#brought to you by the fact that the grass has (thankfully) not been cut yet outside my work

[kristsune]

I dont think this should be a controversial opinion, but grass should be allowed to grow long enough to look like waves in the wind

#just my onion #nature #it just looks so beautiful #brought to you by the fact that the grass has (thankfully) not been cut yet outside my work #it looks so lovely and lush and green and pretty #please just let it be

[messers-moony]

Chaser at Heart | J.P

Paring: James Potter X Fem!Reader

Summary: Without realizing it James Potter has always been a Chaser regardless of his Quidditch position.

Everybody wondered where James Potter got his snitch that he played with. Rumors had been created, but only James and Y/n knew the real truth. The most common story was that James and his Marauders nicked it from a supply closet. The honest question was, why did James play with a snitch when he was a Chaser?

Y/n knew. James - even as a boy - had brilliant reflexes. They met in a field that was near both their houses. James went to the field to sit by the lake or even swim in the lake. Y/n climbed the trees and read books on the safety of the wooden bark. But one day, she wasn’t as lucky. Y/n fell from the branch she was sitting on, and James chased after her to catch her. 

Brilliant reflexes James had. At eight years old, he caught her and ran fast enough to do so. Y/n was waiting for impact, but she never felt it. Instead, two arms had been wrapped around her. One under her knees and one around her back. Instantly she was met with hazel eyes. 

They were beautiful. A gorgeous mix of green and brown. But it wasn’t mixed like paint - no - it was mixed like old and vinegar, separated but together. His hair was shaggy and a mess. It was a beautiful chocolate brown color to match the brown in his eyes. The grass could resemble the green in his eyes. Peonies represented the pink in his cheeks. 

The boy smiled, and Y/n smiled sheepishly back, “Afternoon.”

“Afternoon, sir.”

“Sir?” James repeated teasingly, “Do I look thirty?”

Y/n laughed, “Sorry. Force of habit.”

James set her on her own two feet, “Pureblood then too?”

“How did you know I was a witch?”

“Your scarf.”

She looked down to see the gold and maroon-colored scarf, “Oh. In that case, yes, I am a pureblood. You?”

“Me too.” James stated proudly, “Family of Gryffindors.”

“Me as well.”

James took her hand and kissed the back of it, “James Potter, at your service.”

Y/n blushed at his action, “Y/n L/n, at your service.”

From that point, Y/n and James became close friends. They’d switch between going to the lake or climbing trees. Thankfully their families knew each other, so becoming friends only brought them closer. In fact, Euphemia was so grateful to have Y/n’s mother closer now that their children were friends. Fleamont was delighted to be closer with Y/n’s father. 

Fleamont Potter delved in Potion making while his wife Euphemia worked at St. Mungo’s, helping wizards and witches all around London. Y/n’s father worked with magical creatures, and her mother worked with Euphemia. James and Y/n got extraordinarily lucky. They were together almost every day. 

Meeting at the age of eight gave them three years of being friends before going to Hogwarts. They were close by the age of eleven - really close. They stood side by side as they got on the Hogwarts Express and shared a compartment. James and Y/n talked animatedly until a knock at the container startled them. 

“Um- Hello, everywhere else is full. May I sit?” 

The boy had sandy hair and green eyes. Scars littered his body as far as the eye could see. He was rather tall for an eleven-year-old too, but he seemed nice enough. His voice had a thick welsh accent. It made his language a bit incoherent, but James and Y/n knew what he was trying to say. Nevertheless, James put on a bright smile. 

“Of course!”

He gave a nervous smile looking at Y/n, “Come on. We don’t bite. Although James gets pretty loud.” Y/n smiled.

The boy sat hesitantly beside Y/n, “I’m Remus, Remus Lupin.”

“Brilliant to meet you, Remus; I’m James Potter.”

“And I’m Y/n L/n.”

Another hour went by with James and Y/n starting to get to know Remus. They learned that he was a half-blood and that he thoroughly enjoyed books. Y/n and Remus bonded over that while James was listening aimlessly, just enjoying the sound of Y/n’s voice. But another knock interrupted the conversation. This time a more confident boy showed up. 

He was about the same height as James. He had dark brunet hair - darker than James’ - and blue-grey eyes. His smile was almost perfectly white and straight. His face structure was defined and chiseled. A cocky smiled grazed his features. 

“‘Ello!” He exclaimed, “I was wondering if I could sit here. I just got kicked out of every other compartment.”

Remus and Y/n shrugged; they looked at James, “Sure.” James replied, patting the seat beside him, “Come sit, uh….”

“Sirius, Sirius Black.” Sirius finished sitting beside James as both purebloods dropped their jaws. 

“Black? As in the Noble House of Black?” Y/n questioned, and Sirius nodded, “Indeed.”

James stuck out his hand, “James Potter.” Sirius shook his hand. 

“Y/n L/n.”

“You two are purebloods too. Gryffindor purebloods.” Sirius commented, “Yep!” They replied simultaneously. 

Sirius eyed the nervous-looking boy, “And you?”

“Rem- Remus Lupin.” 

The entire rest of the trip - seven hours - was spent talking—no more interruptions. Y/n, Remus, James, and Sirius all got to know each other. The four of them stayed together through everything until the sorting. They all stood near each other while Professor McGonagall began to call names. James was practically shaking in his boots. Y/n grasped his hand tightly. 

“You’ll be okay.” Y/n whispered, and James squeezed her hand thankfully, “Thanks, you too.”

Multiple names were called in alphabetical order of last name until finally B’s were beginning to get called, “Sirius Black!”

Y/n kissed his cheek, making Sirius blush profusely, “You’ll be fine.”

Sirius nodded as he pushed his way through the crowd of first years. Anybody in the wizarding world knew about the Noble House of Black. They were one of the most respected pureblood families. Most known for their line of Slytherins. Sirius Black sat on the stool and waited patiently as the hat spoke in his ear. His cousins watching eagerly from the Slytherin table. 

Silence cut through the crowd until, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The Great Hall was as quiet as a mouse. A Black in Gryffindor? The rival house to Slytherin, that was a no-go. James and Y/n exchanged nervous glances that said everything that needed to be - Sirius Black was going to be in big trouble. More names got called. Remus began to rock on his heels nervously. 

“Remus Lupin!”

Again, the process repeated itself. Remus took his seat on the stool, and the hat was placed upon his head, making its commented in the boy's ear. Remus’ hands wouldn’t stop moving, and it was making Y/n want to throw up. 

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The Gryffindor table yelled and cheered. Sirius Black upon them as a blissful smile placed itself upon Remus’ features. He stepped off the stood giving James and Y/n a grateful smile before sitting beside Sirius at the Gryffindor table. A red and gold tie was placed around his shoulders. His green eyes crinkled due to the cheerful smile on his lips. 

Attendance seemed to be going slower - or so that’s how it felt - because of how close they were approached the P’s. James’ grip on Y/n’s hand began to get tighter, and his hand began to feel clammy. Y/n didn’t mind. 

“James Potter!”

“Oh, Merlin…” James muttered before squeezing Y/n’s hand one more time. 

Before stepping on the stool, he looked back at Y/n, who gave him a reassuring smile. James Potter sat upon the seat, and once again, the hat was placed above his hair. Within seconds the hat seemed to have made its decision. 

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Y/n screamed loudly for him along with the Gryffindor table. James’ hazel eyes met her e/c ones, and he winked. The boy took his spot across from Sirius and watched eagerly at his best friend waiting to be sorted. Sirius snapped his fingers in James' face to get his attention. 

“How’d you meet?” Sirius inquired, “Mm?”

“How did you meet her?” 

“Oh, she fell out of a tree, and I caught her.” James replied distantly, still looking at his best friend left alone in the smaller crowd. 

“She’s nice.”

James nodded at Remus’ comment, “Definitely. She’s brilliant.”

Finally, they got to her last name. James was on his tipping point, and Sirius smiled reassuringly - like she had when he began to sit on the stood, “She’ll be fine. You know that.”

“I do, but still.”

Y/n couldn’t fathom her excitement yet nervousness. She was a walking contradiction. Carefully, not to step on her robes while her legs felt like jelly, she moved through the relatively small crowd. Only about ten kids remained now. Y/n sat on the stool and made direct eye contact with James, who threw her the most reassuring look possible. 

“Curious, very curious.” The hat spoke in her ear, “Loyal, hardworking yet courageous and stupidly brave.”

Y/n almost snickered, “What a brilliant Hufflepuff you’d make.”

“Please, Gryffindor. Please, Gryffindor.” 

“Gryffindor? Are you sure?” The hat queried, “Please.” Y/n begged. 

If the sorting hat could’ve shrugged, he would’ve, “If that’s what you think.”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

James stumbled from the Gryffindor table as Y/n got off the stool with the same smile Remus had. The blissful, relaxed, and cheery smile. On his way out from the table, he almost fell, but he chased his way to her until Y/n was wrapped in his arms. Y/n placed her nose in the crook of his neck while James’ face was buried in her hair. They pulled away, and James led her to sit beside him. 

“Told you she’d be fine.” Sirius remarked, “I worry.” James retorted with a smile. 

Y/n fiend offense, “You were worried! Where’d you think I’d go? Slytherin?”

“Absolutely not!” James exclaimed, “Jus’ didn’t want to be separated from you.”

She nudged his shoulder with hers, “You aren’t getting rid of me.”

“Neither are you two.” Y/n pointed at the boys across from her, “Welcome to our group of four.”

“We’ve gotta come up with a better name for that.” Remus replied as the other three nodded, “Definitely.”

The boys and the girls had different dormitories. Y/n shared her dorm with three other girls named Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, and Lily Evans. Meanwhile, James, Remus, Sirius shared a dorm where they met a new boy with blond hair and blue eyes named Peter Pettigrew, who quickly was added to their group of four, which was now five. 

James and Y/n shared almost every class aside from History of Magic and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Instead, Y/n had History of Magic with Remus and Lily. At the same time sharing Defense Against the Dark Arts with Remus as well. She also became quick friends with her roommate, Marlene, through Quidditch. Y/n always admired James while he practiced being Chaser, while Y/n was his fake Keeper. 

Throughout first year the new additions to their original duo learned how mischievous these two were. Y/n had an intelligent mind with practically foolproof plans, and James had the resources to make those plans work. Sirius was quick to join their prank-making wonders while Remus tended to stick with Y/n in making plans. Peter joined whenever he could. 

Soon enough, the group was known as the pranksters around Hogwarts. Surprisingly enough, they were proud of their newfound title. They were all sitting in the boys' dorms. James, Y/n, and Sirius were talking about Quidditch. Peter was practicing the new incantation that Professor Flitwick had taught them, and Remus was reading. When out of nowhere, Remus exclaimed. 

“I got it!”

“Got what, mate?” James questioned as the chatter stopped, and they all looked at the sandy-haired male, “Our group name!”

Y/n perked up, “Whatcha got, Remmy?”

“The Marauders!”

“Marauders?” Sirius repeated, confused, “What does that mean?”

Remus sighed, and Y/n giggled, “Marauders is another word for raiders, you idiot.”

“I like it.” Sirius commented, “I do too!” Peter interject. 

The three looked at the original duo; Y/n shrugged, “Good call, Rem.”

“How about it, James?” 

“I think it’s excellent! The Marauders it is!” 

Henceforth, their legacy grew and were now known as the five Marauders. They were all known for something. James, good at getting resources. Sirius, good at persuading. Peter, the most logical. Remus, the brains of every mission. Finally, Y/n, the most reckless. Y/n is the one who’d go in first always; she was also the one with the most detentions. 

In the second year, Y/n became more intuitive, observant, and curious about Remus. She noticed in the first year a pattern of when he’d get sick or his mother's sudden illness once a month. She was no stranger to these creatures as her father had worked with them for years. So before the first full moon of the new term, Y/n pulled Remus aside. 

“You said you wanted to speak with me?” Remus inquired, and Y/n nodded, “I know.”

“Know about what?”

“I know.” 

Remus rocked on his heels, “O- Oh….”

“Don’t worry, nobody else knows. Although they may have or will find out.” Y/n assured, but Remus still looked nervous, “Remus.”

She placed her hands on his taller shoulders, “You aren’t a monster. I’ve seen werewolves before.”

“You- You have?”

“My father works with magical creatures.” Y/n answered, “Werewolves are included.”

“Personally, I think they’re beautiful.” She stated, and tears grew in Remus’ eyes, “You do?”

“Of course, I do.” Y/n smiled, and Remus pulled her in for a hug, “Thank you.”

“Anytime and if you need anything. I’m here for you.”

“Thank you.”

Eventually, Sirius found out next, which quite honestly baffled Remus. Then James and then finally Peter, who was definitely the most oblivious of the Marauders. But to Remus’ astonishment, they were all accepting. They loved Remus as much as his mom, which - in reality - was quite a lot. Every night after full moons, he’d find all four of them sitting beside him. 

James would bring games to play for when he felt up for it. Peter got his books and set them on the table beside him. Sirius brought sweets and his stupidly funny jokes. Y/n held his hand and comforted him the best he could. Honestly, Y/n gave the best head scratches, and he definitely took advantage of it. 

Second-year was also the time for new Quidditch players to join the team. James and Sirius were about to try out but were undeniably nervous. The morning of, neither of them ate, too worried to think about eating, scared of throwing it up later on the pitch. 

“You both are tossers.” Y/n suddenly stated, “You’ll both make the team, and then we’ll celebrate it later, yeah?”

They nodded, “Good. Now get yourselves outta this funk. It’s annoying.”

It was unavoidable. They didn’t just get out of their funk until they got on the pitch. Before James and Y/n separated - her to the seats and him to the pitch - he took ahold of her hand. Squeezing it tightly with his eyes closed. His broom in his other hand that was trembling slightly. Y/n took her hand from his and placed her hands on his cheeks. 

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

“Promise promise?” James asked, “Promise promise.” Y/n confirmed. 

She let go of his face and began to run off to catch up with Remus, “Good luck!” 

“Thanks.” James murmured to himself, “I’ll need it.”

Without a doubt, James was the best Chaser the Gryffindor had ever seen. Sirius was one hell of a beater too. Marlene even tried out for the new Beater position too. Four parts needed to be filled due to seventh-years leaving. Two Beaters, one Chaser, and one Keeper. Y/n and Remus were crossing their fingers that they all got the positions they wanted. 

The following week the results were posted. James, Sirius, and Marlene made the team! Y/n would never forget the gleeful smile that passed its way onto James’ face or the way Sirius laughed. She’d never seen them so happy before. Remus and her stood feet away from their little party, his arm thrown around her shoulders. 

“It’s nice to see them this way.”

“It is.”

Remus teasingly nudged her hip, “Seems like James has always been a Chaser.”

“What's that suppose to mean?” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows at the lycanthrope, “You’ll see it eventually.”

Y/n didn’t pry. It wasn’t worth it, especially when it’s with Remus. Remus was the ultimate secret keeper and cynical. He said things that made you think but would never tell you what they mean. Eventually, more years passed and they were in the summer going into their seventh year. 

James invited Y/n to stay the summer at the Potter manor, and she did. It was possibly one of the best summers he’s ever had with her being so close. Mrs. Potter seemed to know what Remus was talking about when she threw looks at her husband when the two best friends were together. But it was one evening that they were all watching a movie when someone came through the Floo Network. 

They jumped up from the couch to see a roughed-up Sirius Black, “Sirius!” 

James was frozen along with his two parents, but Y/n wasn’t. She was haste to get Sirius up from the floor to help him stand. He had a nasty cut below his right eye and what seemed to be more all across his body which his mother could only do. But instantly, Y/n had been ordering James around while Sirius laid on his back on the couch. 

Thankfully, Y/n knew what to do and Euphemia, but she was frozen, still watching her son's best friend take care of their other best friend. James set everything she needed beside her as she began to work quickly. James sat next to her in case she needed anything else. Y/n tore off his shirt and lifted his pants to right over the edge of his boxers. 

“James, hold his hand.” Y/n ordered, and he did it, “I’m so sorry, Sirius, but this’ll sting.”

And it did. Sirius groaned and constantly hissed as Y/n helped his wounds, the muggle way. Euphemia stared in shock, no longer frozen, but it was evident that Y/n had complete control over the situation and needed no extra help. Within an hour, Sirius was brand new. Y/n had carefully used potions and other bandages to help. 

“What happened, Sirius?” 

He chuckled bitterly, “My mother.”

“No shit.” James retorted, “Why?”

“I’ve been burned off the tapestry. I’m not aloud back because I denied them.”

“Denied them?” Y/n inquired. 

“Of you know what.”

“Oh…” Y/n whispered. 

“Yeah, oh.” Sirius chuckled again - venom lacing. 

Euphemia exchanged looks with her husband, “You’re welcome to stay here.”

“No, I couldn’t ask that of you guys.” Sirius denied hesitantly, and Fleamont shrugged, “Where else are you going to go?”

Sirius stayed silent, “We don’t mind, Sirius. You’ve stayed here before. Euphemia loves having you around just as much as I do.”

“You may not be our son biologically.” Euphemia began as she knelt in front of Sirius, “But you’ll always be our son.”

A single tear fell from Sirius’ eye, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, dear.”

James and Y/n exchanged looks of pure glee, but Euphemia caught their eye, “No mischief, you two.”

They sighed, “Fine.”

The duo pulled Sirius up from the couch and led him to his new bedroom. Euphemia watched Y/n and James work in perfect symphony as if they were a made team from the start. Fleamont pulled his wife to his side, watching them both as well. How perfectly his son worked with her. How amazingly gentle he was with her. 

“He may not know it yet, but he loves her.” Euphemia broke the silence, “Reminds me of us.”

Fleamont quirked an eyebrow, “How so?”

“You always had this dopey grin on your face. The same one James has when Y/n’s around. It’s been that way since they met. When he first mentioned her name, he had that grin. He’s chased her all these years.” 

“Perhaps our son has always been a Chaser at heart.” Fleamont commented, “Perhaps.”

It wasn’t until the first Quidditch match he realized. When he was chasing Y/n around to try and hug her after the game they had won against Ravenclaw. Y/n prohibited hugs after Quidditch matches. Yet here James was chasing her around the pitch with her a screaming mess. 

Lily, Marlene, and Remus were laughing loudly at him, “Y/n! Y/n come on!” 

“Absolutely not!” Y/n yelled while running, “I told you no hugs after matches.”

She spoke too soon because while she was talking, she had slowed down without noticing. Leaving James to wrap his arms around her from behind. He nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck while she leaned back into him. 

“See! You love my hugs.” James exclaimed, “Whatever.” Y/n retorted. 

Remus chuckled at them from afar, “They’re definitely in love.” 

“How hasn’t she seen it yet?” Lily chuckled, “Oh, he’s been chasing her for years. Since before Hogwarts.” Remus replied. 

“Chaser at heart that one,” Sirius stated putting his arm around the lycanthrope. 

James realized it then and there. With her in his arms. He was sweaty and full of joy. She was wholly melted into his embrace. His arms around her neck and her arms on top of his biceps. James realized there was nowhere else he’d rather be than with her at this moment. So he pulled her around, facing her. 

“Y/n.” 

“James.”

Without a second thought, he pulled her in and kissed her. His arms were moving down to her waist and hers around his shoulders. He was so gentle and soft with her. As if she was the finest China he’d ever owned. Godric James was so soft and so sweet. Y/n’s hands went through his sweaty hair. 

The whistles and cheers are what pulled them apart, “Finally!”

“It’s about time you realized!” Remus exclaimed happily, “He’s been chasing you for years!”

Y/n smiled at him, and James put his arm around her shoulder, “My chaser.” 

“I’ll always chase you, love.”

Years later, that snitch James always played with would be the same one McGonagall had taken from him one day in the seventh year. It was the same snitch that Harry had almost swallowed in his first year. The same snitch that Dumbledore returned to Harry in his seventh year. 

The snitch? It was given to James from Y/n when they were nine. It was an honorary friendship gift. The snitch wasn’t stolen. The snitch wasn’t nicked. The snitch was a gift to a chaser who never stopped chasing till the very end. 

#james potter #james Potter x you #james potter x reader #james potter smut #james potter x y/n #sirius black smut #sirius black imagine #sirius black x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader smut #sirius Orion black #remus lupin fluff #remus fluff #remus lupin smut #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #Remus John Lupin #james fleamont potter #marauders fluff #marauders #marauders x reader #marauders smut #marauders imagine #marauders map #moony #padfoot #prongs #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #Harry Potter

[straighttohellbuddy]

how the light gets in {Corpse Husband}

2. you’ve gone way too fast for way too long.

Summary: Supernatural Creatures AU. Them/Them Reader. After the success of your first stream, you find yourself wanting to get back to your YouTube roots, and what better way to do that than with a cover by one of the bands who holds a special place in your heart? And maybe you’re using it to distract yourself from thinking about how coming back to YouTube means coming back to the things - the people - you’d left behind. 

Maybe it’s selfish, but Corpse kind of wishes you hadn’t come back to YouTube; honestly, if anyone else had taken the world by storm, he wouldn’t complain half as much, except it’s you and he’s still mostly convinced that you might be an angel like him... Except better. Because of course you would be a better angel, you’re talented and driven and personable and essentially everything an angel should be, and - bar the talented bit, Corpse at least knows some of his worth - you’re everything he’s pretty sure he’s not. Except it seems like everyone loves you, and he doesn’t exactly have a good enough reason to be bothered by you the way he is, so he has to act like he isn’t. Which is a lot easier said than done, when you barely say a word to him and it feels like all of his suspicions are confirmed. 

A/N: 8471 words. Reader in the fic is stated to be 24. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH SUPERNATURAL THE TV SERIES. me, trying to walk the line between 3rd person omniscient narrator and trying to make the narration feel like its somewhat coming from the POV character?? it’s more likely than you think! as always, i really appreciate feedback.

{ m a s t e r l i s t }

Taglist: @nanasort @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian @theboywhocriedlupin @taikalinna @jaychirps @bingusmode @divine-artemis @realmejay @lovemelikepercy @balla-deer @miniritzcrackers @loraleiix @ppopty @easygoingtheatre @insanedeathwish @siriuslystupid @losvertown @janiathecat @wineandionysus @moonlightsimp @allylyew @chokingonflxwers @sicnesa @xxniksxx @mishisamess @preciousskye @yashinosakura @meleekabenjamin @whatamievendoinghere01 @lxurxn-02 @liljennyx3 @the-fusionist @benjaminka @lilysdaydreams @a-lonely-bic @letsloveimagines @melmachh @tama-chan-suneater @shio-yuki @fairywriter-oracle @easygoingtheatre @pixelbxtch @dreammoutlouddd @abysshaven @mediocrearistophanes @tsukishimawh0re @inkbyajm @jordiee95 @honkcorpse @kaiihaan @takenbyheartstrings @mrtony-stank1 @dangeroustreebread @xibrokensunriseix @corpseglider @artsyally @ellsbells2143 @machine-gun-casie @marvelsmurphy @bigmac-papi @danielle143 @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @starstruckllamapuppy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @fee-btheweeb @parkerpeanuts @fanfictionenthusiast @evans-dejong @pancakebinnie @minbunbun @sabrinarahaman @thefangirl05 @jades-bullshit @fo-love @roses-and-grasses @thirstyfangirl @lovelysmp @325575 @wrongcielo @lukathecrime @lunariasilver @delicrieux @rebloogggs @kookiesandtae7 @mizxkii @effielumiere @happyyyandcrazyyy @teenageguitarist @prettylittlealiengirl @aroyalharknessblr @kylie-writes-stuff @annshit @haunteddeputymugpersona 

taglist is always open! message me if you’d like to be added xx

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The day after your song drops, it’s on Spotify’s Top 50 Viral playlist, it’s charting on iTunes, it’s splattered across the internet, according to your manager, who sees fit to text you, congratulating you on what she assumed to be a masterful marketing tactic; releasing the song and immediately streaming alongside huge YouTube creators who have a wide and diverse fanbase, all plugging your music. She thinks it was a carefully calculated move, which makes you feel all kinds of scummy, like you were using your new friends. Thankfully, when you fire a somewhat defensive response about how you had no ulterior motive, that all you wanted to do was have fun and make friends, your tone apparently reads loud and clear, as you receive an apology a few moments later. Backtracking, she simply mentions that, even unintentionally, you had great timing, and she’s glad you had a good time, which is better, and you try not to dwell on your initial assumption. Years of your life had been spent worrying that the people you were close to just thought you were using them for views or fame; her words did little to quell that worry, so instead you tried to distract yourself, or at the very least, focus on the good that yesterday had brought about.

The best, of course, was Sykkuno, the hellhound who’d endeared himself to you almost immediately. Something about him makes you feel safe, though perhaps it’s that you’re unused to someone feeling so familiar; you like to think you’re a good judge of character, so for now, you’re trusting in your instincts, trusting in Sykkuno. The next best thing was a tie, between friends and freedom. Yesterday you’d been doing what you wanted to do, not what you thought you should be doing, not what was on brand, or carefully scripted; you were messy, stumbled over your words, and you laughed and deceived your friends as was the aim of the game, it was so freeing to be unfiltered. People kept saying it was nice to see you smile, to hear you laugh again. Huh. Part of you really doesn’t like that you know exactly what they mean, and more importantly, why people are saying that at all. But things are different now, are freer now; your brand was built on you, it’s nice to get back to that.

By mid-morning, you’d been sprawled out on your sofa for almost an hour, glad to be alone, to not have to worry about being seen, as you’ve phased your tail back into reality, and have it holding up your phone as you scroll through Twitter with one hand and fidget idly with the other. More and more you’re seeing supportive comments from people gushing about the few bars you’d sung of 5 Seconds of Summer’s Youngblood on stream yesterday. First your chat had loved it, now it seems the general consensus was that people would love for you to cover more than a few bars. While you tried not to listen too much to what other people wanted, you couldn’t help but admit that it was something you definitely wanted too.    

When you text your manager, new idea already taking hold of your focus, your earlier unsavoury text conversation seemingly forgotten, your manager reminds you that you should be working on your new album, putting together the tracklist for your EP. Ugh. 

It’s not that you didn’t have ideas, quite the opposite; you’re exploding with ideas, brimming, overflowing with them, for songs you wants to write and feelings you can’t express any other way, but the songs and collaborations you’ve already completed, their mp4 files sitting neatly on your desktop, you wanted to save them for the full album, like it was some sort of penance for getting to collaborate, getting to become friends with people you looked up to, people who inspired you. To you, their contribution was worthy of your full album. 

Well, that was part of the reason, the other part was that the songs you had designated for the album had a different vibe to your EP songs; albumtouralbumtour and imposter syndrome had both been written in lockdown, about very specific concerns you were having at the time. The EP was shaping up to capture a very specific moment in time, while the album was so much more than that. You couldn’t put read at five am on the EP, the collaboration you’d done with Troye, a lyrical-lament with a dissonant, upbeat melody, an apology for when you’re the one who cuts off contact with someone you’re close to and don’t know how to say why, and don’t know how to come back; yes, the fact that you and Ethan are talking again means that the song is technically relevant to this period of time, but it’s three years of regret and indirect apology compressed into in three minutes. It’s going on the album. 

But being stuck at home all day for months had made you all nostalgic for your roots, for when you’d started uploading all the way back in 2012, at 16, with no idea what a few videos would lead to. You missed covering songs you loved, the songs other people had written and that you had still connected with, the songs that made you want to write your own. Yes, you loved your own content, obviously, but from idea to video publishing, you knew a low-effort cover would take you maximum a day and a half if you were particularly inspired, which you clearly were. By now, you’d been doing this for so long that you knew the legality of it all like the back of your hand, and were in a stable enough place to be more than happy to pay royalties to the band you’d co-headlined alongside for your first international tour.

“What if I call the boys and ask them?” You decided to just call your manager directly, tail curled securely around your phone where you’d put her on speaker, pottering around your kitchen trying to find something to eat. Alison, on the other end of the line, sighed deeply, having been fielding these sorts of calls from you about once a fortnight since lockdown had started.

“Have you finished moment before impact yet?” She countered, and you wrinkle your nose; its as if she can hear the expression through the phone with the way she continues on, not giving you a moment to cut in, “listen, I won’t tell you what to do, but you need to make a decision about your EP tracklist soon, okay? The label’s breathing down my neck, you know you have more than enough songs for it.”

“Alison, the vibes -”

“The vibes, Y/N, I know,” she sighed deeply, but you could hear the faintest smile in her voice.

“I promise I’m working on my own stuff; I think moment before impact is gonna be a collab, but I’m not sure who with yet, but if it makes you happy, once I record this 5SOS thing, I’ll work on a demo of moment for the EP,” you concede, and you hear her hum in approval, “I promise I have all the songs in my head, I just gotta make sense of which ones are the right ones for now, you know?”

“I really don’t,” you could hear her actually smiling now, so you let yourself relax for a moment, hands braced on your kitchen counter as you looked to your phone, “but I suppose that’s why you’re the musical one and I’m the manager.”

“My favourite manager,” you told her sweetly, and her answering laugh is more of a snort. 

"Call the band, maybe they can work something out for you regarding royalties, if you plan to monetise it," she suggested, and you hummed, "keep me updated, okay? Make sure you're still working on your own stuff though."

"Alison you're a national treasure," you tell her feelingly; you don't even have to see her to know she's rolling her eyes.

But you take her advice, sending 'what if I covered Youngblood and posted it to YT? I'll pay you royalties' to the mostly dormant WhatsApp group you have with 5 Seconds of Summer, despite it being about six in the morning in Australia. Callum sends back a thumbs up almost immediately. Its all the confirmation you need to get started.

As you’re hunting through your house for a pick, turning over cushions, looking through junk drawers, you hear your phone go off, and you take a moment to check, surprised by what you see. A message from Sean. Huh.

[I see you’ve finally decided to join us in the gaming community, took you long enough 😊 If you ever wanna play something, just gimme a yell, you know Id be glad to have ya on my team.]

Considering the fact that it had been three years since you and Sean had properly been in contact, you find the message both surprising, and strangely heartwarming. There were a few people you’d purposefully fallen out of contact with, plagued by your own fears and self doubts. The people who you’d seen in person almost daily were the ones who you’d felt the absence of the most, but Sean, just by his close association with those people, along with a few other international friends, had been regretfully left behind also. Here and now, you can feel just how much you’ve missed him, how guilty you feel for giving in to your own anxieties and the negativity spewed by others. 

But you know you can’t dwell on the past, on your mistakes, all you can do is be grateful for the opportunity to reconnect, and take it.

[ID: A tweet and reply conversation between @yourtwitter and @goldeny/n, followed by a single tweet by @ZeRoyalViking, and a tweet and reply conversation between @yourtwitter, and @5SOS.

@yourtwitter: someone yell at me for doing another cover instead of my original stuff. quarantine got me feeling 17 again. might do the cinnamon challenge next. or finally do that Roast Yourself trend 4 years too late. | @golden_y/n: BRUH YOU BEST NOT BE PULLING OUR LEGS | @golden_y/n: I would empty my bank account to see you roast yourself. | @yourtwitter: Please Don't Do That YouTube Is Free | @golden_y/n: 😳💀💖

@ZeRoyalViking: stream today with some familiar and not so familiar faces!!

@yourtwitter posted an image of Griffin McElroy from the My Brother My Brother & Me TV show. Griffin is a Caucasian man wearing glasses and a blue checked shirt. He is visible from the chest up and is sitting behind a desk with one arm in front of him, with his thumb out, as if counting. The image’s subtitles have been edited, now reading ‘My friends are very much into the following: Bullying me on TikTok.’ | @yourtwitter: @luke5SOS is just mad im gonna sing his song better than him. he doesn’t use twitter anymore so i have the upper hand here. | @5SOS replies with a gif of Jason Momoa, who is incredibly muscular, with dark hair down to his shoulders, a black tank top, and sunglasses on, holding a microphone, standing in a confrontational manner, captioned ‘No, no, no. By all means, speak your mind. You got a problem with my boy?’ | @yourtwitter: HE WENT LIVE UNPROMPTED TO TELL PEOPLE ABOUT HOW I WROTE NOTIMETOSLEEP IN THREE DAYS WITH NO ACTUAL SLEEP, OPENED FOR THEM IN ARIZONA, AND IMMEDIATELY PASSED OUT FOR 16 HOURS AFTER WALKING OFF STAGE | @5SOS: we just miss you tho... and it is kind of funny. | @yourtwitter: the minute im allowed to safely leave lockdown im coming to australia to german supplex the lot of you. ❤️

End ID.]

Corpse’s whole ‘not thinking about you’ plan goes down a lot smoother when you’re not actively stealing his friends- what kind of Angel goes around stealing another person - another Angel’s, no less - friends?! Except, right, he doesn't actually have proof that you're an angel, just a hunch he’s apparently committed to... and, okay, you don't know you're stealing them... Sykkuno and Rae are allowed to have more than one friend. Obviously.

"Honestly, I'm still kind of riding the high from yesterday's stream," Sykkuno’s all kinds of elated in the voice chat, and Rae's quick to chime in, matching his tone, his energy, as she agrees.

"I cannot believe Y/N played with us! I’m sorry you missed it, Corpse, I think you'd love them," Rae is adamant, to which Corpse, from behind the safety of his monitor, makes a face.

"What makes you say that?” Even as he says it, as he tries to keep the negativity from his voice, his nose wrinkles, the expression shifting his eyepatch just a little.

“I don’t know, just something about...” Rae’s voice turns thoughtful as she considers, though Sykkuno takes the chance to pipe up, voice brimming with his trademark sincerity.

“You guys have weirdly similar vibes, like kind of a similar energy?” He tries to explain before a faintly embarrassed laugh escaping him, even with Rae humming in agreement, “not the exact same, obviously, but like, I don’t know, I think you’d really like them.” The problem with having Sykkuno for a friend is that he’s almost always trying to be genuinely kind or helpful. The problem is that Corpse can tell he believes what he’s saying. 

An angelic ability that often goes overlooked, even by angels themselves, is the innate ability to tell whether or not someone’s lying. It’s like a faint buzzing, low grade tinnitus, at the sound of a lie, something that can actually be pretty effectively ignored and forgotten, but right now, the lack of buzzing with Sykkuno’s words is frankly irritating. Not that Corpse can say that, he has no real reason to be jealous of your fast forming friendships with his friends, well, not any reason he can admit to on stream.

"You know what,” Sean muses, finally joining the conversation, “It’s been a while since I properly spoke to them, but I totally get what you mean,” fucking great; of course he agrees, “did anyone invite them to play; would love to have them here if they’re up for it.” 

"I think they're working on a thing today, but I can message and ask?" It’s Sykkuno who speaks up, the barest hesitation in his voice, and to that Rae makes a proud little noise in the back of her throat. 

"You met yesterday on the stream that I organised, and suddenly you're all best buddies? Gonna be honest, I’m a little jealous,” she admits, to which Sykkuno huffs a soft laugh, uncertain of what to say, though Rae’s tone is fond and she continues on, “seriously though, good for you, dude, finally getting the recognition you deserve -"

And on the one hand, yes, Corpse would agree that Sykkuno deserved infinitely more recognition and praise than he currently received, but on the other, the speed at which you two had aparently become close - a day! It had been a day! - sets Corpse’s teeth on edge. It was all he could do to keep quiet as the others chimed in, all their sentiments mirroring Rae’s.

All this frustration and resentment was almost definitely unhealthy, he was more than aware, but something about you had fixed in his mind; if it had been anyone else, anyone less talented or personable or productive, he could have probably handled it, but you...

All he gets is two games worth of peace before Sykkuno announces that he’s gotten a reply. Aparently you’re in the middle of recording a cover. Something about knowing that fills Corpse with discomfort, with envy, like he should be working on his music instead of being here. 

"But they say they're gonna take a break in an hour or say, so they might join us for a few games," Sykkuno’s tone betrayed his bright smile, and suddenly the voice chat was flooded with excitement from almost all in attendance. 

"Wait, really? Just like that, we'll be playing with Y/N?" Leslie sounds disbelievingly hopeful, but thankfully it’s only a few moments until the next game beings. While none of the others had picked up on Corpse’s silence, his chat seemed confused. Purposefully ignoring their questions and comments on the matter, he instead gives a few comments on the game, trying to come off lighter than he was feeling. 

He’s not quite sure what he’s going to do if you join the stream, he’d never actually considered that he might one day talk to you, have to confront the person whose very existence got under his skin, who might very well be the only other person like him on this side of the world. Unsurprisingly, his head’s not in the game.

"Did you get enough sleep last night?” Rae feels the need to ask when whatever response he’d given in a meeting had just come out as an incoherent mumble. Of course he straight up laughs at her question, which is answer enough, and she clicks her tongue disapprovingly, “you’re impossible.”

“Have you drunk any water today -?”

“Sykkuno you’re dead,” Sean interrupts Sykkuno, who had broken one of the main rules of the game simply to question Corpse about his health; he’s far too caring for his own good, but moments like this make for good entertainment, “dead people can’t talk,” Corpse is grateful for all of five seconds before Sean turns on him, reiterating Sykkuno’s question like a traitor; “Corpse, have you drunk water today?” In lieu of a proper response, Corpse groans, playing at being annoyed.

“I say we vote him out because if he is the imposter, we win, and if he isn’t, he has time to go drink a glass of water,” Rae proposes matter-of-factly, which just leaves Corpse spluttering with disbelief.

“That’s fucking stupid; I’m not the imposter, you’re basically throwing the game -” but the votes are already popping up, and unfortunately, for the first time all stream, everyone seems to be in agreement.

“Drink water, Corpse,” Rae, clearly the leader of this mutiny, orders, as Corpse watches his character get flung into lava, and very begrudgingly heeds her words. He takes his sweet time drinking a full glass of water and refilling it to take back with him, intermittently glaring from his kitchen at his computer, despite the game still going on; he’s got several tasks left, if they don’t catch the imposters, they’re doomed, and honestly he doesn’t care. Once the game ends, with the crewmates’ loss, as he’d suspected, they all find themselves back in the lobby. Maybe they’re waiting for him. They can wait longer.

As he settles himself back into his office chair, he pulls on his headphones in time to hear -

“- earlier than I thought because of a whole thing on TikTok and then Twitter, and then my manager texted me telling me-” It’s like he’s turned twenty again at the sound of your voice; you, bright, earnest, rambling to probably Sykkuno or Sean or Rae, probably not even aware of him, but he’s never been more aware of you. Not that he’d ever admit it to anyone, but your second EP, hyperfocus, had been in heavy rotation on his Spotify since he’d discovered it, since he’d listened to the crack in your voice, the exhaustion with which you spoke on i’m going through some stuff when Lofi had just been taking off as a genre. He’s... conflicted, going through an internal crisis while you keep talking, blissfully unaware, “- anyways, I think she’s just worried that I’ll end up threatening to German Supplex Harry Styles, or the late, great, Prince, and I’ll end up cancelled.”

“Y/N,” your name sounds equal parts amused and concerned as Sykkuno says it, with the air of someone who’s been privy to you and your antics far longer than just one day. The response you give is just as bright and cheery as your rambling had been, assuring him that you wouldn’t threaten to German Supplex Prince.

“You sure about that?” Sean was obviously grinning, judging by his fond tone, “sounds like something you’d try -”

“I’ve changed, Jack- Sean- fuck,” your muttered swear undercuts your attempt at earnestness after you correct yourself, clearly not used to calling him by his actual name. To that, Sean gives a fond chuckle, before going right back to ribbing you.

“I’m pretty sure there’s still video evidence of you trying to square up with Mark in person,” Sean points out, to which you grow huffy and defensive, playing up your frustration. 

“Well, that was for a completely reasonable reason!”

“Which was?”

“I thought it would be funny,” tone flipping completely, the words come out so sincere and bright it’s almost tooth rotting; if he didn’t know any better, Corpse would probably find himself being endeared by it, “and it was! Plus,” though here you give pause, and something about the tone of the conversation shifts as you chew on the words you’d almost said without thinking, “it was funny,” you said, softer this time. Sean, sensing the shift, does his best to pick the mood back up, reminding you that both you and Mark lost the competition you’d been taking part in anyways, and asking if you really had changed.

Before you had time to answer, however, Rae spots Corpse’s avatar moving ever so slightly, and immediately jumps on him.

“Corpse! Did you drink water?” She asks. He unmutes so they can all hear his deep, beleaguered sigh. “I can and will bully you into taking care of yourself,” her heart’s in the right place, and it is mostly a bit, so he can’t be too put out by the fact that she cares.

“I can’t believe you all voted me out because of it,” he chooses to respond instead, and Rae’s cackle echoes through the voice call.

“She also was the imposter, so...” Ze trailed off, a little sheepishly, to which Corpse rolled his eyes, not that anyone can see. Of course she was. But he’s not even given a moments before -

“You must be Corpse!” The moment the words leave your lips, every single goddamn nerve in Corpse’s body feels like it’s alight; everything overwhelming, unfamiliar,. white-hot, he’s suddenly desperately trying to keep his various abilities in check, since he really doesn’t want to short out his whole system, end the stream early, and probably cause his building to go into a blackout, just because of whatever this is. The whole world has changed with four words; better and worse and more more than anything. It’s... it’s a confirmation of some kind, and he tries to hold onto that vindictive feeling in his chest. You are familiar, you are something he recognises like no-one else he’s ever met before; you are like him. Is it better or worse now he knows it’s the truth?

“Must I be?” He manages to respond, keeping his voice as level as he’s able, shooting for vaguely amused and trying not to let any of the past few seconds sudden overwhelming panic and triumph bleed into his voice. But the moment you hear him, there’s a sharp gasp; that same something, understanding, recognition he’d felt, you feel it too.

“Y/N, you okay?” Ze had asked, and you made a vaguely muffled noise of unconvincing confirmation. Out of sheer, idle curiosity, Corpse opened a new tab and searched up your YouTube channel where you were streaming.

“Maybe we should have warned ya’,” Sean offers with a light laugh, before lowering his voice, immitating and announcer as best as he could, “warning! Corpse is about to speak!” Which at the very least got Corpse to laugh, though he refused to give anything away as your stream loaded, and the banter continued in his ears.

“Har har,” you muttered sarcastically into the voice chat, right as the stream finished loading, and - you. Well dressed, face in your hands, heels of your palms pressed against your closed eyes; honestly, he doesn’t exactly have any prominent initial thoughts about you, watching you scrunch your face up in your hands, dealing with the same thing he had to, though your face was live to thousands. Beside you, the text chat for your stream was going almost too fast to read, but he managed to follow a few threads of thought here and there.

[an eye thing! they’ve got an eye thing!] [someone @ y/n_creature_spec on twt!!] [who has an eye thing??] [lmao love that they were so shocked hearing corpse that it set off their eye thing] [hello!! vampire here!! we have eye things!!] [u cant be a vampire it’s the middle of the day] [THERE ARE COUNTRIES OTHER THAN AMERICA YOU KNOW] [i am willing to put MONEY on the idea of them being fae of some kind.] [^^yeah they just didnt want us to see their eyes sparkling like an anime character.] [that feels like smthn corpse could bring out in people]

And then you’re blinking back to reality, bringing him from his thoughts as for one terrifying moment, it’s as if his gaze locks with yours. Expression so bright and inviting, despite the way your eyes were watering just a little, you hold eye contact with your camera for a moment before looking at your screen, mumbling something about an eyelash in your eye; Corpse lets out a shaky breath. Chat seems unconvinced, but at least the other streams take you on your word. For a few more moments, he quietly watches you, watches the way your eyes roam your screen as you order your thoughts, and for all that he’s thought of you, he’s never properly looked at you. It’s taken him until now to acknowledge that there was definitely a reason for your success beyond just your talent; certainly you could have become successful from your music alone, but your career certainly wasn’t hindered by the fact that you’re actually quite- suddenly, Corpse is overcome by the sense that he’s intruding, exiting out of the window immediately, even going so far as to push back from his desk, fingers spread wide, braced against the edge, trying not to think too hard about... any of it. If he thought too hard about what it meant to have another angel in LA, he would drive himself mad.

“Well, Corpse, it’s good to meet ya, been told great things,” to him and him alone it’s so clear you’re trying so hard to play it cool, though Corpse couldn’t fault you for that, doing the exact same thing; again, when you speak to him, it’s like his whole being is hit with a rush of warmth; it’s less overwhelming this time, somehow scalding but bearable now.

“I see Sykkuno’s been spreading lies about me,” Corpse fires off instinctually, to which Sykkuno splutters protests at the implication, despite your bright laughter, and Sean’s shout to the contrary.

“Don’t be mean, Corpse, Sykkuno would never lie about you,” Sean is adamant, and Corpse can tell he’s being honest, just as the tell-tale ringing in his ears knows the next words from Sean’s mouth are utter lies; “me on the other hand? Y/N whatever you do, do not listen to Corpse’s music, it’s just the worst.” Before the implication, the reality of what he’s saying sinks in, for just a moment, Corpse feels a rush of affection for Sean, so clearly and earnestly plugging his music, right before your voice re-joins the chat and Corpse remembers exactly who Sean is plugging his music to.

“Fuck you, J- Sean, I do what I want,” while you played along, amused and light, Corpse himself was at a loss for words. You ask him - him specifically, he knows, he knows with absolute certainty you’re asking him - if he’s a musician, and everyone else chimes in before he can even think about finding his voice.

“Don’t search him on Spotify! Don’t do it!” Sean, on the verge of laughter, seems delighted by the turn this conversation has taken as the sound of aggressive typing fills the chat from your end. What the fuck. What the fuck?! No matter his thoughts and opinions about you and your possible supernatural origins, you were still Y/N, literal Grammy winner and Golden Child from the Golden Age of YouTube, playing along as Sean used the world’s worst reverse psychology on you to get you to listen to his music. Oh fuck, this is not how today was meant to go.

“I don’t wanna hold up the game, I’ll listen as I play,” you tell them, almost painfully polite, though Ze agrees to start the next game. If Corpse’s mind wasn’t in the game before, there’s no way in hell it was now.

Three minutes into the first round and he’s failing miserably at card swipe when he chances a look at his chat; people were spamming lyrics from Miss YOU! and Cat Girls Are Ruining My Life! which was sweet but nerve wracking, since he’s pretty sure it means you’ve already listened to one and moved on to the next. If you’re an angel, and you know he’s an angel, what in the hell would you think of his music? Honestly, even if you weren’t an angel, you’re still you, and his music was... well...

When the first meeting is called, and it’s discovered that you’ve been murdered, there’s a strange sense of relief that comes with it, even as he’s being accused of your murder. He’s got a solid alibi, so they end up voting out Sean, and the game continues. Despite the brief reprieve from your possible judgement, his heart still feels as though it’s skittering erratically around his ribcage. 

Rae comes along when he’s doing Simon Says, and shoots his little avatar. The moment he becomes a ghost, he lets out a long breath, giving himself a moment to relax, to collect his thoughts, catching back up with some questions with chat  he hadn’t quite realised he’d been holding, and chances a look at his chat again.

“Of course I’m tense,” he finds himself musing quietly to his chat while the remaining players were arguing over the top of each other in a meeting, “pretty sure most of hyperfocus has been in my Spotify wrapped every year since it was released,” for a few moments, it doesn’t even occur to him what he’s said, or that he’s said it out loud, but when it hits him- oh, oh no, it feels like too much to admit, and he has no idea what to say next, how to backtrack, how to at least pretend like he doesn’t think about you or your music any more than any other person would. However much he may resent certain aspects of it, he still knows he has a reputation to uphold, and panic and denial have never been a part of his reputation.

So he keeps his mouth shut, bites down on the half-hearted excuses and explanations that keep springing to mind, keep pressing against his teeth. He does his tasks quietly, thanks the people donating, and pretend it never happened until the round ends, heart in his throat. He knows, the same way a human survivor in a zombie apocalypse movie knows, that he’s just putting off the inevitable, and that someone’s definitely already clipped it and is probably uploading it to Twitter or Tumblr faster than he could protest.

“Y/N I’m so sorry!” Sean’s the first one to talk when they’re back in the lobby, which leads to your laughter filling the voice chat, telling him it’s okay.

“I didn’t even care, honestly I was just vibing,” the smile in your voice is almost enough to distract from the strained edge to your words, something not quite right, but so faint Corpse isn’t sure if it was really there, and he’s not quite sure anyone else heard it either. Except -

“Y/N?” Sykkuno says your name like it means something that no-one but you and him can decipher, something concerned, almost a question, checking in without being too obvious. 

“Yeah?” There’s that strained tone, just a little more audible this time, before you process who’s talking, how he’d said your name, and - “yeah,” firmer, calmer, a reassurance. 

“Vibing?” And he says it like that was his question all along, like the two of you hadn’t had a full conversation in three words. When the others started asking about what you thought of the music, it’s clear none of them have picked up on the hint of strangeness that had been in your tone, and you deliberate before answering.

“Am I- is it- it’s weird if I quote it, isn’t it -?”

“Jacksepdicy how I whip that!” Sean practically yells into his microphone, cutting you off and somehow making the line sounding even more Irish than he himself did naturally, which startles a laugh from Corpse, “it’s my name in a song, I think about it daily,” he announces, voice oozing pride, and despite the situation and headspace he found himself in, Corpse feels his heart grow warm knowing that even a line like that had brought Sean joy.

“I thought,” you pause for a moment, presumably to double check which song you were about to reference, “I thought Miss YOU was a whole mood,” you admit, the faintest smile in your voice, and something tightens in Corpse’s chest at that.

“You not gonna quote it?” Rae teased.

“Too nervous to follow Sean,” you fired back.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get there one day, Y/N,” Sean laughs fondly, and you all joke around, playing up the bit, while Corpse’s mind is stuck on the fact that you never once addressed him when talking about his music. It’s not necessarily a bad thing, it meant he didn’t have to deal with the sudden, fiery sensation your voice brought with it, so not bothered, persay, if anything he’s glad to know you liked it... But it’s weird that he knows so acutely -

“Hey,” and you don’t even say his name, but there’s that feeling again. Each time it grows less intense, like he’s been inoculated, and no instead of his nerves being ablaze, it’s as if he’s suddenly sitting beside a bonfire, each and every time you speak to him. The others voice their confusion at your sudden vaguness, but Corpse answers without even thinking, because of course he knows.

“Yeah?” 

A few moments pass, while the others carry on amongst themselves for the moment. The two of you sit in this one moment together, neither quite sure how to feel about it.

“You’ve been awfully quiet,” you point out, though there was only the barest him of the earlier strangeness in your voice, now overpowered by something that made it almost sound like you were pleased. At this, however, even more confusion arises when the others figure out that Corpse had ‘guessed’ correctly, that you’d been talking to him. But he can’t really hear them, or, well, he finds himself tuning them out, swallowing hard before he pushes to talk.

“Am I not allowed to enjoy the moment?” He asked, trying to ignore the weirdness of it all, keeping his tone light.

“I’m just surprised; it’s your music after all.” 

“You like hearing my voice?” Despite the surprisingly cocky way with which he speaks, he regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth, wincing internally. Of all the people he could have said that to...  

“I never said that,” and though your own tone matched his, something teasing, something that could almost be misconstrued as flirty in the right circumstances, he’d heard the faint thread of discomfort, feeling it all too much himself. But your words, and thankfully your tone, was overshadowed by both Sykkuno and Sean jumping in to assure Corpse that they enjoyed hearing his voice.

“If you and Y/N ever collaborated, you know it’d break the internet, right?” Rae interjects, all kinds of smug and knowing, followed by a chorus of approving voices all broke out in unison as the rest of the lobby considered the possibility.

“Rae, you know our Twitter mentions are going to be going off for the next month now, don’t you?” You groaned.

“Maybe it’s a sign!” Rae exclaimed, delighted, before her tone turns teasing and fond, “and besides, aren’t your mentions always going off?”

[ID: The first four posts on Y/N’s Tumblr dashboard.

blueheart-anon hearing y/n and sean interact again after like 3 years unlocked memories like im a fucking sleeper agent. having war flashbacks to 2017′s ‘y/n is septiplier’s kid’ phase. how do i lock the memories up again im going to die of embarrassment why were we like that [tagged: #y/n #y/n y/l/n #jacksepticeye #sean mcloughlin #i WILL NOT add the ship tag i mentioned #blue talks] [7 notes] [▶️🗩↪️🖤]

fangloriousbastard  ↪️fangloriousbastard fangloriousbastard Rae: Y/N & Corpse Collab When? Y/N: 🔪 - fangloriousbastard Y/N IMMEDIATELY MURDERING RAE AND THEN CORPSE I- - fangloriousbastard Y/N MUTTERING THE JACKSEPDICY LYRIC WHILE MURDERING HIM WTF IS HAPPENING?? - fangloriousbastard SYKKUNO NO BBY IM SO WORRIED - fangloriousbastard Y/N IM BEGGING U TO STOP SAYING CORPSE LYRICS BEFORE U KILL UR FRIENDS - fangloriousbastard WAIT WHAT Y/N AND SYKKUNO BOTH VOTING FOR THEMSELVES INSTEAD OF EACH OTHER - fangloriousbastard “ride or die guess im gonna die” y/N PLEASE U MET HIM YESTERDAY - fangloriousbastard y/n’s still listening to corpse’s music we love to see it - fangloriousbastard WAIT NO ZE KILLED SYKKUNO IN FRONT OF THEM AND THEY WON OMG SO MUCH IS HAPPENING DID THESE MOTHERFUCKERS QUOTE AN ACTUAL THE OFFICE MEME AT EACH OTHER - fangloriousbastard Y/N: YOU KILLED MY BOY Ze: you’ve known him A Day! Y/N: you don’t have all the facts Ze: which are? Y/N: I love him. Y/N: Not in a weird, shippy way tho, but like, come on, man, look at him! Sykkuno’s avatar: 🌱                          👁👄👁 Sykkuno irl: 🥰 - fangloriousbastard ahem anyways corpse & y/n collab when? - y/n 🔪❤️ - fangloriousbastard 👁👄👁 - fangloriousbastard aren’t you supposed to be streaming?? [tagged: #HEWWO??? #among us lb #why do i only remember they’re following me when i post outrageously stupid content #btw y/n if u kill sean again i’ll cry] [43 notes] [▶️🗩↪️❤️]

fyahproof-y/n  ↪️ selkiey/n selkiey/n y/n’s explicit ‘i love him but not in a weird shippy way’ is the LOUDEST fandom vague i’ve ever heard in my life [286 notes] [▶️🗩↪️❤️]

crpshsbnd  ↪️ 221b-theres-a-bee crpshsbnd hope corpse is feeling okay he’s been kinda quiet this stream - 221b-theres-a-bee if someone suggested i make music with a grammy award winning artist i might be kind of quiet too - crpshsbnd asjdskldfjkdsf u right, still, hope that’s the reason. [tagged: #how do i always forget they won a grammy #actually i know why i keep forgetting #because every time i remember they won a grammy i remember the video where they jousted corndogs with joe sugg #and the winner had to deepthroat theirs for the camera #and y/n won but felt like an asshole for making joe deepthroat his corndog alone #and they ended up almost throwing up because they went too far with it #so hot #so talented #so very stupid sometimes] [3 notes] [▶️🗩↪️🖤]

Twitter is kind of a hellscape, Corpse decides, scrolling through his notifications as the stream’s winding down, seeing about a thousand different people tagging both you and him, asking for a collab, or seeing fit to show you both every single time one of you had mentioned the other in stream. Or had simply interacted. He’s not quite sure how to feel about hearing you mutter ‘make it rain, leave her wet, like a snowflake’. Unsurprisingly, a considerable few people had thought to clip the interaction where he’d apparently instinctively known you were talking to him, which he thoroughly regrets. There’s enough speculation about him online already, he doesn’t need people cluing into the fact that he might not be entirely human as well.

So now, he’s sitting idle in the lobby of the game as everyone’s thanking each other, discussing when they might get together to stream again; he’s quiet, disconnected from it all even though he knows he’s still live, he can’t help but stare at his phone, frown at your Twitter profile. You’re not following each other. A lot of his friends follow you, are mutuals with you, but you and he are not following each other, and he’s not sure if he’d like to change that. But it would make sense, right? It’s what’s expected.

Your pinned tweet is the single you released yesterday, which he still hasn’t listened to. The cover is cute; you’re - fuck. He refreshes the page. In the few moments since he’d clicked on your profile and now, you’d tweeted, thanking everyone for joining the stream, while you’re still in his ear, alongside everyone else, distinctly not addressing him. Maybe he should DM you, be upfront, ask about what you are, if his suspicions are true.

He hits the back button and goes back to scrolling through his mentions. 

“Hey.” Your voice, soft and earnest despite that warmth that crackles through him; he’s half distracted, hand moving instinctively to push-to-talk, and -

“Yeah?” God fucking damn it. Not again. He’s really gotta stop answering on instinct just because he knows you’re talking to him. He hates that he knows.

“Good to meet you, Corpse,” and there was a strange sincerity in your voice, and he responds in kind, but his heart’s not in it. There’s too much on his mind, too conflicted in his heart to tell the truth; his own words makes his ears ring. He can’t even lie to himself.

So he says his goodbyes, waits for the lobby to clear out and chatters away to his stream about when he might be on next. Upon ending the stream, he immediately opens the latest email from his producer, his latest project glaring back at him from the screen. 

Yes, his various ailments have his body aching, but the interactions he’s had with you are giving him a headache when he thinks too hard about them, and he feels woefully unproductive. Never Satisfied stares back at him, so close to being finished, mocking him. Scowling harder, he listens to what he has so far, making tweaks and notes, glad for the distraction, glad that his producer had as chaotic of a sleep schedule as he did. This was the home stretch; one more all-nighter and it would finally be done.

He texts Heartful that he’s getting to work.

It’s four in the morning when he finally stops for a break, his good eye starting to itch from staring at a screen for so long. With a yawn, he leans forward, out of his chair, groaning as he straightens up to a mostly standing position. Hands braced against the edge of his desk, he lets out a resigned sigh and wills his wings into existence. The weight of them curled up tight against his back, as was customary for them to be when non-corporeal, has him leaning a little further forward. Another yawn and he lets them uncurl, lets them stretch out behind him, knocking over an empty microphone stand as they went. He’d get that later. A grateful groan escapes him, it’s been far too long since he’d even had a half-assed stretch like this, wings helping to stretch all the aching muscles in his back that were simply impossible to stretch otherwise, no matter how much he’d twist. Even so, his studio wasn’t big enough to properly stretch them, and he really didn’t feel like laying on his living room floor right now; he’s kind of concerned he’d just fall asleep there. Instead, he kicks his chair to the side and hits shuffle on one of his Spotify playlists, doing what he can for himself in the limited space, and finally going to forage through his cupboards for something resembling a meal. Maybe drink water, Rae’s damn voice in his head.

At least with his wings around he didn’t need to bother turning on any lights; he’s gotta find joy in the little things.

Today, or well, the past twenty-four hours, was a series of cruel jokes, he decides, all leading to the moment he curls up his wings and sits back down at his desk. The moment he puts his headphones back on, he’s greeted by your voice, and he almost jumps a foot in the air, concerned that you’d called him.

"- who I became, dreading when the music stops, what if I just fade away?” In the split second he’s realised that it was just a song, just your voice, crooning, gentle and sad against a soft beat and the sound of rain, as i’m going through some stuff playing in his ears, it’s too late. Already his aura had gone off, and his computer cuts out, as his monitor cuts to darkness, so suddenly all he can see is his own, exhausted reflection in the monitor, backlit by his own wings... Not exactly flattering. 

Thankfully, it was only his computer that was affected, as he can still hear his refrigerator humming in the other room, so he wedges himself beneath his desk to reset the breaker for the power board that his whole system was connected to, grumbling to himself the whole time. 

If he was being honest, however, he was glad he didn’t have to hear more than a few seconds of your song. For a long time it had been one of his favourites, though at this point he’d rather die than admit that. Yes, it’s a good song, but it’s the last thing he needs to hear right now. If he listened to you voice half the fears he still tried to ignore, well right now it may kill him, and he was so close to being finished with Never Satisfied. So close.

Instead, he gives himself the moment in which his system is rebooting to scroll through Twitter and Instagram on his phone, checking his mentions for good fanart to appreciate, only to stumble across one of your stan accounts tagging both you and him in a clip that he hadn’t seen earlier. He’s not sure what possesses him to click it.

“Don’t follow me baby, swear I’m going to hell,” Corpse’s own words leave your lips as you’re focused on the game, on being imposter, leading Sykkuno into electrical to fix lights, and something about it sounds wrong and he can’t quite put his finger on it. He’d heard other lines of his leave your mouth, clips from the stream he’d been tagged in, and it always manages to surprise him. When you sing his songs, even just a little bit, something in the back of his mind, something that had appreciated you as an artist all this time, it’s grateful, it’s excited, it’s overwhelmed. He wouldn’t deny that part of himself, he couldn’t, it didn’t feel right, but upon hearing this line, that grateful part was overshadowed by a visceral bitterness.

The line had been a moment of self deprecation, the only Angel he knew of who, granted it was by some of his own choices, was almost certainly going to Hell, if you believe in that sort of thing of course. But you? Every single part of you seemed to be the exact antithesis to him; you’re what an Angel should be, and him? Well, the line said it all really. It’s just... it feels like you’re mocking him at every turn now that he knows, or well, strongly suspects. With evidence. Which you’re probably not; if you’re an Angel, you wouldn’t go out of your way to mock another angel, so now he’s all in his head, frustrated at himself for being frustrated at you for just... liking his song? 

He really should message you about earlier, clear things up, get out of his own mind and stop jumping to conclusions. Finding another angel was big, no matter his personal reservations, he should try and take this opportunity, right? Except that you hadn’t reached out to him either.

Damn it; he knows he needs to stop thinking about you and focus on his own shit. He turns off his phone and gently tosses it to the floor, out of sight out of mind. 

Maybe he’ll feel better when he finishes his song, feel more productive, feel... complete for just a few moments. Maybe he’d stop comparing himself to you. Maybe.

[ID: Two tweets, one from @sp00kybihh, and one from @yourtwitter, followed by a retweet and reply conversation between @ashton5sos, @yourtwitter, and @y/nirwin.

@sp00kybihh: why did y/n’s smile every time corpse just knew they were talking to him without them having to say anythign make me feel things?? u no we love day 1 ride-or-die y/nkunno, but corpse & y/n just seem to get each other wtf 🥺🥺

@yourtwitter: australians are asleep post forbidden youngblood cover

(Thumbnail of Y/N sitting in front of the camera, dressed casually, visible from the chest up. There is a black microphone on a stand in front of them that they’re holding. Their mouth is open, as if halfway through singing, their eyes are closed, their background is a simple, white wall. Above Y/N, in black, VCR font, is the word ‘youngblood’. There is a large play button in blue and white in the middle of the thumbnail, to indicate that it is a link to a video.

Link: youngblood - 5 seconds of summer | y/n y/l/n cover i miss my boys. i miss people. thank you 5sos for being cool about me covering this <3</i> twitter: @yourtwitter 🔗youtube.com)

@ashton5sos retweeted the link and commented: Y/N you said it was gonna be low effort, this is killer! All it’s missing is some drums. Reminds me, I’m still sad we never got to record that thing we wrote in New York. | @yourtwitter: ASHTON IT IS 8AM I HAVE HAD NO SLEEP AND WAS NOT EXPECTING SUCH A QUICK RESPONSE I WOULD DIE FOR YOU | @yourtwitter: also lmfao i forgot about that ny thing that was good, from what i remember. do u still have that recording of us?? i may or may not have forgotten everything about that night apart from it being a blast #bringbacknewyork | @ashton5sos: Calum has it but also its 2am and he’s asleep, which you should also do. You know the boys are gonna love this... #bringbacknewyork | @y/nirwin: thank u both i have decided to pass away effective immediately #bringbacknewyork

End ID.]

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse husband imagine #corpse imagine #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #sykkuno #jacksepticeye #valkyrae #how the light gets in #shut ur pretty mouth #cyltlanp

[buoyantsaturn]

there’s something precious about this (something so wretched about this) (3/?)

summary: the truth about Nico’s fiance comes to light

word count: 3,306

read on ao3 | read chapter one

Nico had been given a few novels’ worth of documents to read before the next meeting with his advisors. Proposals created by his advisors, treaties and trade deals with neighboring kingdoms. 

It was all horribly boring, but when Nico had gone to Will for a distraction, Will had grabbed his own book - some medical text he’d been studying - and dragged Nico outside. Will sat down against the trunk of a tree in the castle’s courtyard and pulled Nico down with him, laying Nico’s head against his chest. Will kept Nico in place with an arm across his chest, his hand keeping his book propped up on his lap. 

The proposals were still mind-numbing, but being bored out of his mind was a little bit more bearable with Will beside him. Still, he found himself starting to fall asleep not even a quarter of the way through his assigned readings. He only shook himself awake when he heard someone approaching them until there was a shadow covering the page his eyes were skimming over. 

Nico glanced up, shading his eyes from the sun as he recognized Reyna, one of the highest ranking members of the royal guard, standing above him. 

“The council would like a word with you,” she told him plainly.

Nico held up his still unfinished readings. “I haven’t finished with this yet. I told them I’d arrange a meeting once I was ready.” 

“That’s not what they intend to talk about,” Reyna informed him. “Would you quit being such a pain and follow me?” 

Nico pouted. “You can’t speak to the king like that.”

“What are you going to do,” Reyna asked blandly, “behead me?”

Nico huffed, and tipped his head back to say to Will, “I’ll find you again later. Let me up, would you?” 

Will pulled his arm away, giving Nico’s shoulder a comforting squeeze before Reyna pulled Nico to his feet. 

She led him into the castle, into the private meeting room where Nico’s council of advisors were waiting for him. Nico was sure to make his annoyance clear as he crossed the room and dropped into his usual seat at the head of the table, dropping his unread stack of papers on the table in front of him. “Could this not have waited until I had finished my readings?” 

“This matter is more important at the moment,” Lord Thanatos informed him.

Lord Minos cleared his throat. “You still have yet to introduce us to your fiance.” 

Nico choked. “Do I have to?”

“Obviously we will need to meet with your fiance in order to plan the wedding and send out the invitations--”

“Fine,” Nico cut in quickly. “Arrange a dinner for tonight, and I’ll make the introductions there.” He pushed his chair back, planting his hands on the table as he rose to his feet. “May I return to my work now?”

“One more thing,” Minos added, raising a single finger in Nico’s direction in a way that made Nico want to cut his hand off with a sword. “We can only assume that you have been spending time with your fiance unchaperoned. You must know that there is a certain image of the kingdom that we must maintain, and in order to keep that image intact, it would be best that you not be caught doing anything...unsavory with your fiance.” 

Nico felt himself flush, at the fact that his advisor would say such a thing aloud, and at the sudden, unapproved thought that passed through his mind of doing unsavory things with Will. “Are you going to tell me that, once the introductions are made, I won’t be allowed to spend any time with my own fiance?” 

“Of course not,” Lord Thanatos assured him. “You won’t be allowed to spend any time alone with her. Reyna has already agreed to acting as your chaperone until further notice - she is to keep you from behind like anything other than a royal, and prevent you from soiling your fiance before the wedding.” 

If Nico wasn’t bright red before, he surely resembled a ripe tomato now. “If that’s everything?” he said through gritted teeth. 

The advisors exchanged looks, as if double checking that they’d covered every topic, and then nodded. “You are dismissed,” Thanatos told him, and Nico didn’t hesitate to swipe his papers off the table and bolt from the room. 

Reyna kept up with him, always remaining a few steps behind, as though she was his shadow. As Nico threw open the exterior doors, attempting to return to the courtyard, Reyna stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Don’t you think you should inform your fiance of tonight’s dinner before you return to your work?”

“Let me worry about my own affairs,” Nico snapped, and pushed open the doors. 

Will was sitting exactly where Nico had left him. Nico didn’t hesitate to sit down beside him once again, leaning into his side as if he’d never left. 

“That was quick,” Will commented, lifting an arm to wrap around Nico’s chest once more, allowing him to fully settle in.

“It would have been easier for them to have had Reyna pass a message along,” Nico grumbled, turning his focus back to the papers in his hands, shuffling them as he tried to remember where he left off. “Oh, by the way. There’s going to be a dinner in the grand dining room this evening. You’re invited.” 

“I am?” Will asked, finally lifting his gaze from his medical texts. He spotted Reyna standing a short distance away, at attention, as if guarding the area - though her eyes tended to stick to Nico more often than their surroundings. “Um. Why is Reyna still here?” 

Nico groaned and rolled his eyes. “I’ve been given a chaperone. She’s supposed to keep me from doing anything unsavory with my fiance.”

Will pressed his lips together, though that wasn’t enough to rein in his laughter. “Unsavory, really? What sorts of things do they think you’re doing with this mysterious fiance of yours, in your very limited free time?”

Nico hummed. “They probably wouldn’t be happy about this position we’re laying in, first of all. Second, they likely wouldn’t approve of the murder scene they’ll find if you don’t stop laughing at me.” 

Will nodded. “You’re right. Murder is just as unsavory as whatever the council thought we were getting up to.”

Nico had gone to change before dinner, knowing the council as a whole would scold him as a parent would a child if he showed up with grass stains on his clothes. He had made Will promise to change into something a bit dressier as well, though Nico had no intentions of breaking out his most formal clothes for a simple business dinner. 

Because that’s all this was, really. Nico’s life had become a tool for the council to use in order to make better deals with neighboring kingdoms. Deep down, he’d always known that would happen, but he’d also assumed that being king would give him at least a bit of power.

Whatever. At least he would feel some control once he had the chance to introduce Will as his fiance. He smiled to himself in the mirror after he’d finished being dressed for dinner, thinking about the looks on each of his advisor’s faces as he brought a man with him to dinner. He suddenly found that he was more excited than anything else. 

Reyna cleared her throat from the doorway, and Nico turned to look at her. “His Majesty seems to be forgetting something,” she commented. 

Nico glanced down at himself - he was fully dressed, decently accessorized. He was wearing the skull-shaped ring that had been pried off his father’s cold finger after his death and had been passed on to Nico as a symbol of the shift in power. His hair had even been pulled back and out of his face, so Nico couldn’t imagine what he could possibly be forgetting.

“Have you forgotten your fiance so quickly?” Reyna asked when Nico only looked at her in confusion. “How will she know to attend tonight’s dinner if you never bothered to tell her?” 

Nico grinned, which seemed to throw Reyna off slightly, which only brightened his smile. He added another face to his list of ones to watch when he made the introductions that evening. “My fiance will be there,” he assured her, and moved past her to leave the room.

He took his time walking to the dining room, knowing he was a bit ahead of schedule, though as he paused outside the doors, servants and lesser nobles alike kept trying to usher him inside.

“No, thank you,” Nico told them each and every time, “I’ll wait here for my fiance.” 

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long before he saw Will rushing into the castle, tripping over his own feet and struggling to button the last few buttons on his shirt as he moved. He had changed from the clothes he’d been wearing earlier in the day, though what he was wearing now was barely a step up in formality. Still, at least his shirt was collared and his pants were without rips or snags. 

Nico grinned the second he laid eyes on him, and as soon as Will looked back, he smiled as well. “Hi,” Will said, sounding out of breath as he approached, still fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. “Sorry, I got caught up in reading, and I lost track of time, and-- This stupid button--” 

Nico stepped closer, swatting Will’s hands away as he did, and carefully slipped the button into place. “You’re here now,” Nico told him, straightening the collar of Will’s shirt after he finished with the button, “and that’s what’s important.” Will beamed, and Nico felt warm all the way down to his toes. He suddenly felt himself thrumming with the urge to do something stupid, so he channeled that energy into doing something not quite as stupid as he could have, and he reached up to fix Will’s hair.

He cleared his throat and took a step back, eyeing Will from head to toe, nodding in satisfaction before he said, “You didn’t have any other shoes?” 

Will tilted his head in confusion, frowning down at his shoes. “What’s wrong with my shoes?” 

“Nothing,” Nico answered quickly. “Shall we go in?” 

Will took a deep breath to calm his nerves, then offered Nico his arm. As Nico set his hand in the crook of Will’s arm, he said, “Remind me sometime to contact the royal tailor.” 

“Huh?” Will asked, and then nodded when the words seemed to process. “Yeah, alright.” He led Nico toward the doors, and they paused as a pair of servants pulled the doors open for them.

“Maybe the cobbler, too,” Nico added quickly, and Will started to nod before Nico’s meaning caught up to him, and he made an indignant sound before Nico elbowed him in the side. 

A servant announced their presence as they entered, and Nico felt all eyes turn toward him - half of the nobles in the room had heard that Nico was waiting to enter with his fiance, and he had no doubt that word had spread to the rest of them. 

“His Majesty, King Nico of Angelos,” the servant announced, rather unnecessarily, in Nico’s opinion, “and William, the court physician’s assistant.” 

Nico felt Will tense under his hand, and he seemed to shrink under the attention - or maybe he felt ashamed by his lack of proper title. After all, Nico was one of the only people in the kingdom that knew Will’s true parentage.

“William of Solace,” Nico corrected, remembering the way that Will had introduced himself when they were children, and he saw Will perk up again beside him. It wasn’t his true title, though Nico hadn’t learned until a few years down the line that Will was actually the runaway son of Duke Apollo of Delos. Will had always preferred his mother’s home of Solace over his father’s Delos, anyway.

Nico led Will across the room to the head of the table, where a seat had been left empty for Nico’s fiance, at his request. Nico pulled the chair out for Will to sit, and push it in for him as well to help him get settled. In a moment of boldness, Nico reached down and lifted Will’s hand off the arm of the chair and pressed a kiss to his knuckles before giving the hand a comforting squeeze.

He stepped away to his own chair, though before he sat down, Nico said, “I’d like to introduce you all to my fiance, William of Solace.”

There was silence throughout the room as Nico took his seat, only breaking when Nico reached for his cup to find it empty and said over his shoulder to the nearest servant, “May we have some wine, please?”

The room around them erupted in loud complaints from Nico’s advisors, though Nico focused on making sure his own cup was filled before he passed it on to Will, then reached for Will’s cup for it to be filled as well before he took a sip from it. A quick glance around the room allowed Nico to see that his advisors were even more appalled that Nico was drinking from a regular tin cup, rather than the golden one he’d passed off to Will - it only made Nico all the more excited about the reveal.

He set down the cup and began listening to the words his advisors were spitting at him.

“You can’t marry a man,” one exclaimed. “Who will carry on the bloodline?”

“We simply cannot approve of this, Your Majesty,” another insisted. “How do you think the other kingdoms will respond?” 

Nico leaned back in his seat as a plate of food was placed before him, and he watched Will do the same, though across the table, Nico’s advisors appeared too furious to allow the servants to set their plates on the table. Nico glanced back at Will, studying his face to see that he looked somewhere between terrified for his life and like he might burst out laughing at any second. Nico wanted to reach out to him, take his hand and give it another comforting squeeze, but their chairs were just too far apart. Nico reached for his wine again, instead.

“A king can’t marry someone like him,” Nico heard one of the nobles say, “he’s just a healer!” 

Nico slammed his cup down on the table, dark liquid sloshing over the edges and dripping like blood onto the table. He raised his other hand sharply, and the room fell to silence once more. 

Nico leveled each of them with a cold glare, his voice firm and impressively collected as he told them, “He’s not just anything. He’s the love of my life, and I expect you all to treat him as you would any royal consort. My father had already given his approval for our marriage before his passing, as has Will’s. If any of you have any issues with our engagement, you are welcome to take a trip down to the Underworld yourself to question the former king’s decision.”

Nico watched as a few members of the council shifted uneasily, and then turned his gaze to Will, suddenly nervous as to how Will would take his outburst. Clearly, he needn’t worry, because Will was watching him with a soft smile and eyes that glittered brighter than the golden cup he drank out of.

He didn’t remember Will ever looking at him like that. What did it mean?

Nico took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, and took another sip of wine. If he kept up this kind of drinking without eating anything, he wouldn’t remember this night come morning.

After a few moments, Lord Thanatos cleared his throat, and Nico almost reached for his dinner knife just in case he needed to make his threat clearer somehow. “There is still the matter of William’s parentage to discuss,” he said calmly, and Nico felt himself relax even as Will tensed beside him. “Solace is home to no one of note - it is but a small farming community. Surely His Majesty understands that he cannot marry a humble farmer.”

“He is no farmer--” Nico argued, though he cut himself off when he saw Will setting down his utensils on either side of his plate.

Will cleared his throat before speaking. “My mother was from Solace,” Will told them, “but my father is Duke Apollo of Delos.”

“Then you are not of Solace,” Minos pointed out, “but William of Delos.” 

Will flinched. “No, I--”

“Meaning you’ve been living in this kingdom under a false identity,” Minos continued. “Should we assume, then, that you have lied and cheated your way into your position as the physician’s assistant? And that you gained your engagement to the king under false pretenses?” 

“No,” Will argued. “I earned my job here, and I--” He looked to Nico for help.

“I’ve known his true identity since we were children,” Nico assured them, “as did my father. Will has never lied or cheated his way into anything, especially not my heart.” 

Minos opened his mouth to speak again, but Nico was quick to grab his knife. “Minos, if you attempt to intimidate my fiance into a false confession, so help me, you will be advising my father again very soon.” 

Minos leaned back in his seat and began to eat.

“William,” Thanatos began, and glanced at Nico who was still brandishing his knife, “...if I may call you as such?”

Will nodded briefly, and Nico lowered his knife as he started to eat. “You may,” Will said before taking a bite off his own plate.

“How do you intend to fill your place in the court now that you’re engaged to the king?” Thanatos asked, keeping his tone measured. “You have been studying under the court physician for most of your life - how could we possibly find someone to replace you on such short notice?”

Will blinked in confusion. “Replace me?” he repeated. “I don’t intend to find a replacement.” 

One of the advisors scoffed, and if Nico’s knife hadn’t been lodged in his steak, he might have thrown it across the table. “Surely you don’t intend to continue practicing medicine throughout your marriage.” 

Will frowned. “Of course I do.” He looked to Nico for support, his eyes full of concern as if saying, you wouldn’t make me give up medicine, would you?

“Would you have told the queen what she could and couldn’t do?” Nico asked the council plainly, though there was a threatening edge to his voice. 

Minos scowled. “Would you expect us to call him Queen?” 

“Of course not, you idiot,” Nico snapped, “but I do expect you to pack your things and find a new king to advise, because you are no longer welcome here.”

Minos gasped. “Excuse me--”

“You have been given more than enough chances to correct your way of thinking,” Nico informed him. “Be grateful I am allowing you to leave the kingdom rather than locking you away in the dungeons. You are excused.” 

Minos rose from his seat with a huff, throwing his napkin down on the table before storming out of the room. Nico waited until the doors had shut behind him before he continued. 

“As for the rest of you,” he said, his eyes scanning the table to make sure no one else would try to argue. “Once we are married, you will refer to my husband as king, and nothing less.” He turned to Will, resting his chin on his hand as he asked, “Which do you prefer, King William of Solace, or King William of Angelos?”

thanks for reading!!

buy me a coffee | more auctober stuff

#solangelo #will solace #nico di angelo #mine #my writing #do i not have a tag for this au??? #auctober

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia Ch 13

Waking up late was so not the plan for today.

What was supposed to be a nice lovely day is slowly turning into your personal hell. Racing around the kitchen trying to keep an eye on your potatoes as you cut up the other veggies for the pie. So you can shove it into the oven then get ready.

Christ why hadn't you thought to prep your ingredients earlier?

Thankfully the cobbler was super simple tossing the sugar and flour into the bowl followed by the a cup of lemonade. Perfect cobbler base. After the batter was creamy you threw in the freshly washed blackberries. They bled a deep red into the batter around them. You had high hopes as you topped it with butter and threw it into the oven.

Both dishes had very quick bake times so you weren't too worried or stressed about them taking forever. In all honesty the only reason you were frantically running around your kitchen was prepping the inside of the forager's pie. And giving the mashed potatoes an essence of rosemary and garlic as if you were a chef on par with Gordon Ramsey.

Should you do dishes?

No, there's no time to worry about that.

Soon the cobbler is out of the oven and you have replaced it with the two pans of forager's pie. You don't give the cobbler any time to cool as you place the aluminum lid to the pan so the heat stays.

With that taken care of you speed off to your room and grab your outfit. The mini pencil skirt you'd purchased yesterday paired with some shorts so you didn't have to be careful with your movements all day. A plain block colored shirt in a cute primary palette. Finishing with yellow converses.

Changing doesn't take long but you do take some extra time on your hair choosing to style it a bit different today. As you're debating on if you should put the time into a fun makeup look your neck snaps harshly to the right.

There is no crack but it did hurt like hell.

As if that had been a sign from God you opt for your normal look. There will be other events and times for you to do fun looks, but not today.

The oven beeps as the timer goes off letting you know the pies are ready. Just a sprinkle of cheese on top before you cover them with the lid and you are all set to go.

Checking the time you see it's nine-o-two, and while the picnic was scheduled for ten thirty you are a committee member and should be there early to help set up. So without anymore hesitation you are flying out of the house and into your car.

You rush back from placing the food in the backseat to make sure your door is locked.

It is and you are free to enjoy the day...you hope.

Speeding would be the biggest understatement of the year. You were practically at the lodge in fifteen minutes and bustling up to the door. Opening it you rush in ignoring anyone you pass by in your mad dash to the kitchen.

“Hello to you too.” Barclays voice carries from the stove as you whisk past him to place two of your pans on the counter.

“Hi, Tim?” you say out of breath from your one person marathon. Practically vibrating in place unwilling to loose your momentum despite your need for a second wind.

Barclay just points to the den and you're out of the kitchen just as fast as you had entered. Most patrons in the den don't spare you a second glance used to your whirlwind mannerisms when your trying to follow a deadline. As self appointed as it may be.

There is one trio however giving you a mix of concerned and amused looks. Which quickly turn into concerned and interest when you make a bee line straight for them.

“Hi,” you say to Toby and Brian before looking at Tim and pushing the cobbler at him, “Thanks again  for last night.”

Tim can't even get a word out because as soon as he grabs the pan you're already back off to the kitchen. Determined to help Barclay with something before everyone starts moving to the Archway. You hear the chorus of chuckles coming from everyone as you leave a confused Tim, who now has to answer to the questioning glances of his friends, in your wake.

Barclay needed no help as you guessed but he was however open to you covering the food and stacking certain items together before helping to load everything into crates for easier transport. It wasn't long before the others start to make their way into the kitchen to get briefed on the plan.

You notice the trio being motioned in by Jake who holds the door open for them to make their way in too. Brian politely takes the door from Jake as Tim steps in place in front of him and Toby. The jerky movements of Toby's eyes as he scans the room is really hard to ignore. But it doesn't seem like he's looking for anything just taking note of who is in the kitchen and where they are.

“Ok, first thank you all for helping set up the picnic today. I really appreciate it.” Barclay's baritone voice says jostling you out of your thoughts to focus in on him.

“Second, we really don't have much to do for set up since most guests already have their baskets with them. We do have a few spares to lay down though. We'll be splitting off into three teams.” Barclay then points at you, Hollis, Jake, and Kirby.

“Team A is in charge of setting up the spare baskets.”

After getting your group's approval he continues down the line.

Team B consists of Brian, Tim, Toby, and Indrid. Their group is to bring out and set the tables that'll hold the food. Team C is Barclay, Aubrey, Dani, and Madeline. Team C will bring the main courses along with the heaters to keep everything warm.

With teams set and in place you all take to your positions and get a move on before the public arrives. You vaguely wonder why the Hornets aren't here yet but remember most had decorated and cleared out the Archway over the past couple of days. Pushing the thoughts away you grab two baskets and follow after your team. Thankfully there were only a few left over baskets, eight if you include Jake and Hollis' and then your own. Each member of your team carried two baskets through the thicket of trees until you reached the clearing of the archway.

It looked amazing, you'd only been out here one other time back when Bambi was still around. She took you out at night and the two of you just talked about anything and everything, including theories about the giant archway that towered over the clearing and just how it may have come to be.  Back then it had been a field of long grass and purple wildflowers. The grass was so thick the two of you used sticks to move it and insure there'd be no snakes harmed in your late night hike. Now though the grass had been cut save for aesthetically calculated patches of wildflowers and clovers here and there. The field was absolutely perfect for the event, and with the gorgeous blue skies partially clouded the scenery really seemed to pop out.

Especially the small lake glittering just past the archway. You'd never noticed it before but then again you came here in the dead of night.

Getting back to work you set out on placing the spare baskets a reasonable distance from the others. Close enough  to other blankets to feel included but far enough away to have their own space if that was their thing. When you had finished you take your own basket and join Hollis and Jake who finished placing their four baskets down faster with two people. They'd been setting up their own blanket on the outer rim of the perimeter, closer to the treeline than to the Archway. As if they were going to overlook the even and keep an eye out. Which they probably would be, just to ensure that everyone had fun and stayed safe.

Seeing you standing just a few feet away from the blanket Jake gives you his patented superstar smile.

“C'mon, join the party YN.”

With the easy going invitation you fix your blanket beside theirs. This way at one point or another you'd see a majority of your friends today as you knew for a fact they'd come over or be dragged over into seeing the couple beside you.

Kirby joins you three after lazily placing his baskets side by side closer to the archway. With the hustle and fuss of your prep work being done you can take a moment to take everything in.

“I love the shirt.” you say looking at Kirby's 'I'm not Allo but 20$ is 20$' shirt.

He gives a grin before presenting a folded up shirt out of his messenger bag.

“Thought you might...don't wear it now though. Don't want you copying my style, that'd be sad.” he jokes.

“Pfft, please everyone would know it's you who copied me.”

Jake and Hollis watch as the two of you continue your playful banter. Occasionally voicing whose side they were on, Hollis took Kirby's while Jake took yours. It was a fun way to pass the time as the other groups finished setting up.

Especially since you had Mr. Cool Guy himself on your side. How could you possibly not be the trend setter sibling with his vote.

Before long the other groups were also setting up their own baskets, which had been brought out by Barclay and Indrid a few hours earlier. And some Hornets started showing up not too long after that. Either rushing around trying to set up their baskets or sit down with friends after placing their food away. Though the event hadn't really started yet you could hear Aubrey starting up her music a few blankets away. She'd already gathered a small crowd that was chittering away.

Taking it all in you notice a certain trio looking incredibly awkward and out of place. You get up and make your way over to the men ready to invite them to sit with you. After all it's an eight person blanket it'd be a shame to sit all by yourself next to another full blanket.

Toby's dark eyes lock on to you first, you really suspect this boy has ADHD with his quick reflexes and spacial hyper awareness. He actually seems to deflate a bit, like the tension in his shoulders started to disappear the closer you got. You apparently weren't the only one to notice the subtle change in the brunette as Tim focused in on Toby. Meanwhile Brian clocked you just before you were within ten feet of their little group.

“Hey I have an empty blanket if you guys wanted to join.”

Just getting straight to the point was your thing. Most see your bluntness as rudeness but you just don't see a point in dancing around your message.

“Yea, that'd be nice.” Toby spoke before the other two could.

Smiling at him you hold a hand out for him to grab. You aren't really sure what possessed you to do that, but figure you must be in a rare tactile mood. Unlike when you're touched if you initiate the contact it doesn't hurt or squick you out. He grabs your hand and you can feel the scratch of his callouses. You remember Hollis said something about him being a mechanic, that would explain the tough hands.

You lead the trio over to your blanket where only Kirby sits, seems like didn't bring his basket and was going to share with you. Not that you mind at all, in fact this was the perfect time to introduce one friend to another.

“Kirby time to make a good impression.” you call out gaining his attention.

He takes a moment before taking note of the group you're guiding over. Kirby stands up to greet you all.

“Kirby this is my friend Tobias, and his roommates Tim and Brian.” you motion to the other two with your unoccupied hand.

Noticing for the first time that they have their hands interlocked. Not holding like you and Toby are but a more intimate hand hold.

'These bitches gay...good for them. Good for them.' is just playing on repeat as background noise in your head. Ignoring the loop in your brain you continue the introduction.

“This is Kirby, my brother or whatever.” Kirby snorts at your short introduction.

“I'll take it, 's a step up from gremlin.” he turns to the trio hand extended, “Nice to meet you guys.”

After the weird neurotypical ritual is over the five of you sit down and talk while you wait for the festivities to begin. Tim and Kirby dragging Brian along for the deep dive of god awful horror movies.

“You didn't mention a brother.” Toby says fiddling with your hand, someone really needs to get this guy a fidget toy.

“Huh? Oh no. No, not like that Kirby's more like a brother than my biological brother.” you pause while thinking how to explain this more articulately.

“We're just really similar and people thought we were dating, I guess, before we started calling each other 'sibling'.” it's really weird that that was even an issue. At least to you but Allos tend to be weird about mixed gender relationships.

For instance Brian and Tim can get written off as the best of best friends. But you and Kirby decide to sit next to each other for one Saturday Night Dead and the town is already waiting for wedding invites. Maybe this is a small town thing...you'll still blame the Allos.

Toby nods along, whether he actually understands or is trying to move from the topic you can't quite tell. You look down at his hand that's bending your fingers into your palm. His nail beds look better than last week you hope it means he wasn't picking at his skin. It's really not a great coping mechanism.

You let out a small sigh as you get lost in the feeling of Toby playing with your fingers. You're trying to think of something to talk about but the motions are kind of drowning out your thoughts. You can see why this might've been helpful the for Toby last week in the forest.

“...We're friends?” you aren't really sure if that was a question or a statement.

“Yea! Well at least I'd like to be. It's fine if you don't want to though.”

Toby gives a small smile to that, and releases your hand. It seems his anxiety has gone away for the most part. Maybe having the reassurance of another friend is all he needed. Just a little more moral support to get him out of his shell.

You smile back at him as he leans back on his hands. It's nice that you both can enjoy the day without your masks, even if you do feel a bit naked without yours. You wonder how Toby's been holding up wearing only the bandage over his scar. But you know you probably aren't at the friendship level needed to question him about it. No matter how nonchalant he'd been about eating in front of you that first day.

“How're the repairs coming?”

Toby rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated groan, and for a moment you're concerned you upset him.

“It's a fah-fah-cuck...king rust bucket. Like Jesus fucking Christ first the AC blows out so I check the compressor...” he pauses and squints his eyes at you, “do you know cars?”

“Dad's a mechanic so I know enough. But you're talking about an RV unit and not a regular cabin AC might get a little lost but I can at least lend an ear. Like a rubber duck.”

The right side of Toby's mouth pulls a confused sneer, but his attention is soon turned to Brian who's chuckling having heard what you said.

“'s a coding thing Toby.”

“Uh...okay?” Toby just resigns himself to not understanding this particular topic and continues on.

“Yea so sorta the same basis, I guess. The units still pull air from outside into the vents and use a refrigerant liquid to cool the air it pushes out.” he pauses to make sure you're still following.

After you nod he continues to explain how it runs so the fans and circuits seem to be in order. There isn't a leak in the coils and the liquid's been replenished but it still isn't running cold. You nod while giving him a patient smile as you let him tear through his rant about the “piece of shit unit” because it seems this has been building in him for the past few days.  When he comes to the end of his rant the only thing you can really think to say is.

“That sounds rough.”

Not the most eloquent thing but Toby seems to come down from his vent high, after a few deep breaths.

“Yea it mrrow was. Well is.” he cuts his eyes back to the trio across from you noticing how they all seem invested in their own conversation now.

“Why'd you give Tim a cobbler?” looks like you two will be playing twenty questions today.

“He scared off the creep for me last night.” you shrug causing your neck to jerk to the side.

“'the' creep? Wait! The one that drugged you?” Toby is so lucky he can't feel pain because even you felt that crack that ripped through his neck as he whipped his head towards you.

And honestly you're kinda surprised it didn't draw anyone's attention to you two.

“First I don't think I was drugged, he might've just sent me into a panic attack.”

“Oh sorry the creep that sent you into a panic attack.” you really hate when people interrupt you like that he's really lucky you understand he's actually just paying attention to you rather than talking over you. You'd punch him if it wasn't the case. Punch him right in his cute snarky face.

“Bitch.” You do punch him, in his arm, he lets out a monotone 'ow'. You decide against punching him again for that, it was a hard choice though.

“Anyway, second yea same one. I just really don't like the guy and last night he'd been bothering Ronnie when I stopped by the gas station. She'd apparently forgotten Tim had gone on break and when I tried bluffing that he was there well...”

You took some time to explain the situation last night to Toby. Leaving out the parts where Not Tim showed up. After thinking on that you figure there was a possibility of Tim having an alter that he may or may not know about. And you aren't sure what the etiquette is for this sort of thing, like if Tim did know were you suppose to let him tell you or should you let him know you'd technically met his alter. Judging from Toby's face, the guy really wears his heart on his sleeve, he seems confused about something.

Maybe Tim  didn't remember last night and Toby was asking for him. That does put a bit more weight on your alter theory. And it seems to have more traction as something seems to click in Toby's head. He doesn't share whatever is making him nod. So you leave it be.

Before you know it an hour has past the field nearly full of town residents and Barclay, with his mighty megaphone, start calling people over for food so you all grab a plate from the basket.

“I want purple.” Kirby tells you.

“I could literally hand you any of these and you'd tell me 'thanks'.”

“That's pretty fucking ablest YN.”

You pause and look at the other three on the blanket.

“Is being colorblind a disability?”

A “Yes” from Brian followed by Tim and Toby's deadpan expressions and “No”s.

“Three against two, not ablest just honest...this is purple.” you had half a mind to hand him indigo.

Your group goes and gets food, debating the legitimacy of colorblindness being a disability, before heading back to your blanket. No sooner had you sat down are you body slammed into the ground. The familiar weight of an overexcited eleven year old smothering you.

“Hi can I sit with you?” before you can reply the rest of the Cowell family finds their way over.

“Josephine Cowell, I'm so sorry YN she's just been so excited all weekend. Josephine get off of YN you know they aren't very tactile.” Dia called.

Unlike her husband's hulking form Dia was a petite frail woman, you honestly wouldn't be surprised if Jo towered over her mother in a few years. And though she was small she had a fierceness to her that normally kept both the Jos in line.

“It's not a problem Dia. Jo I think you should eat with your parents first, we have all day to hang out.” Her eyes seem to sparkle with excitement and you can see her mother's apologetic expression just past her.

Understandably Dia is concerned with Jo taking up your personal time. The young girl sees you as an older sibling and wants to spend any second she can with you, but you aren't family. You're a young adult who has their own life to live. The last thing you need is to be babysitting the tween while you tried to relax with your friends today. Dia would do her best to have Jo give you some space.

“Hey you guys can just drop your blanket over here, we don't mind.” Janette, local mean lesbian, calls from Hollis and Jake's blanket.

Jo looks ecstatic at the thought and rushes to her father to pull him over to the area so they can place the blanket down. Booping her nose occasionally in her excitement.

“Hey Dia, Marnie's coming in an hour or so, soccer game got rescheduled. Jo will have someone her age to bug.”

“Marnie's coming?” leave it to a tween to finish setting up and get a plate of food all in under five minutes.

She's not even trying to be on her family's blanket as she plops down next to you. Taking notice of you staring she gives a wide grin practically buzzing with excitement. A bit too much excitement as she starts rapidly blinking, triggering your own as well. At least you have practice eating like this, unlike Jo who only just developed this tic.

After your tics subside Jo eats with you and just goes on into her usual tween drama stories. She's got to keep you up to date after all. It's like a soap opera just less adult topics and no evil clones. Kirby and Nate catch up and somehow rope Tim and Brian into their conversation as well. Toby just sits quietly eating and giving you amused looks every time you lock eyes.

You can't help but feel you're forgetting to do something every time you lock eyes with the brunette. The issue seems to resolve itself when a 'mrrow' slips from Toby as he takes a drink, causing him to cough from swallowing wrong.

An unconscious effort on your part, you lean and rub small circles into his back. Trying to calm his coughs. A mistake as the tween in front of you zeros in on the man as if she's just noticed he existed.

“Hi! Who are you?” if her eyes could turn into stars they would.

“uh...” Toby looks to you for help, as if the child talking to him was an alien species. “Toby...” he says uncertainly after receiving no input from you.

“Toby....”

“Rogers?”

“Are you YN's boyfriend?” Toby wishes he had an excuse to cough now.

His face flushes at the question and before he can sputter out any tongue tied response another 'mrrow' rips through him and his head harshly tilts back. Jo's eyes widen at the tic, she excitedly looks between the two of you. And you aren't sure what's going through her mind at the moment.

“OMG Do you have tourette's? Does he have tourette's or is he like you?” she's practically vibrating as she bounces between questioning both of you.

“umm...touretter's?” you say in Toby's place as the man beside you can't function a sentence right now.

Jo literally squeaks in excitement at the new development.

“I'm Jo Cowell, YN's self appointed sibling. I have tourette's too, I've had it since I was five. How long have you had tourette's?”

It felt like Jo's never ending barrage of questions was just that never ending. Toby took everything in stride, aside from the awkward dating questions. And for how worried she was about her daughter bugging you today every time you tried to catch Dia's eye she was somehow wrapped up in another conversation or her husband. Your saving grace came in a four foot two package wearing a dirty soccer uniform and sporting a fresh black eye followed closely by her frazzled step mother.

“Yikes, ball to the face or fight with the other team?” Janette asked her daughter as she walked towards the blankets.

“Fell off the bleachers.” fucking how? “Jo want to run some drills with me?” Marnie asked with a grin missing her front tooth, and before you know it your blanket was down an occupant and Toby was free of the never ending hell he'd been placed in.

“Do...do you want to take a walk? Get away for a minute.” you asked looking at the positively ruffled man next to you.

He nods numbly and follows after you into the tree line. You both just walk for a bit until Toby's complexion looses any rosiness. When he's back to his normal greyish cool tones you stop to rest. Leaning against a tree Toby follows your lead but slides down the base resting his arms on his knees as his head hits the tree behind him.

“Sorry about her, Jo can be excitable.” you'd remembered as soon as her tirade began that you should have warned him she'd lock on to his tics.

That was a near replica of your first encounter with the tween. Too late to change that now.

“I didn't mind,” he gives a boxy grin up at you “'s just how siblings are.”

There's a fond tone in his voice as he says that. And the gleam in his eyes tell a story of experience with that sort of thing.

“You've got siblings?”

“Yea, an older sister.” he sighs and looks down and the grin falls into a neutral look.

There's a story there, but you aren't one to pry. If he wants to indulge you or even himself he will in his own time. However, a joke should be able to disturb the tension that threatens to darken your moment.

“Oh I bet you were an absolute menace to her.” giving a good natured chuckle, one Toby returns as the fond look in his eyes came back.

“For your information I was a delight as a child.”

“Pfft yea I bet. And just how many times did you break an arm falling out of a tree?”

Toby looks stunned for a moment. Was that something weird to say? You remember the summer nearly everyone in your grade broke their arms falling out of a tree. Hell you would've too if you hadn't landed in a bush, all you got were some gnarly bruises and a few thorns stuck in you. Then you swore a vow to only climb thick limbed trees.

“Like twice...but..how did, how did you know?”

“It wasn't a universal thing? I just figured since we were both from Virginia like your class would've also had like sixteen kids break their arm or something over the summer.”

“Well I was home schooled so I wouldn't know.”

“Wait, like home schooled home schooled, or church home schooled. There's a difference.” giving you a sneer he just shrugs.

“Fucking home schooled home schooled. Don't see how that makes a difference.”  he pops his knuckles. Jerkiness of the motion indicating his tic rather than his choice.

“One you're supposedly taught science and the other you're told Jesus loves you.” you deadpan as you slide down the tree mirroring Toby's position.

“I had two friends, they were twins, who were church home schooled until high school. Nice girls but only so many times I can pretend to know what the hell a veggie tale is.”

Toby snorts and shakes his head. This is probably all you'll get from him about his early life. But he's not dancing around the questions as much as he was a few weeks ago. The quiet is nice and you could honestly just spend the rest of the day in the forest. A cool breeze blows through the trees and you catch the smells from the picnic. For some reason it seems to make you queezy, you'll probably stay here a while longer. You might be getting overstimulated.

“What...what was public school like?”

The question sort of shocks you breaking the moment. And you just stared at Toby for a while before you actually thought of an answer. The answer you wanted to say was “hell, it was straight hell”. You don't think he's talking about the institution itself and more the experience. So you tell him.

You start to weave together a picture spanning twelve long years for Toby. Telling him of pranks or jokes learned, older siblings bugged, holidays celebrated, tearful goodbyes, joyous reunions. Paint pictures of gossiping friends, Jane Austin worthy rumors, unified students banding together to change outdated rules, snowball fights in the courtyard, Snapchat stories shared through the school. The distance that gets put into place the second you aren't legally required to spend all your time with people. The feeling of emptiness as you try to navigate a world you were never prepared for...and doing that alone.

You tried to condense it but you went off into a lot of stories and probably gave him way too much context for everything. But Toby sat there and absorbed everything you had to say. When your mood dropped as you finished he only had one thing to say.

“Sounds like it sucked.”

Looking at him you could see the worried brow and small half smile on his lips. It was reassuring in a sense.

“Yea, yea it did.”

The two of you sat and stared at each other for a bit. A sort of connection being formed from a not so similar but not quite unsimilar schooling maybe. Or the acceptance that someone didn't have to be just like you to get you.

There isn't really a lot of time to dwell on that as a pop is heard followed shortly there after by a crack and sizzle. Soon Toby's face was bathed in a blue glow, as was the surrounding area. Another pop came and the crack and sizzle followed after. Bathing the forest in a neon green hue. Looking up in time to see a third and fourth flare go up and watching them expand in a firey orange and yellow burst. Fizzling out as they made their way down.

“I didn't know there'd be fire...fireworks.” he's tense at his tree as he swallowed the lump that you clearly heard in his throat.

“Yea I...I didn't either.” looking back to Toby you hold out a hand, “Wanna head back to the lodge?”

He pulls his dark eyes away from the sky to look at you and your outstretched hand. Not a moment later he has grabbed your hand and is yanking you into a standing position with him. Leading the way to the lodge as if he were a bat flying out of Hell. His ability to lead you both deftly through the dimly lit forest with barely any sunlight was pretty impressive. At least it would've been had you bee able to focus on it rather than cringing from the noise.

When you get to the lodge Toby doesn't say anything, nor does he let go of your hand. You feel like he's completely forgotten about you even though you're literally joined together. Toby pushes through the doors and makes his way up the stairs. Without a word you let him lead you to where ever it is he's going.

Based on his behavior you have a pretty good guess. When Toby pulls out his room key with his other hand you know you're correct. And that waiting inside would be a very good boy.

“Connor pressure.” are the only words out of Toby's mouth as he flings open the door and falls back onto the ground.

Thankfully he'd let go of your hand. Since he all but dragged you here you figure he could use the company. Closing his door you go over and sit beside his prone form. Not saying a word to each other, just waiting for the others to get back from the festivities.

#sorry for being gone so long #ticci toby #ticcitoby #ticci tobyx reader #ticci toby x reader #masky x reader #Timothy Wright #timothy wright x reader #timothy wright x brian thomas #Brian Thomas #brian thomas x reader #creepypasta fanfic #a cure for insomnia

[heoneyology]

simply human | l.jy

A/N: this was supposed to be posted yesterday for halloween so uhh happy late halloween look at me I’m trying to write again! it’s not spooky so I guess posting it today isn’t a huge deal, still fits the season... based loosely on this story idea.

Word Count: 6866

Genre: catboy!juyeon, warlock!juyeon, fluff, lightly implied romance

Pairing: reader (gender neutral) x lee juyeon (the boyz)

Warnings: mentions of magic though nothing used... uhh... very slowly paced is a warning as well (like there’s barely any juyeon wtf was I doing???), also I have a habit of trailing things off at the end of my writings and leaving things to the reader’s imagination after sorry :’))

Summary: Lee Juyeon is possibly one of the most eligible bachelors in town—his looks being favored by everyone who lays their eyes on him—but he has one thing working against him: He’s a warlock. In the city, those who practice magic are just thought of as normal, everyday people. But in smaller towns, they’re thought of as bad luck and archaic. It’s a bias that you’ll never quite understand, and thus you watch the handsome boy who visits the coffee shop you work at daily, admiring him from afar. You’d never have guessed he was leading a quiet double life...

A deep sigh falls past your lips, one that seems to come straight from the depths of your chest—maybe even deeper. It holds something that words can’t quite express; stresses, longing, and a confusion you aren’t sure how to work past. Next to you, the black cat who is just an arm’s length away stirs. It peeps one eye open as your breath travels through the blades of grass, passing through before ghosting over the cat’s fur. It tickles, and felines don’t much like things that tickle.

You’d been watching the cat this entire time, so when it cracks a single amber eye open to fixate on you, you suck in the breath you’d just let out, freezing in place. Waiting, wondering. Had you somehow deterred away your latest friend and most recent confidant?

“Sorry,” you whisper to the cat, wondering if that will somehow remedy the situation.

The cat’s ears flicker in response, and that single amber eye closes.

You’d dealt with many cats before that. For many, as soon as you even so much as had your fingertips graze their fur the wrong way, they’d go scurrying off. Some even liked to lash out. This cat, however, was a curious little fellow—you were fairly certain it was a fellow—it liked to lay just out of your reach, near you, whenever you came to sit underneath the maple tree in the warm afternoons; on days when the sun was just peaking at its highest before dipping down below the horizon. Now that autumn was in full force, days were growing shorter and the warmth which you sought by the sun and the maple—a space to think freely and escape your worries—was also growing shorter as the chill of the oncoming winter began to set in earlier and earlier each day.

The cat seemed to have the same idea as you, seeking out the tree for afternoon naps and letting you rant your heart away. Somehow, it almost seemed as if the feline was listening to you—but not just listening, understanding, as well. The little black feline would fix you with a gaze that was so deep and knowing, you sometimes felt as if you were oversharing. Whenever the cat met your eyes, you could feel your heart seize up in your chest; the idea of the creature somehow understanding what you were saying causing you to panic and double back, wondering if your thoughts were safe with the little cat.

But the comfort the cat brought was something that couldn’t be matched by the company of your friends and family. It was nice to have someone to just talk to and listen, someone that didn’t reply all the time. Even if that someone wasn’t exactly a human. Even if that someone happened to have some human-like personality traits that left you wondering. Cats were intelligent, though, so you never found yourself questioning it too much.

After some time, you push yourself up into a sitting position from where you lay on your side in the grass, letting out another long sigh. This time, your breath doesn’t even so much as reach the cat. However, your presence shifting causes the small animal to stir, letting out a ‘mrrmph’ and stretching out of the ball it had been curled into, rolling over onto its side. The cat lazily blinks up at you, before licking a paw and swiping it over its face, repeating the action and grooming itself.

“This is why my mom told me not to move away to a small town like this. She called me a romantic for trying to follow my dreams—be a writer, live in a cozy space unknown to the world and basically off the grid.” Instead of sighing, you scoff this time. “Little did she know I’d actually become a romantic and fall in love with someone who doesn’t even know I exist… or maybe she did know. Moms seem to somehow know everything…”

You groan, letting your face fall into your hands. “I can’t believe I spilled that all over him this morning—I don’t even want to go to work tomorrow.”

Before one emotion can even settle, you’re letting out another groan and falling back into the grass again. You hit the ground with a slight thud. Next to you, the cat startles in surprise, but doesn’t move.

“I have to be up for seven… I have to open the shop… ugh I hate opening shifts, that’s too early. We saw what happened today! I didn’t even get enough sleep and then that disaster unfolded!”

From next to you, the cat watches as you work through your turmoil of thoughts and emotions for the third time since coming to the maple tree. Before one can settle, another begins, and so your distraught cycle repeats itself yet again. The cat had already heard the story, about how you’d gotten next to no sleep last night—finally finding a strike of muse and mistakenly staying up until almost four in the morning to write the wave out—and had to open the coffee shop at which you work at seven on the dot that same morning. Your crush, the one and only Lee Juyeon—a noteworthy bachelor in town whose presence wasn’t very welcomed, though his looks were practically revered—had entered the shop. Amidst your foggy, sleep-deprived state, you’d clumsily perfected his order, then proceeded to spill it down the front of his clothes.

It was a minor mishap. It wasn’t something that happened often, but it wasn’t something that one should trouble themselves over this much. Although, of course, one had to consider the fact that Juyeon being dashingly handsome, with strong features and a soft smile; as well as being your crush, were added factors that had to be considered in the equation.

The cat still found it ridiculous, as cats often do of human matters.

You push yourself into a sitting position again, with a bit more determination in your shoulders this time. The cat barely pauses its grooming session as you turn to address it, despite not needing to. “I need to go. I need to get some sleep before work tomorrow.”

Despite knowing that the outcome will be futile, you reach out slowly and attempt to stroke the cat with the back of your hand, as a final goodbye before the two of you meet again. But this time, the cat reacts to your proximity—instantaneously cutting its grooming session short by jumping to its feet and away from you. The feline cuts you a look, giving itself a shake, before it trots off.

It had been two weeks now, so you had been hopeful something had changed between you and the cat. But, cats were fickle creatures, and although your feline friend proved to be a good confidant and equally welcomed your silent company—that’s all it wanted at the moment, was some company. A part of you wondered if something kept the cat from being friendlier, even after you’d proven you weren’t going to push or rush any affection received, such as a trauma or unpleasant experience. You weren’t too certain that was the case, though, considering the cat wasn’t wary or scared—just indifferent.

“Get home safe,” is your last goodbye to the cat, spoken into the emptiness around you which is only broken up by the evening breeze whistling through the autumn leaves.

—

Thankfully, you get enough sleep that night. When you get home, the tiredness hits you like a giant wave, and there’s not even an ounce of temptation to continue your writing as there had been the night before. When the next day arrives, you’re much more bright-eyed and alert. Opening the coffee shop goes smooth, as does the passing of the first few customers you have.

After the first hour of being open, like clockwork, Juyeon walks through the door of the little cafe at eight. And, like clockwork, your coworker lets out a grunt under their breath and nudges you with their elbow.

“Can you take over the cash register?”

You frown, studying them, then glancing back at Juyeon as he slowly nears the counter. A few guests cut him unfriendly looks, others stare in awe. You should be used to this, by now, but you aren’t. Growing up in the city, you hadn’t realized what kind of bias there would be in smaller, more rural areas for Juyeon’s kind—as those around here called it. He practiced magic, which in the city was a common occurrence. Being so populated, it was easy to pass someone by and not really know whether they were a witch or a warlock. They were just simply human.

But here, it was like some sort of blight. Where witches and warlocks were far and few between, it was misunderstood, and thus not welcomed. People didn’t like change, or that which they didn’t understand.

If only people could be more like cats—indifferent to those things that surrounded them which caused no harm, despite how different it might be.

Your coworker hadn’t waited for your answer, disappearing, and you have no choice but to take over the cash register. Despite the repeated normalcy of this specific situation, it’s still something you really don’t think you’ll ever get used to.

Juyeon stops in front of the counter and studies the menu above, just as you step forward and wish him a good morning. He glances down at you, gives a small smile, and then glances back up at the menu. He’s been here enough times since you’d moved to town that you know he’ll order the same thing he gets every day. For some reason, though, he still likes to idle a bit and study the menu. Maybe because there’s seasonal flavors to consider trying, despite always defaulting to the comfort pick. Or maybe he’s buffering his mind for the day—a sentiment you felt you could relate to.

“Can I get my usual?” Juyeon asks, pulling his eyes away from the menu with another smile.

You return his smile, nodding. “Of course.”

Although you try to stay calm, you can hear your heart beating much too loudly in your chest, replaying the events from the day before in your head. You try not to outwardly cringe as the scene from yesterday replays itself in your mind; then try further to shut the memories out, though not visibly show your internal struggle—choosing to focus instead on the fact that despite not being weary-eyed that morning, your hand is shaking as you lift it to the register to punch in Juyeon’s order, and you need to make it stop.

It’s something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the regular customer, though you aren’t aware that he even does notice until you’re serving him his coffee. Your coworker has conveniently cooped themselves up in the back to clean and stock. That leaves you left alone to prepare Juyeon’s drink, and you’re grateful there isn’t a rush at that moment.

When you step up to the counter to call out his name and hand over the drink, you’re straining your arm to keep your hand from shaking too badly—paranoid over a repeat from yesterday. As he takes his drink with a smile and a thank you, his fingers brush over yours. You glance up in surprise at him, wondering if he even noticed the skin contact.

Meeting his gaze, you’re aware that he is, in fact, aware of what has happened. He softens his smile—if that’s even possible. His sharp features are always the softest when he comes in during the mornings and hands out smiles to the people around him. Despite the stark contrast of how the townsfolk treat Juyeon in comparison to how he treats them, you’ve never once seen the smile on his face falter.

“You don’t have to be nervous about yesterday,” he states kindly. “Accidents happen. Stop shaking so badly out of nerves, or you’ll really end up spilling my coffee again.”

A flush immediately over takes your face, and you pull your hand back like the snap of a rubber band—luckily Juyeon already has hold of his drink, or it would have come crashing down to the counter below.

“S-s-s-sorry— I didn’t mean—”

“It’s fine, I’m only joking. Like I said, accidents happen, and clothes can be washed,” Juyeon chuckles. You swear the sound makes your heart seize up in your chest—but it’s a different kind of seize than the feeling your secret cat makes you feel. This feeling is one that makes time seem to stop moving itself; his soft laugh something akin to a toll bell—not quite high pitched enough to be a bell, but not deep enough to be something else.

“Although if you spilled drink on me two days in a row, I’d probably need you to join me for coffee at some point in order to make up for all the dry cleaning,” the joke falls from Juyeon’s lips with ease—and you can only stare at him in surprise as he offers you one last smile and makes his way to a corner of the coffee shop near the window, as he does every day.

Did… he just flirt?

You shake your head at the absurdity of the thought, though the rest of your work day is spent in a trance. Even when there is a callout halfway through your shift, just a few hours away before your freedom from work—you barely react. It’s just a hiccup, even if it means you’ll be working five hours extra. Juyeon’s words idly trail through your mind, enough to keep you in a daze. Luckily, despite your mind being focused elsewhere, nothing is spilled or broken that day and you make it through the shift safely; save for a few moments of tripping over your own two feet.

When closing time rolls around, you finally start to feel all the work of the day and your clumsiness in those same two feet. You’re practically dragging yourself over the threshold when you close up the coffee shop, locking the door behind you. When you turn to begin down the street for home and the comfort of your warm bed—you almost trip over your own two feet yet again.

Except, this time, it’s not by your own fault that you almost trip. Underfoot, the darkness of the night moves just as you stumble to catch yourself, and you startle in surprise. But then, a familiar pair of amber eyes turn and meet yours—and as your eyes adjust to the blackness, you recognize the outline of a little black cat.

“Kitty?” You wonder, surprise lacing your voice. The cat, as if replying, lets out something akin to a meow and an indignant sigh, as if to ask, How dare you trip over me?

The indignant meow-sigh-huff combo makes you smile, letting out a small laugh under your breath. Yes, it’s definitely your cat friend. But why is the cat so far from the fields at the outskirts of town, away from the maple tree? How did it wander so far? You’d always assumed the cat to be a farm cat, since you’d never seen it among the streets like this—which had you worry the feline may have wandered too far from home to find its way back. At night, nonetheless.

Crouching down, you reach out a hand to the cat, back of your hand facing the feline. “What are you doing all the way in town like this, kitty?”

As per usual, the cat backs away from your hand with a little jump, before scurrying off into the night. You let out a sigh, watching it meld with the shadows, before pushing yourself back to your feet.

“Okay, fine. I thought we were friends, but whatever. Just try and assist me in breaking my neck and then leave the scene of the almost-crime.” You give your head a shake, before turning away from the coffee shop and making your way home.

The evening is colder than it has been in the past few nights. As you walk, you snuggle down a little deeper into your coat, surprised by the chill. It’s sharp enough to cut against more sensitive places of your body—like your nose, ears, and cheeks—but not quite deeply cutting in the way that the cold of winter is. This chill doesn’t seep into the depths of your bones and create an ache. It’s just cold enough to make you want to curl up on your couch with a cup of warm tea before bed, but still admire how there’s a warmth to the season overall despite the weather.

It doesn’t take long before a black flash cuts across in front of you. You slow your steps slightly, having set a brisk pace to simply get yourself home quicker, so you weren’t out at night for too long. Your shadowy friend darting back and forth is enough to keep you from walking too fast, though, worried you might trip and fall, and ultimately hurt yourself or the cat. But as you pick your pace up again, the black feline settles into a trot alongside you, weaving close to the walls of the buildings which you walk next to.

“Are you walking me home?” You muse to the cat. “Feel guilty for almost tripping me in the dark?”

You know the cat can’t understand your humor, and likely doesn’t have a conscience enough to feel guilty about such a thing, but it feels nice to talk to someone as you walk. Again—you seek comfort in the feline companion for the fact that you can voice your thoughts aloud, without expecting a reply. It’s also nice to have company on your walk home. Despite the small town being safe, and the streetlamps lighting the way, walking alone at night was an uncomfortable event. Having grown up in the city, you’d been taught to never wander the streets alone at night. It was strange to do so here.

“Lee Juyeon, the warlock that I’ve told you about, came in to work again today. I didn’t spill his order all over him today,”  you smile, glancing at the little black shadow that meanders next to you. “You should be proud of me.”

Slowing your pace, you come to a halt. “Do you ever wonder why people treat him differently?” You ask the cat. For a moment, you think, before sighing, “Wait, you probably don’t even know. You’re a cat, after all. How would you realize that he’s being treated differently just because he can practice magic. Heck, you probably don’t even know who Juyeon is.”

Or, maybe the cat did, considering you’d seen Juyeon feed the neighborhood strays outside the coffee shop before.

The thought has you pulling your eyes back to your cat companion. Ahead of you, the animal pulls itself away from the wall and sidles its way into the center of the street. It keeps walking, which prompts you to resume your pace in order to catch up to the cat.

“Anyway, he does magic. A warlock. In the city, witches and warlocks are common. Magic is a lot more accepted where I come from, even though there are rules and restrictions to practicing in order to keep non-magic users safe. Maybe that’s why rural areas and small towns don’t like it, there’s no one to really keep watch and create rules,” you sigh, then wonder why the heck you’re explaining this to a cat. “But still, he’s just simply a human. My coworker doesn’t even want to breathe the same air as him. Isn’t that ridiculous…?”

Much like you do under the maple tree, you ramble to the cat as though it were any other day. It feels kind of nice to have the cat’s company and be able to walk home with someone, even if that someone weren’t quite human. Though you might appear strange to anyone else who might see you chatting into the darkness, you aren’t alone that night—a comfort which you appreciate not only because it’s dark, but also after such a long and grueling day. It allows you to keep your mind away from the dreadful thoughts you might have. Talking to the cat had also become a routine, and though you hadn’t been able to dwell much on the idea of missing out on the almost-daily routine thanks to how busy the coffee shop had gotten in the afternoon, you realize now what it means.

As you near the corner of your street, the cat slows down just ahead of you, sensing a change in your demeanor. Your stomach growls just as you’re about to round the corner the cat is stopped at, causing you to glance down in surprise. Then, you glance at the feline, before lifting your gaze up to glance over your shoulder. Just across the street, lighting up the entire corner—something you’d always been grateful for, living alone—sits a little 24-Hour corner shop. You have food at home that you can heat up quickly, but you remember that your cat friend has wandered into town from the farms, and possibly hasn’t eaten. There’s probably an abundance of mice to catch, if the cat were to look well enough, but you feel guilty after realizing how far the animal had followed you.

And, unfortunately, it wasn’t likely with your current track record that the cat would want to join you inside for the night.

“Wait here,” you instruct the cat, not even sure if it’ll listen. You dart across the street and push your way into the warmth of the little corner shop. The attendant startles in surprise at your entrance, having not expected a customer so late on a fairly chilly night, most likely.

“Do you have cat food?” You ask, and the bleary-eyed boy behind the counter points off in a corner of the shop. You follow his direction to the aisle he points out, wandering down and eyeing the shelves lined with canned and bagged food and treats for all different kinds of pets. You pick out a can of shrimp flavored canned food, remembering that the cat you’d grown up with at home had enjoyed shrimp-flavored things, before heading back to the front of the store to pay for it.

Surprisingly enough, the black cat is there waiting for you as you exit the store—still across the street. You smile, as you near, watching as the cat’s tail tip flicks where it's curled on the ground, rustling a leaf just within reach. Each time its tail does so, causing the leaf to move, the silly little cat swipes at the leaf—and its own tail. And each time, the cat looks offended as it pulls its paw back.

“I have food,” you announce your presence to the cat, so as not to startle it too much out of its little game. As you near, you pull open the can lid, bending down and setting the can on the ground. Knowing the cat will run if you extend your hand, you slowly inch the can forward with your finger tips, watching as the cat slowly inches itself back on its butt in surprise. When your hand returns to yourself, the cat stares at the opened can of food, before bending over just enough to strain its neck to reach out and sniff.

With a sharp flick of its tail, it huffs and turns, trotting off into the darkness.

Your jaw falls open in surprise. “Wow! Rude! That was two dollars!”

Frowning, you glance back at the can of food, then up again where the cat disappeared into the night. Either the cat was extremely spoiled and wasn’t actually a farm cat as you’d thought, feasting on mice—or the animal just wasn’t hungry. Somehow you doubted the latter, as it seemed like quite a journey from the edge of town to your place for a little four-legged creature. Surely any animal would be just a bit hungry after wandering around for hours, right?

Straightening yourself up, you call out into the darkness, “I’m leaving this here, then—in case you change your mind!” But your words are met with silence, and there isn’t even the breeze of the autumn wind whistling through the trees to fill the void of the night.

Parting ways with the darkness and its feline voidling, you finally round the corner and head the last few feet up the street to the warmth of your home.

—

When you wake the next morning, there’s not an immediate rush through your morning. You don’t work until a bit later in the afternoon. This means you’re able to sleep in, enjoy the warmth and comfort of your bed and burrow yourself further down under the duvet as the morning light streams through the curtains, casting even more warmth over you as it filters through the glass window. When it comes time to finally pull yourself out of bed, you shower and brush your teeth, brew a pot of coffee for yourself, and set to work at your laptop for a couple hours to get some writing out.

It’s at this time that a repeated rapping catches your attention, and when you glance up from your laptop—pulling your eyes away from the white light of the screen and squinting—you’re surprised to see a black shadow at your window, two amber eyes peering through a frame of the glass intently.

“What the—? Kitty?”

Hearing your voice, the cat stands up from crouching on the sill, butting its body against the window and letting out a loud meow. You’re fairly certain this is the first time the cat has answered you in such a blatantly obvious tone, which has you excitedly pushing yourself to your feet and rushing over to the window. In the entire time it takes you to cross your bedroom to the window, the cat continues to meow, pacing back and forth along the sill and butting itself against the glass. The cat’s tail curls, waving about languidly.

“Good morning,” you greet, pulling the window up and open for your friend. “What are you doing here? Did you sleep outside on the street last night?”

With more room on the window sill, the cat sits, pointedly fixating its gaze on you. Curiously, you present the back of your hand to the cat, holding it up between the two of you. This is the closest you’ve ever been to the creature, but that doesn’t mean you’re quite out of the woods just yet.

It takes everything within you, though, to hold back the gasp of surprise when the cat leans forward just a bit to sniff you, cold nose pressing against the back of your hand and whiskers grazing across your skin.

“Can I pet you?” You wonder, turning your hand over slowly and reaching behind the cat—but, as fickle as ever, the cat lets out another meow and turns before you can even so much as put your hand onto its fur, dropping down from the window sill. The most touch you get from the interaction is its tail swiping your arm as it turns and jumps down—which, honestly, still leaves you grinning after the cat.

“Wait there again,” you instruct the cat, closing the window. Not waiting for an answer from the feline, who seems a bit chatty that morning, you make your way out of your bedroom—pausing momentarily to grab your coffee mug—before heading to the kitchen. You wonder if the cat is hungry, mentally noting you don’t have cat food, which is why you had bought it last night, before reminding yourself that it didn’t seem to like the canned food anyway.

Fish? No, you’d have to go to the market for that. If you ate fish, you typically cooked it immediately rather than let it sit in your freezer. What else could cats eat? “Chicken…?” You wonder aloud, opening your fridge and eyeing the leftover container of some grilled chicken you’d had the night before.

“It’s a bird, cats like bird meat.” Giving yourself a small shrug, you pull the container from the fridge and open it. It takes a few moments to shred it down to something a bit more manageable to chew with your fingers, before you pop it in the microwave to nuke it a bit. You didn’t mind cold chicken, but assuming the cat had spent the night outside, you figure a little warmth in its belly would be nice.

As though sensing your intentions, when you open the front door, the black cat is sitting expectantly on the porch, staring up at the door. Its tail swipes across the wood deck lazily, seemingly unbothered by having had to wait.

“It’s not much, since I don’t really know what to feed a cat that’s okay and I don’t keep cat food… not that you appreciated it last night…” You scoff, before setting down the container on the porch in front of the cat. “But here’s some breakfast for you. Or brunch now, I suppose.”

This food smells much more interesting than the canned cat food, and the feline doesn’t hesitate to step forward and crouch down in front of the leftover container, immediately gobbling up the grilled chicken you’d shredded. You smile, watching with relief as the animal eats. You really weren’t sure at this point if the cat was a farmcat after all, a stray, or simply a spoiled wanderer—but not knowing where the animal had been overnight, and seeing it eat now after refusing food last night put your mind at ease.

You watch the cat eat in silence, making yourself comfortable and sitting back against the doorframe of your open front door. Every now and again, you sip your coffee, glance up at the street and off into the distance where you can see the rolling hills of the countryside, before looking back down at the cat. When your feline friend finishes its meal, it lays back on your porch, grooming itself in content—then moving off to a warm patch of sun and curling into a ball on your deck. Deciding you don’t want to waste this precious moment, you clean up the container before grabbing your laptop, and setting up shop on the deck for a few more hours before work, writing alongside the silent company of your tiny visitor.

“Okay, I have to go to work,” you announce after a few hours have passed, not entirely sure why you’re detailing this to the cat. If it really was a stray, it would probably remove itself from your company whenever. Or, you’d return home after work to it having disappeared again. The thought made you wistful—maybe even a bit sad. This had been the first you’d ever had the cat’s extended company and attention for, and you were growing quite used to it.

To your surprise, when it actually is time to leave for work, the cat begins to follow you after you’ve closed and locked up your little house. You let out an amused half smile, watching as the cat follows alongside you. “What, are you my chauffeur now?”

The walk to work that day is infinitely more amusing than all the other times you’d walked the same path. You don’t have much to ramble to your companion about that day, though you do mention that you wonder if Juyeon will pop in at the coffee shop in the afternoon. Typically, he was a morning coffee person, but you’d seen him stop by in the evenings once in a while. Instead of talking as you walk, though, you watch as the cat darts ahead of you every once in a while—chasing a stray leaf on the breeze and pouncing after it down the street until it lies motionless on the ground. Sometimes, the cat lags behind, and you find yourself glancing over your shoulder to see what curiosities it's getting itself into—jumping on a fence to tease a dog, sniffing around at certain things on the path, or slinking down close to the ground and acting as if it’s hunting nothing in particular, before darting ten feet ahead of you at a run and waiting for you to catch up.

“Don’t stay out here for too long tonight,” you warn the cat, pausing outside the coffee shop. “This street gets busy on weekends, someone might not see you…” You didn’t want to imagine the poor cat getting lost in the crowd. The coffee shop was in the center of a small village shopping square, and on weekend evenings it filled up with families and others sharing date nights and evening events together. You frown, wondering if the cat will listen, before giving the animal a small little wave and heading inside.

When you set to work, you can’t help but find yourself glancing out the window periodically—taking mental stock of the cat through your shift. Each time you go to clean a table, you peer out the window and see the cat either peering right back in at your, or napping somewhere nearby. Every time you call out someone’s order, you push yourself onto your tiptoes to glance over the customer’s shoulder as they near, mentally noting every spot the little black shape outside moves to. If a new customer enters the shop, you greet them and take their order, and before the transaction finishes you ask in a quiet voice if there’s a cat outside still—relieved when a customer confirms they’d seen one lounging about.

Halfway through your shift, your cat friend disappears from the view of the window, and a small panic sets in. You notice as you’re taking an order for a couple of guests, two people who can’t seem to settle on their decision and keep talking over each other as they tell you what they want. They aren’t the type of people to inquire about the cat outside, especially since it seems as though they’ve popped into the coffee shop for an afternoon pick-me-up to help settle some of their irritation. Yet as you speak with them, and punch in their order, you can’t help your eyes darting off to the side now and again to try and peek around them and out the window.

“Can you take over the register for a bit?” You ask of your coworker almost as soon as the two chatty, indecisive guests walk away. You don’t wait for them to reply—considering they always drop the same on you without warning. It’s rare of you to return the “favor,” but you don’t feel guilty doing so.

As you move around the counter, you grab a tray and a cleaning rag in order to clean some tables, eyes never leaving the window as you do so.

“Was that your cat? The one outside?” Your coworker asks, scoffing. “Should take better care of it.”

You scowl, eyes snapping back to your coworker, who shrinks in surprise at the ferocity of your gaze. “No it’s not. It’s a stray that followed me, and I’m worried.” As you turn away from them, you grumble under your breath, “You have a nasty habit of assuming the worst of people.”

As you near the window, searching for the black furry shadow outside, your eyes are so fixated you barely register the door of the shop opening and the lackluster greeting being called out by your coworker. In fact, you’re so out of it that, as you move, you practically stumble straight into a wall of body that had just entered the shop. You stumble back in surprise, realizing that you’ve almost walked straight into a customer, glancing up to apologize—and blanching when you realize it’s Juyeon.

“S-sorry!”

Juyeon smiles in greeting. “It’s fine,” he answers, before glancing over his shoulder outside, then back down at you. “Are you okay?”

“I— yeah… I just—” You frown. “Nevermind, it’s nothing. What can I get for you today?” Sparing one last glance at the window, you move back toward the counter, eyeing your coworker as they move away and disappear, refusing as always to take the young warlock’s order.

“Can I sit at the bartop today?” Juyeon asks, trailing after you. You glance over your shoulder at him in surprise, before nodding.

“Let me take your order and then you can take a seat.”

“I’d like a mochachino today.”

You punch in the order, looking at him in surprise. “Chocolate?”

Juyeon smiles that soft smile that always seems to leave you winded and out of breath. “Craving something sweet, but I’ve got some work to do, so I need something that will keep me awake, too.”

You nod, letting out a hum of understanding from the back of your throat. When you read the total off to him, Juyeon pays the appropriate amount, and you wave him to the bartop just to the left of the cash register. His presence at the bartop is almost certain to keep your coworker from ever returning to the front of house, so you silently hope that no sudden rush comes through the cafe as you set to work making his drink.

“Why did you seem so distracted when I came in earlier?” Juyeon asks, tone of voice idle. You glance over your shoulder, away from the espresso machine, in surprise when he speaks. Had he always been this chatty? Although, to be fair, Juyeon always came in during the morning rushes and you never had a chance to actually talk to him.

You aren’t sure what really catches you by surprise—the fact that he’s making conversation with you, or the fact that his deep voice has caused your heart to begin a rapid and stuttering beat in your chest. Yet, somehow, despite your nervousness to be talking to a young man you’d always admired from your own little corner of the coffee shop, and how he gazed out the window and watched the world in silent content and admiration, and offered up sweet and soft smiles to everyone around him—his voice also fills you with a warmth that’s almost soothing. Like the familiar smell of the coffee grounds that waft through the shop daily, then later cling to the strands of your hair when you get home. It feels familiar.

“Are you really okay?” He asks, prompting again.

“I’m fine. I was just worried… there was a cat outside. It followed me to and from work yesterday and today, and now that it’s getting busy I’m wondering where it went off to and if it’s okay. I feel responsible even though it might be a stray that just followed me for its own amusement,” you explain as you work.

When you finish Juyeon’s order, you turn and set it on the counter in front of him. He smiles, as always, and takes it with a polite and soft thank you, before leveling you with his gaze.

When his eyes land on you, almost instantly you feel your heart seize up in your chest. You’ve never been this close to Juyeon before—never actually gotten a good look at him up close. His features from afar are stunning; he’s handsome in a very simple way that’s easy on the eyes. But up close, it’s almost as if he’s crafted from marble. You’ve never had a chance to admire his sharp features; study the lines of his jaw and his high-placed cheekbones, notice the square shape of his earlobes, or admire his long and straight nose or the way his lips curl upward slightly at the corners.

“Cats are street smart, you know. I’m sure your little stray friend is fine. They probably know these streets better than the both of us,” Juyeon replies, “And luckily for them, people in this town are a little kinder to stray cats than other types of strays.”

It’s then that you meet his gaze, catching on to a deeper implication of his words—studying his almond-shaped brown eyes and taking note of the curious amber flecks that hit the warm yellow light of the cafe just right.

“No way,” you breathe out.

Juyeon smiles—and this time, his smile isn’t the usual soft and kind one, but one that pushes his cheeks up in a way that causes his eyes to smile along with the rest of his face. He seems much too amused by the realization setting across your face, followed by a flush that follows soon after. You’d ranted and rambled about Lee Juyeon to Lee Juyeon—albeit not the human one.

You’d heard that some witches and warlocks could shapeshift, and that others had familiars. Never once in your life did you think you’d somehow be on the receiving end of that gift. Of course, it made sense, considering the treatment around town that Juyeon often received—that he’d either hide in another form or test the honesty of those he interacted with in a different form.

Juyeon lifts his coffee cup to his lips, smiling over the rim. “Can I walk you home tonight? Perhaps this time not as a cat? I’d love to hear you regale one of your lavish tales of me.”

#juyeon fic #juyeon fanfic #the boyz fic #the boyz fanfic #juyeon #the boyz #tbz fanfic #m.writes

[stxrrywildflower]

safe

pairing - spencer reid x reader

summary - after being kidnapped by the unsub, you must race to escape the labyrinth you are imprisoned in while the team receives a shocking video reguarding your safety. (summary is kinda bad :( pls read though)

warnings - kidnapping, mentions of possible rape, blood and injuries, slight curing

word count - ?

you creeped into the house after hearing a large crash from inside. originally, hotch had sent you to a suspects house to investiagte. it was only 10 minutes away and the suspect wasn’t likely to be the unsub which is why you are allowed to go alone. however, you currently found yourself gun drawn, creeping through the house.

despite the crash, it was eerily quiet. almost too quiet. you thought you heard a creek from behind you but once spinning around you were met with nothing. you sighed and placed your gun back in your holster on your hip with the intention of picking up one of the papers on the table.

instead, you heard a sickening crack and felt nothing but pain in the back of your head. seconds later, everything went dark.

meanwhile, back at the police station, hotch paced back in forth as he listened to morgan, rossi, and emily debate theories. reid and j.j. were at the morgue examining the past victims bodies.

“how long has y/n been gone?” hotch asked, gaining the attention of his fellow agents.

“about an hour i would say, why?” rossi responded.

hotch opened his mouth to respond but stopped when one of the police officers knocked on the door of the conference room. he walked over to open the door and accepted the package that was given. “what’s that?” morgan asked as he moved next to hotch who shrugged. the package was light and looked official.

after opening, he let out a frustrated sigh. inside was y/n’s badge and gun. “no, no, no,” emily spoke as she immediately went to grab her phone to call reid and j.j., presumably telling them to get back as soon as possible. meanwhile, hotch was on the phone calling garcia.

you woke up with a throbbing pain in your skull. you would be shocked if you didn’t have a concussion. you tried to examine your surroundings but you were only in a long grey hallway with four doors on the surrounding sides, nothing else. suddenly, one of the doors opened and your presumed captor walked in. he had on a full black outfit including a mask, preventing you from seeing your face.

“ah agent y/n, welcome!” the unsub spoke.

you groaned and went to pull against the ropes tying your hands back. “what the hell do you want,” you practically growled out. that only made the unsub last.

“i want to play a game. both with you and your team. first things first, i’m going to take off the restraints and then your shirt. if you try anything i will put a bullet in your brain. do you understand?” he asked. you nodded slightly as the tears started flowing once thinking of the possible scenarios the could happen. the only two were that he wanted you to feel exposed or the fact that he could potentially rape you.

the ropes tying your hands back were suddenly cut leaving you free. the unsub then pulled your shirt off and began to slowly walk away but not before re-tying your hands. “by the way agent y/n, if your team does find where we are located, there’s a slim chance that they will actually find you. and if you do make it out of this room, try not to go insane when you get lost,” he said with a grin before fully exited the room clutching your shirt. you glanced down at your exposed torso. you were left in your black jean pants, combat boots, and sports bra. you could work with that.

decided to try something you saw in a movie, you stood up as much as you could and the slammed down on the floor as hard as you could. the wooden chair broke underneath you, allowing for you to slip out of the restraints and stand up. it took a couple tries for you to regain your balance, even then you had to hold on to a wall. but once reaching the closet door you used all your strength in an attempt to pry it oppen. thankfully after a few minutes, the door opened just enough for you to slip out. once out of the room, you realized just want the unsub meant. you were in a labyrinth with at least 12 different paths in front of you.

“alright, i need to get back to the team. i need to get back to spencer,” you mumbled softly to yourself as you picked one of the paths.

spencer and j.j. rushed into the police station and into the room they were set up in. morgan let j.j. through but shut the door once reid reached them. “morgan what the hell is going on!” reid shouted. morgan gripped his arm and led him to a different room, glancing at hotch on the way who simply nodded.

“reid, y/n has been taken by the unsub. he sent her badge and gun in a package to hotch a few minutes ago,” morgan spoke softly.

spencer shot up. “y/n? no, she couldn’t have been. i should have been with her,” he rushed out. morgan walked over and placed his arms on reid’s shoulders. “hey pretty boy, i need you to take a deep breath and look to me,” morgan started before picking up once reid did just that. “i know you love her and are obviously taking this hard but we need your head in this. we will get her back reid.”

spencer nodded before being led out of the room and into the other by morgan. the room, however, went silent when he stepped in. “spence,” j.j. spoke softly. “can we please just get back to the case?” he mumbled. hotch glanced around before calling garcia back.

“anything?” he asks.

“nothing yet, the profile is giving me too many results. i need more info-” garcia started but cut off when her attention went to something else.

“what garcia?” emily sputtered out.

“oh my god, you need to see this,” she gasped. suddenly a live video feed was displayed on the tv. it was a long grey hallway, unknown to the team it was just like the one you were in earlier. at the end, just out of view to get a good look of the face was a women in a chair. she had your color hair and the same shirt you were wearing.

“that’s her shirt,” reid struggles to get out.

everyone turned back to look at the screen. a figure appeared in the room, presumably the unsub, and pulled out a gun. the room went silent as a gunshot echoed through. the women fell back in the chair, dead from the bullet through her forehead.

from that moment on, the teams expressions changed. garcia hung up and attempted to track the signal. reid rushed out of the room and down the hallway, tears already appearing on his cheeks. j.j. followed him, ready to comfort him at loosing his girlfriend but could not help but begin crying herself. emily was shocked and stood still for a moment before derek brought her in a hug. hotch and rossi delt with the fact that you could be dead the best. they kept straight faces and turned to each other.

“she could still be alive,” hotch started. “hotch-” rossi started but was cut off by hotch again. “we couldn’t make out the female in the image. yes, she did look like y/n but we can’t be sure of that. we need to finish the profile,” he stated before turning back to the board.

“wait!” rossi exclaimed. “y/n was only taken a little over an hour ago. how did the unsub manage to package, get the proper stamps and confirmation, and send it to us in the short time.”

“he’s a mailman,” emily stated once she stepped away from morgan. she then pulled out her phone to call garcia before handing it to hotch.

“garcia, we concluded that the house y/n was out was an old address and no one lived there,” hotch spoke resulting in garcia nodding. “how many mailmen are there in this town?” garcia typed for a minute. “8,” she spoke.

“this guy would have a history of medical issues regarding ocd and possible bipolar disorder. he’s mid 30s-40s and needs to have owned a big area of land,” rossi adds to the profile.

“one sir. aiden o’riley. he owns a 30 acre property just outside of the city. i just sent the address to your phones.”

“let’s go. assume y/n is alive and be careful,” hotch ordered. j.j. and reid were alerted and ran to an suv alongside everyone else.

once arriving to the property with the other police officers, they moved in the building which led to the underground. they then all realized that it was a maze. after receiving further orders from hotch, morgan took of running down one of the straight hallways.

he turned a few corners, deeming each clear and moving on. suddenly, after spinning around in the dark hallway, his body collided with someone. he immediately pointed his gun and flashlight at the figure.

you glanced into morgan’s light despite the pain it brought you. “y/n,” he breathed out. “morgan i’m okay, i’m okay i promise,” you rushed. he pulled you into a tight hug after retracting his gun and cradled the back of your head with his hand.

“we thought you were dead,” morgan revealed. you glanced up confusingly, desperately trying to ignore the pain in your head.

“what?” you went to ask but we’re cut off by the piercing sound of the intercome morgan was using. you gasped and lowered yourself to the ground, just then feeling the true pain of your injuries.

“we got o’riley!” the voice called.

you groaned as morgan spoke back. you heard your name through the radio system but couldn’t make out what they were saying. you shut your eyes and tried to focus on what morgan was then saying to you. it was something along the lines of ‘i’m going to get you out of here’. your body was lifted by morgan and you burrowed yourself into his shoulder, thankful for your practically older brother at that point.

once reaching the exit, morgan set you down on your feet after you claimed you could walk. he kept an arm firmly around you as you were guided out onto the grass. the first one to notice you was hotch who had exited closest to you. he ran over and shrugged off his fbi jacket. you just sobbed slightly and hugged him which he greatfully accepted. the jacket was then wrapped around you to cover you up as you were guided around the building to the ambulance that was waiting.

you sat in the back of the ambulance, not on the gurney yet, with hotch and morgan next to you. the emt’s voices became mumbled as you noticed a tall skinny man and a blonde woman emerge from the building.

“spencer?” you called out softly. morgan glanced down confused and then up at spencer who’s line of vision was where you were. the two of you made eye contact. at that moment you didn’t care about your injuries.

you shrugged off the emt’s and ripped out the iv i’m your arm. after stumbling down and out of morgan and hotch’s grip, you took off running to where spencer was. it obviously took you a little while to do, due to your injuries including your leg but the time was cut in half when spencer met you half way.

he pulled you into a tight hug. your arms went around his back and you burrowed your head in his chest. he just gasped slightly and hid his face in your shoulder.

“we all thought you were dead. the unsub sent us a video of him shooting someone who looks exactly like you,” spencer mumbled into your head.

you pulled away softly. “that explains why he took my shirt. but hey, i’m here now and i’m alive and i’m not going anywhere. that’s all that matters,” you spoke, moving your hand up to his cheek. he smiled at you before leading you back towards the ambulance where a smiling hotch and grinning morgan stood.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #derek morgan

[the-jade-cross]

No Matter What - Chapter 3

Chapter 3

When the girl woke, she heard a dozen voices whispering nearby. Slowly sitting up, making sure to not upset her hammock, she felt a couple of eyes peering at her from around the corner and when she turned to them, they bolted off, causing her to smile. She got to her feet and grabbed her shoes which she had left on the grass below the hammock, only to find a small white daisy resting in one of the shoes. Feeling her heart pounding, she pressed the flower close to her nose and besides the fresh scent coming from the flower, she picked up a scent of soil, cotton, and something almost citrus like… sort of like an orange. She wondered who left it there.

After pulling her shoes on and placing the daisy carefully in the front pocket of her jeans, she headed towards the delicious smell that was coming from one of the huts. As she approached, she found several wooden tables set in a circle fashion, all the boys lined up getting their meal servings.

“Say Frypan,” Gally called as he sat down with his food at the head of one of the tables. “You never make bacon for breakfast. What’s the occasion?”

Before Frypan even needed to answer, he caught sight of the girl approaching and grinning broadly, pointed his frying pan in her direction.

“It’s Girl!” Winston shouted, causing every eye to land on the girl as her face heated up when she found herself at the center of attention.

Zart elbowed him harshly, “That’s not her name!”

The girl was about to begin to dream of a life where the earth swallowedhere in this instant when a hand rested on her shoulder, making her jump and there stood Alby with a comforting smile on his face.

“Come on tough one, time to eat.” He said, draping his arm over her shoulders and bringing her toward the line.

When Frypan handed the girl her plate, Alby led her over to the table where Gally, Winston, Zart and Newt sat. She found myself squashed between Winston while Alby sat beside her to keep her from having to sit next to Gally, meaning that she was across the table from Newt.

“So?” Winston chirped before she could even take a bite. “Figured out your name yet?”

She shook my head, “No… nothing… all I can remember is WR.”

“WR?” Gally inquired. “Couldn’t that be your initials or something? Though that would be strange since all of us only has one name.”

She shook her head again as she took a bite of bacon, “No… I know for a fact it is not my name… I feel like I would know that it has something to do with my name or not… it is almost like… like the Glade. The Glade is where you guys, and now me live, eat and sleep. It is a part of your identity. I feel like WR is a part of my identity… just not my name.”

Soon, all eyes were on her and everyone, but Alby and Newt were staring at her with slack jaws and wide eyes. Alby was smiling thoughtfully at her while Newt was smiling with a look in his eyes that she did not know but it made the feeling of his gaze made her blush crimson.

“Is there a job in the glade for really smart people?” Winston inquired. “Because I think Slicers is way underrated for her.”

She smiled but shook my head, “Honestly it’s fine. I want to help there. I’m not that smart anyway.”

“Well, we cannot keep calling her Girl,” Gally observed. “We can always resort to…”

“Do not finish that sentence,” She warned through my teeth.

Gally lifted his hands in surrender, a smirk on his face. “It has never taken this long for someone to remember and we gotta know what to call you.”

the girl shrugged when suddenly something brushed her foot and she realized that Newt’s foot had been resting next to hers on the ground below the table and when he sat up straight, his foot shifted.

“I’ve got an idea!” he said, leaving his plate and catapulting off the seat and back towards the Homestead.

“What was that all about?” she inquired, only for Gally to smirk like a mischievous cat.

Everyone shrugged but then the girl heard Gally mutter something.

“Poor guy’s got it bad!”

She turned to him, thinking that perhaps he was talking about someone else but then she realized that his piercing black eyes were smirking at her.

“What do you mean?” she asked, tilting her head in the hopes of getting a clearer answer from Gally.

The boy shrugged as he stuffed a bite of pancakes into his mouth, speaking around the bite. “Just saying that Newt has got it bad for you.”

She frowned, “Like he hates me?”

Her heart dropped to the soles of her feet at the thought of Newt hating her. Sure, she had only known him for about a day, but he was so nice, thoughtful and sweet that it felt strange to think of him hating me… but then again, perhaps she had just misread his kindness… maybe he was just putting the niceness on as a front to hide his distaste for her. After all, she was the one and only girl in the glade. Maybe the reason no other girl has ended up here is because whoever put them here knew that Newt hated girls… maybe all of the guys hated girls…

Alby seemed to sense her worry and quickly patted her shoulder, “Of course not Greenie. Gally didn’t mean it like that.”

She moved her head toward Gally, hoping that Gally would back Alby up and thankfully he did, his eyes widening in shock when he realized how the girl had interpreted his words.

“No, no, no! I didn’t mean it like that! Trust me, if there is one person Newt hates, it’s me and I know for a fact that he doesn’t hate you. I mean he has it bad for you because… you see… erm….”

She realized that Gally couldn’t seem to get the words out, fearing that what he would say would make he worried again so Winston finished it for him.

“He means that Newt has a crush on you.”

The girl almost choked on her bite of bacon and gawked at the boys at the table who were all giving her earnest looks, meaning that they all thought the same, “Me!? But… I… I’ve only been here for a day and… Maybe you just think that cause I am the only girl…”

Zart shook his head, “Newt has a different personality around everyone. For Alby he is like a comrade and a follower. Around Gally, he’s the leader. For Winston and the younger guys, he’s almost like a father or big brother… trust me girl, he has a big bad crush.”

She was about to argue further when Newt came barreling back to the table and sat down in his seat, pushing his plate aside and set something in front of the girl. She looked down at it before taking it into her hands. It was a deep green jar with a little cloth top, tied down with a cord and a small slit in the cloth.

“I cleaned it out from the storage house,” Newt explained. “Over the next few days, if you do not remember your name, all of us will put some name suggestions in the jar and maybe if you read them, you can remember!”

The girl's eyes widened, both in surprise at Newt’s quick thinking and solving of her problem and her heart also skipped at the thoughtfulness of the gesture. She touched the jar, and it was cold and still damp from Newt scrubbing it clean of any dirt. The cloth was clean and newly cut as if he had done it just a moment ago and the cord wasn’t tied in a knot but in a simple shoelace bow, the two rabbit ears carefully pulled to be exactly the same size. Through the slit that there were about five little pieces of paper already in there from some of the guys who had already entered a name.

She lifted her eyes and smiled at Newt, “Thank you so much! I love it!”

Newt beamed and went back to his meal, not even realizing that Gally had swiped all his bacon and his pancakes were cold and dry, his smile still on his face. All the other guys were smirking at them and the girl could just tell that the smug look on Zart’s face was: ‘Told you: a crush.’

******

Winston had begun to show the girl the ropes over the course of the first two days. He showed her where the feed for the animals was stored in the loft in the rafters to keep it dry. He told her that the Trackhoes brought in the feed such as dried grass, corn, and all the scraps (for the pigs) which they stored inside for the days when they could not let the animals out like when it is rainy. There is a simple picket fence that surrounds the Bloodhouse made of a few poles and wire.

According to Winston it is not incredibly sturdy, but it helps keep the animals close to the Bloodhouse and away from the crops and other Glade members, so they don’t get underfoot. When Winston asked which part of Slicers she wanted to help with, she turned down the idea of helping slaughter the animals, so she was paired up with another Glader: Bailey, in feeding the animals and cleaning the Bloodhouse if they ever made a “mess”.

Every morning at breakfast she checked the name jar and sure enough, there were a handful of new papers inside the jar. She chose to not open it until it was full because she wanted to get everyone’s opinion even though the majority of them put in three or four suggestions each. She was beginning to get tired of being called Girly, Greenie, or Spitfire (something Gally had come up when she rejected his past nickname, him claiming that it “spoke volumes about her red hair”. She had taken to tying her hair back in a braid every day, not wanting to bother with the headful of wild curls but to give her head a break, she would take the braid out and let her hair run wild while she slept. She was not sure what the guys would say about it since they had only seen her in a braid, so she always waited to take her hair out when they were all asleep or when it was dark.

Finally, on the fourth day, at lunch she pulled out the name jar from where she had left it by Frypan’s stove (So at meals the guys could toss a name in) and untied the top carefully so as to not completely destroy Newt’s hard work. When the boys saw her opening the jar, they all began to pile over and sit as close to her as possible. She became squashed between Gally and Winston with Alby, Newt and Minho across from her with all the other guys sitting nearby or at the closest tables so they could hear.

"Minho, could you read them allowed?" she asked sheepishly, earning a wide grin and a nod from the boy,

One by one Minho drew out a name and read it aloud before setting it down next to the jar. The girl didn’t make any “eh no” or “I really like that!” to any of the names because she didn’t want the guys to feel bad but about a fifth through the names, Alby caught on.

“You can speak your mind Spitfire,” he assured her. “It is gonna be your name anyhow. If you don’t like some names, it won’t hurt our feelings. To be honest, if you do not choose Boyd then I am sure Gally will understand.”

She froze and turned to the guy on her right, “You wrote Boyd? You do realize that’s a guy name, right?”

Gally smirked and ruffled the top of her head, “I just wanted to see what you would think.”

She smiled and began to separate the names into two piles as Minho read them: No and “Maybe”. She didn’t want to say yes to any of them until she had read through them all.

As Minho and her continued to go through the names, Newt left the table and soon returned with two more jars: one clear and the other blue. He helped her put the “no” names in the blue jar and the “maybe” in the white. When the green name jar was empty, she grabbed the white jar and began to slowly go through the names, Minho calling them aloud again.

“Fiona….”

“’s pretty,” Zart observed. “Sounds really ladylike.”

The girl pursed her lips in thought before placing that name in the Blue jar.

“Poppy,” she read, and she heard Winston chuckle, indicating that he had thought of that one. “I might as well just stick with Spitfire.”

The table laughed and Gally leant over to whisper to her, “Don’t worry, none of the other names have to do with your hair Greenie.”

“Kendal…”

“Trixie…”

“Willow…”

“Elizabeth…”

“Grace…”

It felt like almost an hour passed and the girl was beginning to feel bad because the guys had finished their lunch and she knew she was holding them up from doing their chores. Finally, she took the white jar in her hands and turned to the others.

“Do ya’ll mind if I look over these later tonight before bed… let me think about it?”

Alby and Newt smiled at her from across the table, sensing her ulterior motive to not hold the Gladers up.

“Sure thing!” the guys all told her, some of them patting her on the back and whispering a name suggestion before they headed off to their jobs.

That was the end of the name jar for the morning, but she took the jar with her to the Bloodhouse. She set it on the table by the door and every time someone passed it, they took out a new name and called it out as a suggestion. By the end of the day, there were about ten names left but she didn’t bring them up at the dinner table so she settled into her hammock while the guys were asleep, pulled her hair loose and began to silently contemplate the remaining names to herself:

Julia

Vera

Catherine

Zinnia

Olivia

Hannah

Mary

Iris

Brianna

And…

Fawn

There was something about the last name that had been drawn from the jar: Fawn, that had stuck to her. It didn’t click a memory or anything like the guys said her name would but… something about it made her refuse to throw it with the other names in the blue jar.

“Any ideas?” a voice asked to her left and she almost jumped.

She turned and there sat Minho, awake and smirking at her from his hammock.

“I didn’t know anyone was awake,” she admitted.

Minho smiled. “I saw you get in and start to think. I wanted to be the first person to find out your name. So… any thoughts?”

SHe sighed, “This one… Fawn. I cannot stop thinking about it. The others in the jar I like but this one sticks.”

“Well then maybe that is your ‘sign’. I totally get the logic though.” Minho observed.

She turned and stared at him puzzled, earning a soft chuckle from the boy. “Your eyes. They may be green, but they are big and round like a cute animal’s and your freckles and just the innocence in your face is just like a little deer.”

“I was considering just keeping Spitfire,” she confessed, shaking her head to make her curls bounce.

Minho smirked. “Your hair might be crazy and red, but it’s cute too.”

SHe shrugged, “Listen… Minho… I don’t mind you being the first to find out my choice of name but… don’t tell anyone about my hair okay?”

The boy frowned, “Why is that?”

“I just… I’m… a little insecure… I mean… I’m the only girl and I would hate for the guys to look at me weird…” she confessed.

Minho smiled. “For the record, the guys wouldn’t care if your hair was a mop or a crow’s nest. But I will keep it a secret… Fawn.”

Fawn smiled at the use of her new name and soon the two of them drifted off to sleep.

#maze #maze runner #newt x y/n #newt x you #newt x oc #newt x reader #newt

[celtics534]

Home

I received a wicked cute prompt and I just couldn’t resist working on it. 

Prompt:  She saw the look in his eyes. It was that of a goodbye. He was going and believed that he was not coming back. They have been one for so long and yet he never took that last step. But she could see it in his eyes. He was going to do it as a final farewell to her. "I lo-" he started but she leapt at him before he could continue, crashing her lips to his, pouring all her feelings and passion into it. "Tell me after you are back." She replied. She has waited all her life for this so she would let his confession to be his first and last time truly show how he felt. He had to live this. He had to live this so they could finally live the life they dreamed of since the very first time they met. Yes, it is a prompt for AU Hinny if you are interested…

I hope you like it anon who sent the prompt!

Background: Muggle AU. Ginny’s in college and Harry is in the army.

Read on: FF.net or AO3

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The hordes of bustling people paid them no mind as they stood there. It was like they were frozen in this spot, trying to hold on to everything they had and would every gain. Every breath ticked like a clock, making them horribly aware of their limited time. 

 Ginny stared at him, trying to memorize every feature. Every laugh line and sun-created freckle. She wanted to remember the shape of his green eyes and how they always seemed to shine brightly around her… for her. 

 It wasn’t fair. It just wasn’t fair! After finally finding each other, he was being taken away from her. But she could never resent him for this, for leaving for something he truly believed in. Harry was a man of honor and bravery, and it was something Ginny admired about him. Yet, it still hurt knowing that after only getting three months together he was leaving.

 They had met in the little cafe off campus where she worked. Waiting tables was just something she did to gain a little money while taking classes at the local university. Harry had walked in, his face flushed from the warm summer sun. Ginny hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him. The sharp jawline that went so well with his nose, how his muscles had flexed while he’d bent down to tie his loosened shoelace, and then there had been his eyes. Even to this day, Ginny still was mesmerized by the shade of them. She’d seen plenty of green eyes before, but none the same shade of green as Harry’s. 

Maybe because she had been so distracted by trying to define his eye color was why Ginny had tripped over her own feet and spilled the tea she had been carrying all over the man in question. Thankfully it had been tea of the iced variety (never had she been so thankful for Americans coming to her country), but still it ruined the starch white of his vest. 

 Harry had been easy going about the whole thing, simply dabbing at the stained cloth while Ginny apologized profusely. She had brought as many towels as she could find to help clean him up. “It’s really not bad.” Harry had smiled at her while she began to fuss over the brown spot that just wouldn’t leave. “It’s still a better style than cheetah print.” 

 Even with nervousness boiling belly, Ginny hadn’t been able to resist laughing. “Still, I feel horrible. My shift is over in about five minutes so if you wait I can run to the bank and get you some money for dry cleaning or a new —”

 “Or...” Harry had cut off her rambling with a smile. “How about when you get off you can pay me in the way of your company. I was actually going to be heading to the launderette nearby and I would love to have someone come and wait with me while I wait for my pants to wash.” 

 And that had been the beginning of the end for Ginny. The end of her single life, that is. While sitting in the uncomfortable launderette chairs, she and Harry had chatted like old friends. Like people who had known each other their whole lives. They’d talked about everything and anything. From Harry’s current leave from the SAS to Ginny’s family back in Devon. By the time his clothing was in the dryer, Ginny knew everything she needed to know about Harry James Potter to know she was right to fancy him. His eyes were gorgeous and so was the rest of him. He had a quick wit, kind heart, and a sarcastic sense of humor. All of which Ginny adored just as much as his eyes.  

 She had started to panic slightly when his dryer had stopped. Ginny hadn’t wanted it to end. She’d wanted to stay, chatting with Harry forever. Her mind had begun to buzz with ways to keep their night going, but Harry had simply suggested that they could go get dinner. 

 The dinner had just been a simple walk-in fish and chips place around the block, but it was exactly what Ginny had wanted. They had walked to one of the green spaces near the campus, taking seats on the grass and enjoyed their dinner and company. Ginny couldn’t remember how late they’d stayed out there, but it was long enough for the sky to darken. That had been the first time Harry had kissed her.

 From there, their romance had progressed. Dinners out together, nights snuggling on the sofa while she read her textbooks, staying up late in his bed. And then he’d been told to come back to base. It had been like a record scratching to a stop. 

 That had been two weeks ago. Two weeks of anxiety and worry. For some reason, the fact that he would be called back to active duty never broke through Ginny’s happy little bubble (the bubble that contained just him and her and all their plans). 

  Harry’s fingers came to brush a stray strand of hair out of her face, bring Ginny out of her reverie. “Will you be okay?” 

 Ginny tried to force some levity in her voice. “Of course. It’s not like I actually enjoyed your company, Potter. I just kept you around for the sex.” 

 Harry snorted “Is that so? And here you just wanted me for my sense of humor and charm.” 

 “I mean those were side benefits, but really you’re just a good shag.” 

 A smile curled his lips. “Now, why don’t I —” The cool woman over the loudspeaker made Harry’s cheeky comment falter. 

 “Last call for flight four hundred and twenty to London.”

 To London… then Iran. A hand curled around Ginny’s gut, squeezing tightly. She looked back up at him. There was a look to his eyes, one of fear and determination but also one of… Ginny’s heart started to beat so hard she thought it might crack a rib. He looked like a man who thought he would never get to return. As if he was saying goodbye forever. 

 She’d asked him if he knew where he was going, of course, he’d told her that was classified. But the closer they’d gotten to his flight the more nervous his energy had become. And based on his nerves and the expression on his face now… Ginny could assume it was more dangerous than she’d feared. 

 Her throat seemed to swell, making each breath painful. “Harry?” 

 He merely shook his head and pulled her tightly into his arms. Ginny could feel his body tremble as his pursed lips pressed into her neck. 

 She loved this man. The fact still surprised Ginny. After only a few months Ginny would do anything for this man. Yet, she hadn’t told him. The words I love you had always felt forced and unnecessary to Ginny. She believed in showing someone how much she cared for them, and with Harry showing him was the easiest thing in the world. Yet, at that moment Ginny couldn’t help but think about saying… about hearing those three words. 

 Harry pulled away, his forehead coming to rest on hers. “Ginny, I lo —”

 And just like that Ginny couldn’t bear to hear those words. Not like this. Not when he thought it would be the last time they ever saw each other. Her fingers knotted into his hair as she pulled his face down and connected their lips. 

 She swallowed his surprised nose, letting herself get lost in the feel of him (even if his rucksack and uniform hindered how much she could touch). “Save it for when you come home,” Ginny murmured against his mouth when she pulled away. 

 Harry stared at her, those beautiful green eyes having taken on a dazed looked to them. “Gin?”

 Ginny stood on her tiptoes “Come home to me, Harry.” She whispered the words into his ear before stepping away. Taking a second to compose herself, Ginny straightened his tie. “Tell me when you come back. It will hold until then”

 She could see his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed, then he nodded. “I’m going to hold you to that.” 

 Ginny smiled warmly at him. “Good.”

 XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 Ginny tapped her pen on the side of her desk. The library closed in twenty minutes and she still had at least another hour of work on this paper. Why she’d chosen sports medicine as her major was a mystery to her at this moment. She could have done something with a lot fewer bone names to memorize, but of course, she’d never chosen the easy path. 

 Femur fractures are classified depending on: The location of the fracture —

 “Man, that looks like a nasty break.” A deep voice murmured somewhere behind her left ear. Ginny nearly jumped out of her skin as she whirled around to see… him. Harry. His grin was from ear to ear as he looked at her. 

 Ginny pinched her thigh, trying to wake herself from this glorious dream. Nothing. He was still there. Harry. Her Harry was here, in front of her after being gone for nearly a year. 

 It took a moment for her brain and mouth to reconnect. “Har —”

 Harry cut her off with a hot, heated kiss, before pulling back to meet her eyes. “I love you.” 

 Ginny’s eyes began to sting. She rose quickly out of her chair and hugged him. Hugged him so tightly that she wouldn’t be surprised if she cracked his ribs. She buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I’m so glad you’ve come home.” 

 “So I’ll take that as you kept your promise.” Harry’s voice was soft and whimsical, but he held her just as tightly as she held him. 

 She couldn’t contain her snort. “Lord help me, I still love you even after all this time.”

 Harry gently pulled away so their eyes met again. God, how she’d missed those eyes. “I knew it wasn’t just for the amazing sex.” 

 Ginny’s beamed at him. “Hmmm, I guess not, but I wouldn’t mind a refresher of what makes you such a splendid shag.”  

 He kissed her again. It was like every kiss was a bottle of Chardonnay, getting her drunker and drunker by the minute. “It will be my pleasure, love.”

#ask prompt #prompt fic #hinny #hinny fic #Harry Potter #Harry and Ginny #harry potter fanfiction #harry X ginny #harry potter fan fiction

[songofsoma]

Aere Perrenius

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles pairing: ava du mortain / cecilia beck rating: mature [ brief nsfw content ] word count: 1,716

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

read it on ao3

He had recognized her right away. It was hard not to since there weren’t many women who matched the beauty presented in the wedding portrait sent by House Beck.

She was supposed to be dead. Soldiers had found her horse with its throat cut on the forest floor, a halo of scattered belongings surrounding the body—a spare dress and slippers, a tattered journal that was barely legible from being soaked through with mud, and a small coin purse that had been emptied.

Dried blood had been found on a few trees as well as in the grass. Thankfully the rain had yet to wash away the evidence.

What they didn’t find was her body.

It was assumed she had been stolen away, judging by the multiple sets of footprints, most likely to be used like a whore and left for dead. Bastardly men haunted these woods so it would have been a reasonable conclusion.

He had almost believed it himself until he had seen her.

He had been riding through the woods, tired of being cooped up indoors, when a melodic laugh broke through the trees. There she stood, wrapped in the arms of a knight, with a smile so bright it could replace the sun. And he, the golden-haired knight, looked at her as if she truly were the sun in the sky.

Jealous rage threatened to tear him to pieces as he watched them from afar.

That man had taken what was rightfully his.

He would pay. 

They both would.

They both would wish that Lady Cecilia Beck had truly died that day. He would make sure of that.

***

She cringed at the sharp crash of metal as swords collided.

Cecilia was a safe distance away from the practice ring, sitting on a blanket one of Ava’s men had scrambled to get her. 

She had thought it was sweet. 

Ava had glared at him suspiciously causing him to swallow hard.

Her knight was in the center of the ring, sweat making every inch of her exposed skin glisten. Much to Cecilia’s horror, she had opted out of the protection of her armor with the excuse that it was far too hot. There was no concrete evidence to prove it, but she figured it was to show off to her lover.

Most of the time, Cecilia wouldn’t have complained. Watching Ava’s muscles flex as she moved was a welcomed sight when she wasn’t in danger. Ava would be disappointed to find out that her attention had been on the agony she felt when the edge of the blade grew too near or when she lost her footing for a brief second. Each time she recovered with astonishing grace, but that did nothing to ease her rising anxieties.

The gods above must have taken pity on her nerves for it was not long after until the man she was sparring with was flat on his back, the tip of Ava’s sword hovering just above his throat. 

“I concede!” He groaned.

It was almost drowned out by Ava’s hoot of victory followed by that of the other spectators.

“Think twice before you challenge me again, Victor,” she chided him boastfully. “I cannot tip the scales in your favor any further without blinding myself or tying my hands behind my back!” Ava roared with laughter, the other men joining in.

Cecilia watched them curiously. It was odd to see her like this, so loud and prideful, it was unlike their time alone. She enjoyed it, nonetheless, it was nice to see her happy.

Ava finally caught her eye whilst sheathing her sword. If it were even possible, her smile brightened further as she began to stride over to where she sat.

“Was my Lady pleased with my performance?” She asked, offering a hand to help Cecilia to her feet.

“I would have preferred if you had been adequately protected.” With one hand, she smoothed down the front of her skirt, chasing away any lingering dirt, the other was still ensnared by Ava’s.

The knight brought it to her lips, gently kissing her knuckles. It was a silent apology for causing her distress. “I assure you, if I would have believed it to have been a challenge, I would have been properly suited.”

She was unable to stay cross with Ava for very long, they both were acutely aware of this fact. Ava’s honeyed words and charming smile were enough to ease the tensions seizing her mind.

Cecilia huffed in defeat and Ava knew she had been victorious once more.

“Would you like to try?” She asked suddenly.

“Try what?” Dark brows furrowed in confusion.

Letting go of her hand, Ava gripped the pommel of her sword for emphasis. “Wielding a sword. Only if you are interested of course.”

“Oh.” Cecilia blinked. She hadn’t ever thought of such a thing. “I cannot find a valid reason as to why I should not.”

Emerald eyes sparkled with delight as she ushered the lady in the direction of the wooden dummies set up for practice.

A few of the other knights had been lingering, watching their superior with heated interest. Ava hardly seemed to notice, but Cecilia could feel their gazes. It didn’t seem malicious. Just simple curiosity.

The sound of metal sliced through the air as Ava withdrew her blade, twirling it in her grasp before handing it to Cecilia. “Now be mindful for it is heavier than it looks.”

She nodded. But still, when Ava dropped her hand away from the blade, the handle fell from Cecilia’s grasp and clattered on to the dirt.

The knight chuckled as the lady scrambled to retrieve it.

Just simply holding the weapon made Cecilia understand why Ava’s arms were wrapped in cords of muscle. Years of wielding such a beast would require her strength. It rendered the skill even more impressive.

She had a better grip on the blade the second time. The thick leather of the handle was smooth in her grasp as she admired the engravings on the blade. It looked like words were carved into the metal, but she couldn’t make them out.

“Omnia mors aquant,” warm breath tickled her ear as she leaned in, Ava’s chest pressing against her back. Strong hands slid down her arms until they covered her own, holding the blade steady in front of them. “Fate will find a way.”

Cecilia’s breath hitched in her throat at the touch. If she wasn’t wielding a large, dangerous weapon she might have lost herself in Ava in the middle of the training yard.

“Ominous,” she mumbled.

A low chuckle vibrated the air around them. “It is a line my father has repeated to me since I was a child. Your fate will find you, my girl. Fate will find a way.” Her voice deepened as she impersonated Lord du Mortain. “I suppose it just…stuck.”

She turned her head, stealing a brief glance at her knight.

“No matter, let us begin.”

***

Cecilia groaned as she fell back into bed, reveling in the embrace of the soft furs and feathered mattress. Droplets of water still clung to her skin not covered by the dressing gown she wore. Her eyes were heavy, and her arms were sore from that afternoon. Ava made fighting look so easy. She shouldn’t have been surprised. There were a lot of activities her knight made effortless.

As tired as she was, she couldn’t help the smile rise to her lips as she felt the bed dip as Ava crawled towards her. Gentle kisses were peppered over her neck and her face as the knight tried her damnedest to capture Cecilia’s full attention.

She cracked open one eye, unable to help herself, and was met with the sight of her lover’s gleeful smile. The ends of a flaxen braid tickled her cheek as Ava hovered above her before her head dipped to press a tender kiss to her lady’s lips.

“Tired?” Ava murmured.

Cecilia hummed a reply with a nod.

“Too tired for me?” The suggestive tone made her brows raise in question.

“Depends on what you had in mind,” she teased, fingertips dancing along the neckline of the aged shirt she wore.

“Nothing too taxing, I assure you.” The smile on her face made Cecilia melt.

Eager fingers pushed open the poorly tied robe. No matter how many times Ava witnessed her beauty, the curves of Cecilia’s body would never fail to leave her speechless. Where Ava was hard muscles and sharp lines, her lover was soft skin and rounded edges.

“You are beautiful.” She kissed the plushness of her cheek, trailing down her neck.

“Beautiful.” Her lips kissed the point of her shoulder and traveled across her collarbone.

“Beautiful.” Ava’s head bent to kiss between her breasts.

She watched her pursuit through hooded eyes, a smile unmoving from her face. What had she done to deserve such a woman?

“Ava,” she whispered, drawing the lustful gaze to her own. “I love you.”

Her movements stuttered for a brief moment before she surged forward, capturing her in a kiss that left them both breathless.

“You are my everything, little bird.” Large hands cupped either side of her face as she covered her in a look of adoration. “For I love you so much, I cannot stand it.”

Cecilia moved to situate herself on her knight’s lap, her arms winding around her neck, ready to lose herself in their embrace. Ava held her just as tightly. She seemed determined to not let go.

Their quiet was interrupted by a thought proposed aloud.

“Marry me.”

The lady pulled back, eyes widening. “What?”

Ava’s eyes glanced away from sudden nerves. “Marry me so I shall be able to call you mine for the rest of our lives.”

Her lips parted in surprise quickly turned into a smile. 

“Look at me,” she finally said.

Reluctantly, Ava complied.

Cecilia held her face with such tenderness, she was sure they both would melt. “There is nothing more I want than to be yours for eternity.”

“So?” Hope blossomed in her gaze.

“Of course I will marry you.”

The smile on Ava’s face surely would put the brightness of the sun to shame as she pulled her close, showering her with kisses and declarations of love through Cecilia’s giggles.

#title translation: more lasting than bronze #my fair lady #knight!ava #ava du mortain #ava du mortain x detective #ava du mortain x female detective #ava du mortain x mc #oc: cecilia beck #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #wayhaven #my writing #twc a #agent a #knight ava #wayhaven ava #twc ava #du mortain #a du mortain #twc fic #wayhaven fic #twc writing #wayhaven writing

[harrysgloves]

Trouble (chapter 4)

>>>Catch up with master list here!<<<

word count: 1.9k

story summary: You’re nothing but trouble and Harry can’t help the fact that he wants a taste.

warnings: Language // Mentions of past smut // Harry is a cute little jealous jelly bean

chapter summary: A piece of your past comes back.

a/n: Lots of supporting characters in this one which is pretty great writing them. I’m in love with them all and very protective of them at this point.

>>><<<

Harry should have known you'd be there with your back pressed tightly against a tree. One hand laying on some frat boy's chest as he chatted you up outside on the quad.

He rolled his eyes, his dark sunglasses shading him from the sun and everyone knowing he was staring at you talking up some asshole.

He couldn't help it. Ever since you two hooked up, you had avoided him like the plague. Every time he stepped into the living room and you were there, you'd find some reason to run to your room.

Even at parties when he'd usually go out for a cigarette with you, you'd quickly put yours out and go back inside.

He had no idea what the hell he'd done to get you to fully stop talking to him. Sure, you guys weren't best friends by any means but you were always friendly. At least said hi to him when he walked in the front door. Now you were avoiding him and it was driving him crazy.

"You fucked her and you still can't stop staring?" Lex asked with a laugh, pulling Harry away from his thoughts of you and back to your guys' group of friends.

"You got it bad, man." Finn said with a smile, taking a hit from his cigarette before Rose walked up to the group with Elena following shortly behind her.

"Who's got what bad? Do I need to get tested?" Rose asked, plopping down on the sun-warmed grass, taking Finn's cigarette from him to take a hit before giving it back.

"Ew, stop fucking doing that." He complained, handing the cigarette back to her. A proud smile on her face as she got it back, knowing it worked every single time.

"Seriously, what are we talking about?" She asked as she let out a puff of smoke.

"Nothin'." Harry mumbled out as he stretched out on the grass. His long legs crossed in front of him as he rested on his elbows.

"We're talking about how the British twat has a hard-on for Y/N still." Link said as Addie rolled her eyes, laying her head in his lap when she laid down on the grass. His fingers running absentmindedly through her dark hair.

"You guys hooked up?" Elena asked, her head snapping towards Harry.

A short nod of his head was all it took for her face to fall. Staring off into the distance, glaring at you still flirting your ass off with some jock.

"Oh, they didn't just hook up," Finn said, glowing from the fact he had managed to weasel out all the dirty little deals of yours and Harry's night together. "They had crazy sex. I mean, shit, the details were enough to get me going."

"What the fuck, Finn? You're so gross." Addie complained as she kicked her brother in the arm with her outstretched leg. His annoying laughter being cut off when you finally made your way to the group, sitting down on the grass in the free spot beside Harry.

Not at all missing the glare you were receiving from Elena and the rest of them looking at you with those annoying shit-eating grins.

"What was that about?" Lex asked as you handed him a flyer. Everyone in the group who was sitting up inching their way towards Lex to read the piece of paper.

"Omega Chi is having a glow party this weekend!" You said excitedly as everyone ohh and awed at the news.

"Fuck yes." Finn cheered as he ripped the paper out of Lex's hands.

"Wot's a glow party?" Harry asked, sitting up, his arm slightly brushing yours as he reached for the flyer in Finn's hand.

The sparks erupting in you even from the slightest touch from him. Making you bite your lip. Really, it was so stupid. You had no idea why the hell you were this attracted to him.

"It's a black light party where you paint neon paint on each other." You said with a smile as he finally handed you back the paper you had been given.

You really had been trying your absolute hardest to keep him off your mind but with this party coming up, you couldn't help but wonder if that meant he'd be touching you again. Even something as simple as painting on you had your thighs clenching.

The sound of your name broke off the rest of the conversation. Your head swiveling around to see who was calling out for you.

You squealed, eyes wide, as you scrambled from your spot on the ground toward the person yelling and waving to you like a maniac. You ran full force, arms thrown around him as he spun you around in a hug.

Everyone in the group looked towards Harry, whose face had fallen slightly at your departure. A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he didn't even want to admit was there. He hated feeling like this for no reason.

You two had hardly even talked since that night. He really needed to put it out of his mind.

"Fuck, that hurts." Finn said, handing Harry his cigarette. Not even bitching about the fact someone else was stealing another cigarette from him.

"Nah," Harry lied as he took a hit from the cigarette before handing it back. "We're not together or anything. She doesn't do serious shit. Made it pretty well known too."

"We'll see about that." Rose hummed out, her eyes moving back towards you but Harry's stayed fixed on her. What the hell was she talking about?

His thoughts were quickly interrupted from wandering off too far when you pulled your new friend over to the group. His arm around your shoulder as he walked with you.

"Guys, this is Austin. He just transferred here from my hometown community college." You said with that bright smile on your face as you looked at him.

Harry hated to see you looking at anyone like that. Anyone besides him. Which was stupid because he was pretty sure you'd never look at him like that.

He hated the feeling, jealousy, that was burning up his esophagus from the pit of his stomach. He swallowed thickly, reminding himself that everything with you would have to be strictly physical.

"Yeah, we used to have a lot of fun back in the day." Your new buddy said, pulling you closer into him, making Harry thankfully he had sunglasses on to hide his eye roll. Fucking prick just had to rub it in.

"She was a great cheer captain. Even got us to nationals last year. Too bad we all got wasted the night before, right?" He asked with a laugh as you swatted his chest.

"Shut up, they don't know about the cheering." You grumbled, feeling your face heat as everyone looked at you.

"What?" Rose asked, perking up at the news that someone may possibly know you better than her.

"Yeah, I used to cheer."

"Hot damn. Go get your outfi-" Finn started but was quickly cut off by Addie kicking him on the shoulder… again.

"Yeah, this is why I didn't say anything." You said rolling your eyes but not missing the playful smirk forming across Harry's lips. Feeling your cheeks heating as you felt his eyes burn into you.

"Well, we were pretty great. I'll have to show you guys the videos. You know, from when we weren't hungover." Austin said with a smile, ruffling your hair with his hand before pulling away from you.

"Okay, gotta get my stuff together and into my new apartment. Just wanted to check out the campus." He said, making you pout up to him.

He had been one of your closest friends before you had met Rose. Of course, he was also a guy on a cheer squad in a small town, the guy could have used all the friends he could get his hands on back then. You were sure in a bigger more open-minded place he would really flourish.

"Oh my God!" You squealed, eyes widening when you caught a glimpse of another man walking towards you two. Throwing a slap on the now laughing Austin's shoulder.

"You didn't tell me you brought him!" You yelled as you ran past him, hugging yet another guy.

"Jesus, how many people does she fuck?" Elena scoffed.

Harry's head whipping around to her so fast you could hear his neck crack as he glared at her through his glasses.

"Damn, someone's bitter today." Finn commented as everyone else stared at the now slightly blushing Elena.

"What the fuck?" Rose asked quietly to her as you walked back up to the group.

"Guys, this is Akiro." You said as you pulled the other guy up to the group. "This is Austin's boyfriend."

Harry had never heard sweeter words in his whole life. Letting go of a breath he didn't even know he was holding in, making Finn laugh silently from beside him.

"They're high school sweethearts. Wish we didn't grow up in a shit town. You guys could have been Homecoming king and king." You gushed, pushing them together.

"Yeah, the gay linebacker and the gay cheerleader. A romance novel in the making." Akiro joked, his arm going around Austin's shoulder.

"Well, we got to get going. It was good seeing you again, babydoll. We'll catch up before this one leaves town. He's just here helping me unpack." You nodded your head, hugging them both before they turned to leave.

"Damn, they make a hot couple." Rose said, Addie agreeing with her as you sat down back in your spot.

"Yeah, they were adorable in high school. The only problem was they were the only out couple so they got a lot of shit." You sighed, leaning back to rest on your elbows.

Your eyes closing as you soaked up the sun. Only opening them slightly when Harry mimicked your position.

"Still got that cheer outfit?" He whispered in your ear as the group carried on another conversation.

Your cheeks immediately heating when you turned to look at him. The smug smile on his face and playfulness dancing in his now uncovered eyes.

"Maybe I do. Maybe I don't." You said, smiling at his eye roll.

"Maybe I'll find out. Yeh?"

"Possibly. What's in it for me?" You asked, genuinely interested know what you'd get if you pulled that old thing out of your closet.

Well, what you'd get minus a mind-blowing orgasm.

"I'll pretend y'haven't been avoidin' me all week. Blushin' every time y'walk out 'f the room 'M in." He smiled, that annoying dimple popping out as your eyes widened.

"Whatever. I do not." You lied, trying your best to ignore your cheeks heating yet again at the fact he noticed you being so weird with him.

You just couldn't help it. You were so into him with knowing so little about him. You were afraid if you got to know him better you'd catch feelings.

"Sure, y'don't, love. Careful, someone might think y'got a crush on me or sumthin'." He said smiling widely as he laid back flatly on the ground. Your eyes widened as you looked at him so content with himself.

Did you have a crush on him? You didn't think so but at the same time, you couldn't deny the fact you were drawn to him like a magnet, couldn't get your mind off how he touched you. How you wanted him to touch you again.

You swallowed the thought down. Knowing you were playing with fire. You didn't do relationships for a reason. You didn't do getting close to people for a reason and you'd be damned is some pretty boy with nice eyes and a great smile made you forget what it felt like to be the one with your heart ripped out and torn into pieces.

#Harry Styles #Harry #Harry Styles x Reader #Harry Styles x You #Harry Styles x Y/N #Harry Styles Fanfic #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Writing #Mine #Trouble

[secretobsessionstuff]

Hey Max, can I request a group party (christmas or Thanksgiving or similar) and they're all having fun, except they all get food poisoning from the pie? You can pick whoever you want there, I just want the group! (And maybe some Kota/bee...) 😏 Please?

This was a fun challenge to write! I hope it’s good :) 

----------------------

It was a miracle that everyone was home for the holidays. Normally Madix brought Riley to his family’s house for thanksgiving, but those plans changed when Dakota and Blair were actually staying in the city instead of going to see Blair’s family. As you can imagine, the four of them took advantage of the opportunity.

Since Riley was doing most of the cooking, they planned to have dinner at his and Madix’s place. Like most thanksgiving, everyone was eager to start eating, so by around 4 o’clock they had already begun digging into the classic thanksgiving dishes. There was turkey, mashes potatoes, stuffing, and a creamy peach pie. Riley was most proud of the pie because it was a super simple recipe that required no baking, and it was topped with freshly cut peaches.

Making the entire meal was a challenge even with Madix helping him because the kitchen was so tiny. The space got squishy and dirty fast. The counters were piled high with dirty cutting boards and utensils. The mess was thankfully worth it when everybody said that the meal was delicious. Riley didn’t say this out loud, but he felt like a proper adult for cooking his own thanksgiving dinner. As for the experimental pie, he was definitely going to save the recipe because everybody loved it – well everybody but Dakota who didn’t like peaches. That was fine; more for the rest of them.

When the meal was finished and everybody’s stomachs were stuffed like a turkey, Madix collected all the dishes and piled them in the kitchen. He sighed, seeing that once again the kitchen was a disaster. He started to put all the leftovers in containers before anything would go bad when Riley came up behind him and gave him a hug.

“I’m so glad we got to do this,” he mumbled into Madix’s back. “I hope I did the meal justice.”  

Madix turned around and wrapped his arms around Riley. “Are you kidding? I think I prefer this to my family’s thanksgivings.”

“Really?”

“Definitely,” Madix said as he continued to clean up the kitchen. “Plus, there’s less drama.” He smiled while throwing away all the scraps of food.

Riley beamed and practically skipped away. Before he went to rejoin Dakota and Blair, he turned back to Madix and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “This is your family’s thanksgiving.”

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, the four of them spent the time sitting outside in the brisk fall air. Blair sat in Dakota’s lap, saying it was to keep warm, but Madix guessed they just wanted to be touching. He couldn’t blame them, having scooted his own chair closer to Riley so they could hold hands under the table. It was thanksgiving after all and what better way to remind yourself of your blessings than to held them in your arms. Dakota was doing literally just that.

“It’s too bad Alexi and Micah couldn’t make it,” Dakota said while he leaned back and sniffed the smoke-filled air. Someone was having a campfire and it made him want to have smores.

Riley nodded, “Micah said they had this trip planned for ages.”

“We should do that sometime,” Dakota said as Blair fidgeted on top of him. He winced when her elbows dug into his chest. She really couldn’t sit still. “Go on a trip, I mean. The four of us.”

“Where?” Madix asked but immediately started to zone out again.

“Blair’s always wanted to go to Australia.” Dakota said, hopping to get his girlfriend more involved in the conversation, but she just sat there silently.

Her head was curled up by his neck with her eyes occasionally closed. He kept watching her while he spoke, but she never pipped up. In fact, Dakota felt like he was carrying the whole conversation by himself. Madix and Riley also looked sleepy and distracted. Eventually, he stopped talking and they sat in peaceful silence. Dakota thought it was peaceful anyway.

Blair started to shift around uncomfortably again. She moaned and buried her face in Dakota’s sweater. Dakota was going to ask her to get off because his legs were falling asleep and his body couldn’t take another attack, but then he heard her belly gurgle. It didn’t sound very pleasant to Dakota, not like hunger. Besides, Blair was tiny. There was no way she was hungry again.

He bounced his knee once, just to get her attention, but that made her moan again and warp her arms around her body as if she were cold. “You feeling okay, bee?” he whispered.

Blair shook her head. “…my stomach’s upset,” she mumbled back.

Madix looked to his friend, seeing that they were talking quietly to each other. “You guys okay over there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dakota stammered while helping Blair off his lap. They both stood up, Dakota grabbing her waist as they walked away from the table. “We’ll just be a minute.”

“Everything alright?” Riley asked weakly.

“Yes,” Dakota lied. He knew Riley didn’t like when people were sick, so he decided to keep this to himself. Judging by the greyish tint to Blair’s face, she looked exactly like someone Riley would want to stay away from. Obviously, Dakota didn’t notice the greyish tint to all their faces.

As soon as Dakota and Blair went inside the house, Madix stood up from his chair. He exhaled heavily while rubbing his stomach. Being upright had the immediate effect of causing a burp to rumble up from his chest. A long sigh came next, unfortunately the relief he felt was short-lived.

Madix paced around the patio furniture, hoping that movement would help with the nausea. He hadn’t wanted to say anything with everyone there, but his stomach was roiling. When he looked own, his hands were shaking from the intense queasiness. For some reason, dinner was just not sitting well, and he realized that vomiting was a very real possibility at this point. Maybe he had eaten too much or perhaps he was just sick. Either way he had to tell Riley.

He stopped pacing because that wasn’t helping, and leaned against the back of a chair. He breathed out slowly, trying to get his nausea under control. “Ry…” His voice was shaky. “I have to tell you something.”

To Madix’s surprise, Riley answered by spreading apart his legs and vomiting on the spot. A huge gush of brownish sick splattered between his feet just as another retch tore up his throat.

Madix held back a gag and somehow swallowed his nausea enough to go to Riley. While breathing through his nose, he rubbed his boyfriend’s back through another round of heaving. “Oh love, I know, I know.”

“Ugh,” Riley groaned with his head between his knees. “I don’t –” He tired to speak but he kept gagging.

“Don’t speak yet. Just get it all up first,” Madix said while tracing circles onto his back. He couldn’t watch though. He had to look away as torrents of barely digested food fell out of Riley’s mouth. But averting his gaze wasn’t enough. He could still feel the muscles in Riley’s back spasm whenever his shoulders rolled forward. And the smell was too much to handle for his own sour stomach. Madix leaned away and gagged into his elbow.

When Riley came up for air, he heard Madix gagging behind him and felt awful. Madix wasn’t usually a sympathetic puker, so this made him feel like crap. “I’m sorry. I’m being so gross.”

“It’s okay. It’s – hic – not our fault,” Madix said in between retches. He had neither the energy nor the desire to reconsider that sentence. He didn’t have the will power to keep comforting Riley anymore either because his stomach decided time was up. He walked away from his boyfriend as his own belly sent up his dinner. He pitched forward and covered the grass with a thick brown gush.

“Madix!” Riley called out. He somehow found the motivation to stand up, and step around the puddle of sick at his feet. It was always easier for him to deal with people throwing up if he was also sick. He wasn’t entirely sure why, but at least it allowed him to go to Madix. “Oh gosh, okay.”

Madix seemed like a running faucet that simply never found peace. He could hardly catch his breath in between waves and each heave sounded like it was destroying his throat. Riley patted his back, growing increasingly worse about the whole situation. This was bad. Madix was really sick. This wasn’t just from sympathy.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Riley said once Madix stopped actively being sick. There were two puddles of vomit, two very nauseous people, and only one logical explanation. “It’s the food, it has to be.”

“Most likely,” Madix agreed while spitting on the grass. “Please don’t blame yourself though.”

“How can I not? I poisoned us all!”

“You don’t know that. It could have been handled wrong.”  

“I guess,” Riley admitted while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Dammit,” Madix mumbled as he walked back into the house, “I’m going to go check on Dakota and Blair.” As he left, Madix heard Riley curse under his breath.

It was fairly obvious what Madix was going to find in the house. He didn’t even waste time and went straight to the bathroom. As he expected, the door was closed and the light was on. He knocked lightly.

Dakota and Blair’s night had gone quite similarly, with one major difference.

Blair was curled up around the toilet, puking her guts up while Dakota held her hair back. It wasn’t long after sneaking away from Madix and Riley, that Blair found herself on the bathroom floor. She had told Dakota that she felt like she was going to be sick, and they were locked in the bathroom ever since.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Dakota cooed while kissing her shoulder.

Blair wiped her mouth and leaned back against the bathtub. “I don’t know what happened.”

Dakota touch the back of his hand to her forehead and frowned. “You don’t feel warm.”

Later, a light knock came at the door once Blair was done being sick for the fourth time in a row. They both looked at each other, knowing that they’d been gone far too long.

Blair sighed. “I ruined the night.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Dakota assured her as he stood up from the floor to open the door. “They’ll understand.”

Dakota opened the door just enough to let himself out, and he shut it again to give Blair privacy. He joined Madix in the hallway and leaned against the wall. Madix looked concerned, and kinda awful, Dakota thought.

Madix’s expression twisted to confusion when Dakota came out looking pretty normal actually. “Are you guys okay?”

“Not really,” Dakota admitted. “Blair must have caught something because she’s throwing up.”

Dakota didn’t understand his friend’s reaction. Madix nodded like he was expecting that answer.

“And how about you? Are you feeling okay?” Madix asked.

“Yes?” Dakota answered hesitantly. He wasn’t sure what Madix was getting at, but then he noticed the way he was hugging his stomach. “Are you?”  

“No.” He shook his head. “Riley and I also threw up. I’m surprised you’re not sick.”

Everything made a lot more sense to Dakota now. And then it immediately didn’t. Madix was right. Why wasn’t he sick? They all ate the same dinner. He should be just as miserable as Blair right now, but he wasn’t for some reason.

As both boys wandered into the kitchen that reason became apparent. They all ate the same dinner, but not the same dessert. The half-eaten pie was still on the counter, with its freshly cut peaches adorning the top. “Did Riley make this today?” Dakota asked, gesturing to the dessert.

Understanding was already beginning to show in Madix’s bloodshot eyes. “Yes.”

“At the same time that he prepared the frozen turkey?”

“Yes.”

“Did he use the same cutting board?”

Madix hesitated before answering…probably for dramatic effect… “Yes.”

Dakota felt like a detective, then he very quickly felt like a nurse. Madix’s face was growing pale again. “How many bathrooms are in this house again?”

Madix looked sicker just thinking about it. “Two.”

Impending sarcasm tainted Dakota’s smile. “Well, this is going to be a fun night.”

#emeto #emetophilia #food poisoning #sickfic #group sick #Madix #Riley #Dakota #Blair #vomiting #puking

[gottlem]

summer fl(in)g. part 2 (gigi x crystal)

summary: after lockdown, Gigi and Crystal find it hard to keep their chemistry in person. Will they ever figure out how to get it back? (3.6k)

The first time Gigi and Crystal see each other in person after lockdown is with Jan and Jackie. Jan had insisted in their little group chat that they all meet up as soon as possible, and it just so happened that everyone was already free - having been unable to make any plans due to complete uncertainty of the future. But that’s in the past now. It was finally time to go and see friends, hug them, appreciate the things they had taken so easily for granted. Like how full the park was - before the lockdown, the four would have bitched about the excitable children and ignorant adults. But today was different. Today, sat in the same park they had been in many times before, felt like a turning point in everyone’s lives. They laid out a checkered blanket onto the grass (Gigi couldn’t risk the stains and Jackie didn’t like how the grass made her legs itch) and started their small, last minute picnic. 

The cool summer air enveloped them in a welcome hug - it was starting to become a little cooler, with the hottest part of summer being in the middle of lockdown. Of course they were disappointed in missing the heat, but they knew how necessary the lockdown had been (a/n STAY INSIDE) and couldn’t complain when they were finally outside and feeling the refreshing breeze on their exposed skin - it was (thankfully) still just warm enough for shorts and t shirts, giving the girls a quick taste of summer before the clothes would have to be swapped out for jeans and sweaters.  

Crystal loved how vibrant everything looked. She adored the way the grass was just so green, and the sky so blue. And Gigi was so Gigi. They sat next to each other, their bare legs ever so slightly brushing up every now and again, sending shivers down Crystal’s spine. She only hoped that Gigi was experiencing the same electricity. Crystal felt stuck, she was so scared of getting too close to the girl and scaring her away. She cared about what they had too much to risk it for the chance of something more. 

Everytime Crystal smiled, or laughed, Gigi would find herself absolutely captivated by the sound. It was intoxicating to her. What she loved more, was the fact that every time her ears picked the sound up, Gigi would find that she was the first (and only) thing Crystal would look at. It made her feel special. Like maybe what they had started during the lockdown wouldn't be wasted. Though, she could never describe it that way, even if nothing else came out of it all, the time couldn’t have been wasted when she found so much joy within the memories.

“Gigi. G. Gig. Genevieve. Babe” That last word was what took Gigi out of her thoughts. She was suddenly very aware of how close Crystal’s face was to hers. Turns out, she had completely zoned out and now all she could think about was how good Crystal smelled. She wondered why she hadn’t noticed before, but the realisation came crashing down onto her soon enough - she had never actually been this physically close to Crystal before. Though, it was difficult to believe, with how much they had bonded. All Gigi wanted was to stay like this forever. Stay close to Crystal forever.

But alas, Gigi had been taken out of her trance, which was Crystal’s cue to sit back, and return to stealing subtle stares at the girl. Gigi caught every single one, and returned it with double the intensity. That’s all they could do. Look. Admire. Appreciate from a distance, all the while longing for so much more. They could have a whole conversation with their eyes, but neither would admit it. Not to each other, not to themselves. Not yet, anyway.

The day out is filled with laughter until the sun starts to set and the girls start to get chilly. Crystal had brought an extra jacket (because of course she had) and gave it to Gigi, without trying to think about it too hard. Jan and Jackie had both spotted how the interaction had made both girls turn impossibly red, and giggled amongst themselves, instantly catching onto what was happening, and remembering when they were in the same boat a few months prior. They decided to let them figure it out themselves - it would be fun to watch unfold, and meddling would only complicate things. Though, even if they didn’t know the full story, it seemed to be pretty complicated already.

When Crystal returned to her apartment, her face stung a bit from the cold, Gigi having been given the warmer of her two jackets. And the only one with a hood she could have used to at least try to stop her ears from freezing. The warmth from her apartment was comforting as she made herself a hot chocolate and let herself relax after the day she’d had. She was exhausted from being around a group, a group that included Gigi, for so many hours, but she relished in the way it made her feel. She was content.

When Gigi returned to her apartment, she went straight to her bed and almost passed out. But before falling asleep, she let her thoughts wander to the green haired girl she felt so deeply towards. It had become her routine, her guilty little pleasure, to let herself imagine what could be if she just told her how she felt, what she wanted. But she didn’t want to lose what they had. What if she didn’t feel the same and suddenly felt too awkward to keep up the flirty banter? Or worse, what if she felt exactly the same and they started dating, only to lose that spark they had. She shook the thoughts out of her head - thinking like that wont do her any good. But then again, neither will imaginary scenarios filled with light touches and gentle kisses. It didn’t take her much longer to fall asleep fully, with Crystal’s hoodie hanging loose on her small frame and her perfume comforting her senses.

Two weeks passed after the lockdown was lifted, and the small group had met up countless times, trying desperately to make up for lost time. Gigi and Crystal stood next to each other, taking in each other's presence but barely talking. They were so scared to ruin what they have by speaking, they were just ruining it by avoiding each other. Everytime they returned back to their apartments, they would spend their time drowning in thoughts about the other, dreaming up the things they weren’t bold enough to do in real life. 

Crystal hated the silence. She had gotten so used to calling, so used to spending her waking hours on the phone with Gigi: chatting, laughing, flirting. She kept waiting to hear her phone to ring, or to get a text. She just wanted something. Something to show that what they had was still there. And as if Gigi could read her mind, despite being blocks away, she got a text.

goodemorning: hey. i’m gonna call u, if that’s ok?

Crystal could feel Gigi’s hesitation from the way she had typed out the message. Gigi was just as scared as she was.

CRYstal: ...when has it ever not been ok? ofc u can call b

The call was slow. And awkward. Their dialogue was stilted and it felt like they were walking on eggshells around each other, their new dynamic being achingly polarizing. They tried to idly chat about nothing, just like they would have three weeks ago, but to no avail. They both knew they were holding themselves, and each other, back.

“Ok, no, I can’t deal with this anymore,” Gigi took a breath before continuing. Crystal froze up. “Listen I’m just gonna say this; what are we? I mean, we talked so much on lockdown, like, so fucking much and then all the flirting started, I mean, you call me babe for fucks sake, so, what does it all mean? Because this isn’t how friends act, Crys, you know that, right? This isn’t how ‘just friends’ act around each other, you had to have known that. You had to! Cause God knows I do, far too well.”

Gigi hadn’t expected to sound so angry. She wasn’t angry. Or maybe she was? She couldn’t really tell anymore. All she knew now was she felt horrid watching the tears prick behind Crystal’s eyes at her words, and instantly wanted to go back in time.

“Hey, no, don’t be upset. Look at me, I’m not mad, ok? I’m not mad. I’m just confused. I just want to know what’s going on because it’s just too much right now, so please just, talk to me?”

Crystal took a breath. She had been waiting for this moment. Waiting for one of them to finally acknowledge that there was something more going on here. There was no going back now - so that's why Crystal asked:

“Why don’t we try a date? We could go grab some coffee or something. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work and we can go back to being just friends”

In reality, Crystal hated the idea of it not working. She would do anything to keep their relationship as is. The flirting, the electric touches, they kept her going. Made her feel wanted. Gigi agreed to the offer in an instant, letting out a breath she was holding and physically relaxing at the way the unspoken had finally been spoken.

But they were still both terrified.

Crystal was the first to arrive at the small cafe. It's a quaint little shop - quiet, not too empty nor too full. Perfect for a first date. In theory. In practise, the first date has more to do with the compatibility of those in attendance. This shouldn’t have been a problem for Crystal and Gigi, they could spend hours and hours talking to each other from the safety of their bedrooms. Apparently doing this in person is easier said than done.

Gigi walked in nervously and Crystal was overwhelmed the moment they locked eyes. Gigi joined her at the table she had taken up in the corner. They sat opposite each other. The tension could have been cut with a knife. Crystal sipped on her tea she had ordered not long before, and Gigi stood up slowly, announcing she’d get herself a drink.

When she sat back down, the conversation didn’t pick up as well as they had hoped. It didn’t really pick up at all. Suddenly they were reduced to simple small talk, as if they had never even met before. Crystal could feel Gigi’s knee touching hers under the table. It didn’t spend sparks flying through her body. She felt uncomfortable. She didn’t know what to say anymore, it was like the title of this being a ‘date’ had taken every word out of Crystal’s mouth. The thing was, she still felt so strongly to Gigi, she wanted more than anything to have that cliche moment of figuring out if a kiss goodbye on the first date was too much, of laughing at stupid jokes, of interlocking picky fingers until they’re bold enough to preoperly hold hands. She wanted that with Gigi. But she felt awkward, like their chemistry had vanished.

Gigi wasn’t any help either.  She would stare off, deep in thought. But it wasn’t like how she had stared before. No, before she would stare at Crystal with what might have been described at love in her eyes. Pupils wide, smiling contently. Now she looked right through Crystal, trying to come up with something good to say, but coming up just as empty as Crystal had. While the date wasn’t completely silent between them, it was undeniably awkward. Unlike any interaction they’d had before.

When Gigi finished her coffee, she left. Excused herself and apologised that the date hadn’t lived up to expectations. Neither knew who, or what to blame for it. Crystal didn’t leave straight after. She sat there for a while, ordering another tea and letting herself get lost in her thoughts. Just as she felt tears behind her eyes, Jan walked in. Despite the fact that she was still in the corner, feeling small as ever, the blonde spotted her instantly, her face falling when she saw Crystal’s glassy eyes. As soon as she had her latte in hand, she sat down by Crystal.

“What happened. Why are you alone? Did someone stand you up? Oh my god I’ll kill them. Do you want a hug?” 

Jan had never been the best at comforting upset friends, her constantly high energy often not matching the mood of the room. Crystal didn’t mind. They had all gotten used to it, and knew the myriad of questions she would ask came from love. Crystal let out a sad giggle at Jan’s energy despite the situation, and nodded to say, yeah, I do want a hug.

Jan always gave the best hugs. She held on tightly, giving a little squeeze every now and again, as if trying to either take her friend’s pain away, or pass on some of her own happiness. When Crystal started lightly crying onto her shoulder, Jan just hugged tighter and whispered to her that it would be ok, and that she wasn't going anywhere. She waited for Crystal to pull away first, and when she did, she wiped her tears with her thumb and gave her the softest look.

“I had a bad date”

Neither Crystal nor Gigi had mentioned their date to their other friends, but Jan wasn’t surprised when she started to tell the whole story of what happened. The two girls spent a couple hours in the corner of the coffee shop, Jan refusing to leave until Crystal was back to laughing and smiling again. She couldn’t do anything to help Crystal and Gigi sort themselves out, but she could be a shoulder to cry on. And sometimes, that's all you need.

When Gigi had left, the first thing she did was ring Jackie. She explained everything, from how much they had talked in lockdown, to the failed date. Gigi was confused. Jackie somehow wasn’t.

“Y’all are forcing it. You made this connection when we were all stuck inside, and now suddenly things are different. You’re trying to act like things aren’t. Of course it’s gonna be awkward. But if you stick to that stupid ‘stick to being just friends if the date fails’ agreement, I’m kicking both your asses”

Trust it to Jackie to make some sense of the situation. 

After the date, Gigi and Crystal were scared to talk to each other at all - flirting or not. This is what they were scared of, and yet neither were bold enough to make a move to get them out of it. A few weeks passed, and they had barely exchanged a few words. They would steal glances at each other during group outings, but the other never seems to notice, or at least not pay attention like they used to. Crystal remembered when Gigi would purposely brush her hand on her thigh when they were sitting next to each other.  Gigi remembered when Crystal would wink when she caught her staring. They didn’t do that anymore.

The last week of summer had the four friends buzzing with excitement - Pride was finally happening! It was supposed to happen much earlier, but couldn’t go ahead due to the lockdown. Everyone was beyond pleased when they found out Pride had only been postponed and not cancelled, and would be taking place at the end of Summer instead. Jan, Jackie, Gigi, and Crystal didn’t even have to ask for them to go together - they had been going as a group every year since they had come out to each other. Over the years, they started to get more and more excited for the event.

It was surprisingly warm despite the time of year, but it allowed the group to enjoy the sun. The energy of pride was hardly ever dampened, but it was often a bit more difficult to have as much fun when it rained, or if it was a little too cloudy. That, thankfully, wasn’t the case this year. The four met up an hour before the parade, just as they did every year. Gigi and Crystal were scared of ruining each other's fun, worrying that their presence would make the other feel awkward. But somehow, the atmosphere surrounding them threw that possibility out the window as soon as they locked eyes. Each girl had dawned rainbow colours, and Gigi had done the most beautiful pride-inspired makeup. Crystal was in awe.

As the morning passed, the group had visited every stall, collecting an array of freebies. Each girl had an arm filled with multi coloured wristbands and were starting to warm up to the day ahead. Gigi and Crystal stood next to each other, brushing their arms up close and smiling intimately at each other. Now when Gigi stared, Crystal stared right back, winking in the exact same way she had before. Somehow it wound Gigi up more than she was used to. By noon, the pair were joined at the hip, hands intertwined like their lives depended on it. Conversations flowed naturally, and Gigi was back to hearing the laugh she had grown to love over the past few months.

In the early afternoon, Jan and Jackie left to ‘get some food’ while Gigi and Crystal stayed on the huge field, periodically getting themselves another drink. In their tipsy state, the girls couldn’t help but giggle at their friends' departure, knowing fully well they didn’t leave to get something to eat (well, food at least). Neither girl was accustomed to drinking during the day, but pride was an annual exception, so they allowed themselves to get a bit tipsy - it was pride after all. Barely anyone was 100% sober, and if they were, it was usually because they weren’t old enough to buy any alcohol.

Later on in the day, they found a small tent, music blasting from speakers inside it and filled with people dancing like nobody was there. Crystal pulled Gigi in, giving her no other option but to dance with her. They stayed in the tent for an hour or so, bodies getting dangerously close as the time progressed, but neither girl was complaining. It was as if they were daring each other to come closer and closer.

They left the tent when the main stage started to gather a bigger audience, opting to join everyone else on the open field. Their hands stayed intertwined as they danced and sang along to the live music , the buzzing atmosphere egging them on to stay impossibly close. Crystal found herself looking at Gigi more than she did at the stage, feeling hypnotised by the way she smiled. It was a smile she Gigi wasn’t even thinking about - she was truly happy, enjoying herself by Crystal’s side. Crystal smiled just as wide and just as truthfully. 

The pair decided to move to the back of the crowd when Gigi started complaining that her feet hurt. While it was the truth, it was really just an excuse to sit down with Crystal, who put her head in her lap the second she sat down. Gigi found herself not caring about the grass stains this time. The sun had started to set, and cast a dreamy golden light on the pair as they began to sober up and take a moment to relax with each other after the crazy day.

They fell back into their rhythm quickly, with Crystal’s head in Gigi’s lap and Gigi playing with her green hair. They were both so comfortable. So content. Happy. This is what they wanted, this is what they had expected for their date. However, Gigi had spent the whole day getting progressively closer to the other girl, and she was starting to get sick of coming to what seemed like a dead end. She decided it was time for that to change.

“You know Crys… I remember you promising to give me something when the lockdown finished, remember what it as?”

~

“When this is over, I’ll kiss you, don’t even worry about it” Crystal was only half joking. GIgi went red, but tried to act as if the thought of Crystal kissing her didn’t phase her at all.

“Oh will you now?”

“I’m not kidding”

“Well. I’d very much like that Miss Methyd”

~

She didn’t quite remember at first, but it didn’t take her long to understand exactly what Gigi wanted. 

“Well, I’d hate to not stick to my word”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

Crystal answered that question by bringing her face up to Gigi’s and planting a firm kiss on her lips. From the start it was certain, and wanting. They stayed like that for a while, letting the sounds of the music grow smaller until the only thing that existed was their touching lips and hands in each other's hair (well, Crystal's hair, Gigi had kept hers shaved after Crystal kept saying that she thought it was hot). When they pulled away, they didn’t say anything. Crystal rested her head back into Gigi’s lap and smiled up at her. Gigi smiled back.

Jan and Jackie joined the pair not long after, as if they had been watching and waiting for something to finally happen between them before they interrupted. And maybe they had been. But none of them seemed to care.

That night, Crystal went home with Gigi. They made up for lost time, taking in each other's presence and the way their bodies worked together as if they were made to fit, and they never let go of eachother until morning.

#here it is y'all #finally finished #pls tell me if u like it !!! #and if u want more content from me !!!! #give me prompts n stuff :))) #gigi goode #crystal methyd #jan #jan sport #jackie cox #side jan x jackie #gigi x crystal #lesbian au #drag race #rpdr #rpdr12 #i love the season 12 girls

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 13

Waking up late was so not the plan for today.

What was supposed to be a nice lovely day is slowly turning into your personal hell. Racing around the kitchen trying to keep an eye on your potatoes as you cut up the other veggies for the pie. So you can shove it into the oven then get ready.

Christ why hadn't you thought to prep your ingredients earlier?

Thankfully the cobbler was super simple tossing the sugar and flour into the bowl followed by the a cup of lemonade. Perfect cobbler base. After the batter was creamy you threw in the freshly washed blackberries. They bled a deep red into the batter around them. You had high hopes as you topped it with butter and threw it into the oven.

Both dishes had very quick bake times so you weren't too worried or stressed about them taking forever. In all honesty the only reason you were frantically running around your kitchen was prepping the inside of the forager's pie. And giving the mashed potatoes an essence of rosemary and garlic as if you were a chef on par with Gordon Ramsey.

Should you do dishes?

No, there's no time to worry about that.

Soon the cobbler is out of the oven and you have replaced it with the two pans of forager's pie. You don't give the cobbler any time to cool as you place the aluminum lid to the pan so the heat stays.

With that taken care of you speed off to your room and grab your outfit. The mini pencil skirt you'd purchased yesterday paired with some shorts so you didn't have to be careful with your movements all day. A plain block colored shirt in a cute primary palette. Finishing with yellow converses.

Changing doesn't take long but you do take some extra time on your hair choosing to style it a bit different today. As you're debating on if you should put the time into a fun makeup look your neck snaps harshly to the right.

There is no crack but it did hurt like hell.

As if that had been a sign from God you opt for your normal look. There will be other events and times for you to do fun looks, but not today.

The oven beeps as the timer goes off letting you know the pies are ready. Just a sprinkle of cheese on top before you cover them with the lid and you are all set to go.

Checking the time you see it's nine-o-two, and while the picnic was scheduled for ten thirty you are a committee member and should be there early to help set up. So without anymore hesitation you are flying out of the house and into your car.

You rush back from placing the food in the backseat to make sure your door is locked.

It is and you are free to enjoy the day...you hope.

Speeding would be the biggest understatement of the year. You were practically at the lodge in fifteen minutes and bustling up to the door. Opening it you rush in ignoring anyone you pass by in your mad dash to the kitchen.

“Hello to you too.” Barclays voice carries from the stove as you whisk past him to place two of your pans on the counter.

“Hi, Tim?” you say out of breath from your one person marathon. Practically vibrating in place unwilling to loose your momentum despite your need for a second wind.

Barclay just points to the den and you're out of the kitchen just as fast as you had entered. Most patrons in the den don't spare you a second glance used to your whirlwind mannerisms when your trying to follow a deadline. As self appointed as it may be.

There is one trio however giving you a mix of concerned and amused looks. Which quickly turn into concerned and interest when you make a bee line straight for them.

“Hi,” you say to Toby and Brian before looking at Tim and pushing the cobbler at him, “Thanks again  for last night.”

Tim can't even get a word out because as soon as he grabs the pan you're already back off to the kitchen. Determined to help Barclay with something before everyone starts moving to the Archway. You hear the chorus of chuckles coming from everyone as you leave a confused Tim, who now has to answer to the questioning glances of his friends, in your wake.

Barclay needed no help as you guessed but he was however open to you covering the food and stacking certain items together before helping to load everything into crates for easier transport. It wasn't long before the others start to make their way into the kitchen to get briefed on the plan.

You notice the trio being motioned in by Jake who holds the door open for them to make their way in too. Brian politely takes the door from Jake as Tim steps in place in front of him and Toby. The jerky movements of Toby's eyes as he scans the room is really hard to ignore. But it doesn't seem like he's looking for anything just taking note of who is in the kitchen and where they are.

“Ok, first thank you all for helping set up the picnic today. I really appreciate it.” Barclay's baritone voice says jostling you out of your thoughts to focus in on him.

“Second, we really don't have much to do for set up since most guests already have their baskets with them. We do have a few spares to lay down though. We'll be splitting off into three teams.” Barclay then points at you, Hollis, Jake, and Kirby.

“Team A is in charge of setting up the spare baskets.”

After getting your group's approval he continues down the line.

Team B consists of Brian, Tim, Toby, and Indrid. Their group is to bring out and set the tables that'll hold the food. Team C is Barclay, Aubrey, Dani, and Madeline. Team C will bring the main courses along with the heaters to keep everything warm.

With teams set and in place you all take to your positions and get a move on before the public arrives. You vaguely wonder why the Hornets aren't here yet but remember most had decorated and cleared out the Archway over the past couple of days. Pushing the thoughts away you grab two baskets and follow after your team. Thankfully there were only a few left over baskets, eight if you include Jake and Hollis' and then your own. Each member of your team carried two baskets through the thicket of trees until you reached the clearing of the archway.

It looked amazing, you'd only been out here one other time back when Bambi was still around. She took you out at night and the two of you just talked about anything and everything, including theories about the giant archway that towered over the clearing and just how it may have come to be.  Back then it had been a field of long grass and purple wildflowers. The grass was so thick the two of you used sticks to move it and insure there'd be no snakes harmed in your late night hike. Now though the grass had been cut save for aesthetically calculated patches of wildflowers and clovers here and there. The field was absolutely perfect for the event, and with the gorgeous blue skies partially clouded the scenery really seemed to pop out.

Especially the small lake glittering just past the archway. You'd never noticed it before but then again you came here in the dead of night.

Getting back to work you set out on placing the spare baskets a reasonable distance from the others. Close enough  to other blankets to feel included but far enough away to have their own space if that was their thing. When you had finished you take your own basket and join Hollis and Jake who finished placing their four baskets down faster with two people. They'd been setting up their own blanket on the outer rim of the perimeter, closer to the treeline than to the Archway. As if they were going to overlook the even and keep an eye out. Which they probably would be, just to ensure that everyone had fun and stayed safe.

Seeing you standing just a few feet away from the blanket Jake gives you his patented superstar smile.

“C'mon, join the party YN.”

With the easy going invitation you fix your blanket beside theirs. This way at one point or another you'd see a majority of your friends today as you knew for a fact they'd come over or be dragged over into seeing the couple beside you.

Kirby joins you three after lazily placing his baskets side by side closer to the archway. With the hustle and fuss of your prep work being done you can take a moment to take everything in.

“I love the shirt.” you say looking at Kirby's 'I'm not Allo but 20$ is 20$' shirt.

He gives a grin before presenting a folded up shirt out of his messenger bag.

“Thought you might...don't wear it now though. Don't want you copying my style, that'd be sad.” he jokes.

“Pfft, please everyone would know it's you who copied me.”

Jake and Hollis watch as the two of you continue your playful banter. Occasionally voicing whose side they were on, Hollis took Kirby's while Jake took yours. It was a fun way to pass the time as the other groups finished setting up.

Especially since you had Mr. Cool Guy himself on your side. How could you possibly not be the trend setter sibling with his vote.

Before long the other groups were also setting up their own baskets, which had been brought out by Barclay and Indrid a few hours earlier. And some Hornets started showing up not too long after that. Either rushing around trying to set up their baskets or sit down with friends after placing their food away. Though the event hadn't really started yet you could hear Aubrey starting up her music a few blankets away. She'd already gathered a small crowd that was chittering away.

Taking it all in you notice a certain trio looking incredibly awkward and out of place. You get up and make your way over to the men ready to invite them to sit with you. After all it's an eight person blanket it'd be a shame to sit all by yourself next to another full blanket.

Toby's dark eyes lock on to you first, you really suspect this boy has ADHD with his quick reflexes and spacial hyper awareness. He actually seems to deflate a bit, like the tension in his shoulders started to disappear the closer you got. You apparently weren't the only one to notice the subtle change in the brunette as Tim focused in on Toby. Meanwhile Brian clocked you just before you were within ten feet of their little group.

“Hey I have an empty blanket if you guys wanted to join.”

Just getting straight to the point was your thing. Most see your bluntness as rudeness but you just don't see a point in dancing around your message.

“Yea, that'd be nice.” Toby spoke before the other two could.

Smiling at him you hold a hand out for him to grab. You aren't really sure what possessed you to do that, but figure you must be in a rare tactile mood. Unlike when you're touched if you initiate the contact it doesn't hurt or squick you out. He grabs your hand and you can feel the scratch of his callouses. You remember Hollis said something about him being a mechanic, that would explain the tough hands.

You lead the trio over to your blanket where only Kirby sits, seems like didn't bring his basket and was going to share with you. Not that you mind at all, in fact this was the perfect time to introduce one friend to another.

“Kirby time to make a good impression.” you call out gaining his attention.

He takes a moment before taking note of the group you're guiding over. Kirby stands up to greet you all.

“Kirby this is my friend Tobias, and his roommates Tim and Brian.” you motion to the other two with your unoccupied hand.

Noticing for the first time that they have their hands interlocked. Not holding like you and Toby are but a more intimate hand hold.

'These bitches gay...good for them. Good for them.' is just playing on repeat as background noise in your head. Ignoring the loop in your brain you continue the introduction.

“This is Kirby, my brother or whatever.” Kirby snorts at your short introduction.

“I'll take it, 's a step up from gremlin.” he turns to the trio hand extended, “Nice to meet you guys.”

After the weird neurotypical ritual is over the five of you sit down and talk while you wait for the festivities to begin. Tim and Kirby dragging Brian along for the deep dive of god awful horror movies.

“You didn't mention a brother.” Toby says fiddling with your hand, someone really needs to get this guy a fidget toy.

“Huh? Oh no. No, not like that Kirby's more like a brother than my biological brother.” you pause while thinking how to explain this more articulately.

“We're just really similar and people thought we were dating, I guess, before we started calling each other 'sibling'.” it's really weird that that was even an issue. At least to you but Allos tend to be weird about mixed gender relationships.

For instance Brian and Tim can get written off as the best of best friends. But you and Kirby decide to sit next to each other for one Saturday Night Dead and the town is already waiting for wedding invites. Maybe this is a small town thing...you'll still blame the Allos.

Toby nods along, whether he actually understands or is trying to move from the topic you can't quite tell. You look down at his hand that's bending your fingers into your palm. His nail beds look better than last week you hope it means he wasn't picking at his skin. It's really not a great coping mechanism.

You let out a small sigh as you get lost in the feeling of Toby playing with your fingers. You're trying to think of something to talk about but the motions are kind of drowning out your thoughts. You can see why this might've been helpful the for Toby last week in the forest.

“...We're friends?” you aren't really sure if that was a question or a statement.

“Yea! Well at least I'd like to be. It's fine if you don't want to though.”

Toby gives a small smile to that, and releases your hand. It seems his anxiety has gone away for the most part. Maybe having the reassurance of another friend is all he needed. Just a little more moral support to get him out of his shell.

You smile back at him as he leans back on his hands. It's nice that you both can enjoy the day without your masks, even if you do feel a bit naked without yours. You wonder how Toby's been holding up wearing only the bandage over his scar. But you know you probably aren't at the friendship level needed to question him about it. No matter how nonchalant he'd been about eating in front of you that first day.

“How're the repairs coming?”

Toby rolls his eyes and lets out a frustrated groan, and for a moment you're concerned you upset him.

“It's a fah-fah-cuck...king rust bucket. Like Jesus fucking Christ first the AC blows out so I check the compressor...” he pauses and squints his eyes at you, “do you know cars?”

“Dad's a mechanic so I know enough. But you're talking about an RV unit and not a regular cabin AC might get a little lost but I can at least lend an ear. Like a rubber duck.”

The right side of Toby's mouth pulls a confused sneer, but his attention is soon turned to Brian who's chuckling having heard what you said.

“'s a coding thing Toby.”

“Uh...okay?” Toby just resigns himself to not understanding this particular topic and continues on.

“Yea so sorta the same basis, I guess. The units still pull air from outside into the vents and use a refrigerant liquid to cool the air it pushes out.” he pauses to make sure you're still following.

After you nod he continues to explain how it runs so the fans and circuits seem to be in order. There isn't a leak in the coils and the liquid's been replenished but it still isn't running cold. You nod while giving him a patient smile as you let him tear through his rant about the “piece of shit unit” because it seems this has been building in him for the past few days.  When he comes to the end of his rant the only thing you can really think to say is.

“That sounds rough.”

Not the most eloquent thing but Toby seems to come down from his vent high, after a few deep breaths.

“Yea it mrrow was. Well is.” he cuts his eyes back to the trio across from you noticing how they all seem invested in their own conversation now.

“Why'd you give Tim a cobbler?” looks like you two will be playing twenty questions today.

“He scared off the creep for me last night.” you shrug causing your neck to jerk to the side.

“'the' creep? Wait! The one that drugged you?” Toby is so lucky he can't feel pain because even you felt that crack that ripped through his neck as he whipped his head towards you.

And honestly you're kinda surprised it didn't draw anyone's attention to you two.

“First I don't think I was drugged, he might've just sent me into a panic attack.”

“Oh sorry the creep that sent you into a panic attack.” you really hate when people interrupt you like that he's really lucky you understand he's actually just paying attention to you rather than talking over you. You'd punch him if it wasn't the case. Punch him right in his cute snarky face.

“Bitch.” You do punch him, in his arm, he lets out a monotone 'ow'. You decide against punching him again for that, it was a hard choice though.

“Anyway, second yea same one. I just really don't like the guy and last night he'd been bothering Ronnie when I stopped by the gas station. She'd apparently forgotten Tim had gone on break and when I tried bluffing that he was there well...”

You took some time to explain the situation last night to Toby. Leaving out the parts where Not Tim showed up. After thinking on that you figure there was a possibility of Tim having an alter that he may or may not know about. And you aren't sure what the etiquette is for this sort of thing, like if Tim did know were you suppose to let him tell you or should you let him know you'd technically met his alter. Judging from Toby's face, the guy really wears his heart on his sleeve, he seems confused about something.

Maybe Tim  didn't remember last night and Toby was asking for him. That does put a bit more weight on your alter theory. And it seems to have more traction as something seems to click in Toby's head. He doesn't share whatever is making him nod. So you leave it be.

Before you know it an hour has past the field nearly full of town residents and Barclay, with his mighty megaphone, start calling people over for food so you all grab a plate from the basket.

“I want purple.” Kirby tells you.

“I could literally hand you any of these and you'd tell me 'thanks'.”

“That's pretty fucking ablest YN.”

You pause and look at the other three on the blanket.

“Is being colorblind a disability?”

A “Yes” from Brian followed by Tim and Toby's deadpan expressions and “No”s.

“Three against two, not ablest just honest...this is purple.” you had half a mind to hand him indigo.

Your group goes and gets food, debating the legitimacy of colorblindness being a disability, before heading back to your blanket. No sooner had you sat down are you body slammed into the ground. The familiar weight of an overexcited eleven year old smothering you.

“Hi can I sit with you?” before you can reply the rest of the Cowell family finds their way over.

“Josephine Cowell, I'm so sorry YN she's just been so excited all weekend. Josephine get off of YN you know they aren't very tactile.” Dia called.

Unlike her husband's hulking form Dia was a petite frail woman, you honestly wouldn't be surprised if Jo towered over her mother in a few years. And though she was small she had a fierceness to her that normally kept both the Jos in line.

“It's not a problem Dia. Jo I think you should eat with your parents first, we have all day to hang out.” Her eyes seem to sparkle with excitement and you can see her mother's apologetic expression just past her.

Understandably Dia is concerned with Jo taking up your personal time. The young girl sees you as an older sibling and wants to spend any second she can with you, but you aren't family. You're a young adult who has their own life to live. The last thing you need is to be babysitting the tween while you tried to relax with your friends today. Dia would do her best to have Jo give you some space.

“Hey you guys can just drop your blanket over here, we don't mind.” Janette, local mean lesbian, calls from Hollis and Jake's blanket.

Jo looks ecstatic at the thought and rushes to her father to pull him over to the area so they can place the blanket down. Booping her nose occasionally in her excitement.

“Hey Dia, Marnie's coming in an hour or so, soccer game got rescheduled. Jo will have someone her age to bug.”

“Marnie's coming?” leave it to a tween to finish setting up and get a plate of food all in under five minutes.

She's not even trying to be on her family's blanket as she plops down next to you. Taking notice of you staring she gives a wide grin practically buzzing with excitement. A bit too much excitement as she starts rapidly blinking, triggering your own as well. At least you have practice eating like this, unlike Jo who only just developed this tic.

After your tics subside Jo eats with you and just goes on into her usual tween drama stories. She's got to keep you up to date after all. It's like a soap opera just less adult topics and no evil clones. Kirby and Nate catch up and somehow rope Tim and Brian into their conversation as well. Toby just sits quietly eating and giving you amused looks every time you lock eyes.

You can't help but feel you're forgetting to do something every time you lock eyes with the brunette. The issue seems to resolve itself when a 'mrrow' slips from Toby as he takes a drink, causing him to cough from swallowing wrong.

An unconscious effort on your part, you lean and rub small circles into his back. Trying to calm his coughs. A mistake as the tween in front of you zeros in on the man as if she's just noticed he existed.

“Hi! Who are you?” if her eyes could turn into stars they would.

“uh...” Toby looks to you for help, as if the child talking to him was an alien species. “Toby...” he says uncertainly after receiving no input from you.

“Toby....”

“Rogers?”

“Are you YN's boyfriend?” Toby wishes he had an excuse to cough now.

His face flushes at the question and before he can sputter out any tongue tied response another 'mrrow' rips through him and his head harshly tilts back. Jo's eyes widen at the tic, she excitedly looks between the two of you. And you aren't sure what's going through her mind at the moment.

“OMG Do you have tourette's? Does he have tourette's or is he like you?” she's practically vibrating as she bounces between questioning both of you.

“umm...touretter's?” you say in Toby's place as the man beside you can't function a sentence right now.

Jo literally squeaks in excitement at the new development.

“I'm Jo Cowell, YN's self appointed sibling. I have tourette's too, I've had it since I was five. How long have you had tourette's?”

It felt like Jo's never ending barrage of questions was just that never ending. Toby took everything in stride, aside from the awkward dating questions. And for how worried she was about her daughter bugging you today every time you tried to catch Dia's eye she was somehow wrapped up in another conversation or her husband. Your saving grace came in a four foot two package wearing a dirty soccer uniform and sporting a fresh black eye followed closely by her frazzled step mother.

“Yikes, ball to the face or fight with the other team?” Janette asked her daughter as she walked towards the blankets.

“Fell off the bleachers.” fucking how? “Jo want to run some drills with me?” Marnie asked with a grin missing her front tooth, and before you know it your blanket was down an occupant and Toby was free of the never ending hell he'd been placed in.

“Do...do you want to take a walk? Get away for a minute.” you asked looking at the positively ruffled man next to you.

He nods numbly and follows after you into the tree line. You both just walk for a bit until Toby's complexion looses any rosiness. When he's back to his normal greyish cool tones you stop to rest. Leaning against a tree Toby follows your lead but slides down the base resting his arms on his knees as his head hits the tree behind him.

“Sorry about her, Jo can be excitable.” you'd remembered as soon as her tirade began that you should have warned him she'd lock on to his tics.

That was a near replica of your first encounter with the tween. Too late to change that now.

“I didn't mind,” he gives a boxy grin up at you “'s just how siblings are.”

There's a fond tone in his voice as he says that. And the gleam in his eyes tell a story of experience with that sort of thing.

“You've got siblings?”

“Yea, an older sister.” he sighs and looks down and the grin falls into a neutral look.

There's a story there, but you aren't one to pry. If he wants to indulge you or even himself he will in his own time. However, a joke should be able to disturb the tension that threatens to darken your moment.

“Oh I bet you were an absolute menace to her.” giving a good natured chuckle, one Toby returns as the fond look in his eyes came back.

“For your information I was a delight as a child.”

“Pfft yea I bet. And just how many times did you break an arm falling out of a tree?”

Toby looks stunned for a moment. Was that something weird to say? You remember the summer nearly everyone in your grade broke their arms falling out of a tree. Hell you would've too if you hadn't landed in a bush, all you got were some gnarly bruises and a few thorns stuck in you. Then you swore a vow to only climb thick limbed trees.

“Like twice...but..how did, how did you know?”

“It wasn't a universal thing? I just figured since we were both from Virginia like your class would've also had like sixteen kids break their arm or something over the summer.”

“Well I was home schooled so I wouldn't know.”

“Wait, like home schooled home schooled, or church home schooled. There's a difference.” giving you a sneer he just shrugs.

“Fucking home schooled home schooled. Don't see how that makes a difference.”  he pops his knuckles. Jerkiness of the motion indicating his tic rather than his choice.

“One you're supposedly taught science and the other you're told Jesus loves you.” you deadpan as you slide down the tree mirroring Toby's position.

“I had two friends, they were twins, who were church home schooled until high school. Nice girls but only so many times I can pretend to know what the hell a veggie tale is.”

Toby snorts and shakes his head. This is probably all you'll get from him about his early life. But he's not dancing around the questions as much as he was a few weeks ago. The quiet is nice and you could honestly just spend the rest of the day in the forest. A cool breeze blows through the trees and you catch the smells from the picnic. For some reason it seems to make you queezy, you'll probably stay here a while longer. You might be getting overstimulated.

“What...what was public school like?”

The question sort of shocks you breaking the moment. And you just stared at Toby for a while before you actually thought of an answer. The answer you wanted to say was “hell, it was straight hell”. You don't think he's talking about the institution itself and more the experience. So you tell him.

You start to weave together a picture spanning twelve long years for Toby. Telling him of pranks or jokes learned, older siblings bugged, holidays celebrated, tearful goodbyes, joyous reunions. Paint pictures of gossiping friends, Jane Austin worthy rumors, unified students banding together to change outdated rules, snowball fights in the courtyard, Snapchat stories shared through the school. The distance that gets put into place the second you aren't legally required to spend all your time with people. The feeling of emptiness as you try to navigate a world you were never prepared for...and doing that alone.

You tried to condense it but you went off into a lot of stories and probably gave him way too much context for everything. But Toby sat there and absorbed everything you had to say. When your mood dropped as you finished he only had one thing to say.

“Sounds like it sucked.”

Looking at him you could see the worried brow and small half smile on his lips. It was reassuring in a sense.

“Yea, yea it did.”

The two of you sat and stared at each other for a bit. A sort of connection being formed from a not so similar but not quite unsimilar schooling maybe. Or the acceptance that someone didn't have to be just like you to get you.

There isn't really a lot of time to dwell on that as a pop is heard followed shortly there after by a crack and sizzle. Soon Toby's face was bathed in a blue glow, as was the surrounding area. Another pop came and the crack and sizzle followed after. Bathing the forest in a neon green hue. Looking up in time to see a third and fourth flare go up and watching them expand in a firey orange and yellow burst. Fizzling out as they made their way down.

“I didn't know there'd be fire...fireworks.” he's tense at his tree as he swallowed the lump that you clearly heard in his throat.

“Yea I...I didn't either.” looking back to Toby you hold out a hand, “Wanna head back to the lodge?”

He pulls his dark eyes away from the sky to look at you and your outstretched hand. Not a moment later he has grabbed your hand and is yanking you into a standing position with him. Leading the way to the lodge as if he were a bat flying out of Hell. His ability to lead you both deftly through the dimly lit forest with barely any sunlight was pretty impressive. At least it would've been had you bee able to focus on it rather than cringing from the noise.

When you get to the lodge Toby doesn't say anything, nor does he let go of your hand. You feel like he's completely forgotten about you even though you're literally joined together. Toby pushes through the doors and makes his way up the stairs. Without a word you let him lead you to where ever it is he's going.

Based on his behavior you have a pretty good guess. When Toby pulls out his room key with his other hand you know you're correct. And that waiting inside would be a very good boy.

“Connor pressure.” are the only words out of Toby's mouth as he flings open the door and falls back onto the ground.

Thankfully he'd let go of your hand. Since he all but dragged you here you figure he could use the company. Closing his door you go over and sit beside his prone form. Not saying a word to each other, just waiting for the others to get back from the festivities.

#ticci tobyx reader #timothy wright x reader #ticci toby #ticcitoby #timothy wright #timothy wright x brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #brian thomas #creepypasta fanfic #readerinsert

[annsparksthegmr]

Pokemon Black Nuzlocke - Part 2

Hey, am I doing a consistence post update on this series? Not quite. I only plan to update this when I make some progress worth writing down. But down below you can read more. Hope you enjoy it.

SO FUN FACT! Apparently, as I am attempting this run on my 3DS, I went to save from last time. Then I turned off my 3DS and waited until the next day to continue. HOWEVER, much to my surprise, the game did not register that I saved - or something something about the fact I am using a 3DS to the point where it did not register my last save. Meaning I’m back before I got Pebbles and Zigzagzop and all that story. Because I am a dumb-dumb. Sucks to be me, I guess. So for the purpose of the run, I replayed the events and luckily enough, I got the same encounters as last time. Meaning I wasn’t going to waste even more time catching everyone back up to where I wanted them to be.

So after the massive grinding session, Cheren gave me some berries as I arrived in Nacrene City. And after traveling to the second Gym, N decided to block me from entering. Spouting out his talk about Pokemon and I really wanted to just get to my Gym battle. So in return, his Pidove nearly knocks out my Zipzapzop but fortunately my quick attack was faster than his. Then I had Queen come out and easily knock out the Tynpole. Then when he brought out Timburr, I realized I don’t have any good Pokemon who could handle a Fighting-Type. Rip getting a Pidove this early. So with the Miracle Seed I got from some random lady, I just used Vine Whip to take out his last Pokemon. Like seriously N, I don’t want to hear your misguided lectures when you nearly took out my Electric Time. Though I will thank you for reminding me about the lack of coverage on my team.

Some random scientist guy gives me a tour of the place and highlights the obvious White Stone which - totally does come to play a part in the story later. And the scientist guy is actually Lenora’s husband. The fossils are really cool though. 

But now here comes the true challenge. Without a good Fighting-Type, I would be crushed instantly. And while it would have been interesting to go into the Gym without a Fighting-Type Move. Luckily! We got some Trainer who freely gives me a Rock Smash ™.  And since Team Plasma is blocking off a good chunk of Pinwheel Forest, I did not waste an encounter. But I was able to teach Rock Smash to Pebbles, Puppy and Fountain!

So back to actually attempting the Gym, my plan was simple. Feed Pebbles' experience and hope that Sturdy can save it from the wrath of Lenora. But then when i entered, I had only a team of about Level 15 Pokemon. So when my opponent threw out Pokemon close that were Level 17, I thought - well, might as well get my encounter and hopefully grind up everyone up a little bit higher in case.

Back to Route 3 I went to get my new encounter and get everyone up to Level 19. Considering the fact that Lenora’s Watchhog was Level 20, I wanted to hopefully be prepared as I could be if I had lost - mainly if Pebbles turns out to be unable to do the job. So another quick grinding session - in which I tried to aim to find Audinos to use. Since they only had a small percent chance to spawn in rustling grass - as with Sawk. But I had to beat up two preschoolers and a nurse before I got my encounter - a Tympole. It was a male and considering what it could possibly evolve into… I will call him Captain and put him in the box until Fountain was of no more use. But I went Audino hunting for quite some time.

Though in the process of grinding, Queen evolved into Servine. Puppy evolved into a Herdier. It made me a very proud Trainer. And I swear I will do my best to make sure she survives.

So after I felt adequately prepared, I readied myself with a quick save and challenged Lenora. So, I started off with Puppy first. Since she has intimidated and knew Rock Smash. Puppy barely survived two Take Downs before I was informed Watchog was to come next. I switched to Pebbles, hoping her Sturdy can help because I swore her ace would go for the immediate Retaliate. Instead, it went for Leer. So I got off a Mud Slap to lower accuracy before Pebbles got Hypnosis. The leers won’t do much through Sturdy - or that was my logic. But a Crunch got me into yellow health. Though Pebbles clutched the victory by dodging more Hypnosis and using Rock Smash.

Now after that ordeal which I might have to thank for the fact I had a plan with Pebbles - that and my little rock was quite bulky, I obtained the second Gym Badge. I think the only reason she did not use Retaliate on me was because Pebbles resists Normal and had Sturdy. That or something relating to something else.

But then right afterwards, Team Plasma steals a dragon skull and Lenora panics. Oh and Burgh randomly showed up. Reminding me I only had Zipzapzop who knew Flame Charge. If I don’t get a Pidove soon, I might be in trouble. Sadly, we got our first death in the forest. As a Ranger had a Herdier which took out Fountain. RIP to Sanpour I guess. At the very least, it gives me a reason to bring Captain to the team and teach Ghost Girl Cut. Because let me tell you right now - Fury Swipes has consistently been rolling 2 times only and it was making me mad. I’ll start training up Captain to catch up as with Ghost Girl. Since everyone else has hit Level 20 and they are still not there yet.

Getting the skull back was easy and we got more Team Plasma plot stuff. Then I decided to level up Captain before heading to Castelia City. With such a big city, I knew I had to explore all I could while I had the chance. Which included fighting some dancer who was Level 20! I was excited to know leveling everyone before arriving was a good idea. But Zipzapzop nearly died to Fury Swipes but got the Quick Attack out at the last second. This told me I really had to prepare and gather whatever I could. Since I did not catch a Pidove, Zipzapzop might be my only option. 

But then came the battle company. If there was any good place to train up my Pokemon, it was here. And the fact I would get an EXP Share if I defeated the old man. So my and the crew stormed right on in. A Petili also decided it would be fun to Leech Seed and Sleep Powder and Zipzapzop to just stall out the healing. And it kept getting critics hits. I’m not joking. Really happy when I had to switch in Puppy and she killed it with three bites. Ghost Girl also evolved protecting Zipzapzop, which surprises me considering how I didn’t think she’d live for that long.

Also I finally defeated the old janitor man and obtained the EXP share. This will make things useful in the long run. Kicked the butt of dancers in a dance competition to obtain the Amulet Coin. Then I went to challenge the Gym, only to run into Iris and Bianca at the dock because Team Plasma. So I guess I will have to kick their butts after Ghesis decided to give another boring lecture.

But I went into the Castelia Gym to battle Burgh. Much to my surprise, besides getting a few heals and using Thunder Wave, my big problems with the Gym were Protects and Razor Leaf. I managed to get it low enough, but then it nearly took out Zipzapzop. So I switched to Puppy and used a few Take Downs to finish the battle with no casualties!

Though before I end things off, I decided to meet up with Bianca and have a battle. It wasn’t too hard thankfully. So after defeating her, I will hopefully prepare for the next Gym Battle. Since I have memories of struggling at the fourth Gym. However, with Pebbles and the possibility of Captain evolving… I might actually survive. Granted, if I don’t play dumb and suddenly lose members of my team. Because I did not realize how tight my number of Pokemon are this early in the game. Since currently, I have only had seven true encounters in the game and I’ve lost one. (Not sure if Hidden Grottos count). But I have to remain cautious when I pick up next time. Because i think my luck is going to run out.

Team Recap:

Queen - Female Servine (Lvl 23)

Puppy - Female Herdier (Lvl 22)

Ghost Girl - Female Liepard (Lvl 20)

Pebbles - Female Roggnerola (Lvl 22)

Zigzagzop - Male Blitzle (Lvl 24)

Captain - Male Tympole (Lvl 22)

Deaths: 1

Fountain - Male Sampour (Lvl 15)

#pokemon #pokemon black #pokemon black nuzlocke #personal thoughts #part 2 to my series #already had my first death of the run

[jinmukangwrites]

Benefits

"I’m not too sure how big of a Zelink fan you are but could you write about the other links meeting Wild’s Zelda? Like everyone else is ready to bow and be all forming but Wild just straight up runs at her. And then Zelda pulls a Steven Universe and says smth like ‘I’ve been waiting to kiss your cute face,” (if you haven’t seen Steven universe I’d recommend it it’s pretty cool)" -anon

-o-o-o-o-

The stable could be seen through the distance and Time couldn't be more relieved. Everyone was aching; Wild's Hyrule was such a wide and vast place, most of the others in their group were simply not used to traveling long distances like him. Wild was the only one not stopping every few minutes to rub at his feet or take a gulp of water. Four and Wind were both exhausted, thankfully Sky offered to carry Four on his shoulders and Twilight did the same with Wind.

They would have stopped earlier, but Wild told them a stable was close by and after a few minutes of discussing the issue, it was decided that a soft bed with a roof over their heads was more desirable than the hard forest floor with the chance of rain.

"That's the Riverside Stable," Wild said pointing at the towering building that looked like a horse head.

Riverside Stable was a very fitting name for the building. It bordered a beautiful river with little bridges connecting small islands where goats laze around, eating grass and enjoying the company of their shepherd dog. Soft music could be heard as they approached and the air of civilization whispered over them.

"Let's go," Twilight said, sweat lined the top of his forehead and his arms were slightly trembling with exhaustion as he carried the practically asleep Wind.

Legend took the first move towards the stable with Warriors following close behind. Time gave the rest of the group the go ahead before they all began to follow after. As they walked, Time noticed Wild's eyebrows come together.

"What is it?" He asked.

"There's soldiers…" he said quietly. Time looked back to the stable and sure enough, there were two armed soldiers standing guard at the entrances of the stable, not allowing Legend (who was yelling at them) inside.

"Are there usually not?" Time asked wearily. Everything about Wild's Hyrule was almost barbaric, not that he'd tell them that. Time was used to a land filled with guards and soldiers watching over and protecting every inch of their land. He was used to order. Not the hastily glued together pieces of Wild's world.

"We don't have a big enough army," he said quietly. He reached up and brought down his hood and began to stride over towards the stable.

Time looked at the others before following after.

"I'm sorry, but we cannot let you in-" one of the soldiers were saying. He was strong looking, like he'd lived doing labor his whole life. The stature of knight, yet his armor looked like a rusted puzzle instead of what a knights should be. The other soldier looked much the same.

Wild ran up and shoved Legend aside before a fist fight could commence. The soldiers looked shocked for a moment as they stared at Wild with wide eyes glinting behind their rusted helmets.

Legend rubbed his arm and glared. "Wild, what the-"

"Sir Link!" One of the soldiers said, gasping.

And before anyone could do anything, both the soldiers fell to their knees in a low, respectful bow. Time stopped and Twilight gave him a confused look with Four looking at the oddity with half open eyes full of interest.

Wild took a step back, as if he himself were shocked by the action, but he shook his head and cleared his throat, but no noise came out. The next shock came when Wild signed, and the soldiers understood.

What are you doing?

"We cannot let travelers in, sir," one soldier said, slowly rising to his feet. The other nodded as the stable master leaning against the counter scoffed. "The Queen needs to freshen up-"

"Queen?" Wild asked, his voice choked with surprise. His mouth hung open and his eyes flicked past, trying to catch a glimpse inside. She's here? His hands asked.

The other soldier nodded, "we're returning from Hateno Village, Queen Zelda has had a long trip and needs to-"

"Zelda!?" Hyrule gasped, voicing the other's surprise and shock. Even Time found himself shocked at the information, sure, it's been a few decades in his time, Zelda eventually married and became queen, but… they were older. Zelda in this world couldn't be older than eighteen. It seemed the others were also expecting a princess, not a queen.

A feminine voice suddenly called out from inside the stable. "Are you not letting people in again?" The voice asked, sounding annoyed. "This is a traveler's stable, not a royal-"

The voice stopped as a girl dressed in a blue traveling cloak and brown trousers stepped out of the stable and ended up with her mouth open, standing right in front of Wild. Her hair was golden and her eyes were a beautiful green. Time didn't have to ask who she was, and neither did the others in their group.

"Link," Zelda breathed.

Time watched as Wild stared at her. Wild had never told them what his relationship with Zelda was, in fact, he hardly spoke about her unless he was talking about his fight against Calamity Ganon, which was very rare.

Suddenly, Zelda surged forward and grabbed Wild around his jaw and smashed her lips against his. Behind Time, Sky gasped and Wind made a small snort of disgust, yet Time remained silent as Wild gently wrapped his arms around her waist and returned the kiss hastily. She broke it for a moment, running the tips of her fingers lovingly across  his scared cheek. "I've been waiting to kiss your stupid face," she said.

They stared at each other before a moment more before Zelda pushed herself from him, smiling at the rest of the heroes. Wild too turned, though he was blushing hard enough to almost hide the scars on his cheeks, clearly he had forgotten the rest of the group were there.

"Where are my manners," Zelda said, as she folded her hands in front of her and smiled, "I'm Zelda, and you all must be-?"

-o-o-o-o-

Zelda and her small group of knights decided to stay the night at the stable with the heroes. She didn't seem surprised to hear about how each of them were previous incarnations of her hero, more fascinated than anything. She sat them all down by the fire and practically grilled them on their own Hyrules… or more of the kinds of things in their Hyrules.

"Interesting, so you're able to play songs with plants?" She asked Twilight, leaning forward. Twilight laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. Everyone was preparing themselves for a graceful maiden, not a geek. Not that that was bad, just surprising.

"You'll have to teach me," she said, "I have never thought that plants could create music, I was always more interested in the properties they pass on when consumed."

"Yeah," Twilight said awkwardly. Time smiled and brought his hands a bit closer to the fire toward the chilling night away.

Wild smiled and leaned against Zelda, "he collects bugs, too."

Her face lit up and she launched into a list of her favorite kinds of bugs and why they're interesting while Twilight gave a helpless look to the smirking Wild. She was in the middle of explaining why the Energetic Rhino Beetle was so important to the ecosystem before she cut herself off with a gasp. "I need to get something, I just remembered-" she untangled herself from Wild and half sprinted over to the Stable entrance. The two soldiers gave her a "here we go again" look as she ran past.

Wild was grinning over at the stable when suddenly Legend nudged Wild. Wild yelped, rubbing his upper arm. "What?" He asked.

"So what are you?" Legend asked, leaning back into the makeshift log chair below him. "Future king of Hyrule?"

Wild opened his mouth and gapped like a fish, blood rushing to his cheeks. "N-no! It's not-" his hands rushed in front of him before they were slammed onto his face, hiding his ever growing blush. "It's not like that…" he whispered.

Legend laughed and Warrior smirked as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Ah," he said, "so it's friends with benefits."

Wild whimpered and moved so both of his arms were wrapped around his face, curling into himself, as the multiple voices broke out into laughter. His protests went unheard.

"Wild, you sly dog!" Four said, laughing.

Time rolled his eyes as the laughter continued. Wild kept trying to tell them they were wrong but he was too flustered to mutter more than quiet no's and shake his head.

Twilight too was smiling until Wind nudged him. "What's friends with benefits? What's that?"

Twilight looked at Wind with horror as Time also came down with the realization that they had a child with them. "Warrior!" Twilight snapped, "there are children present!"

"Hey!" Wind protested.

Warrior had the decency to at least look a little shamed as the laughter died down. Wild looked relieved beyond measure that the attention was taken from him. Awkward silence sat around the campfire until Wind spoke up again.

"Is no one going to answer me?" He asked. When no one answered, all looking at the fire or in random directions into the sky, he growled and stood up. "I'm not quitting till I get an answer."

"Um," Hyrule said, he cleared his throat when Time gave him the don't you dare look, "it's… friendship is the benefits. Just- ah… super close… friendship."

Wind didn't look convinced but Zelda decided to return at that moment, stacks of papers towering in her arms. "Sorry I took so long," she said, plopping down next to Wild, "I had to search for all of them in my travel bag…"

She brought the papers out and placed the stack on her legs, nimble fingers flicking the corners of the pages. "I heard laughter?" She said, as she searched through the papers, "I'm curious to what was so funny?"

Wild looked horrified for a moment and no one could stop Wind from folding his arms across his chest and speaking. "Just about how you and Wild are friends with benefits."

Zelda visibly started as Legend desperately made motions with his hands, trying to tell Wind to cut it off now.

Zelda looked at each member of the group with wide eyes before she turned to Wild, who looked like he'd rather be a puddle. "Did you-"

Wild shook his head and in one fluid motions he brought his hood above his head.

"Yeah," Wind continued, eye's narrowed mischievously, "at least that's what War-hmoh."

Warrior lunged forward and grabbed Wind by the mouth and locking him against his chest. "I'm sorry your majesty," he said, his smile way to nervous, "kid hears things while traveling, gets terms mixed up. Grew up on an island, doesn't know how to treat royalty-"

Wild let out muffled curses and struggled to get out of Warrior's grasp while Zelda studied them for a moment longer. She cleared her throat and looked back down to the papers. "It's alright. Anyway, I was wondering if any of you can read this?" She asked. She held out a small group of the papers and Warrior let go of Wind. Wind sat back down, looking satisfied.

Time reached out and took the papers. They were ancient and browned. The edges were torn and crinkled, the writing faded from years of being left alone.

"I don't recognize it," he said, looking at the characters. He passed it on, each Link saying they didn't recognize the writing, until it ended up in Legends hands.

He flicked through the papers and looked at the faded characters for a minute before he looked up. "it's a recipe of some kind," he said, "looks like for a health potion."

Zelda reached forward and grabbed the notes, flicking through them herself. "We're rebuilding the lab," she said quietly, "and we found hundreds of these papers. All notes and recipes I believe. It's fascinating." She looked up at the group, "if… before you leave, if you wouldn't mind helping me translate some of the papers."

Legend cleared his throat. "Of… of course."

Zelda smiled brightly and then turned to Sky, "so tell me about Skyloft. Are the legends about it true?"

Sky nervously smiled and folded his hands together. "That depends on the legends you have heard…"

#linked universe #hero of the wild #hero of twilight #hero of time #hero of the sky #hero of hyrule #hero of legend #hero of warriors #hero of the wind #hero of the four sword #Zelda #botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda #fan fiction #jin writes #prompt fic #zelink #sorry this took a bit longer #didnt like some parts #didnt know how to end it either