense of anticipation surrounding the room - waiting for the possibility of being disrupted by the the slightest wrong movement.

And without Cha-young by his side- who had to make herself absent due to yet another medical appointment- on this particular weekly lunch with the tenants, their watchful eyes (tracking what appeared to be his every single movement) were starting to become quite overbearing.

"What is it this time?" He sighed.

The bubble bursted.

"Ms. Hong has been pregnant for how long now?"

Vincenzo chokes on thin air.

Mr. Ahn was promptly by his side, offering assistance while he coughed violently.

"What do you think you are doing Suk-Do? They would tell us when they're ready." Mrs. Kwak reprimands.

At the opposite corner of the table, Jang Yeon-Jin frowned. In contrast to what appeared to be everyone in the room - including her husband - she did not suspect Cha-young to be pregnant, truth be told, considering the increased amount of time she got to spend with the lawyer in the last weeks, (which despite starting as an accident, turned out to be something she always looked forward to) and all the 'girl talk' they got to share over it, she considered herself to be quite certain of the fact that Hong Cha-Young was pretty much, not pregnant.

Weird.

"We...what?" Vincenzo half-shouts, straining the words out and catching everyone's attention. His voice still hoarse from the coughing fit. "What in the hell are you talking about?"

The panic in his eyes makes everyone freeze in realization.

"Oh God, oh no" Chef Toto utters while making several sign crosses in sequence.

Hell breaks loose.

There is a lot screaming, a little bit of crying - fingers being pointed and Suk Do pleading him to not cut his off.

Vincenzo and Yeon-Jin stand there like statues amidst the chaos, completely perplexed. He sends her a look that asks a question - he is not sure which one - but she simply shrugs.

"People calm down, he won't kill us, we are kind of doing him a favor?" Ju-Nam reasons weakly.

"Cha-young will if he doesn't." Miss Yang deadpans.

The entirety of the room winces.

Not that the discussion of who would be the one to end up doing it mattered to Vincenzo at all with a turmoil going through his head; words of doubt and reasurrements of impossibility twisting and clashing against each other in a mess that leaves a metallic taste of fear in his mouth.

He shakes his head violently to snap out of it, taking a sip of water to calm down.

"Oh my God! What if he is not the father? Young-Ho exclaims.

What a perfect timing.

Vincenzo chokes again, sputtering water all over Mr. Nam.

Before he even gets a chance to say anything - which was probably for the best when it comes to his dignity - the boy's mom gives him a well-centered smack on the head.

"Of course he is the father, you idiot, who else could it even be." Mrs. Kwak affirms determined.

Vincenzo feels himself blush crimson. He groans.

"Could I know why on earth-" he says through gritted teeth "you all think that Mrs. Hong is pregnant?".

The tenants share a look of unsureness, but ultimately, just nod their heads with some reluctance.

"The constant trips to the Doctor." Mr. Tak starts.

Vincenzo's left eye twitches.

"The nausea she has been having constantly these days." Mr. Nam continues, still wiping his clothes and face.

His arms starts to tingle.

"The whole thing about trying to avoid drinking as much as before"

Is it possible to beat himself up?

"And most importantly, this ultrasound she dropped out of her bag the other day." Larry finishes by throwing the picture on the middle of the table.

Yeon-Jin freezes. Oh no.

A series of gasps can be heard.

"Why are you all gasping? You already knew this." Mr. Nam asks exasperated.

Vincenzo feels his chest thighten, so that's it, that's how he goes after all - of course it would end up being because of Hong Cha-young.

Just at this moment, the bell at the door sounds.

"Hello everyone, how ar- what the hell happened here?" Cha-young cries out.

Vincenzo can't take it anymore.

"Mrs. Hong, are you pregnant?". " he hears himself demands in a voice that sounds like the very depths of despair themselves.

Cha-young laughs, only downright laughs.

Until she alarmingly notices that she is the only one to find it funny - everybody is the table is holding their breaths, staring at her expectantly.

"No, why woul-" but then - and she can pinpoints it as the moment she abruptly stops talking - she sees Yeo-Jin, shaking her head and silently begging. The ultrasound she lost is laid out on the table - and that's all she needs to click the pieces of the puzzle together.

Cha-young doesn't even have to think twice to make up her mind. And so on, she takes a deep sigh, and prepares herself to do one of the many things she is able to do the best: she acts her heart out.

Tears swell up quickly on her eyes as she gasps:

"How- how did you find out?"

And just like that, as a direct consequence of it, Vincenzo Cassano - the great Consigliere of the Cassano family and dangerous mafia man - faints.

#vincenzo #chayenzo #hong cha young #vincenzo x cha young #I didn't let it clear if Vincenzo and Cha-young are together during this because I couldn't make up my mind in which scenario is funnier #Also I am and was super sleep deprived while writing this #I will correct my mistakes and nonsense in the morning sorry #Geumga Plaza #All the geumga plaza peeps here who would have thought that writing a fic with a lot of characters would be hard #everyone probably #i really went from two to twelve lol #anyways take this thanks #Also if this fic leaves you with some questions please ask them away #i can and will answer them all #probably #just kidding i will #most likely #can u tell im drunk lol

[goldenraeofsun]

Enhanced Extraction Techniques

Also available at AO3

“Cas?”

Cas whirls around. If he was standing on a normal floor, his shoes would have squeaked with the abrupt turn. In the Empty, though, his feet don’t make a sound. “Dean?” he calls back, his heart soaring in his chest.

“Cas? Where are you, man?”

Cas spins in another circle, his eyes straining against the darkness. The oppressive blankness of nothing presses against his eyeballs like an almost tangible film. He tries again, “Dean?”

“Cas?”

“Dean!” Cas takes off in the direction of Dean’s voice.

“Are you there?”

 Cas walks faster, anticipation quickening his heels. “I’m coming!”

“I can’t find you!”

“I’m here!” Cas calls back desperately.

“I’m running out of time here, buddy! Spell’s not gonna last forever. Where the hell are you?”

Panicked, Cas breaks out into a run. “I’m coming, Dean!”

“Are you?”

Cas stops dead. If he was back on Earth, he would have fallen flat on his face with the momentum. He turns to his right, where Dean’s voice just came.

“Cas? You there?”

Dean’s voice definitely came from his left that time.

“I need you.”

Cas swallows. Dean’s voice is coming from directly in front of him now. Icy dread creeps up his spine, but he feels hot all over.

“You make it too easy, Castiel.”

Dean never calls him by his full name, not in more than a decade. He is not talking with Dean.

“Nobody is coming for you.”

Cas doesn’t respond. Shamed beyond reason, he just stands there because there is nothing else to do. He can’t hide from the Empty. The Empty is everywhere.

Black ooze, blacker than the surrounding darkness, bubbles up from the floor. The Empty resolves into Cas’s own face, to his surprise. He’d been expecting Dean.

It shrugs, a knowing smirk playing on its lips. “What can I say? If you’re determined to keep me awake, I might as well amuse myself.”

“Your sense of humor leaves much to be desired,” Cas says as tonelessly as he can manage.

The Empty crosses its arms over its chest. “My options are limited, aren’t they?” it says snidely. “I can’t put you to sleep, so I can’t sleep. I might as well make this experience as hellish for you as it is for me.”

Cas frowns. “You could always negate our deal. Send me back to Earth.”

The Empty laughs. “That’s not how it works. That was a one-way trip.”

Cas grinds his teeth. “Then it seems like we’re at an impasse.”

“An impasse requires two forces of equal power,” the Empty tuts. “And you, my little gnat, have no power in this equation. You are my plaything. What was it that Gabriel said? A thousand channels and nothing’s on. Except you.”

Before Cas can respond, the Empty disappears, dissolving into a tarry splatter and absorbing into whatever passes as the floor in this place. 

 * * *

Cas wanders. He used to sleep while he was bored, but the Empty truly reigns supreme in his dreams. Cas killed Naomi’s Dean facsimile a thousand times, a million times. He watched Dean rake leaves, Crowley whispering poisoned promises into his ear. He walked away as Dean hurts and rages silently behind him in the Bunker.

So Cas stays awake. He’s an angel. It isn’t hard.

Dean’s voice occasionally calls for him.

Cas ignores it.

He wanders for what seems like miles, like hundreds of miles. Nothing ever changes in the Empty. With every step forward, he meets the same bleak blackness. The closest comparison in his long memory is the fraction of a second before the Big Bang - there was emptiness then too, but it was filled with a pregnant sense of promise. In the Empty - nothing.

Until.

Dean is running towards him.

Cas blinks a few times to make sure, even though his vision is perfect.

“Cas,” Dean breaks the silence first, “I found you.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes - any louder, and Dean will hear the trembling. “You’re here.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean says with a wink. “Now, come on. We’re getting out of here.” He takes off in the direction he came from, glancing behind him to check on Cas.

“We are?” Cas asks, following.

Dean throws him a disbelieving look. “Of course, dude. Sam and Jack are prepping the spell to get us back to the Bunker. We got Chuck by the short and curlies, but we’re one power player short. So we gotta get a move on.”

“So you need me?” Cas asks.

“Your mojo is the ticket,” Dean says with a little grin. “Chuck wiped all the angels off the Earth except Michael. And that dick isn’t answering our prayers, so you’re our next best bet.”

The joy at seeing Dean wavers. “I am?” he asks haltingly.

Dean shrugs. “We gotta work with what we have. And we just remembered you were here, out of Chuck’s reach. Our own spare angel!”

Cas barely holds back his flinch. Hunching in on himself, he mutters, “Yes, I suppose so.”

“Don’t worry,” Dean assures him, misreading his reaction completely. “We have a plan.”

Cas sighs. “Of course you do. What is it?”

“Sam found a spell,” Dean says. “It’ll rip Chuck apart, and, since Amara’s inside him - which, gross - it’ll maintain the balance when the spell takes her apart too.” 

Dean stops walking.

Cas looks around, but nothing sets aside this patch of emptiness from any other. No illuminated rift, no magic symbols, no X marking the spot - nothing.

“The catch is,” Dean says as he turns to Cas, his face regretful, “the spell needs an angel’s grace.”

In a blink of an eye, an angel blade drops into Dean’s palm.

Cas blinks. No beings but angels can manifest that particular weapon.

Dean raises the blade, fingers flexing on the handle. “You know,” he says conversationally, “Now that I think about it, we don’t actually need the angel himself - just the battery.”

Cas stands his ground, his eyes darting over Dean’s face, taking in every nuance and tell.

“I told you once,” Cas says warily, a horrible foreboding coming over him, “I’m always happy to bleed for the Winchesters.”

“Happy to hear that, Cas,” Dean says, his face impassive, “because you’re gonna bleed a lot, not gonna lie.” He shoves the blade in Cas’s chest, right above his heart.

Cas staggers back from the blow, pain and shock radiating out from the bloodless wound.

Dean raises his eyebrows, his mouth curling into a mocking smile as Cas meets his smug face. “What, were you expecting to go poof? We’re in the Empty,” he throws its hands wide, “everyone’s in stasis here, including you.”

Cas yanks the blade out of his chest, but it - and Dean - turns into black goo before he can stab anything with it.

 * * *

The Empty doesn’t mimic Dean next. Instead it takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s. Every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven.

And there’s no escape. Cas can do his best not to listen, but if he retreats too far into himself, it almost counts as sleeping. With the Empty’s nudging, his thoughts will veer into his worst regrets, sooner or later. 

The Empty is in the middle of lecturing him in the form of Balthazar, when it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

“Come on,” he says roughly. He strides forward to grab Cas’s hand and tug him in the other direction. “That bomb doesn’t last forever.”

“Dean?”

“Who else?” Dean yanks him sharply to the left. “This place didn’t turn your brains to scrambled eggs, did it?”

“I don’t think so,” Cas says shakily. “Dean are you really...”

“What?”

Cas can’t help looking down at their clasped hands. A fleeting thing, barely more than a glance. Still, Dean drops Cas’s hand like it burned him. “You good to run?” he asks shortly.

Cas barely nods before Dean takes off. They hurtle through the Empty, their rapid footsteps impossibly silent. Dean’s breath comes in sharp pants, and Cas’s useless wings ache, not for the first time, to fly them to their destination.

“Dean,” Cas starts, and Dean slows. “Where are we going?”

“Where I left my stuff,” Dean says shortly. “The spell to get us out of here needs a shit-ton of crap, and I couldn’t haul it all over this goddamn place while I was trying to find you.”

“How did you know your way back?”

The corners of Dean’s mouth lift in a faint smile. He points to the floor. “M&Ms.”

Cas squints at the ground, and, sure enough, they are following a trail of tiny candies. “Ingenious,” he murmurs.

“Hey, it worked with a Wendigo,” Dean says, shrugging. He directs them in a few more twists and turns before Cas sees Dean's duffle bag in the distance, topped with a bright yellow bag of M&Ms.

As they get closer, Dean pulls out an angel blade from inside his jacket.

Cas balks. 

Dean shoots him a puzzled look as he hands it to him. “It won’t kill anything here, obviously,” he says, unzipping his bag. He pulls out a copper bowl and bundles of herbs, “But having a weapon’s never a bad idea in unknown dimensions.”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas surveils their inky surroundings, already on high alert for any trespassers.

“Watch my back, okay?” Dean glances over his shoulder. Various ingredients get dropped into the bowl with outsized clangs and dribbles that seem to echo in the void around them.

Cas stays vigilant.

“This was easier than I thought it would be,” Dean mutters as the bowl’s contents start to smoke.

“Don’t jinx it,” Cas mutters out of the side of his mouth.

Dean chuckles under his breath. “I didn’t think angels believed in jinxes.”

It’s not like Cas has been especially angelic these past few years. He says shortly, “I’ve found you can never be too careful.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Need your blood for this part,” he says, shuffling over to make room. “Wait,” Dean says before Cas can press the blade againt his skin.

“Yes?”

“This is the last step,” Dean says seriously. “Once your blood goes in, it’s liftoff. So I wanted to get a couple things straight before we’re back in the Bunker.”

Cas doesn’t need to breathe, but if he did, his breath would have hitched in his chest at the closed-off look on Dean’s face. “Of course.” 

“What you said - what you told me,” Dean starts, his voice hard, “before you got sucked to this hellscape.” He drops his gaze to the bowl cradled in his hands, “That’s not me.”

Cas presses his lips together, struggling to keep his face impassive. Once he regains control of himself he says, “I did not expect you to reciprocate when I told you about my feelings for you.”

Dean actively recoils at the mention of feelings. He gives the bowl a little toss, and a few of the contents spill onto the floor. “Just, forget it,” he says brusquely, gathering everything up again.

“Dean-”

He turns to Cas, his eyes blazing. “But - you know what? I can’t forget it.”

Cas opens his mouth, but Dean is not done.

“How could you offload all that shit on me right before you fucked off to parts unknown?” he demands, voice rising in anger and volume. “Of all the goddamn things you could have said to me - that takes the fucking cake. You were my best friend -” he breaks off, shaking his head. “Worst moment of my goddamn life.”

Cas takes a step back, a sickly horror trickling down his spine. “I didn’t think-”

But Dean’s not listening. “I had serious doubts about coming here at all,” he continues, and the last Dean had stabbed him in the chest - how is this so much worse? “But Sam gave me those goddamn puppy dog eyes, and don’t even get me started on Jack-”

“I understand,” Cas interrupts stiffly. He inhales a deep breath he doesn’t need and continues, “Once we return to the Bunker, I’ll stay out of your way.”

“Probably for the best,” Dean mutters.

Cas cuts his forearm, watching with perverse fascination as the blood wells up and drips into the bowl waiting below.

There’s a violent burst of light and sound.

In the aftermath, Cas can only make out Dean’s mocking laughter. Before Cas can say a word, it turns into Meg’s delighted giggles. And then Gabriel’s howls of mirth.

 * * *

Cas sleeps after getting deceived for the third time. Anything is better than seeing the smug face of the Empty, whether it’s wearing Dean’s face, Gadreel’s, or Ruby’s. 

He breaks the wall in Sam’s head.

He lets Lucifer possess him in a futile plan.

He beats Dean to a bloody mess for the Angel Tablet.

Occasionally, the Empty grants him release, and Cas gets to deliver a bad joke to Uriel in Mesopotamia or Dean calls him a baby in a trenchcoat in a diner.

Time passes. Cas has no idea how long. There’s no sun - no moon - no cycling of the heavens. Only emptiness.

He gets shaken awake.

Cas blinks up at a pair of very familiar green eyes. “Dean,” he says, more or less resigned.

“Jesus,” Dean says as he sits back on his heels, “Way to make a guy feel welcome. I’m here to save your sorry ass, in case you were wondering. A full week of tearing my hair out over how to get you outta here, and this is the thanks I get.”

Cas sits up. “My apologies,” he says tentatively as he studies Dean’s face. There’s no sign it isn’t really Dean.

Then again, none of the others showed signs either.

Cas gets to his feet, asking, “Are you alone?”

Dean glances around them warily. “Yeah, Sam and Jack are keeping the portal open in the Bunker. They wanted to come,” he says, his eyes raking over Cas’s face, drinking him in. “They’ll be over the fucking moon to see you again.”

Cas swallows. “And you?”

“I -” A dull flush comes over Dean’s cheeks. He looks away.

Cas’s face shutters. “Right,” he says as he stands in front of Dean. “Now what?”

“Hey,” Dean says, reaching out to grasp his left shoulder, a mirror of the mark Cas left on him so long ago and so recently. “I missed you too. You have to know that.”

Worst moment of my life.

Cas looks away, Dean’s own raised voice echoing in his head.

“Hey,” Dean says again, gentler this time. His green eyes bore into Cas’s face. “What’s going on in that celestial brain of yours?”

The words catch in Cas’s throat, a lump of embarrassment and fear keeping them there. Embarrassment that the Empty deceived him. Fear that the Empty was right.

“Look, I know we didn’t leave things on great terms,” Dean says awkwardly, “and maybe this isn’t the best place to talk about it, but I’m so fucking happy to see you, man.” He chuckles ruefully. “’S making me lose my goddamn mind.”

Even if it’s only a facsimile of Dean - and there’s no way to tell for certain - seeing his face not contorted in anger or mockery is like a balm on Cas’s soul. If he had one, that was.

“About what you said before you got taken-” Dean starts.

Cas’s heart sinks.

“No,” Dean says, his voice low and gentle, “listen to me. I get that happiness for you might just be in the being, but for me-”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Cas interrupts. “I meant that, truly. You don’t have to-”

“Jesus Christ,” Dean says, smiling slightly, “You’re not making this easy are you?”

Cas bites his tongue to keep from contradicting Dean again.

“As I was saying,” Dean continues pointedly, his green eyes shining, “For me, happiness isn’t in the being - whatever the hell that means. It’s in the goddamn having.”

Cas bites his tongue harder, the pain hardly registering against the burst of hope fluttering wildly in his chest. “Dean,” he forces out, “You can’t mean…”

“Cas,” Dean starts, and Cas’s heart breaks - or mends. He can’t tell. He has no idea who he is talking to, and it’s, to borrow a phrase from the real Dean, an epic mindfuck.  

“Cas,” the Dean standing in front of him repeats, and Cas’s gaze automatically draws back to his face, “Good things do happen.”

Cas chuckles wetly. He has no choice but to say, “Not in my experience.”

Dean takes a step closer, far into the personal space he’d shown Cas so many years ago. Brows drawing together, he raises a hand to cup Cas’s face. “Someone told me a while ago that having faith was important. Seems you’re a little short there, buddy.”

Cas tries to duck his head, but Dean won’t let him. Eventually, he admits, “My faith has been tested recently.”

“But you didn’t give up, right?” Dean asks, leaning in close enough that Cas can feel the warmth of his breath in the air between them.

Cas shakes his head minutely. “No,” he murmurs, “not entirely.”

“Good,” Dean says, pausing just shy of Cas’s mouth. Waiting.

Cas steels himself and closes distance.

Just before their lips touch, Dean implodes in a burst of inky ooze.

 * * *

Cas breaks several knuckles on the floor of the Empty. There are no walls to punch, no blade to send heads rolling. Cas works with what he has.

The real Dean would probably approve.

Dean shows up again before too long. This Dean goes so far as to tell Cas he loves him.

Cas turns his back on Dean’s heartbroken face. He refuses to engage.

He wanders instead.

* * * 

Cas hears the footsteps before he sees his next Dean.

“Cas!” he pants, “Thank fuck. I thought I was never going to find you.”

Cas merely sighs.

Dean makes a face. “Way to roll out the welcome wagon,” he says, clearly offended. “I would’ve thought you were sick of this place by now.”

Cas purses his lips. “I am.”

“Shocker,” Dean says with a little smile. “Look, we don’t have a lot of time, so you gotta follow me.”

Cas doesn’t budge. He’d rather roam this place for eternity than suffer at the hands of another Dean facsimile. And he had thought he saw enough of them under Naomi’s tutelage. He’d been so naive.

Dean stares at him like Cas just stripped naked and danced the macarena. “What are you doing?”

“You’re not real,” Cas says bluntly.

Dean gapes. “Of course I’m real! Chuck’s de-powered, and Jack… well, it’s a long story. Bottom line: nobody’s pulling our strings but us.”

Cas lets out a derisive laugh.

Dean’s eyebrows rise, but he barrels on, “So it’s time to get a move on. Up and at ‘em, sunshine.” He jerks his head off to the right. 

Cas stays where he is. “No.”

“What the hell?” Dean has the gall to tug on Cas’s sleeve like he’s a wayward toddler. “Come on. You’re not making any sense.”

“You’re not making any sense,” Cas retorts. It’s not his best rejoinder, but he’s been very stressed lately.

Whatever Dean was about to say dies on his tongue as he stares at Cas in confusion. “What’s wrong with you?” He shakes his head before Cas can respond, saying, “Doesn’t matter. We’ll figure it out later. But now, you’ve gotta come with me.”

Cas levels him a flat glare. This one is more stubborn than the last, more like the real Dean. “Why should I?”

“Because you don’t deserve to be stuck here?” Dean says, gesturing to the void around them. “You saved the world, Cas.” He swallows. “You saved me. Getting you out is the least we can do.”

“Because you need me to take on Chuck,” Cas says.

“No?” Dean says, his eyes narrowing. “I already told you, Chuck’s off the playing board.”

“Because you feel guilty about leaving me here.”

“No - wait, I do, but,” Dean breaks off, irritated, “you know what I mean.”

Cas doesn’t, so he continues in the same vein as before, “Because you love me.”

Dean hesitates. “I’m working on it.”

Cas snorts. At least the last Dean had the balls to say it. Many times. While crying.

“What?” Dean throws up his hands. “You just sprung it on me, dude! I didn’t even know angels could feel things like that, and it took me by surprise, okay? I’m only human, and sometimes we need time to get used to ideas. Like when we found out Snooki was a demon. Yeah, the signs were there, and it makes sense, but still - you sometimes need it spelled out for you.”

Cas pauses. None of the other Deans had referenced pop culture. “How long ago was this for you?”

“Since we summoned Snooki?” 

At Cas’s icy look of disdain, Dean hedges, “A month? Give or take.” He glares. “First we had to deal with Chuck, and it took a while to find a spell to get here. Remember, we didn’t even know this was a place before you died the last time. The Men of Letters weren’t a shit ton of help, for once.”

Cas crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just… hear me out,” Dean says. “There’s a portal to get us home. Sam and Jack can’t stall the Empty forever.”

That was new. “Jack and Sam aren’t in the Bunker?”

“No,” Dean says as he takes off in the opposite direction, all but forcing Cas to follow to find out more. “They’re up in Heaven.”

“Why?”

“Because the Empty can’t get to Earth without a summoning spell, which, as far as we can tell, doesn’t exist?” Dean says, checking over his shoulder to make sure Cas is still within earshot. “But you made that fucking stupid deal in Heaven, so we knew it could at least travel there. Jack zapped Sam to the Pearly Gates, and they’re hopefully making a distraction while I get you out.”

Still not entirely convinced, Cas asks begrudgingly, “And where are we going?”

“A portal,” Dean says confidently. “This place is a little like Purgatory, apparently. If it senses a human here, it’ll create a portal to spit them out again.” He flashes a grin over his shoulder. “So here I am, 100% genuine human to bail your ass out.”

“Thank you?”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean says with a wink.

Cas scowls. The first Dean had winked at him too.

“Jesus, tough crowd,” Dean mutters as they head further into the Empty.

Cas scans the ground, but there are no small candies lining the way. “How do you know where to go?”

“Turns out, Sam could find a spell for that,” Dean says as he holds up his left hand - clutching his amulet. The Empty must have really hunted around in his memories for that one, even more so than the Wendigo case. He hasn’t seen the real amulet in nearly five years. “It heats up when I’m on the right track towards the exit.”

“So no M&Ms?”

Dean turns to him. “I told you about that?”

Cas stares straight ahead, willing his face to fall into an expressionless mask. The real Dean had told him about the Wendigo over dinner with Sam and Mary while she was still alive, or the Empty wouldn’t be able to use it as inspiration now.

Dean shakes his head, smiling. “Man, I haven’t thought about that case in forever.” He glances at Cas, his face sobering. “You really don’t believe this is real?”

“No.”

He can’t. Not again.

Dean sighs as he steers them slightly to the right. “Come on, I’m almost getting third degree burns from this thing. We must be close.”

Sure enough, a blue swirling portal comes into view, a pinprick of light in the distance at first, elongating into an exact replica of the Purgatory exit as they approach. 

“Finally,” Dean mutters, his face impassive. He  turns to Cas. “Just… don’t stay behind,” he grimaces, “again.”

This version has been the most true to Dean - less callous than the first, more caring than the second, more guarded than the third. It will hurt the most when this one falls apart. Maybe it would be better if Cas heads it off at the pass instead of letting the whole painstaking ruse play out all the way through.

If the Empty could get it over with, Cas will go back to sleep. Anything is better than this torture.

Cas takes a step back, away from the portal. “This is pointless-”

“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean throws his hands in the air. “I don’t get it at all. You don’t think you deserve to be saved?”

Cas gapes at him.

Dean continues heatedly, “If an ex-demon with anger management problems and rap sheet a mile long deserved to be saved, I think a legit angel should get the same.”

Cas shakes his head. “I’m hardly a prime example of an angel anymore.”

Dean raises his eyebrows. “Have I ever cared about that?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Glad we can agree on something,” Dean cuts him off. “Now, are you going to go through the portal or am I gonna have to drag you? I’ll do it,” he threatens. “Don’t test me.”

Cas wavers. Everything in him says to follow Dean. But this isn’t the real Dean - this is the Empty waiting for the glorious moment when it can yank the illusion away, leaving Cas a little more broken than before.

Dean’s eyes narrow. “Fuck you,” he spits, “You can’t trust me just a little-”

“Trust?” Cas echoes as he strides forward to grab the lapels of Dean’s jacket, his voice rising in a mixture of outrage, desperation, and heartache, “You want me to trust you? After you’ve lied to me, deceived me - after you stabbed me, after you told me I put you through the worst moment of your life the last time you saw me, after you made me think you returned my feelings only to - only to-”

Dean shakes his head slowly. “But I didn’t do any of that.”

“You did,” Cas says fervently, shaking Dean a little - or maybe that’s his trembling hands. “You did - you’ve been putting me through hell since I got here, and I’m sick of it. I’m sick of you.”

Dean’s expression hardens. “You don’t mean that.”

“Oh, I do,” Cas swears. “I’m done pretending.”

Dean his eyes flicking down to Cas’s mouth. “What do you know,” he breathes, “so am I.”

Cas freezes, waiting for Dean to dissolve into a puddle of goo in his hands.

Dean kisses him instead.

At the first touch of Dean’s lips to his, Cas jerks back in surprise and horror.

He falls straight into the portal. 

The Empty vanishes in a blur of too-bright light.

 * * *

Cas comes to in the middle of a field. The sun shines overhead. Noon, Cas registers distantly as he looks around. Dean’s sprawled on the prairie grasses next to him, already waking up judging by the groaning noises.

“Dean?”

Dean opens his eyes, glances at the sky, and closes them again. “Oh great, we made it.”

Cas tentatively picks his way closer to Dean’s side. He stands over him for a moment, shuffling to the side so he doesn’t block the sunlight falling on Dean’s face. “We’re on Earth.”

“Well, it’s sure as shit not Mars,” Dean grumbles, eyes still closed. “Are you watching me right now? I feel like you’re watching me right now.”

Cas stares around the field. “Not anymore,” he says, and a genuine breeze blows against his face. What a marvel.

“‘S okay,” Dean says as he wiggles a little on the grass, getting more comfortable, “’M used to it.”

Cas turns to him. “It’s really you.”

“The real deal, sweetheart,” Dean cracks his eyes open, one corner of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile. “You believe me now?”

“This could be the most elaborate ruse yet.”

Dean lifts his head up. “Seriously? You dick, I did not haul ass all the way-”

“I don’t really believe that, however,” Cas says before Dean can work himself up too much.

“Good.” He meaningfully thumps the grass next to him. “Sit. You’re giving me serious Law & Order vibes.”

Cas’s brow furrows. “I don’t get that reference. I know about Law & Order-”

“And how does every episode of Law & Order start?” Dean interrupts, “With someone standing over a dead body in a field.”

Cas takes a seat. “Not always a field. Most episodes show corpses in urban areas, or, once, a yacht.”

“Pretty sure it was more than once. I hate procedural cop shows.”

“They are very formulaic,” Cas admits, stretching out his legs, “and lack the drama of soap operas.”

“I’m just saying, if a long lost sibling doesn’t pop out of the woodwork or if the main character isn’t killed off at least six times, is it really worth watching?”

Cas levels him a flat look. “Dean, all those things have happened to you.”

Dean snorts. “At least none of us got amnesia.”

Cas rolls his eyes. “Speak for yourself.”

Dean turns his head to stare at him, a wide grin spreading across his face as he laughs. “Oh shit, you're right. How the hell did I forget?”

“Because of supreme irony, most likely.”

It takes Dean a moment to get it, but when he does, he laughs even louder.

Cas doesn’t have anything to add, so he lets the conversation peter off into silence, listening to Dean’s even breathing and the grass rustling in the gentle wind.

“I didn’t think it would be like this,” Dean says in an undertone.

Cas turns to him. Dean’s eyes are closed again, but everything else about him radiates a quiet tension Cas might’ve missed anywhere else. But here, in this field, nothing prevents Cas from honing on Dean’s whole being with everything he has. “What do you mean?” he asks carefully.

“I dunno,” Dean says, his face scrunching up, “I thought it would be more awkward. But… it doesn’t feel any different.”

Cas blinks. “Why should it?” he asks, and though he’s not definitively sure what Dean means by ‘it’, he has a very strong suspicion.

Dean shoots him a pointed look. “Because you don’t tell someone you love them and expect everything to be OK after.”

Cas lays down next to Dean. Staring up at the wispy clouds overhead, he says, “If it changes anything, I didn’t expect to be around for the after part.” Dean’s head turns to look at him, but Cas can’t bring himself to see whatever expression is on his face. “If you’d like for us to go our separate ways after this, I understand.”

“You stupid bastard,” Dean mutters vehemently, “for the last goddamn time, I did not piss off the immortal Blob just to tell you to go fuck yourself in person.”

Cas inhales a slow breath, breathing in the dirt, wildflowers growing nearby, and Dean. “You kissed me,” he says.

“You said you loved me,” Dean shoots back.

“Did you mean it?”

“Did you?”

Cas grimaces as he turns his head to face him. “I thought it was obvious.”

Dean swallows. “No, it wasn’t,” he says quietly, “but I’ve never been good at that stuff.”

Cas squints at him. “You are the most emotionally intelligent man I’ve ever met.”

“What?”

Cas rolls his eyes. “You expertly navigate and manipulate people’s emotions to get them to talk to you, open up to you, have sex with you,” he lists. “It’s extraordinary to witness.”

Dean makes a choking noise. “Dude,” he says, which tells Cas absolutely nothing. A few more clouds pass by before Dean speaks again. “I guess the signs were there - with you. But I didn’t want to put them together.”

“Why not?”

Dean shrugs, his shoulders scraping almost inaudibly against the soil and grass stems. “Just didn’t.”

“Then that’s why I didn’t tell you. But, Dean-” Cas breaks off. This part of the conversation, despite what Dean said earlier, does not feel the same as others between them. 

Dean’s eyes flick to his. “Yeah?”

“You kissed me.”

Dean inhales a sharp breath. “I did,” he says at last.

Cas waits, but Dean doesn’t elaborate. “Was it just a ploy to get me to leave the Empty?”

“No.”

Cas grimaces. Not for the first time, his life would be so much easier if Dean could communicate without speaking in riddles or hiding every third word he wanted to say. “Dean...”

“I told you I’m working on it,” Dean says defensively.

Cas closes his eyes. “What does that mean?” he asks, his voice strained.

“It means I’m working on it,” Dean says shortly. But before Cas can press him further, he lets out an explosive sigh. “It means I don’t want to hear any more goodbyes from you. It means - it means that kiss wasn’t too bad, right?”

“I thought you were a fake version of yourself created to torture me for eternity,” Cas says flatly.

Dean props himself up on his elbows. “So all I’m hearing is there’s room for improvement.”

Cas rolls his eyes as Dean scoots closer, peering down at him. “I suppose that’s one way you could look at it.”

“Would you wanna... do something like that again?” Dean asks, his expression confident while his voice is anything but.

“Only if you want to,” Cas says seriously.

Dean licks his lips. He nods once, the movement stilted.

“Should I sit up?” Cas asks, frowning, as he half-lifts his head. “Or do you want to lay back down-”

“Cas,” Dean says impatiently, “it’s kissing we’re talking about here, not Twister.”

“I have played that game before.”

“Yeah, I remember now,” Dean says, a tentative smirk hiding in the corners of his mouth. “You ever do it naked?”

Cas frowns. “There was a strict policy against nudity in the psychiatric ward.”

Dean ducks his head, laughing silently. His forehead lands on Cas’s sternum, his breath warming Cas’s chest from the outside in.

“You were trying to say something arousing,” Cas says, a beat too late.

Dean shakes his head, grinning. “Something like that.”

“I would like to play naked Twister with you.”

Dean’s eyes sparkle with amusement. “Glad to hear it,” he says as he leans over Cas. Cas goes a bit cross-eyed to keep him in view until Dean murmurs, “Relax. ‘S just me.”

In the instant before their lips meet, Cas half-expects the whole world around him to splatter apart in a tidal wave of black, otherworldly goo. But Dean is gloriously solid, gloriously human, as he cradles Cas’s half-raised head, his fingers tangling in his hair. 

The midday sun shines; the grass whispers in the wind; and Cas is saved.

#destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #15x18 au #15x20 au #fix-it #canon divergence #canon au #profoundnet #rae writes fic #psychological torture #angst