#eggs 12 ~ walking fridge (sort of)

[realmackross]

PARTIES: @arustysnake, @realmackross TIMING: Around 12 AM, September 10th. SUMMARY: Oliver decides to go for a late night grocery run. Unfortunately for him, the only other customer currently shopping is a very, very hungry Mackenzie. WARNINGS: Unsanitary tw, gore tw, vomit mention tw (nothing actually happens, but there is a mention of it), murder mention tw (rip kim k.) PREVIOUS THREADS: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - Current.

Soft jazz rang out over the speakers as the doors slid open to an empty grocery store aside from a stoner kid who definitely didn’t want to be working. The fluorescent lights made everything brighter than it needed to be and almost hurt the shambling zombie's eyes as she entered the building with little effort. There had been no set goal on Mackenzie’s journey of wreaking havoc and consuming whatever was in her path. She just needed to feed and that was it.

Making her way down the aisles aimlessly bumping into things and knocking them off the shelves had caused a mess, but the kid up front had been lost in his own world listening to heavy metal not paying a bit of attention. The one thing that seemed to piss Mackenize off though was a cardboard cutout of Kim Kardashian that seemed to have gotten in her way. Growling with frustration, the zombie leaned forward and bit into the face of the smiling figure only to spit out the paper person in disgust with no sustenance to be found. And instead of waiting for Kim to fight back, she pushed the cutout down and walked over her, resuming her journey through the store.

—

How. How. Had he run out of… so much. Ollie had tried to write an actual list - his phone hadn’t charged, of course; the outlets were just that unpredictable, such a fun guessing game - before heading out, bleary-eyed. It was way too late for anyone to be walking around, nevermind along Worm Row. Even the locals didn’t wander at this hour. But he was, for some reason, too hungry to care. That’s what he’d been, the last few days. Hungry. He hadn’t quite placed it, at first, somehow; hard to, maybe, among all the other pinches and pangs he’d caught sleeping on a beat up mattress, on the floor, when he wasn’t tearing apart that old house from timbers to tiles. But tonight, sleepless and losing the argument with himself as to how tired he was, how he really ought to just be able to pass out and rest, please, he’d attempted to midnight snack himself to sleep. And found the fridge… weirdly bare. 

So. Fine. Problem-solving. That’s what he was doing, standing, in an absolute daze, in the tiny dairy etc. aisle, wondering why there were no more eggs. Scuffing a hand over his 2AM shadow, Ollie - found the eggs. In his basket. The last three dozen in the store. Apparently. God. Shambling on to… whatever was next, he rocked to a stop. There was a, some sort of - noise? Not the elevator-grade ambience fizzing on the speakers. Like… 

Cardboard, tearing? An art room noise. And growling? Not, typically, an art room noise. The cardboard that slapped to the floor several aisle-ends ahead. The growling - followed. Dredging up, it seemed, out of the chest of a woman who could, genuinely, horribly, be called cadaverous. White-knuckled, staring, Ollie froze. In the freezer section. He just - he couldn’t move. Something, low down in the back of his ringing skull, seemed very, very sure that was the best thing to do; Ollie couldn’t have explained the case it made, exactly, but. It was compelling, all the same.

—

The smell of fresh meat had caught Mackenzie’s dull senses and made her mouth water. Stumbling around aisle after aisle, inching closer and closer to what was going to be a tasty snack, she had her sights set on one thing. The meat department. The open cooler full of freshly cut steaks, chicken, and pork looked like a dream come true to an endlessly hungry zombie, and it was easy prey. The hardest part would be getting the tender morsels out of the plastic wrap, which she quickly found to be a challenge.

One by one, she picked up the containers of meat and bit into them, only to be stopped by endless after endless plastic wrap. With each package of meat she couldn’t open up, Mack’s frustration grew, and the harder she threw down the steaks, chicken, and pork onto the floor. The meat was piling up, but finally with enough anger and the one cell that seemed to be functioning in her brain, she managed to open up a package.

Pulling the large roast out of the plastic wrap and off the foam tray, Mackenzie bit into the meat and started gnawing on it. It was juicy, but not as tender as she had anticipated. Still it tasted like satisfaction, and she longed for more. With one successful snack obtained, she managed to pull off the next piece of plastic shrink-wrapped around a $22 t-bone steak. Her absolute favorite. And without any hesitation, began chewing on the red meat until she was cleaning the bone. 

—

The, well, meaty smack of tray after slightly gnawed tray hitting the tiles was only getting louder. And with it, some of the downright animal terror that’d wired Ollie in place started to snap, a strand at a time. His hand flickered to his back pocket, which was - empty. Shit. Because, right, his phone might be charging, blocks away. Couldn’t get an ambulance. Which… that’s what he should do, right? There had to be something wrong. 

So wrong. The plasticky squeak-rip of the wrapper peeling off a blood-swollen hunk of beef ran down his spine. Not like nails on a chalkboard; like nails, on skin. Those nails Willa had left thrown around in the cellar, rust-crusted, scraping before they gashed. He’d managed to slither a half-step back, soundlessly. Still staring, wide-eyed. Now, now she was just - eating it. Obviously. What else would she have been trying to do, besides tear into a raw, seeping, cooler-cold roast? Just. With her teeth. Obviously.

(He should move. Quick as that petrified, sensible skitter crawling up and down his spine. But she was just - she wasn’t well, to say the fucking least. And besides that checked-out clerk, there was nobody else around to do anything. And, and if everything Willa’d told him was true, which it wasn’t, and being something wrong got his mom murdered, which it hadn’t, then…)

“Can I help you?” He rasped, words forming faster, at this god awful hour, than the better judgment that would’ve definitely stopped them cold. “Is there anything you could… use a hand with?” Ollie tried again, wincing as those teeth tore at a waxy clump of gristle and crunched it down. “Anybody we could call?” At the desk. Which seemed so, so far away; he craned his neck a little, risking a quick glance towards the till, way down the aisles. 

—

Mackenzie continued to rip and gnaw. Chew and snack. Blood ran down her chin from the deep bites she was consistently taking from package after package of meat, now that she was able to actually open them up. That also meant that the meat on the floor would be next. It was a smorgasbord of delicious cuts. Organic meat. Cheap meat. Even vegan meat - that she didn’t like too well, and upon first bite, flung it halfway across the store. She had sausages, roasts, and steaks. Pigs feet, tripe, liver. You named it, and she ate it as quickly as she could get her hands on it. Yes, Mackenzie was in pure meaty bliss, until…

The quivering voice drew her attention away from her feast. And looking up at him slowly, mid-bite and still chewing, her glazed eyes grew wide and a breathy, demented gasping noise left her mouth; a current bite of meat dropping to the floor with a string of drool to follow. The already cut and prepackaged meal was tasty, but there was nothing like a fresh and very alive human.

Dropping what was currently in her grimey little hands, Mack slowly started moving forward with arms outstretched - cute dead grabby hands coming his way. Her eyes, though hollow and a milky white color, looked like an adorable and curious baby animal longing to explore what was right in front of it. But the bared teeth and growling said otherwise.

—

He absolutely could not help them at all. 

Ollie knew that, now, should’ve known, but. If he was lucky, he’d be out of here and behind every deadbolt on the O’Rourke door very, very soon, and then, only then, he could tear himself all the new ones his currently jackhammering heart desired. So long as whatever the hell all this was didn’t tear him a few first. 

Those eyes. He’d seen eyes like those before - on the rotting corpse of a deer he’d slipped and stumbled through on Lyssa’s Peak, years and years ago. Gauzy, bleak marble-eyes, staring out of a withering head, over black lips curled to bare baby-white teeth. It was hardly more than a fawn, its moldering fur still spotted under squirming clusters of hungry worms; he’d been hardly more than ten, skinned from the wild, gravelly fall. And heaving, nearly elbow-deep in its stinking, empty-sackish gut, where his hand had burst through as he finally skidded to a stop at the bottom of the hill. His fingers had torn away slimy, the juices of the thing gone thick and dark. Ollie hadn’t made a sound, then. Not until he scrambled back to the top of the fucking hill, and threw up - again, somehow - so hard he couldn’t help crying. And crying, God, red-hot with the mortification of it all. He didn’t say a word when he got home. Couldn’t. Never have been allowed outside again, probably ever. 

None of that was the fawn’s fault. Obviously. Maybe it wasn’t hers, either. But Ollie was dead-silent, again,  - dead, she looked fucking dead - besides the smash of those cartons of eggs and everything else he had in his basket shattering across the floor as he dropped it all, lurched backwards, and ran.

—

Mackenzie had her sights now set on one thing and that was the man that had currently turned and ran from her. What was it with people and running from her? If she could express herself in any way, she’d probably have let out a heavy sigh of frustration - comical at best, as if to say, here we go again. Why did she always have to work for her meals? The best thing she had come across had been the deer carcass on the road, before she had faced a man who was determined to saw her head off with a dull blade. It was just getting ridiculous at this point, but nevertheless, the power of the Flats drove her forward with a determination like no other. She just lacked the speed and coordination sometimes.

Much like an episode of Scooby Doo, Mackenzie made it a point to weave in and out of every aisle with her dirty, blood and glitter covered hands trying to grab anything that she could eat, mostly the only man in the store running from her; all while the kid at the front still had no clue that his store was being trashed to a heavy metal soundtrack that only played through his earbuds. Instead, they got the soft, but inspired jazz solo that rang out through the entirety of the store while boxes and jars crashed and broke with each wobbly bump into the shelves that the hungry zombie had made.

Finally, as if Lady Luck was on her cold, dead side, Mackenzie caught up to her prey and with a tight forceful grip, yanked him back and laid her blood stained veneers into his shoulder as hard as she could. Growling and yanking back, she tugged until his shirt ripped and she had managed to pull out a chunk of fresh flesh from his body. The warm and tender meat had tasted so much better than the store bought cuts laying in a messy, bloody pile on the floor in the back of the store, and she knew she had to have more. She wasn’t going to let him get away this time!

—

How loud was whatever the hell that kid at the front was listening to? He’d yelled, hadn’t he? Shouted - something? Couldn’t say. Ollie’s world had closed into the glare of the fluorescents, the scatter of swept shelves, his own bolting sprint, and the wet-mouthed snarl rattling down the nape of his neck, it seemed. It was. A freakishly strong hand smashed the air out of his lungs, slamming against the back of his ribs and tearing at a fistful of his flannel. His sneakers skidded, his arms flailed, he caught hold of a shelf. A hold he lost to the hard, hungry grip of whatever that lady was. 

(Sick. Strung out. Something.) 

And then - then he was in those teeth, shearing at wiry muscle and grating along bone and he was silent, still, fighting to get that lost breath back. Fighting with a rip and roll that left her with a mouthful, a mouth, full, of his shoulder, and a bundle of camping aisle firewood in his clenched-tight fingers, the zap strap digging in deep. Until it snapped. Because he’d hit her with it, blindly, wildly. Just slung the stack back and around as hard as he could, stomach churning, the smell of his own blood and the whole goddamn meat department and who knew what else she’d been eating roiling down the back of his throat. Fingers sticky - bloody? Bloody - on that barely-held-together firewood, Ollie staggered down the aisle, panting, staring. He’d hit her.

Hard enough? 

She’d been eating him.

—

Mackenzie wanted more. She needed more. Oh how she needed more of his sweet, sweet flesh. But when she went in for a second nibble she felt something hard smack her upside the head. Hard enough that she’d faltered. Hard enough to send her backwards and to the ground as splintered wood stuck out of her face leaving her wounded and panting loudly. But just like before, when the man with the knife had knocked her to the ground, she rolled around clumsily trying to find her footing. This time slipping on the blood that had dripped to the floor from her meal that was now fleeing away from her yet again. But she couldn’t find a way up, and instead, her one brain cell told her to crawl.

Pulling forward through the muck on the floor; scattered firewood, glass, and random bits of flesh and other bits and bobbles, Mackenzie used her arms to guide her towards the front. She hadn’t seen where her wounded walking nuggie had gone, but it didn’t matter. The moment was ruined. The meat in the back hadn’t even satisfied her craving anymore. No, she wanted fresh meat. And not some scrawny kid that looked like a twig with arms and a head.

—

She was still going. Even with a face full of splinters and bones that weren’t put together quite so neatly as they used to be. The tattered plastic just-holding that firewood together tore completely apart as Ollie turned away from the horrible sight of her, reaching, dragging. He stumbled around the scattered pine, but didn’t stop. Not for anything, Jesus. Until he was passing the cash register, swerving across the counter to sweep a bloody, shuddering hand right in the way of that neckbearded clerk. 

Who didn’t so much as take his goddamn airpods out as he blinked, slowly. And stepped back, holding the broom he’d been air-guitaring across. Hadn’t noticed a thing. Couldn’t. At this hour. In Worm Row. In Wicked’s Rest. Like there was nothing, at all, to be scared of. 

Ollie, wide-eyed, head light and hollow besides the roiling, animal panic bursting away like a crate of Roman candles, simply stared back for a moment. And shook, and dripped blood on the countertop ,and the floor, his shirt reefed apart, his shoulder gnawed open. “Dude,” the twentysomething scowled. At the mess, spattered all over the candy bars and gum, the fliers. Ollie might’ve had something - a lot of something, a hell of a lot - to say, like sorry, or run, or what the fuck!, or help, if he weren’t desperately trying not to puke, grey-faced. And if he hadn’t heard another of those growls. The clerk’s head had swiveled with his, at least; Ollie didn’t stick around to see what the guy made of whatever the hell he’d been missing. The door, streaked with red, screeched open as he tore through, and slammed shut, far behind him. Not far enough, though. Not yet. 

—

Mackenzie slowly pulled herself towards the front, but it was a much longer trek than just shambling along. The blood trail had led her back to the entrance of the store where the confused and wide-eyed kid stood dumbfounded; his eyes shifting to her as she made her way along. Not paying any attention to him, she finally found her footing again and shambled out into the cool night air. Eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness after the bright fluorescents had taken over her hazy view, the zombie felt her stomach rumble at the longing for another hardy meal.

Mackenzie held her head up and looked towards the sky, not really looking at anything in particular, but soaking in the warmth of the hold of the Flats that already felt like it was slipping by the pain from the pieces of firewood lodged in her face. And with a breathy hiss, she turned right and resumed her walk through the dark hoping she’d at least find something worth munching on that was more pleasurable and held still long enough for her to fully consume it. Maybe then, the pain that was oddly causing her face to throb, would dissipate and she could get back to hunting more substantial meals.

#para: bite of passage #para: oliver #arustysnake #{closer to fine; plot} #wickedswriting #unsanitary tw #gore tw #vomit mention tw

[starlitfunkster]

So I made some designs for Heinoustuck again...

This time (from left to right) it’s Kristopher Marlton, Eggs, Biscuits, and Anna Melody! I did me as well towards the end, not knowing how to make the design still work. She doesn’t have that much control over her green sun powers.

#anna melody ~ hs self insert #kris marlton ~ hs oc #eggs 12 ~ walking fridge (sort of) #biscuits 13 ~ walking furnace (sort of) #heinously underrated ~ heinoustuck #citrus art ~ art posts #sketchings ~ sketch art

[inkmemes]

this  country  (  2017  -  2020  )  sentence  starters ↪  taken  from  the  bbc  mockumentary.  trigger  warning  for  mentions  of  religion,  death,  sex.  alter  as  you  see  fit  ♡

“i like the underdog.”

“don't be a fucking dick.”

“everyone comes together on days like today and just forgets their utter hatred of each other.”

“everyone who's anyone's going to be there and there are people from my past that would love to see me slain.”

“there's a tea rooms there and under the counter they've got a panic button and if i take one step inside, they can press that. the police will be there in three minutes.”

"he whatsapped me the other day asking us to go laser quest with him and i ... well, i clicked on it by accident, didn't i? so he knows i've seen it."

"i mean, i get it, but it's not making me feel nothing."

“it's baffling. i'm baffled by the entire situation, if i'm honest.”

“what the actual fuck? what the actual fuck? you have fucking lost your head, mate. you have lost your fucking head.”

“when i get hold of you, i swear to god i will fucking deck you.”

"someone's just been throwing plums at my house. i'm going to kill them. i can't believe it. i can't believe it. all over this. plumming on here, plumming on that. plum on the sofa, look! there's nothing left that hasn't been plummed."

“i've had a target on my back since the day i was born.”

“thank you very much, enjoy your free potatoes.”

“do you know how small your brain is?”

“hogwarts is that way, dumbledore.”

“he used to say i looked like the puppet off the dolmio advert.”

“there's a kid crying over there. do you want me to...? i can tell him to shut the fuck up if you want?”

“he genuinely looked like a moomin.”

“on my first day of karate club, karate master goes to me, [name], i don't know why you're here because i can't teach you anything. if anything, you should be teaching me." and just gave me his black belt.”

“you know that little old blind man? yeah, when i was punching him in his face, the lens from his glasses broke and cut my knuckle.”

“some things are just best left in the past, where they belong.”

“what's the point in knocking if you're just going to walk in anyway?”

“it was a miscarriage of justice though, cos what people forget is 12 out of them 20 hostages actually found it funny.”

“i lied so much i still don't know what's real life and what's plain lies.”

“i'm so glad you're out of that lying phase.”

“he likes to be the only person on the road, so whenever he sees a car coming the other way he just pulls over.”

“nasa went through hundreds of them in the '60s. and now every time i see a really bright star in the sky i can't wish on it, cos in my head i'm thinking, ‘that's probably just a spacecraft with some monkey bones in it.’”

“you absolute traitor. that's my cheese - it's my fucking house!”

“don't you dare eat that cheese. you eat that and i will smash this. i promise you, i will smash you with this.”

“fuck! you switched them!”

“yeah, i can see it's fucking burnt, sherlock.”

“i honestly am ashamed to know him, sometimes.”

“if you knock on someone's door, don't take no for an answer. get into their house. if they say, ‘leave my house’, stay. and if they say, ‘i'm going to call the police’, you walk upstairs and see if there's anybody else upstairs to sell to.”

“she looks like uncle fester.”

“right. i'm going to piss in their flowers, then.”

“you really need to go home. your mum's called the police and everything.”

“you're also fired from being my best mate, by the way.”

“in business, there will always be setbacks. i don't drink my own juice, fray bentos doesn't eat his own pies. but that's business.”

“do you know what, i don't actually want to play this any more, because it is actually very, very boring.”

“i'm ashamed of myself, that's not usually me, so don't get the wrong impression.”

“i genuinely think one of them fancies me as well.”

“it's fate her moving across the street.”

“the problem with finding a girlfriend in the village is that most of the girls you meet round here are old-age pensioners.”

“yeah, i am looking for a relationship, but thing is i've just got so many trust issues, yeah, with being fucked over massive in the past, so no matter how much i get close to someone now i'm thinking in the back of my head, ‘shit, am i going to get fucked over?’ because i've been fucked over in the past massively. my last relationship proper fucked me up.”

“i went through a really dark phase. listening to papa roach and just blowing everything up with them little french bangers.”

“shut up, you don't know what you're talking about!”

“i don't like the man. i know he's my uncle, but i don't like him.”

“it's just malicious lies, that's all it is.”

“i'm not saying i've got a cruel heart, but if she ain't willing to take me as i am rather than the monster i've become, then she can literally just jog on back to sea with all the other fish cos i don't care.”

“what do you look for in a boyfriend?”

“the key to dating, yeah, is the two rs and the three ts. 'respect, rapport, and talking, talking, talking.' don't ever let that ball hit the ground. good relationships are built on great conversation.”

“on a date, you've got to tell them all the interesting stuff about you, because that's what they'll be interested in.”

“he said to me, he goes, ‘you can't smoke on here.’ i said, ‘i'm not smoking, i'm vaping.’ the look on his face when i said that. i don't think he knew what vaping… what a vape is.”

“you would make me the happiest mouse if you say yes and become my spouse.”

“here's a tip, [name], next time you take a chick out on a date, don't bore her to tears.”

“roses are red, violets are blue, i've got five fingers, the third one's for you.”

“get out of my way, pipe cleaner.”

“[name] phoned me the other day at three in the morning saying, ‘come quick,

there's a hedgehog in the garden that looks exactly like grandad.’ so i got up, i got dressed and i ran over to [name]'s as fast as i could and then i just stopped in the middle of the street at three in the morning and thought, ‘what the fuck am i doing with my life?’

“you're joking me? because if you are joking me, that is massively harsh.”

“oh, let me get a song up on youtube. you're going to absolutely love this, [name]. here we go… listen to this. oh, for fuck's sake, advert.”

“let's go down the pub and get shitfaced.”

“where do i see myself in five years? well, me and [name] will have a flat in the middle of the village and all of our furniture will be inflatable and we'll have cable and it will pay for itself, because we're going to use the spare room to breed quails, because their eggs are worth fucking shitloads.”

“is this about the calippo, still? because you offered to buy me that.”

“if he wants to go, good luck to him, i say. i reckon he thinks that i can't live without him, which is a laugh, because he went a whole weekend away once and i got on all right. i just ended up following this cat around the village.”

“i've got to do what's right for me, at the end of the day, instead of worrying about other people.”

“how about you say sorry? sorry for the massive knife that's hanging out the back of my back because of you.”

“oh, and while you're stabbing me in the back, feel free to bend down and kiss my arse.”

“can i just ask you an honest question? why would you want to leave the village when we've got a pub and a shop?”

“i think you don't know how lucky we have it to be doing nothing with our lives, like. we're all going to die, anyway, so what's the point in doing anything?”

“i want ownership of the words fucknut and dickmilk.”

“i had this come through the post. and i've got a few concerns about it. firstly, this guy on the front looks really arrogant. not the sort of guy i was expecting, if i'm honest.”

“this is starting to stress me out a little bit.”

“why are you trying to stress me out? you know i'm already stressed out as it is.”

“the bloke that used to live in there, right, kept hearing strange noises coming out of his attic at night. and he'd go to the fridge and find that food was missing from the fridge. so he thought, ‘i'm just going to go up to the attic and check this out.’ and he found an entire family of peruvian panpipe buskers just living up there. and he thought ‘i'm just going to leave them to it, ‘cos they're not really doing me any harm.’ and then, a few years later, he thought, "well, i'll just go up to the attic to check on them. ‘see if they're all right.’ and it turned out they'd all died of asbestos poisoning. yeah, he doesn't live here any more.”

“some people will always be scared of me, and i can't change that, no matter how nice i am. but there's a balance to be had between being nice and being feared.”

“don't really like catching up. it's not my thing.”

“i just watched this video of this girl doing a random act of kindness on youtube. she basically paid for this old man's shopping at the till. and this old man was, like, about 90 years old. and he's so fucking old, like, you could see through his skin. and he just starts bawling his eyes out. he's like, ‘you're fucking joking me, this ain't fucking real life.’ i just thought... i want to make someone feel like that. ‘cos that's... i really… that's what i want to do.”

“i'm not dead. just can't be arsed to text her sometimes.”

“you know, correct me if i'm wrong, but four texts a day is complete madness. no-one can keep up with that.”

“i am doing kind things selfishly.”

“i was at midnight mass one year, right, someone got tipped off i was there. as i was coming out the church, someone tries to shoot me with a crossbow.”

“well, i haven't seen the film, have i? that's why i came here - to watch the fucking film - like a normal human being.”

“i've made an effort by coming here tonight. i didn't want to come.”

“i had to wheel him here from his house in an asda trolley, cos he was just too heartbroken to move.”

“sometimes you don't know what you got until you ain't got it any more. like blockbuster's. i just took 'em for granted - and then, one day, gone, and you spend ages trying to figure out what went wrong, and then you realise it was your fault all along.”

“i thought you said you wanted to fix things.”

“she wanted it to go that way, and it just wasn't gonna go that way. she even got me thinking that they'd get back together… ..but that's manipula.... manipulative people... do that. and he's better off without her.”

“that wasn't much to write home about.”

“it's fucking dead, isn't it?”

“basically, somebody's been sending me threatening letters, and i don't know who's doing it - and i am concerned, because my peripheral vision is poor, so, if somebody attacks me from the sides or snipes at me from an upstairs window, i am fucked - but my hearing is excellent, see? so i just need to spend a few days inside honing my sonar, and i'll be fine then.”

“if you don't like the work, the circus is in town and they're always looking for clowns.”

“his soul is just going to crumble to dust.”

“this really is not a good situation for me. a physical threat is something that i can deal with, but a sexual thing is not my area of expertise.”

“just really fucked in the head, mate.”

“what have i done? i haven't done anything wrong.”

“do you know how sad that is? that is so, actually, sad. that makes me sad for you, that you can't take a joke.”

“i think i just got a bit carried away with the whole thing.”

“your finger's going up my arsehole, mate.”

“i'll hold the back of your head, so you don't bash yourself.”

“when i lie in future, i don't want a massive lecture on how bad lying is, cos deep down, you're the worst of us all, mate.”

“i'd quite like a coke.”

“it's going to be like gluing a breadstick back together, because… like, as if a breadstick's been in a blender and it's all… ...the pieces smashed up.”

“like, this one time i started a fight club in the village hall, and i got a black eye from beating myself up. but it made my enemies think, ‘fuck, if she can do that to herself, what the fuck can she do to me?’”

“i'm absolutely 1,000% sure i've broken it in two places.”

“i knew this day would come.”

“i should be in tk maxx, getting the bargains that i deserve.”

“unlike you, [name], i'm not a fashion disaster.”

“i'm still warm in my grave, and she's sucking off the pallbearer.”

“you know, it took me ten years to get over [name], and i only went out with her for half a day.”

“i swear to god, if i see him here again, i swear to god, i will have no hesitation in just going up to him and just planting one on his face.”

“right, then keep your nose out of my business, yeah? nosy old cock-womble.”

“[name]’s attitude to me is puzzling. if i walk past her in the street

and say hi, she'll tell me to fuck off. yet every year, she sends me a really sweet, nice christmas card. you know, there's just no consistency there.”

“he's good-looking up close, isn't he?”

“don't show me any weakness, because i will take advantage.”

“no, put the brick down, you fucking psychopath.”

“when i asked him, he just said, ‘come to my office now,’ which means we're in the fucking shit, cos we're always in fucking shit.”

“i shouldn't be paying you at all.”

“i've always had a son. i talk about him all the time.”

“he's my son. he's not my dog.”

“it reminds me of the wicker man. i don't really know why.”

“i just find it weird how you can be so close to someone and they can be such a big part of your life, and then the next minute, you're just sort of strangers in the night.”

“i don't want the emotional implications.”

“well, about five years ago, i sold my birthday to my mum for about 200 quid, which means my mum's legally entitled now to never celebrate my birthday ever again for the rest of my life. not even, like, a happy birthday cup of tea, or a moonpig card, nothing - which is the worst decision i ever made in my entire life.”

“he deserves that anyway, because he's been sexting my nan, so…”

“what's this surprise? cos i need to know whether it's going to be worth this walk.”

“i always see them banners above the motorway, and i always thought, ‘who the fuck does them?’ well, now i know. people like me.”

“did you know you can't get stung by a stinging nettle if you grab the leaf top and bottom, like that? it's only when you touch it on the sides, it stings. agh, actually, that stung, then.”

“pez dispenser, they're cursed. they are, i'm not even joking. honestly, when i had one of them, i had the worst bout of bad luck i ever had in my life.”

“i swear down, it's a short cut. it might be a pleasant walk, we might enjoy it.”

“i'm not scared of the fox twins. i'd just like to sit them down and ask 'em plainly, ‘look, guys, what is going on? ‘cos this has just gotten completely out of hand now. you know, stop walking on your knuckles, stand up straight, be the best version of you that you can be. get a job, even. there's a trolley boy who works at tesco's, you know, who may as well have been raised by wolves. if he can get a job, you guys can walk it.’”

“yes, there has been talk of strange goings-on in the woods, ghost sightings and the like. but… ...they're never from particularly reliable sources.”

“i live with a ghost. there's a ghost in that house. he's like a civil war cavalier, with all the hair and the hat and all that. and every time i walk into the living room, he doffs his cap. and on his shoulder, he's got this crow that barks at me. it means i spend less time in the house, really. not because of him, because he's-he's quite peaceable. but the crow is malevolent. and i'm not having that. i can't share my house with a malevolent bird.”

“that's haunted as fuck.”

“am i going mad here, or does that, to you, look like that's where just ghost will hang out all the time?”

“look at him, little red riding twat.”

“if he's got an attitude with me, i swear to god, i'll just grab the steering wheel and drive us all into a wall.”

“it's a bit annoying, actually. cos this is not the first or the second time i've had to tell you, really, is it?”

“his sparkle has just gone.”

“you know my dad actually wrote the song wonderwall on the back of a beer mat in the space of ten minutes, don't you?”

“i've just got a tiny, tiny, tiny little favour to ask you.”

“when i think of [name], i think of someone who is very loyal. and very, very stupid. sort of more stupid than loyal. sort of 70% stupid, 30% loyal, probably. because she's very loyal. but extremely stupid.”

“do you know what? i actually don't think he loves you at all and i don't think he's ever loved you.”

“all right, that's harsh and unnecessary, but fine.”

“frankly, she is behaving like the antichrist.”

“i literally just got here.”

“you are such an unemotional slab of ham, [name].”

“i've got so much shit on that man you would not believe.”

“there's something in my eye.”

“i just can't quit him, you know?”

“yeah, we might have a fiery relationship,  but when we're together, it's just… it's just pure chemistry, isn't it?”

“i'm not proud of it, believe me. but at the end of the day, i'm a very vindictive person, you know? it is what makes me me.”

“i basically went out and bought an alpaca off gumtree for £500. of all the mistakes i've made in my life, that was possibly the largest. definitely the physically largest.”

“yeah, i really don't wanna talk about that.”

“her only loyalty is to herself, staffies, and the tv channel dave… ...which, in my opinion, is a tv channel made by knuckle-draggers for knuckle-draggers.”

“i can't move on till i've seeked revenge, unfortunately.”

“if that was in france, that would be fine, but we're not in france.”

“the only thing we had in common, really, was stealing, and that was more my thing that i got him onto. but it just goes to show, you know, some friendships last and some friendships don't, but that's just the way it is.”

“you know it was me that got you sacked, don't you?”

“the thing i learnt about friendship is, you gotta accept each other's flaws, no matter how toxic they may be.”

“shit-stirring from beyond the grave.”

#rp meme #rp prompt #rp starters #rp sentence meme #rp sentence starters #this is the nichest meme ive made #but this show is so fucking funny okay

[bluejayblueskies]

How about 12. pushing a strand of hair behind their ear or 18. squishing the other’s cheek for the touching ask game!

touches prompt list

i did number 12! a little continuation of my no-entities au where only jon works at the institute and jon and martin are married and own a cat (which is here but you definitely don't have to have read it to read this!). cw for brief mention of canon-typical stranger content (in a non-canon-typical context)

.

Martin wakes to sunlight streaming in through the window, a slight crick in his neck, and a pair of intense brown eyes staring into his.

“Hey,” Martin mumbles, closing his eyes and snuggling a bit deeper into his pillow. He opens his mouth to speak again but his words are swallowed instead by a yawn.

“Hello,” Jon says softly. His voice is still ragged with sleep, lower than usual and a bit breathy. Martin adores it.

A hand ghosts against Martin’s cheek, and he cracks an eye open.

Jon smiles and traces his fingers along Martin’s cheekbone, the shell of his ear, the soft slant of his jaw. His expression is almost reverent, like he thinks Martin has hung the moon in the sky and lit the stars on fire beside it.

“Good morning to you too,” Martin says with a small, fond smile. Then, after Jon continues to look at him with open tenderness, all warm sunlight and pleasant harmonies and soft edges: “Can I help you?”

Jon hums. “What do you mean?”

Martin feels his breath hitch as Jon’s thumb brushes against the corner of his mouth. “You’re staring, love.”

Jon’s expression turns bashful, as it always does when Martin uses that particular pet name. “Am I not allowed to admire my darling husband?”

Martin isn’t sure which word makes him blush more: darling or husband. “Oh, no—you are. Highly encouraged, even. Just … wanted to know if there was an occasion. O-or if there’s something on my face.”

“No occasion.” Carefully, Jon tucks a strand of hair behind Martin’s ear, letting the tips of his fingers linger against the soft, sensitive skin there. “I just … thought you looked rather lovely this morning.”

The flush spreads across Martin’s face and to the tips of his ears, where Jon can surely feel it. “We’ve been married for almost three years, Jon. You don’t have to keep trying to win me over.”

“Mm, I have to disagree.” Jon leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s now-exposed temple. “It’s precisely because we’ve been married for so long that I ought to tell you how wonderful you are, and how much I appreciate you, and how much I love you.” He places another kiss on the top of Martin’s cheek. “I wouldn’t want you to forget, after all.”

Martin’s face could probably cook an egg by this point. “And to think, when we first met, I thought you weren’t the kind of person to have emotions.”

Jon’s nose wrinkles slightly, which is adorable. “Of course I have emotions, Martin.”

“Well, I know that now.” Martin reaches blindly for Jon’s other hand until he finds it and squeezes it gently. “You’re a hopeless romantic, through and through.”

“I can’t believe you ever thought otherwise,” Jon says with exaggerated offense. “I was never exactly subtle.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Martin laughs softly and brushes a kiss of his own against Jon’s nose. “You were saying that I’m lovely?”

Jon hums and squeezes Martin’s hand. “I was. And if I ever stop doing do, please assume that I’ve been … replaced by a monster that has tricked you into thinking it’s me by stealing my skin or … something of the sort. ”

“You,” Martin says, “have been spending too much time watching horror movies with Tim.”

“I have been spending a perfectly reasonable amount of time watching horror movies with Tim, and I resent any implications otherwise.”

Jon has an adorable little pout on his lips. He looks extremely kissable at the moment. Martin brushes the corner of Jon’s mouth with his thumb, cradles Jon’s face gently, and leans in.

And nearly gets a mouthful of fur as Clarence loudly and boldly asserts himself between them.

“Oh!” Jon says as Clarence chirps happily and bumps his head against Jon’s forehead. “Hello, Clarence. How are you this morning?”

Clarence meows and bumps his head against Jon’s face again.

“I’m glad to hear it. Getting proper rest is very important for a gentleman of your age, after all.” Jon scratches underneath Clarence’s chin. “Almost two years old!”

Clarence meows louder and turns to stare at Martin intently.

“I think he’s hungry,” Martin says, amused.

“Yes, yes—he’s a growing man.” Jon pets the space between Clarence’s ears. “Is your bowl empty? You’ve been very good this morning—I believe we have some wet food in the fridge. How does that sound?”

Jon sits up. The moment his lap is available, Clarence immediately jumps onto it and starts kneading his paws up and down contentedly. Jon makes a sound Martin could only describe as cooing as he gathers Clarence in his arms and stands, adjusting his grip so that the cat is held securely and safely. Clarence still seems to want to make it his personal mission to climb onto Jon’s shoulders. He wriggles determinedly and manages to get his paws settled on Jon’s shoulder with his face pressed right up against Jon’s cheek. The sight makes something warm and affectionate squeeze in Martin’s stomach; he wants to freeze time and teach himself how to paint just so he can adequately capture the image in front of him.

“What are your plans for the day?” Jon murmurs as he walks away, cradling Clarence close to his chest. “I’m sure you have many important catly duties to attend to.”

An agreeable mmrp is the last sound Martin hears before Jon disappears through the bedroom door and the sounds of his gentle babbles to the cat fade into the background. Martin lies in bed for a few moments more, staring at the open doorway and thinking to himself just how lucky he is that he gets to have this. Then, he stands, stretches, and follows Jon out into the kitchen.

He still owes his husband a kiss, after all.

#tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #my fic #my writing #ombreblossom #(i am planning on writing the other one in this ask as well <3) #sorry this took so long!

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟒.𝟓𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

Sunday, 12 July

Birds were chirping outside Y/N’s bedroom window, humming some sort of song that she now proclaimed to be her new favourite. Slowly, she blinked herself awake, yawning as she rubbed at her eyes, adjusting her eyes to the surrounding scenery. For a split second she completely forgot where she was. The room looked different, it didn’t smell of Bessie’s morning toastie and burnt bacon. No, her surroundings were a stark white in the early morning sun and the room smelled of freshly brewed coffee. However, that coffee couldn’t have been fresh, because the person beside her in bed didn’t seem to be very awake.

Y/N had turned over onto her back sometime that night, both arms bent above her head, nuzzling into the quilt Harry had laid over her along with his duvet. Breathing calmly, looking utterly content, Harry was on his stomach, one arm under his head while the other was lazily draped over her stomach, his thumb resting dangerously close to her left breast. He looked peaceful, tips of his dark curls given the colour of fresh honey in the lazy sunbeams shining through the open window, he must’ve opened it and the blinds when he woke up to report earlier.

He opened his eyes slowly, as if he could sense that she wasn’t asleep any longer, meeting her eyes right away. The green of his pupils looked like the moors outside, just as pretty, just as full of promise for opportunities and adventure.

“Morning,” she croaked, yawning again as she rubbed her eyes.

“Did my alarms wake you up at all?” he asked, voice hoarse with sleep still, though Y/N knew he had been up all of two, it not three times already.

“Nope,” she said, giving him a smile though her face was still swollen from a long night of sleep. “I haven’t slept that well in ages.”

“I didn’t wake you up?”

“No.”

“Not once?”

She giggled, looking at him as he slowly started to smile back at her. “No.”

“Promise?”

She laughed, turning on her side to face him. “Promise.”

“And you say you’re a light sleeper,” Harry huffed, removing his hand from where it rested on top of her. The lack of pressure on her ribcage felt strange all of a sudden.

“Did you make a coffee brew earlier?”

“Yeah, when I woke up at 6 to do the report.” Harry sat up, running his hands over his face. “I don’t usually go back to bed, but I kind of needed it this time around. Absolutely, blindingly knackered. Fuckin’ hell.”

“What’s the time?”

“Just past eight,” Harry answered, getting up from bed. “So, I might have to go report.”

“Go do that.”

“Figured out earlier that I have to change the bulbs soon, the ones in the lamp in the bell room.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “Soon?”

“Coming week probably, just gotta drive down to Pendeen or Longships ‘cause I haven’t done this before and I’ll need a tutorial.” Harry got up from bed, running a hand through his already messy hair as he opened the window by the couch to let some air run through the tiny cottage. “Anyway, I’ll go and report.”

She watched as he strolled outside, already wearing his denim shorts and a Frankie Goes to Hollywood tee shirt to take on the new day. Y/N looked around the tidy house, smiling to herself as she again could hear the birds singing outside, bidding her good morning.

She got up, walking over to the bathroom to do her business, then she washed her face and looked through Harry’s stuff till she found some moisturiser right next to a small bottle of lube. Y/N did not want to even bloody think about the reason he’d bought that, not when he knew he had most likely used it with Emilia. She applied some moisturiser before putting it back where she found it, then walked right out and to his kitchen. First she made some tea, then she looked through his fridge to see what she could make for breakfast for the two of them. She found two eggs, cheese, and basil, along with some cherry tomatoes he had in a small bowl on the counter, and figured that would do for a great breakfast. As she was frying the omelette, she heard something that resembled a car motor in the distance. Walking over to the window above the dining table, Y/N saw a red Volvo driving up the road to the lighthouse. Thinking they were there for Harry and he couldn’t come to greet them right then because he was busy, Y/N slid the tomato omelette onto a plate, cut it in half, put the other half on another plate, and then walked over to the front door, unlocking it just in time to see Grace emerging from the car.

“Hello, Y/N!” Uncle Tim called, grinning at her while giving a slight wave. “Alright?”

“Y/N!” Grace exclaimed, running over to where she stood and throwing her arms around her. “I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“Hiya, you,” Y/N smiled, giving uncle Time a wave before placing her hand on top of Grace’s head. She was wearing the pink and red headband Y/N had given her.

“Just droppin’ Gracie off, is Harry here?”

“Lighthouse.”

“Ah,” uncle Tim nodded. “Tell him to drive her back to the farm later, yeah?”

“Will do.”

And with that, Uncle Tim drove off, leaving Y/N and Grace to be alone for the time being. Grace walked around Y/N and into the house, and Y/N followed her, closing the door behind them. Grace walked up to the two breakfast plates, eyes growing wide before she looked back to Y/N, grinning from ear to ear.

“Is that for me?”

Y/N’s first instinct was to tell Grace that it wasn’t, that she had originally planned for her and Harry to have breakfast alone together, but the little girl looked so happy at the prospect of food that Y/N could simply not take that joy away from her with a simple and curt ‘no’.

“If you want it,” Y/N said, grinning as Grace squealed and took a plate, running over to sit by the dining table. Y/N took her plate and brought some cutlery for herself, putting it down on the table beside her own plate. “Tea or water?”

“Water, please,” Grace said, eating some of her omelette. Y/N poured Grace a glass of water before making a cup of tea for herself, then walked over to the table and sat down, eager to finally have some proper food in her system and not just half the cucumber she had eaten the night before.

“I thought you were vegetarian,” Grace said, licking some of the yolk off from around her lips.

“I am,” Y/N answered, sitting back in her chair before taking a piece of the apple she cut, biting into it. “Why?”

“You’re eating eggs.”

Y/N looked down at her plate, suddenly realising that Grace was very right. She was eating eggs, which she hadn’t thought of till now might not be a vegetarian food choice. Quickly, Y/N reached for her phone, going onto Google and doing a search as Grace watched in anticipation. Small giggles could be heard from the other side of the table, Y/N stuck her nose out at Grace. While reading, Y/N realised if an egg was not fertilised and never going to become an animal, it would be considered vegetarian and thought of as an animal byproduct along with milk and butter. However, Y/N wasn’t about to tell a seven-year-old that.

“It is considered vegetarian,” Y/N said, turning the phone around so her little friend could see, though it was clear Grace did not know what Y/N was showing her.

“Nay was worried,” Grace giggled, taking another bite out of the omelette.

Y/N put her phone away, furrowing her brows lightly. “What you mean?”

Grace shrugged her shoulders before she used both her hands to sip her water some. “Nanay did some research when we found out you were vegetarian, so she started listing all these things that you could eat and the things you couldn’t, and eggs were one of them on some website and not on others.”

“Jessa did research on vegetarianism?” Though Y/N knew Jessa had, she hadn’t realised just how thorough of a job Harry’s stepmother had done.

“Yeah, she didn’t want you to eat something that you didn’t want to eat,” Grace explained. “I like everything. I eat everything.”

Y/N laughed, shoving the rest of the piece into her mouth just as the door into the cottage opened and Harry stepped inside. He took his shoes off, stopping at the sight of Grace and giving her a huge grin.

“Forgot you were spending the day,” he said, walking over to nick some of the tea Y/N had made earlier.

“You forgot about me?” Grace asked, clearly offended.

“No, Gracie, it was a joke.” Harry brought the piano chair over to the dining table so he could sit down with them. “I need to mow the lawn today.”

Grace’s eyes grew wide as if that made her realise something. Frantically, she looked from Y/N and back to Harry, repeating that a few times before swallowing the bite she’d just taken. “Does that mean I get to pick a big, big, big wildflower bouquet?”

Harry smiled. “Yes, if Y/N’s not busy she can help you.”

“Yay!” Grace got up from the table, running over to Y/N and taking her hand in hers. “Y/N, pleaseeee!”

Y/N chuckled some. “If you let me finish my tea, I’ll help you pick a massive bouquet, yeah?”

“Okay, I’ll go start!” Grace ran outside, appearing outside the kitchen window right away, grinning from ear to ear as she bent down and started picking. The two inside sat watching her for a little while, drinking their hot cuppas and taking life easy, not bothering to run around with Grace when they had been drinking the night before.

“She really likes you,” Harry suddenly said, voice low around the rim of his tea mug.

Y/N glanced over at him. “Does she?”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled. “Thank you for picking flowers with her after this.”

“You don’t have to thank me, I want to.”

Harry nodded, looking down into the dark liquid of his mug. “I, uhm… I thought quite a bit about that… that fight we had… The fight last night. I thought about it this morning.”

For some reason, Y/N felt a sinking feeling inside her chest. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I… I wanted to apologise again.”

“Harry, you don’t have to-“

“-No, I see where you were coming from now. I know what it might look like to you, and, yeah, me walking off with her like that must’ve had you look like a right plonker.”

She nodded, sipping her tea some. “Not a great feeling, no.”

“It’s just… It’s kind of like… she’s part of…” Harry sighed, running a hand over his face. “It’s complicated. Emilia and I, everything there.”

Y/N stayed silent for a minute, eyes on her empty plate. “You obviously have history, I’m not trying to erase that or hurt you in any way, but I think she shouldn’t have done what she did at that beach knowing you had a girlfriend- a fake one,” she added as she saw Harry’s slight smile, he giggled at her. “And it didn’t look good when you walked off with her either. You’re always on about how believable we are, that didn’t exactly make us look like a strong couple.”

Harry pressed his lips together, a slight crease appearing between his brows. “You’re right, it was stupid of me to fight you after it as well.”

“It wasn’t stupid of you, Harry. If you feel strongly about something or if you don’t agree with what I’m saying or doing, you have every right to feel that way and tell me. But choose your battles, some are worth fighting and others aren’t.”

Harry smiled. “That one wasn’t?”

She shrugged her shoulders, trying to hide her slight smile.

“Yeah, I’ll agree with you on that one. I shouldn’t be around Emilia, not like that, not after everything that happened.”

Y/N felt a sudden urge to ask him what exactly happened, why was she such a complicated part of his life? Why did he still feel so attached to her?

“Y/N!” Grace yelled from outside, looking through the kitchen window at the two of them. “Y/N, are you coming?!”

Harry and Y/N shared a look, Harry raising his eyebrows and letting go of a long sigh. She only shoved his shoulder playfully before sipping the rest of her tea and then walking outside to be with Grace. The little one was hunched down, humming along to a song that Y/N now recognised as the one Harry wrote, Saving Grace. It was just the melody she was singing to, but Y/N still remembered every single second of it.

“Did Harry tell you about the new flower that has started appearing around here?” Grace asked, already holding a colourful bouquet in her hands.

“Yeah, he mentioned it.”

“It’s this one,” Grace said, holding up a tiny purple blossom. “Bellflower.”

“That’s gorgeous, that is.” Y/N took the flower out of Grace’s hand to look at it a little more closely. It wasn’t spectacular, kind of resembled an open bluebell in a way, but Grace seemed incredibly excited about it. “What kind of flowers do you want in your bouquet then?”

“Every kind!” Grace sang. “I want it to be bigger than big!”

Y/N laughed. “Alright.”

Friday, 17 July

Vintage Divine had been packed. Though Y/N was glad they were getting customers and that tourists from a few towns over or holiday-goers were all visiting the shop and buying tons, it meant there were less things for Y/N to look at. Yes, she should not be spending a lot of time in shops when she was trying to save up money for when she would eventually have to go off to University, it was hard to stay away. Especially when she usually stood chatting to Florence for well over half an hour every time she was checking out.

With a new blouse in her tote bag and a pair of new sunglasses perched on her nose, Y/N strolled along The Terrace, basking in the afternoon sun. Seagulls were singing overhead and the sound and smell of the ocean had a calming effect on her, making her both drowsy and content. It had been a long day of studying at a café in town, getting there when it opened at 9 and staying till well past 6. So, when she arrived at the Inn, she didn’t even bother saying hi to Bessie whom she could hear singing along to a tune on the radio in the kitchen. Y/N walked straight up the stairs and to her room, rummaging through her tote bag to find her keys.

While looking down, she noticed something against the wooden floorboards that she was sure she had never seen before. Looking beyond her tote, she saw something lush, green, and otherwise colourful. Bluebells, sea pinks, hedgegrow cranesbills, and bellflowers. A bouquet. She opened her door and bent down, her sunlit room making it easier to properly make out the wildflowers. She put her tote away before she walked downstairs, saying a quick hi to Bessie as she filled a tall glass with some water, then disappearing upstairs to her room again. She put the flowers down on her desk and sat down, staring at them in the light of the afternoon sun, shining in the glistening water that was feeding them. By the state the flowers were in, Y/N assumed they must have been outside her room for at least an hour, maybe some more, because they were flaccid. Regardless, they looked so beautiful, fit so perfectly in her room, that it was hard to tear her eyes away from them in the end.

She quickly got up, studying herself in her mirror to make sure she looked alright. Though the many hours of studying were visible in the slight bags under her eyes, Y/N deemed herself presentable. She put on a dark green boxy high neck jumper over her white midi smock dress, retying her black Vans before she got her phone and keys, put them in one of the pockets in her jumper, then walked straight out of her room again. Bessie must have heard Y/N hurrying around upstairs, because she poked her head out of the kitchen, watching the younger woman jog down the stairs and out the Inn door.

Upon walking up the hill leading to the lighthouse, the first thing Y/N noticed was that there was another car out front. Beside Harry’s yellow van stood a smaller blue car, one Y/N had never seen before. The orange sun hung low on the horizon, indicating that sunset would soon shine its colourful gleam over Cornwall, and the lighthouse would therefore start blinking its light to help sailors on their way wherever they should want to go.

As she approached the house, the door into it opened, and though the strong winds of the Clodgy moors rarely managed to carry someone’s voice far enough to hear it at a great distance, Dax somehow managed to defy that. He stepped out onto the gravel, walking over to his car and opened the boot. On his way over he saw Y/N, grinning widely at the sight of her and waving enthusiastically.

“You alright?” he asked as she walked over to him.

“Yeah, and you?”

“Splendid, thanks.”

“Looking for treasure back here?” Y/N gestured at the boot.

Dax chuckled. “If by treasure you mean beer, then yes.”

She raised her eyebrows, smiling. “Oh?”

“We’re going Porthgwidden,” Dax explained. “Your boyfriend’s inside getting dressed, Amir’s chatting his ear off so you might want to save him.”

Y/N walked past Dax and toward the cottage, the door still open, carrying Amir’s voice all the way outside. She stopped in the hallway, dusting her shoes off a bit before stepping into the doorway that led to the living area. Harry stood by his dresser, his bare back to Y/N as he rummaged through one of his drawers. She was instantly taken back to the kamayan on the beach with his family, how he had run past her and Grace, and how his love handles and soft skin glistened in the glittering water. His shoulder blades worked as he reached for a tee shirt, taking it over his head and putting it on while Amir continued to talk, and somehow, seeing them along with the slight outline of his back muscles, made Y/N suck her bottom lip between her teeth, hypnotised by him.

“Y/N,” Amir suddenly said, making her look to her right where he sat on the sofa, shoes propped up on the coffee table in front of him.

Harry looked over his shoulder, meeting her eyes and his widening at the sight. He turned around, clearing his throat some as he tucked a ‘Safe sex’ Keith Herring tee shirt into his high wasted washed denim jeans. She gave him a smile before looking at Amir.

“What’s happening at Porthgwidden, then?” she asked, looking from one to the other.

“Nothing, really. Just gonna hang out for a bit, have a few pints.”

“You wanna come?” Harry asked, putting his black Converse on.

“I don’t wanna ruin time with the lads, though.”

Amir shook his head. “You’ll only ruin it if you don’t tag along.”

She chuckled. “Really?”

“I want you there.”

She was shocked to hear Harry say that for some reason. Her heart sped up at the thought of him maybe actually meaning that, but it slowed down as she reminded herself it was all for show. Amir was in the room with them and Dax might be overhearing the conversation, they had to be convincing, they had to be believable.

She forced herself to calm down, smile widening as she said, “Alright then, let’s go to the beach.”

Amir immediately started singing the Nicki Minaj song with the same lyrics, sliding past Y/N to go outside to Dax. Harry reached for a thin jacket that was hung over one of his dining chairs, slipping it on as he glanced about the room for his keys and phone, throwing a small brown leather rucksack on his back.

Y/N’s eyes drifted to her usual windowsill. She hadn’t been there in about two days because Harry had been busy running errands at Pendeen and Longships lighthouse, what he was doing there she didn’t know, but it must have been important. He had mentioned something about him changing the bulbs in the bell room sometime soon, maybe he was just getting a tutorial on how to do that. Because of his absence, she hadn’t bothered being there, seeing as it would also mean being there alone and she would much rather be here with Harry. She hadn’t noticed at first, but she saw something that looked like cushions in the windowsill along with two pillows in the same creamy white. It looked like an absolutely dreamy place to do her UCAT work now.

“Ready?” Harry asked, closing the window over the couch.

“Yeah,” Y/N said, stepping outside. “Also, I wanted to thank you for the bouquet.”

Harry met her eyes, surprised that she had come all this way just to say that. “Yeah?”

“They were beautiful.”

He bit his lips together as he locked the front door, she swore she could detect a small tremor to his voice as he said, “They reminded me of you.”

Y/N scoffed, making Harry turn around a little faster than he normally did. “You said that last time as well, when Grace was there.”

“I mean it, Y/N.”

“Let’s fucking go!” Dax called, Amir clapping his hands together as the two of them started down the gravel road. Too shocked and not really knowing what to do, Y/N turned around and started walking toward them. She did not know if Harry was just taking the piss as friends did or if he actually meant it. Regardless, it was making her head spin and she had no idea how to handle him.

The four of them strolled along Fore Street, talking merrily amongst themselves as they made their way to St Ives Bakery. Harry had previously mentioned how he worked there when he was younger so he could earn money to spend on Grace, and she understood why he would want to work there when they entered the shop. Pastries and everything else imaginable were displayed by the counter, the delicious smell of bread and carbs making Y/N’s mouth water. Since arriving, she hadn’t tried a Cornish pasty, something she was embarrassed to admit, but Harry already knew this. He pointed out the vegetarian options and asked her which once she wanted. Though she was a bit shocked he wanted to buy her a pasty, it was exactly the kind of thing she expected from Harry. He would give in if she told him she could buy one for herself, but Harry liked taking care of people. He liked to provide; seeing someone happy because of something he did could have him goofing around and giggling for hours. She therefore said yes, feeling something inside her chest heat up at the sight of Harry’s dimple showing.

Each with a pasty in hand, they walked to Porthgwidden, finding a place relatively close to shore where no one was sat. Most people around were seated at the Porthgwidden Beach Café, chattering loudly and drinking their way into the weekend. Dax plopped down into the sand, letting go of a huge sigh as he opened his beer and took a long swing.

“That’s fucking dangerous, that is,” Dax said, looking at his beer can.

“Good thing the Café is open still, you’ll finish that one in about-“ Amir looked at an imaginary clock on his wrist. “-A minute.”

“Can’t blame a man for devouring a cheeky beverage on a Friday afternoon.” Dax sipped some more beer as Y/N sat down beside him, Harry sitting down to her right. “Tastes like what you’d imagine happiness to taste like, you feel me?”

“More of a cider person myself,” Y/N said, removing some of the paper around her pasty so she could take a bite.

“Why didn’t you say anything, mate? Would’ve gotten you one on the way here!” Dax exclaimed. “I actually think I might have some cider in my car as well.”

She smiled at him. “Completely fine, hun. I appreciate you lot wanting me here in the first place.”

“Harry here wouldn’t have come if you hadn’t,” Amir said, as if it was a fact of life. “But we want you here as well.”

Y/N looked at Harry who was wearing the red heart shaped sunglasses she had given him a few weeks ago. She hadn’t even realised he brought them. Harry took a bite out of his pasty before he glanced at her, nodding toward her pasty as if ordering her to take a bite. She did.

“Was about to say a girlfriend of Harry’s is a girlfriend of ours, but I don’t think-“

“-No, she’s not,” Harry interrupted Dax after swallowing. “She is not.”

“Lad,” Dax laughed. “Just taking the piss.”

Harry rolled his eyes before meeting Y/N’s gaze again. “What’d you reckon?”

“It’s nice.”

“Yeah? We can get some again at a later time?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, her tummy experiencing a tickling sensation at the sound of his words. “It’s actually weird how I haven’t had a Cornish pasty till now.”

Amir gasped. “I’m sorry, what?”

Y/N laughed. “I know.”

“I’ve literally told her countless times she needs to try one, but she ‘forgets to buy one’.” Harry shook his head some before opening his beer can, then reaching over for Y/N’s and opening hers as well, putting it back in the same place she’d placed it.

“You’re spending your summer in Cornwall, you’re over halfway through your stay, and you haven’t tried a Cornish pasty?” Dax tutted. “Doesn’t sit right with me, mate.”

“Hey! In my defence, I’ve been very busy.”

“You studied at a café today, could’ve gotten one,” Harry teased.

Y/N turned to look at him, mouth falling open. She hadn’t been at Harry’s today mostly for a change of scenery, to get out and do something different, be someplace new, but she hadn’t expected Harry to have thought about it. She hadn’t told him, so he must have come to the conclusion himself.

“Could’ve,” she said, looking at her pasty.

Harry nudged her shoulder, making their eyes meet again. He gave her a reassuring smile and nodded at her pasty, silently asking her to take another bite. She did, looking out over the ocean in front of them, the sky a deep orange and pink, soon to have a tinge of purple intermingling, keeping the horizon company till night would take over completely. Harry took his rucksack off, bringing his camera out before he stood up.

“Mate, if you don’t become a director,” Dax grinned.

“I’m good being a lighthouse keeper, thanks.”

“Imagine you directing a psychological thriller set in the 50s, following a married couple, yeah? Bear with me, crew,” Amir went on, holding his hands up before him as if he wanted everyone to envision what he was. “The husband’s got a dark secret, the wife doesn’t suspect anything-“

“-Great, how ‘bout you write that down as a possible book idea, I need footage right now of normal people. You know what that is, Amir?”

“I’m gonna write that idea down right away, actually. Gonna be a bloody bestseller, I’m tellin’ you,” Amir said, making Dax hold his pasty as he brought his phone out, typing away at the notes app. Harry stood watching his friend with his eyebrows raised, his eyes growing wider for each second he was left waiting. Y/N couldn’t hold her giggle back, bringing her hand over her mouth to muffle it, but Harry caught her. She only saw his smile as he brought the camera up to his eyes, zooming in on her as she laughed. As she swallowed her bite, she looked to Dax who only made a grimace at her, also fed up with how long it was taking Amir to write his book idea down. Completely unprompted, Dax brought Amir’s pasty to his lips, giving it a little kiss before he took a bite. Amir’s head immediately whipped in Dax’s direction.

“Are you mad, bruv?!” Amir exclaimed, ripping his pasty out of Dax’s hand. Y/N only laughed even more, but Amir was only watching Dax with mortification, offended and frankly disgusted. “That’s my pasty! You have your own!”

“Should’ve thought of that before you took a year off to write a book down in your notes app,” Dax said through his mouthful, shrugging his shoulders.

“You’re off the trolley.” Amir put his feet in an awkward position, placing his pasty there. “Completely mental.”

“Love you too,” Dax said before taking a bite out of his pasty, then waving at Harry who now had the camera placed up to his eye.

“You’re supposed to pretend I’m not here,” Harry mumbled.

“No can do.” Dax swallowed his bite. “Impossible to pretend hunk of the century isn’t standing right in front of me.”

“Why are you like this?” Harry asked, slowly turning away from the group to get a shot of the beautiful sunset.

“I would say I’m a good friend, aren’t I? Complimenting you like that. Am I not, Y/N?” Dax asked, looking at her to his right.

“Compliments are important,” she agreed.

“And isn’t Harry the most handsome man you’ve ever seen?”

“Dax!-“

“-He might just be,” Y/N giggled.

Harry seemed to lose his footing some, because he fell backward, stumbling awkwardly till he got his balance back. Amir found this incredibly entertaining, clapping his hands together as he laughed at Harry who was now red-faced and very flustered. He blinked rapidly as his eyes landed on Y/N, then Dax, then Amir, then back at Y/N again. She tried not to look too much into it, it was probably just that Harry stepped funny and made a fool of himself, but part of her brain wanted to believe it was because of what she had said.

Harry sat down next to her again, putting his camera away before picking up his pasty. While looking out over the ocean before him, his eyelids fell a little lower over his eyes, relaxing completely as he took yet another bite of the baked good. Instead of making it obvious that she had a small crush on him, Y/N looked away, eyes falling to her pasty. She shoved the rest of it in her mouth before turning to focus on the conversation Dax and Amir were having.

It was nice to listen to them chat shit, because Y/N normally only heard gossip from Bessie’s ladies. Though she was sure this gang wouldn’t mind a little goss every now and again, it was nice to talk about nothing in particular. Dax complained how his beer was empty, Amir saying it was his fault for having quite literally downed it, but since the whole lot had drunk a considerable amount of their beverage, they decided that Dax and Amir should walk up to the café and get them a pint each. They took the pastry paper and empty cans with them and started up to the beach bar.

“Have you been to the Cornish Candy Shoppe then?” Harry suddenly asked after a short pause in conversation.

“Where’s that?”

“Fore Street.”

She scoffed. “Everything’s on bloody Fore Street.”

Harry laughed. “It’s easy to find stuff, though. You already know where Fore Street is.”

“But everything’s always on Fore Street.”

“If I told you another street name in St Ives, would you be able to tell me where that is?”

Y/N nodded. “Well, of course.”

“You’re confident.”

She giggled; Harry smiled. “I’ve been here for well over a month, I’d say I know my way around.”

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

“So…” Harry trailed off, looking out over the ocean in front of them. “So… you know this as well as you know your hometown?”

She studied him for a little while, her silence making him meet her eyes again. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Well, maybe. I… I don’t really think about Winchester that often anymore. Because I’m here, with you, and I don’t… I just don’t think about anything else besides or outside of that.”

He slowly opened his mouth and said, voice as light as a mumble, “You don’t think about anything else?”

She stared back at him, piece of her unsure of what part of her statement he was referring to. Whatever portion of that sentiment that anyone pointed out, she would have to say yes, because it was true. There was nothing else to her now than St Ives and the little life she had created for herself there. She was happy here, she was at peace here, she felt at home. Was there anything else to think about? To care about? Y/N did not think so. She knew that since she was happy now, there was no reason for her to focus on anything but that. Happiness was fleeting, just like everything else in life. It comes and it goes, just like waves crashing against shore, and just like night and day. You will simply not be happy every single day, or every single week even, at your worst. But happiness will come back, and it will feel as good, if not better, than all those times before. And right now, Y/N was happier than she had ever been. She simply did not want to focus on a time in her life when she had not been happy, what a waste of euphoria.

“Y/N, I…” Harry’s eyes flicked between hers, quickly examining her lips before glancing at her again. “I don’t think about anything else than… than this.”

She suddenly felt something thumb hard against her chest, realising that it was her heart having an insane and overwhelming sort of reaction to what Harry was saying. “This?”

“Us.” He moved a little closer. “Y-You.”

She felt like pinching herself. This did not seem real. Harry was not this close, he was not saying these lovely things, it did not make sense. But at the same time, it made perfect sense. Because she felt herself leaning toward him, drawn to him like she was supposed to be pressed up against him, and it felt right. There was a balance and peace that came over the world every time they touched.

“You think about me?” she asked, voice low so only they could hear.

She felt a breath hitch somewhere in her throat, incapable of forming any sort of coherent sentence as she felt his breath on her lips. Or was it an ocean breeze? Was it her wishful thinking? Was she just imagining this because she wanted it so bad?

“I…” His cheeks were a deep pink. “The question I asked you last Saturday…”

“What question?”

“If you’re staying. You never answered it.” A little pause ensued. “Are you?”

“Do you want me to?”

Harry’s eyes fell to her lips, his own parting as he tilted his head a little to the right, meeting her gaze again. She felt electric; static with anticipation, buzzing with silent what-ifs and pleads for him to answer her question. At first, she realised Harry was moving forward, not too fast for her not to realise what was going on, but fast enough for her to not be able to form any thoughts before it happened. He kissed her. A hard and urgent pressure that was soft against her lips, tingling in every single part of her being. It was like watching a lightning strike somewhere close by, the entire sky lighting up, and then, mere seconds later, feeling the effect of the electrical discharge all around her. The rumble of the ground you were standing on, the vibrations in the air around you, every hair on your body rising.

He detached his lips from hers, meeting her eyes for a second to see if she was okay with this. Y/N didn’t want to wait for him to do something again, so she leaned in, pressing her side against Harry’s as her lips landed on his again. Gently, Harry rested his hand on her neck, thumb caressing her jawline as he guided her mouth open wider for him. She felt herself breathe against him, a sigh of dreamy relief as his tongue met hers for only a second or two. The reverberation of a slight moan left Harry’s lips, his entire body relaxing completely as they dragged the kiss out. Defences down; feeling every single thing their bodies were going through as they kissed again. Y/N heard her heart thumping loudly in her ears, felt it in her chest, not believing what was actually going on. It seemed too good to be true. She was kissing Harry. He was kissing her. They were kissing.

He pulled away, opening his eyes ever so slightly as she did. He leaned into her again, placing a soft kiss to her temple that had every single future headache dissipate. Another kiss to her cheek that eradicated every single nightmare she had in the past and would ever have. Another to her jaw that took away all the pain of leaving her life behind in Hampshire, a kiss that made her realise it was the best decision she had ever made. Hope flowed from the tubercles of Harry’s lips and into her skin, sinking into each one of her cells, making a sort of sanguine feeling erupt throughout her body that made her dizzy with want, need, and delight. Kissing the side of her mouth, he met her eyes again, the tips of his fingers gracing the hair at the back of her head. He drew her to him again, kissing her lower lip so tenderly it felt like the petals of the flowers Harry had left outside her room earlier that same day. She never wanted to stop kissing him; she never wanted this to end, never wanted him to let go of her.

“Oi!” Dax laughed behind them. Harry sat up straight, detaching his lips immediately from Y/N’s. “Not in public, brothers! Fucking animals!”

Dax and Amir sat down where they had been seated before, Dax nudging Y/N to take the pint he had bought for her, asking her to give one of them to Harry. When she passed the beer to Harry, looking at him to try and meet his eyes, his were already fastened on the beer, and then the horizon in front of him. She felt her heart drop so fast it made her dizzy.

“Thought about getting some crisps, but they’re well expensive up there, aren’t they?” Amir said, sipping his pint. “Bleeding fuck, that’s nice.”

“Not worth it,” Dax agreed. “We should bring some next time, Harry can put them in his rucksack, can’t you, mate?”

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking down at his beer.

Y/N tried to catch Harry’s eye again, looking at him as the conversation around them continued on, but he didn’t look at her. She suddenly felt a little sick. Maybe she was overthinking all of this, maybe she was correct for thinking it, maybe this had been his plan all along. He must have only kissed her right here and right now to put on a show for Dax and Amir, to get the exact reaction they had just gotten.

“I just… I just thought it’d look good, you know? To kiss my girlfriend- my pretend girlfriend around other people just to underline that we are… you know…”

It hurt to think about those words, especially now. For a second there she thought he was genuinely kissing her because he wanted to. He was kissing her because he wanted her to stay and she was kissing him back because she was going to. If he wanted her to, she would. But it turned out to be just part of the game. It was just part of their little fake relationship, taking it a step further so Harry’s mates would believe them and what they had even more. After all, he kissed her cheek last time, kissing her lips would only make them believe them even more.

“Terraland on Sunday,” Dax said, clapping his hands together. “Who’s excited?”

“Who is riding in Harry’s van? The gang?” Amir asked. “’Cause I think Fatima was talking about driving her car as well, and, as her cousin, she allowed me shotgun.”

“You can still ride shotgun in Harry’s van, you’ve done it plenty,” Dax said.

“Yes, but I got a cousin pass. I don’t got cousin pass in Harry’s van. It’s a guaranteed shotgun.”

“How come Fatima is good looking, smart, and she’s got a driving license, and you got none of that?” Harry asked, making Dax howl with laughter.

“Just ‘cause we’re family doesn’t mean we’re the same person!” Amir exclaimed, a smile on his face like he knew Harry was just taking the piss. “Admit it, Haz, you think I’m good looking.”

“You are, but you don’t have a driving license.”

“Piss off!” Amir laughed, sipping his beer. “Besides, Y/N’s riding shotgun in Harry’s van, is she not?”

Y/N’s heart started beating faster than it should’ve

“Aw, mate!” Dax stuck his bottom lip out. “What about me?”

“What about you?” Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

Y/N wanted to sip her beer, but she wouldn’t. She checked her pockets to make sure her phone and keys were there.

“Your girlfriend is getting a free shotgun pass?”

“Obviously,” Harry said, sounding as if it was a given that she was going to ride shotgun to Terraland. “Are you shocked?”

“Disappointed.”

Harry huffed, shaking his head.

“It’s been lovely, but I need to leave,” Y/N said as she stood, brushing sand off her white dress.

“Aw, what about your beer, babe?” Dax asked, looking up at her with big eyes as if he didn’t want her to leave. “I was only taking the mick, you can obviously ride shotgun.”

She smiled. “Nah, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“Alright, mate, we’ll see you Sunday,” Amir smiled.

“Call if you want to talk to someone on the phone, yeah?” Harry said, she could see him almost reaching his hand up for hers but stopping himself when their eyes met.

“Will do,” she answered, giving him a small smile before she walked off.

“Bye!” Dax called and she gave him a wave before continuing on her way. She bit her bottom lip as she walked through the sand, the chatter from the Beach Café loud and the waves crashing against shore supposed to be calming. Walking up the same small hill where Harry had taken her hand last time, she felt the backs of her eyes starting to sting. She put her hands to each of her cheeks, dragging them down as she groaned a little to herself. How could she have been such a bloody fool? Of course, Harry didn’t feel the same about her. He had been clear about his intentions and goals since they started all of this, how could she have somehow done what she wasn’t supposed to in that time? How could she spend the rest of her summer with someone she was for sure going to fall in love with, knowing they were only pretending to love you back?

Reaching the top and the car park, she looked behind her at the boys. Harry was looking in her direction, elbows resting on his bent knees, his beer in one of his hands. At the sight, her stomach did a ridiculous dip she could only assume to be elation mixed with disappointment. She stopped, letting her arms fall to her side, staring at Harry as he stared after her. He turned his body a little more in her direction, as if making to walk after her, but she started walking off before he had a chance.

Sunday, 19 July

Y/N was wearing the same mint green bikini she had that time on the beach with Harry’s family. A pale pink oversized Hawaiian print shirt hung over her shoulders, the hem tucked into a pair of denim shorts, something she had cut herself after finding a pair of light washed jeans at Vintage Divine earlier that week. With her window open, she heard when the loud van came to a stop up front. As she looked at herself in the mirror, about to turn around to go look for herself, she heard a familiar voice.

“Y/N!”

Hearing him shout her name both made her insides tingle with delight and her heart hurt in a way it never had before. She walked over to the window, seeing his arm hang out the side of the car. He poked his head out, adjusting the heart shaped sunglasses on his nose as he looked through the door to the Inn, craning his neck as if he couldn’t see clearly.

“Zip it, Dax,” he hissed, taking his sunglasses off his nose to get a better look inside the Inn. “Alright, Bessie? Y/N there?”

“Oh, she’s upstairs still, want me to get her for you?”

“No, I can come up-“

“-I’ll be down in one,” Y/N called, making Harry look up at her right away. She gave him a slight wave, not knowing if a smile was too much after how they left it two days earlier. However, Harry smiled up at her again, holding her gaze till she closed the window and turned to put everything she needed in her bag. Inhaling hugely, she looked at herself in the mirror again, giving herself a nod as if to say she could do this. Meet Harry and be with Harry, pretend they were together when she secretly fancied him, act as if nothing had changed inside her. She could do this.

She put her tote on her shoulder, placing a pair of pink and big cat eye sunglasses on the top of her head before heading out the door.

“Hiya, Bess,” Y/N grinned as she came down the stairs. “Do you like these?” She pointed to her new sunglasses.

Bessie put her glasses on, and Barb who was standing beside her, quickly did the same. “They’re marvellous, dear! Did you get them at Vintage Divine?”

“I did. Saw them and thought they might’ve been something you would’ve worn in the 80s.” Y/N gestured at a photograph behind Bessie, a group of people on Porthminster Beach, someone who looked an awful lot like Bessie sitting in the middle with a pair of large red sunglasses on her face.

Bessie laughed. “I have a whole lot next door.”

“They’d suit you, darling,” Barb smiled.

“Anyway,” Y/N smiled back, pointing with her thumb over her shoulder. “I better head off. Terraland next, and all that.”

“Have fun!” Bessie called as Y/N stepped outside. Harry still sat with the window open, arm hanging out, watching Y/N as she glanced up at him again. He gave her a little smile, his sunglasses on his nose again. She heard knocks on the back window, and when she looked there, Dax, Ellie, Jo and Cameron were all seated there, waving enthusiastically.

“Y/N, mate!” Dax grinned.

Y/N waved just as enthusiastically back at them, her mouth agape and jumping some up and down before she ran to the other side of the car, getting ready to open the sliding doors to enter the back of the car. But Jo pointed to the seat in front of them, and, upon looking at it, Y/N realised Harry had reserved her the front seat as he promised. Though she was taken aback by this, she also reminded herself that it would look stupid if Harry wanted Y/N to sit in the back with his mates instead of up front with him. She despised that though she got to be close to him, it wasn’t the kind of closeness she wanted; it was intentional, but not on the basis of the kind of intentions she secretly hoped. She opened the door and sat in her seat, closing the door and putting her seatbelt on.

“Hi,” Harry said, but it was drowned in the loud greetings from the backseats.

“Hiya,” Y/N looked away from Harry and smiled at the passengers. “You alright?”

“Buzzing, this is gonna be exactly what we need,” Jo said.

“Also,” Ellie started as Harry started driving off, jolting the van more than Y/N thought would’ve been necessary. When she glanced at him, he was staring straight ahead, chewing on the inside of his cheek. She looked back at Ellie. “We should’ve told you Cam was coming, considering what happened last Saturday.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that again, Y/N,” Cameron said. “Hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all,” Y/N assured him. “It’s all good.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Dax said, crossing his arms as he glanced between Cameron and Y/N. “What’s this I haven’t heard of? Is it goss?”

“Nothing major, I just tried chattin’ up Y/N, but she’s obviously with Harry.”

Y/N suddenly felt something hot against her bare knee. Rough skin against hers, squeezing her lightly before he turned his hand around, palm facing upward in a silent and hopeful invitation. Glancing over at him, she saw him still staring straight ahead, on the main road that would lead out of St Ives, his hand now free of the gear stick for the time being. She slid her fingers slowly down his forearm, over the blue veins of his wrist, over the tough skin of his palm, and over his long and slender piano fingers. She pressed down on his hand, seeing how hers fit against his fingers, feeling how good and right this was. As she threaded her fingers through his, she felt her heart leap, growing warm and prickly all over as Harry wrapped his fingers over her hand. Their hands rested on her knee, Victim of Love by Elton John playing through the speakers as they settled against one another, sinking and relaxing into this familiar yet new sensation.

It didn’t seem like the others had even noticed this small and silent interaction between her and Harry. The chatter behind them continued on, unfazed by the falsified intimacy in the front seat. She bit at her bottom lip, reminding herself that Harry only acted like this to convince the rest, and if they just sat statically side by side, they might not be as believable as they were holding hands.

“Did Harry have a go at you for that, Cam?” Dax asked. “He’s the quietest bloke around, doesn’t make a fuss, but he’s very possessive, ain’t that right, big man?” Dax gave Harry’s shoulder a squeeze.

“Fuck off, Dax.”

“See,” Dax said, a smile in his voice as he said, “Such a lovely geezer.”

“I reckon Cameron and Y/N could’ve made a decent couple if-“

“-Jo,” Harry said, voice darker than Y/N had ever heard it. “Absolutely not. Is it ‘piss Harry off’ day?”

“That’s what we call Sundays now,” Dax said, making everyone laugh. When Y/N glanced to her right, Harry was laughing as well, dimples deep and crinkles appearing in the red light from his sunglasses. Butterflies started fluttering their wings in her stomach, so Y/N quickly looked away, feeling her cheeks heat up at the sight of a happy Harry.

It took them 35 minutes to reach Terraland, and five of those were spent driving around the car park in search of Fatima’s white Mini. When they finally found it, Ellie started tapping her nail against the window, repeating her best friend’s name over and over again till Harry parked. Everyone got out of the car as Amir appeared from the Mini, raising his arms above his head.

“Let’s go, crew!” he called, banging his hands against his chest.

“Hi, lovelies,” Fatima smiled, helping Y/N out of the passenger seat. “Love that shirt.”

“Aw, thanks.”

“It’s well lush.”

Y/N hadn’t thought she’d ever hear that voice again. For some reason, she thought it would just have stayed on Porthgwidden Beach, never to come back in any shape or form. But when Y/N looked from Fatima and to her friend’s left, Emilia stood by the passenger side, wearing a cute and short green sundress, her long blonde hair hanging loosely over her shoulders. It took everything in Y/N to prevent her left eye from twitching.

“Hi,” Y/N said, closing the door behind her.

“Love your sunglasses as well,” Emilia continued. “You’re a right fashion icon.”

“Flower,” Harry said from the other side of the car, knocking on the bonnet of the car to get her attention.

She blinked, taking a step backward to look over at Harry. Flower. He must’ve been talking to her – who else would he call by such a tender name? - but it didn’t feel real. When their eyes met though, he gave her a little smile, waving her over so they could walk to the entrance and get a ticket. Y/N gave Emilia and Fatima a polite smile before she walked around the front of the car and toward Harry.

“So,” Y/N started, voice low so they could talk in private. “Emilia is here.”

Harry looked behind them, obviously looking for his ex. “Guess so,” he said, staring ahead again. “Ellie mentioned Cameron asking if she could come.”

“Why?”

“They’re mates.”

“But is she friends with your friends?”

Harry chuckled some. “They’re friendly, they used to be together quite a lot, you know?”

“Being friendly and being friends are two very different things.”

Harry inhaled hugely, glancing at Y/N for a few seconds. “I know you don’t rate Emilia.”

“I try to stay neutral.”

“But you don’t know her.”

“Listen,” Y/N sighed. “I’ve told you this, but from what you’ve said about her-“

“-I know, I know.” Harry shoved his hands into the pockets of his pink and yellow swimming shorts. “I get where you’re coming from now, but just… be nice. We don’t need to make this awkward.”

“I won’t make it awkward,” Y/N said, chinning up. “I will just put gasoline onto her fire if she tries to flirt with you in front of everyone.”

Harry bit his bottom lip, Y/N thought she could see a slight smile there.

“That’s what’ll make it awkward.”

Everyone bought their tickets and once they entered the park, they started straight for one of the pools. A row of palm trees stood on either side as they walked into the adventure park, the screams and rumble from roller coasters and other carousels sounded from everywhere around them along with the hum of pools and water around them, the smell of chlorine and fish and chips in the air. It was a colourful park, Y/N noted, each rollercoaster a different colour and each ride with a long queue standing beside it. Kids ran around, their parents following them, and other gangs of people like the one she accompanied could be found every here and there. A Terraland Radio was playing across the speakers that were hidden away in the palm trees and bushes, some mainstream pop songs that Y/N only knew a few words to but recognised by melody.

Dax led the way to the pool they usually chilled by, finding a few free sunbeds on the second row closest to it, making everyone thank him one by one before sitting down. Harry and Y/N shared a parasol, because Y/N reckoned it would look odd otherwise. She took her shoes off, followed by her shirt and then her shorts. When she looked over in Harry’s direction, he was unbuttoning his own shirt, clumsily finding each button as his gaze rested on her, eyes on her thighs for a split second before he realised she was staring at him. Their eyes met and he looked away, blinking hastily as if he was knocking some sense into himself mentally. Y/N pressed her lips together, trying not to read too much into anything because it wouldn’t lead anywhere good.

She rummaged through her bag and brought out her sunblock, putting some on each of her arms before she started smearing it on.

“Good call,” Fatima said, nodding at the sunblock bottle. “Also, what do you lot call sun lotion?”

“Sunscreen,” Jo said. “And that’s the only correct way of referring to it.”

“Sun lotion,” Fatima and Amir said at the same time, though Amir threw in a cheeky “you daft cow.”

“Sunblock,” Y/N chimed in, putting her foot on her sunbed so she could get it everywhere down her leg.

“Sunscreen,” Emilia exclaimed, letting out a groan afterwards. “It’s obviously the only right one.”

“Sunblock.” It was not as forcefully uttered as the one previous, but Y/N heard it reverberate throughout her entire body. “Gotta agree with Y/N,” Harry said.

“Well, obviously,” Amir laughed. “Or else he won’t be getting any later, yeah?”

“Mate, there you go again. You’re way too invested in other people’s sex life,” Harry said. “It’s creepy.”

“It’s ‘cause he’s not shaggin’ any at the moment.” Dax didn’t seem bothered as he took Amir’s sunblock, putting some on his own chest. “He’s deprived.”

Amir only wiggled his eyebrows at his two friends, making Dax furrow his brows at him. Y/N only chuckled as she finished covering her legs in the sunblock, she didn’t even get to think it herself before she heard a low, “Do you want me to do your back?” behind her.

She glanced over her shoulder at Harry who was standing just behind her under the parasol, a few white spots on his face after not smearing his sunblock properly. Giggling a little she nodded at his face, a smile erupted onto Harry’s face, his dimples deepening.

“What?”

“You’ve got…” She gestured at him.

“I’ve got?”

“Face.”

“I’ve got a face?”

She laughed, bringing her hand to her chest, leaning her head forward a bit and hearing Harry’s tiny giggles in her ear as he joined in.

“You’ve got sunblock on your face,” she elaborated, looking up at him again.

“Fix it.”

She hadn’t expected him to say that, but hearing his slight demand made a hot shiver run up her spine. Without hesitation, she reached up, dabbing the sunblock properly into his skin. She felt him watch her the entire time, his eyes not wavering from her face as she focused on his, smudging the rest of the sunblock down his nose and across his forehead. He reached up, wiping his thumb slowly across her cheek.

“What was that for?” she whispered.

“Sunblock,” Harry answered, but Y/N hadn’t put any on her face yet.

She swallowed thickly. “Can you do my back?”

Harry nodded, taking the bottle from Y/N before she turned around for him. She heard him put some onto his fingers before he touched her upper back. Placing the bottle on the round table attached to the parasol, Harry reached for the strap of her right shoulder, lifting it slightly to get his hand under it. It was instinct that took over when Y/N dug her nails into the palms of her hand, willing herself to calm down, nothing major was happening, he was just applying sunblock to her back. His warm hand stroked over her shoulder, thumb giving her a light caress before he placed her strap back onto her back, moving onto the next shoulder. Again, he lifted her bikini strap, stroking his hand slowly over her skin, making a swarm of butterflies fly wildly around in circles in her lower tummy, places that shouldn’t heat up were heating up. Y/N knew the effect of Harry’s hands on her were visible on her face, but she still prayed no one could tell.

She heard him put even more onto his fingers before he started working on her lower back. The tips of his fingers ran under the body of her bikini top, all the way from her side, over her back, and to the other side. She felt herself inhale, startled in the best way possible to feel him there. He halted, she was sure he was looking up at her; lips parted, eyes hooded. But he continued on, his hands moving down her back. When he reached her bikini bottoms, he was sure not to be disrespectful when he ran his fingertips under the hem as to get every possible surface that could be exposed to the sun today. Another wave of heat ran over her.

“Done,” he said, and Y/N quickly stepped away.

“Want me to do yours?”

Harry nodded and turned around. Y/N sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she put sunblock directly into Harry’s back, watching it stick to his tanned and freckled skin. Putting the bottle away, she smeared each of her hands along his shoulders and shoulder blades, taking her time to both make sure he was fully covered but also because she would never be this up close and personal with him again. She had to be near him now that she had the opportunity to.

She heard a whistle to their left, Jo standing there and raising their eyebrows at them. “Alright, alright, you two.”

Y/N only laughed it off and Harry stayed silent, but she could see a slight pink shade to his neck that hadn’t been there before. She ran her hands over his love handles, taking in how soft they were, and how all of him was just that. Soft. It felt good touching him and she wanted to touch him forever.

She stepped away when she was done, smearing the sunblock left on her hands down her stomach before she put the bottle away. Harry checked his phone, answering a text from Jessa as Y/N sat down on the sunbed, looking over at Fatima who was helping Ellie apply sunblock onto her back.

“Flower,” Harry said, making her heart lurch. “What’re you doing Friday August 7th?”

“Dunno.”

“Would you come to this ‘end of summer’ gathering at the farm?”

She smiled, nodding her head at him and he smiled back, typing away a text before putting his phone away.

Harry turned to Y/N. “Right, the sunblock needs to dry off-“

“-Harry, do you wanna take the Mammoth?” Emilia walked over to them, looking so gorgeous in her red swimming suit that Y/N felt ill. “I remember it’s the only one you’ll actually take ‘cause it’s not so fast.”

“I, uhm…” Harry glanced at Y/N, then at Emilia again. “My sunblock needs to dry some before I can do anything.”

“Alright, but we can take it once it’s dried?” Emilia grinned.

Harry met Y/N’s eyes. “You in?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she pretended to think about it. “Yeah, alright.”

Harry looked to Emilia again, giving her a friendly smile. “I’m just gonna hang here for a bit, we can get the whole lot to go on the water coaster.”

“One’s gotta stay behind with everyone’s stuff, though,” Y/N pointed out.

“Yeah, but that won’t be you,” Harry said. “I might have a panic attack; I need you there.”

Y/N scrunched up her nose as if she didn’t believe Harry, but he only raised his eyebrows, silently daring her to oppose him.

“Fine, we’ll ask someone else to stay behind.”

“Great,” Emilia said before walking off.

Y/N couldn’t help her slight scoff, a breath of a laughter escaping through her nose as she tried to fight a smile to spread across her lips.

“What?” Harry asked, sitting down in his sunbed.

“She’s trying so hard to get close to you. She obviously wants you alone.”

Harry was quiet for a moment, as if he was examining that whole moment all over again. “Getting me alone won’t change anything.”

Y/N glanced at him. “Oh?”

They held each other’s gaze, Harry’s dimples deepening with each second passing. “You act unbothered, but you’re very nosey.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open. “Harry!”

He giggled, looking straight ahead at the pool where Dax was diving headfirst, Cameron stood clapping on the side, cheering him on. For a minute or two, none of them said anything, both relaxing in the cooling shade of the orange parasol.

“So,” Y/N started, Harry’s eyes falling on her as she continued to watch their friends play in the pool. “Are you gonna go on the water coaster? Didn’t think you liked roller coasters.”

“I don’t,” Harry answered truthfully, putting a hand behind his head as he leaned back against the sunbed. “But… are you gonna go?”

“On the Mammoth?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Harry nodded. “Then I will, too.”

Y/N looked over at Harry, but quickly averted her eyes when she saw he was already looking. She detected a slight lift to the edges of his lips in her peripheral vision, but, for the sake of her own sanity, she tried to ignore it. Y/N watched as Ellie ran from her sunbed and to the rest of the gang, squealing as she cannonballed into the pool. Amir stood howling with laughter as Fatima was once again soaked with chlorine where she sat on the side of the poolside, gasping and cursing Ellie once her friend returned to the surface. 

With her eyebrows raised, Y/N glanced at Harry again, but he didn’t seem to know what she was getting at till she stood up from the sunbed. She ran for the pool, weaving through people to get to their friends. Just as she was about to jump, she felt something on her waist. She looked over her shoulder just in time to catch Harry, wrapping his arms around her torso and bringing her skin flush against his. She screamed as Harry threw her off her feet, turning the two around as he jumped, back first. A short scream was heard before the two disappeared together, floating in the crystal clear and blue water. She felt him let go of her, pushing her toward the surface. Once she was up again, swimming towards the side of the pool, she looked behind her just as Harry came up for air, shaking his head to get the water out of his hair.

“Twat,” she said.

Harry grinned, reaching for her ankle.

“No!”

He dragged her toward him, but she splashed him, preventing him from doing whatever he was about to. Quickly, she swam for the edge of the pool, jumping up to sit there as Harry followed her. She couldn’t help her smile, feeling so incredibly giddy to see him watching her, touching her, being with her. Never before had she just felt so happy by the mere presence of another; maybe something happened in the air around them when they were together, or maybe there was a special kind of cellular reaction when they touched, but Y/N never wanted this to end. She knew it was all pretend, knew he was only doing this to further this fake relationship, but she would bask in it till it was over. And when it was over in August, she’d deal with the heartbreak then.

Harry reached her, a hand wrapping around her ankle and squeezing lightly.

“No,” Y/N chuckled. “I’m ticklish.”

“I know.”

Harry put a hand on each side of her figure before he slowly got up, resting his soaking body against her legs. It was hard to fight her want to look down at his lips, knowing that right about now they were probably wet and pinker than she had ever seen them before. They hadn’t even talked about that kiss on the beach a few days ago, it didn’t feel like it had been acknowledged at all. In a way Y/N was glad it hadn’t come up because the conversation would most likely be very awkward, but she couldn’t go on like this. They had to set a few boundaries for the rest of the summer, and though they were getting very comfortable around each other like best friends did, she couldn’t be kissing him. She just couldn’t. Because her head and her heart were telling her two very different things, and she knew for certain that if he were to kiss her again, she would fall in love with him. That was if she wasn’t well on the way to doing that already. But kissing him didn’t exactly help her from not feeling these kinds of things for him.

However, when Harry’s eyes scanned her lips and sucked his own into his mouth and between his teeth, Y/N suddenly forgot everything she had just been thinking about. He made it incredibly hard not to want to kiss him. With a sigh he pushed off and sat down beside her, watching as Dax jumped onto Jo’s back, trying to wrestle them under water.

After a little while, Y/N went back up to sunbathe, Fatima and Ellie joining her not long after that. Though Y/N knew she shouldn’t, she kept an eye on the pool where Harry, Cameron, Jo, Dax, Amir, and Emilia were all having fun. Emilia wasn’t touching up Harry, though Y/N did notice her looking over in his direction a little too often for it to be just a friend checking up on a friend. However, Emilia’s feelings were none of Y/N’s concern, and if she kept it to herself till Y/N and Harry “broke up” in August, then Y/N wouldn’t say anything. Well… she would be annoyed, but it all ultimately depended on what Harry wanted, so it was all out of her hands anyway.

Ellie and Jo stayed put as the rest went to go take the water coaster. It took them about 15 minutes to just stand in the queue and wait for their turn, but in that time, they divided the uneven group into a gang of three and another of four. Amir, Emilia, Harry, and Y/N would be in one while Fatima, Cameron, and Dax would take the other. This proved to not be the craziest of rides seeing as loads of kids and their parents were in the queue with the group, but Y/N hadn’t taken too many roller coasters in her life, so she appreciated the easing in. And, once it was finally their turn, Y/N found herself having an amazing time. Looking over at Harry every once in a while, he didn’t seem to be as terrified as he claimed to be. The water splashed around them, and as they reached the pool at the end of the ride, Y/N fell off the inflatable boat. Harry laughed but followed her, making sure she was alright before the two of them swam to the edge of the pool

The two of them went back to their sunbeds after that, letting Ellie and Jo run and join the rest of the group while they took the SuperSplash. Though Y/N was sure she would quite like the SuperSplash, she also knew Harry wasn’t the biggest fan of rollercoasters and she was here because of him. The two just sat there in silence for the next half an hour and some, only occasionally exchanging a few words, but quickly and comfortably falling back into a pleasant quiet. At some point, Y/N almost dozed off, a small and sleepy moan leaving her lips as it usually did when she almost fell asleep. She heard a chuckle beside her and when she opened her eyes to look over at Harry, he was shaking with restrained laughter. She leaned over and swatted his bicep, making Harry laugh even more.

Everyone came back not too long after that and they all went for a snack. Harry and Y/N each got their fish and chips – just chips for Y/N - walking back to their sunbeds to eat because Harry needed to inject insulin before he could start eating.

Ellie sat down with Y/N on Y/N’s sunbed so the two of them could have a chat while eating. Y/N noticed how Harry was stood beside her sunbed all of a sudden, talking to Fatima who laid sunbathing still, and when Y/N glanced to Harry’s sunbed, Emilia was sitting at the edge of it, chatting to Cameron who was on the sunbed beside Harry’s. She hated that she felt like laughing, a stupid sort of victorious feeling erupting in her chest.

With their bellies full and ready for new adventures, Dax suggested some other rides that Harry didn’t want to tag along on. However, he assured Y/N it was fine if she wanted to, so she said yes, but regretted it the second Emilia volunteered to stay back with Harry. Y/N knew Harry didn’t need her to babysit him, he knew how to handle and talk to his ex, but she still hated the fact that the two of them were staying put while the rest went off to have fun. For the short minute they were on the water ride, Y/N forgot about Harry and Emilia, simply enjoying herself and laughing along with the rest of her new friends. But when they came back and Emilia was laughing, she sat beside Harry on his sunbed and was looking at him in a way that made Y/N’s stomach drop.

Harry must’ve heard Dax’s loud voice, because he got up from the sunbed and started walking toward them, not looking behind him.

“What’re we doing next?” he asked, looking at Y/N who hadn’t expected his eagerness to do another ride, but she appreciated it nevertheless.

“Sky Swinger,” Cameron said, giving Harry’s shoulder a squeeze. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered, though Y/N could hear a reluctance in his voice that she didn’t think Cameron or anyone else really did. Dax must’ve, because he wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulder and they started walking in the direction of the Sky Swinger.

Y/N didn’t bother looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was sitting back to watch all their stuff along with Emilia, because, at this point, it was quite clear what Emilia wanted to do. It made Y/N so very mad that someone thought they could remove themselves completely from someone’s life because they were going through a hard time, and then expect to go back to how things used to be now that they weren’t as broken up anymore. Part of her wanted to give Emilia the benefit of the doubt, but she didn’t like how Harry’s ex was acting right now and, by the looks of Harry’s eagerness to get away from her, he was starting to maybe put two and two together as well.

“This, your sensor,” Y/N asked as they stood in the queue for the Sky Swinger. “It’s waterproof?”

“Yeah, or else I wouldn’t be here,” Harry gave her a little smile.

“Isn’t it hard to regulate your blood sugar when you’re running about like this?”

“Yeah, since I’m active it can drop quite quickly, but we just ate and I just injected, so I’ll be fine for the time being.”

Y/N nodded, dropping her voice some as she said. “I feel like I should know more about this.”

“About what?”

“Type 1 diabetes, any type, really.”

“You don’t have to.”

She met his eyes. “I want to. It’s a big part of your life so I want to understand, and it’s not your job to teach me how it works.”

He held her gaze for a second, about to say something when Dax chanted something, making everyone follow him to take their seats. There hadn’t been visible regret on Harry’s face till that very moment. Y/N sat down in a seat and Harry sat down in the one closest to her, looking over at Amir who took the seat in front of his. From previous experiences, Y/N knew Harry wasn’t afraid of heights, but by the looks of how nervous he was now, she suspected he might be afraid of losing control; of not being in total control.

Someone came to check if their belts were fastened properly, and again, Y/N glanced over at Harry who was staring straight ahead, wide-eyed.

“Hey,” Y/N said, catching Harry’s attention right away. “Look at me, yeah?”

He swallowed, holding onto the chain on either side of him.

“Just look at me.”

And as they took off, that was exactly what Harry did. He looked at Y/N, kept his eyes on her the entire time they were in the air. However much she wanted to reach over and comfort Harry, she was absolutely loving the entire ride. She was grinning from ear to ear, throwing her head back sometimes and just relishing in the feeling of the wind blowing through her hair, the warm summer air hitting her face at a comfortable pace, making it possible to see the orange afternoon sun. When she looked at Harry again, he was still staring at her, having taken her advice to look at her seriously. Part of her felt very giddy about that.

When they were done with the ride, Harry’s hands were shaking slightly so Y/N came over to help him with his seatbelt. He rose and fell against her, hugging her to him.

“Hey, you,” Y/N cooed, rubbing his back. “You’re okay.”

She felt him breathe against her neck, his hot skin flush against all of her own, and it took absolutely everything in her not to close her eyes and enjoy this moment like she usually would’ve. It was clear that, no matter how small the rollercoaster, Harry had not enjoyed that one bit. So, Y/N continued to rub his back, repeating “you’re okay” over and over till it seemed he believed her.

After that, the group dried off and started getting ready to head back to St Ives. Everyone exchanged different stories from the day, recreating stupid faces someone had made on a ride or sulking over other ones they didn’t get to but would have to save for next year. They started making their way back to the car park, Fatima strolling beside Y/N and Jo quickly joining in on the conversation. It felt so natural to be with them now that it seemed almost unreal that at some point she would not only have to break up with Harry, but in a way, she would have to break up with her little gang as well. She wouldn’t even get the proper opportunity to say goodbye to everyone, she would just have to leave. Out of all of them, it would be hardest to say goodbye to Harry, but his family, Bessie, the knitting club, and her new friends, would also take a lot out of her.

They all sat down in Harry or Fatima’s car, waving at each other as they drove off. Everyone was still excitedly chatting amongst themselves, going over each of the events of the day again, Dax talking and laughing the loudest out of everyone. Even Harry seemed to be continuously smiling, loving the atmosphere in the van. Though everyone was  tired, they were even more eager to talk for the little while they were still together, which made the volume in the car intolerable at times, but Y/N enjoyed herself nevertheless.

As Harry dropped more and more people off, Y/N quickly realised that the last person he would be driving back was her. The last 15 minutes were therefore spent trying to figure out how best to bring everything up, how to talk about the kiss and that she would appreciate them not kissing again. After all, if he kissed her one more time, it would only make her fall in love with him. That first kiss had been enough to make her realise that she did indeed fancy him, but since Harry was only doing this as part of their fake relationship, she wouldn’t be able to take it any longer.

Harry stopped outside the Inn, putting the car in park before he turned to look at her, giving her a small smile as the orange sun shone in on them, about to slide down over the horizon behind her.

“You liked Terraland?” Harry enquired, sitting back in his seat and turning his upper body in her direction.

“It was so much fun.”

“Yeah? You’d wanna do it again?”

Y/N smiled at him. “Don’t think we’d have the time to go there again before the summer ends, at least not all of us.”

Harry let out a slight huff, nodding his head some before putting the heart shaped sunglasses on the top of his head. “You’re right. We’ll have to do it again next summer.”

It took absolutely every single shred of self-control not to look away as she said, “You lot will have an absolute blast.”

It took two seconds before Harry caught on and understood what she was implying, and when he did, he opened his mouth as if to say something, but Y/N beat him to it.

“Harry, listen…” She inhaled, looking down at the gear stick between them. “We need to talk about what happened the other day.”

He blinked a few times before nodding, staying quiet because he knew her well enough to know she wasn’t done speaking.

“About… the beach, and the kiss, and… us- this.”

“Our relation- Our fake relationship.”

“Exactly.”

He nodded again, watching her intensely.

“As lovely as that kiss was… I don’t think we should do that again,” she said, trying to sound as considerate as possible. If Harry wanted them to kiss in front of their friends to further prove that they were “together”, then Y/N would feel bad about cancelling that plan of his. However, she had to do this.

“What…” Harry furrowed his brows some before he regained his composure. “What do you mean?”

“Well, uhm…” She met his eyes again. “I don’t want to kiss you.” Not like that.

Slowly, his lips parted, and he tipped his head to the side, as if properly contemplating her words. He glanced away from her, eyes on the beach behind her and then on the dashboard.

“Okay… I just… I thought…” Harry shut his mouth, shaking his head slightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, no.” She shook her head. “We weren’t clear on boundaries and such before we even started, we didn’t set any rules.”

“But I didn’t do something you didn’t want me to today, right?” he asked, talking fast as if he was afraid of the answer. “At the water park?”

“No.”

He nodded, placing his back against his seat and staring at the street in front of him. As he thought, his hands rested between his legs, thumb sliding over the other while he seemed to be contemplating everything that had happened the last few days. “You want rules then?”

She pressed her lips together as she regarded him. “Maybe. Just one.”

“No kissing?”

“Yeah, that one.”

“What about the party, Dax’s birthday?” Harry furrowed as he thought back on it. “When I kissed your cheek.”

“That’s fine, just… no kissing now. Especially not on the lips.” She tried to laugh a bit after that, but it sounded forced and not at all like herself. “They’ve seen it once now, so whatever happens we’ve done it once.”

Harry’s frown deepened and he looked over at her. “What, who's seen what?”

“Dax and Amir,” Y/N explained. “They saw us kiss. We kind of established what we set out to do, they believe us now.”

“Right,” Harry said, voice low as he looked at the road again, nodding slightly. “You’re right. We’re believable now.��

“Exactly.”

Harry inhaled, looking down at his hands. “There’s a barbeque at the farm next Saturday, if you wanna come.”

She smiled, watching him for a few more seconds before saying, “I thought there was gonna be a barbeque on August 7th?”

“That’s the ‘end of summer’ party where basically most of the people we are close to in St Ives are invited, I usually play some piano, and we eat loads of food, because Jessa likes feeding people.”

Y/N laughed; she saw a slight smile appear on Harry’s face as well. “Okay, so the ‘end of summer’ party is in two weeks, and barbeque next Saturday.”

“Yeah. And there will be no kisses on the menu. Sorry ‘bout that.”

She only smiled at him, waiting till he looked up at her before talking. “It’s okay, Harry. Let’s just… not kiss again, yeah?”

He nodded his head, biting his bottom lip. Y/N reached for her tote bag, putting it over her shoulder as she opened the passenger side door, giving Harry a grin when she was outside.

“Thanks for today, H.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

Y/N closed the door and walked in front of the car, standing by the entrance to the Inn when Harry pulled the car out of park and drove off a little faster than he normally would. She watched him till he was out of sight, feeling both happy that they wouldn’t do anything that could maybe make her fall harder for him, and sad that they wouldn’t at the same time. She wanted to kiss Harry. Wanted to kiss him so badly that she felt completely numb as the knowledge that she would never kiss him again washed over her. It was emptying her of everything but the memory of Harry’s lips against hers, his hand on her neck, their souls connecting, detaching, and reconnecting again with each peck, each stroke of their tongues, each frantic exhale. Instinctively, she reached up, resting her hand against her lips, hoping to find some traces of Harry there that she could hold onto when a time came where he wasn’t a physical reality of hers anymore.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 11 October, 9PM GMT!

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[spencessmile]

How Much You’ll Love The Right One

Pairing - (Platonic) Spencer Reid x Fem Reader 

Summary - Spencer promises you, that you'll find love again. You don't want another love, you want him. 

Warnings - None 

Word Count - 2,011 words 

And all imagines/fanfics/blurbs are written solely by me so please don't steal my work and post it without my consent. 

Feedback and Comments are welcome. Happy reading! 

Requests are open!

** 

Spencer and you have been friends for over 14 years so when Spencer didn't hear from you in over two weeks, he was worried. He just got back from LA from a case and rushed to your apartment when you hadn’t answered any of his calls. 

You were the type of person to call Spencer several times throughout the day but when he didn’t hear from you in two weeks, this mind went racing to all the worst-case scenarios. You lived 10 minutes away from Spencer’s apartment but Spencer felt like the drive was taking forever. 

Heartbreak sucked. You found out a week ago that your boyfriend of two years was cheating on you and when you found out you completely lost your mind, to say the least. 

This was the second time you were cheated on and it broke you. You sat here for two weeks and thought of every single reason why you weren’t good enough. Why did you always end up heartbroken? Did you do something wrong? Did you say something wrong? Did you not love people enough? Were you not loveable? 

All these questions and you still had no answers. 

You sat on your couch, mounted with pillows and blankets while old movie reruns were playing on TV. You didn’t know where the hell your phone was but you heard it vibrating, again. 

You knew it was Spencer calling you for the hundredth time. You hadn’t called him in two weeks so you knew that he’d be worried about you. You knew that Spencer was probably away on a case because if he was here he would have burst through your door by now. 

You talked to Spencer about everything and anything that came to your mind but this was something you weren’t ready to talk about. You wanted to push all your feelings aside and not think about anything. 

You got up and walked to your fridge, opened your freezer pulling out the ice cube tray. You froze in your position as you heard your door lock being messed with. Your eyes wandered towards the clock, that read 12:22 A.M. 

Who the hell is trying to break in your apartment? What the hell should you do? Who could it be? And where was your phone?

You stood quietly in your kitchen as the person continued to play with the locks. You put down the ice tray and ran into your bedroom, grabbing your baseball bat. You shut the lights and stayed a good distance away from the door as the locks were being opened. As the door swung open you thought your heart was going to explode from inside your chest. 

Just as you saw the shadow inch closer into your apartment, you were about to swing your bat. 

“FBI! SHOW ME YOUR HANDS!” You hear a familiar voice yell. You sigh, lowering your baseball ball. “I said, show me your hands! Now!” 

“Relax Dr. Reid,” You said, turning on the lights. “It’s just me,” As you turned to face Spencer but he still had his gun pointed at you. “Spencer, your gun!” Spencer put his gun in his holster. 

“You're okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, why would I be?” 

“You haven’t been answering any of my calls. I thought something happened to you,” Spencer said. “You have two weeks worth of mail piled in front of your door. Chris said he remembered you leaving a few days ago but doesn’t remember you coming back,” Spencer closed the door. “I thought you were hurt or even worse, kidnapped.” 

Chris, was your apartment complex manager. 

“I wouldn’t mind being kidnapped.” You say. 

You knew that you couldn’t hide anything from Spencer because out of all the people in the world you could have run into on the Metro, it had to be with a profiler, just your luck.  

“Y/N,” Spencer glared at you. You weren’t good at dealing with emotions so you tended to make jokes or laugh at everything and if there was one thing Spencer didn’t like about you, it was that one trait of yours. “Y/N, I was worried about you. I would have come earlier but I was in LA working on a case. Why have you been avoiding me?” Spencer asked, his eyes soft and his voice laced with concern. 

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” You couldn’t even look at Spencer while saying that. 

“Yes, you are,” You folded his arms and looked at you. You knew exactly what he was doing and you didn’t like it. “You're avoiding eye contact and you're pulling at the sleeves of your sweater.” 

“Stop doing that.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Profiling me.” 

“Y/N, I’m not pr-” 

“Yes, you are! I don’t need you doing that to me right now. I just need my best friend,” Your eyes started welling up. Spencer’s face expressions softened as he walked up to you. He grabbed your hand and led you to the couch. He turned to face you as your tears fell. 

You're not sure how long has passed but you know you were ready to talk about. You have to let out your feelings otherwise you’ll drown in them. You lifted your head and got up from the couch. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head. “It’s okay. How about we just watch some TV and you can tell me whenever you’re comfortable, alright?” You nodded as you put your head on Spencer’s shoulder. 

“If I’m going to talk about this then I need mint chip ice cream. You down for a pint?” 

“Absolutely,” Spencer replies. “I’ll get it.” You nod as he walks to the kitchen. You mentally prepare yourself to tell Spencer everything. “Here you are.”

You grab the pint and shove a spoonful into your mouth. Spencer turns to fully face you and just patiently waits until you're ready. 

“He cheated on me.” 

You felt Spencer’s eyes snap up. 

“Y/N, I’m s-” 

“Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault. He was an ass, I should have known better.” 

“This isn’t your fault.” 

“Is there something wrong with me?” Spencer frowned at your question.

“Absolutely not.” 

You felt yourself starting to cry again. “Then why don’t people love me?”

“People do love you.” 

“If they did, then they wouldn’t leave or cheat on me. All my life all I ever seen people do is walk away from me. No one has ever decided to stay by my side. No one ever decided to stay and love me through all my good and bad.”

“I stayed,” Spencer replies. “I love you.” 

“That’s because you kept following me everywhere,” You joked, as you remember back to all the times that you Spencer kept bumping into each other after that one time on the Metro. Anyone could say it was straight out of a movie. 

“No, you kept following me everywhere.” Spencer playfully argues back. 

“I mean, what were the changes that we kept seeing each other everywhere? Who knew that we liked the same coffee, read books from the same library, and even ride the same Metro every single morning and night at the same time?"

“Actually, according to a recent study, the chances of meeting a stranger more than once is like 1 in 10,000. So the chances are very slim. But I guess you just got really lucky with me,” You laughed at the last part of his answer. Spencer grabbed your hand. “I’m sorry that he ch-” 

“Spencer stop,” You felt your emotions starting to take over again, as your eyes started to blur your vision. You sat there holding Spencer’s hand while you just cried out all your emotions. 

“You have to let him go.” 

“I know,  I know …” You say, grabbing a pillow and hugging it. 

“Then do it.” 

“I know that he hurt me. I really want to let this go but I’ve always tried hard to keep this relationship together for almost 3 years. It sucks to let go of something that I've had together for so long.” 

“I know it’s hard for you but, you deserve to let him go so that you can be happy again. It’s time to make yourself happy.” 

You sniffle and look up at Spencer, taking a couple of deep breaths. 

“I need you to be okay because I miss my best friend. The extremely annoying and over-hyper one. The one that calls me over a hundred times a day to tell me every little thing she does in a day. The one that goes to my apartment and waters my plants every other day and leaves me baked goods when she knows that I’m coming back home. The one that drags me out of bed on weekends I have off to go do something absolutely insane.” 

“Spencer Reid you better be talking about me,” You said glaring at him. 

“What if I’m not?” Now he was playing with you. 

“You're not allowed to have a new best friend.” 

“Why not?” 

“No,” He shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to replace you.” 

“Because I’m supposed to be your only best friend.” Spencer laughed as you pouted. “Do you have a new friend?”

“You better not. I know where you live and work.” Spencer just laughs. 

“You know I was really worried when you weren’t responding back to me. I thought something really bad happened.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” You said. “Spencer you had your partner come and bolt in 3 extra locks to my front door, you set up an alarm system and you installed a camera outside my apartment. No burglar would want to do that much work just to seal some stuff from an apartment. Besides, any brugler who makes all the effort to get through those locks, it’ll be their loss because I don’t have shit in this apartment for them to steal,” You and Spencer laugh. “Unless they want my coffee maker or toaster oven.” 

“So, what did you do?” Spencer raised his eyebrow at you. 

“What did I do?” You ask. Spencer gave you the -oh-come-on-you-know-what-I’m-talking-about face and you sighed. 

“I went to the grocery store, bought a dozen eggs, and egged his house,” You reply. 

“No Y/N, you egged his house?!” You nodded, feeling sort of proud of doing that. 

“You could have waited for me to come back home,” You looked at Spencer, surprised. 

“Oh, don’t give me that face Spencer,” You spoke. “He was an ass. He deserved to have his house egged. Besides he is very lucky I didn’t key his new Porsche that was standing in the driveway, I was very tempted.” 

“You wanted to egg his house too?” 

“Of course, I would have wanted too. He hurt my best friend.” 

“Oh a lot of people have hurt your best friend so in that case, you still have a lot of houses to egg. Maybe tomorrow we wrap his house in toilet paper.” 

“Maybe we can,” Spencer turned serious for a second. “Hey, I know it’ll take you a while to get over this relationship but I want you to know that if you loved the wrong this much, imagine how much you’ll love the right one. I promise you; this time love will walk to your doorstep and you’ll know immediately.” 

I already know. 

You're sitting right in front of me, holding my hand. 

How much I need you. 

It’s just that I can never tell you how much I love you.  

** 

But you've slipped under my skin, invaded my blood, and seized my heart. – Maria V. Snyder, Poison Study

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x fluff #bau x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds masterlist

[twdmusicboxmystery]

10x22: Here’s Negan - Details

All right. Here are a LOT of details. 

***As always, spoilers abound below for 10x22. Don’t read until you’ve watched!***

We start with Maggie and Hershel walking around Alexandria early in the morning. She calls him “a little rat” affectionately, which I’m side eying. Because of Carol’s rat last episode and because we already established parallels between Hershel and Beth from ep 17 in that he went missing and Maggie and Daryl searched for him.

Then they sing “you are my sunshine” together, which is the same song Carl sang Negan. Because the sun is a Beth symbol, we’ve always seen her in that song. I also wonder if it foreshadows Maggie losing Hershel in some way. I don’t mean him dying, but rather being kidnapped. A lot of us have thought about one or some of the kids being taken at some point, and their parents having to search for them.  

Carol looks out a broken window (Broken Glass Theory) and sees the exchange. So, she leaves Alexandria and takes Negan with her.

Actually, the next thing we see is a dead rabbit she pulls from a snare. The rabbit is SUPER interesting. I answered an Ask HERE about the moon rabbit, and I really love this explanation of the symbol. It makes perfect sense for Beth because the moon rabbit sacrificed itself, which is exactly what Father Gabriel said cryptically in 5x16. “How you sacrificed one of your own….”

Plus the Moon rabbit is resurrected and combines the moon symbol and the rabbit symbol.

So what does it mean in this context? 

Well, I still don’t want to go into too much detail, though I will soon. (I promise.) But if rabbit = Beth, I think this is yet another example of symbolism that points to Negan and Beth having a big arc together later. (And Carol will probably be thrown into the mix.)

That evening, Negan drinks by the fire. What he’s drinking is clearly moonshine. It’s from one of those big glass moonshine bottles. I don’t know where he got it. I looked a second time at the stuff they left for him, and it might be in there, but if so, it isn’t visible. It would certainly be interesting if Daryl left him moonshine, but I don’t see any super-obvious hint at that. If it’s already there in the cabin, well, that’s Leah’s cabin, so….

This is where he sees his old self from the trailer. Some of the dialogue jumps out at me as things Daryl might say about himself. Evil Negan says to his good self, “You are nothing without her.” That sort of thing.

The next day he goes back to the tree with the stained-glass windows where Rick cut his throat. One of the plate glass windows has a hole in it and the other one is lying on the ground. 

My go-to explanation of course is that the one with the hole represents the bullet hole in Beth’s head. (We actually said this of the stained-glass window in Father Gabriel’s church that Sasha shoots a hole in in 5x16 as well.) And I always see someone falling down as a serious injury. So, when Beth belly-flopped in the elevator shaft with Noah, that was a foreshadow of her getting shot. So I’m kind of seeing the window lying flat on the ground in the same way.

Of course, Negan digs up Lucille, and then it goes into the flashbacks.

It starts of course with him being a prisoner of the biker gang. We do think this gang is a parallel of the Claimers from S4. Remember that I said, overall, Negan = Daryl, right? So, this guy (Craven) even kind of looks like Joe Claimer. They dress in a similar fashion, are rough-and-tumble kind of dudes. But also, Negan runs into them after he loses Lucille. He doesn’t realize she’s died at that point, but she has. Just like Daryl ran into the Claimers after being separated from Beth in Alone.

And we immediately see a blue cooler with IV bags inside. They’re Lucille’s chemo treatments. So blue cooler/Frosty Cola symbolism. Plus this can parallel to 6x06 when Daryl accidentally took off with Tina’s medicine when he met Dwight. Basically, these are both pointing to the same thing: a future arc involving Daryl and Beth. There are also 22s on the IV bags. So, 22 theory.

I will say that the format of this episode is a lot like 10x18 because so much of it is flashback. They even use the same font to show the time jumps. The main difference is that with Daryl, they started 5 years ago and then jumped forward, toward the present. Here, they actually move backward first and then forward again.

So it’s like a swinging pendulum. They go back 12 years to where he’s a prisoner of the bikers. Then it goes back 6 weeks to when he’s with Lucille in their home , and then it jumps back again to before the apocalypse when she first found out she had cancer, which was right about the time the turn happened. And then it moves forward to the two of them together in the house, and then back to him with the bikers.

Okay, so, “12 Years Ago” he’s telling his story to the bikers.

Then it actually says “Two or Three Days Ago” and it’s odd to me that they don’t specify which one it is. Negan says he found the mobile medical clinic 2 or 3 days ago, but there’s got to be a reason they don’t just go with one or the other. Anyway, this is when he found an RV with supplies. He tries to hold the doctor up and Laura (Savior) comes up behind him with a bat and hits him.

We also get a bit of a hallucination theme. When Negan looks at the RV and the dummy guards on the roof, his sight sort of warps in and out like he can’t tell for sure. When he wakes up, he’s also hooked to an IV. (Parallel to Beth at Grady.) The doctor says he was dehydrated, malnourished, and exhausted. So maybe, in addition to all the mental break stuff we’ve already said about Daryl in 10x18, we should add these to the list.

“Six Weeks Earlier” and it shows him and Lucille. The first thing we see is that she tells him he’ll have to kill the walker but he doesn’t want to. He just turns off the generator, hoping it will go.

So, she makes him read Pride and Prejudice to her. The Pride and Prejudice thing is really interesting. He only reads a line or two, but anyone familiar with the story will be able to pick out the scene. Basically, in the story, a man asks Lizzie to marry him and she rejects him. He doesn’t love her or anything. He’s just looking for a “suitable” wife, and she can’t stand him. After she rejects him, her best friend marries him instead. And this friend doesn’t care that it’s not a love match. She just wants to be settled in life.

So the scene Negan reads part of is where the friend, Charlotte, is coming to tell Lizzie that she’s marrying him instead. This is the part Negan reads:

"I see what you are feeling," replied Charlotte. "You must be surprised, very much surprised--so lately as Mr. Collins was wishing to marry you. But when you have had time to think it over…”

Here’s the thing. No way they’re putting dialogue from such a well-known book like this into the show without reason. And I know they said on TTD that it’s supposed to be an Easter Egg for Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. Fair enough, but it’s not enough of an explanation for me. In the past, there have been things Nicotero has labelled as homages to various horror films, and I’m sure that’s true, but they’re also clearly Beth symbolism.

So, you could say that Pride and Prejudice and Zombies applies to Negan and Lucille. It’s a true love story, but zombies are thrown in. That works. But why this particular passage? It’s about NOT marrying for love, or the passing of a man’s offer of marriage from one woman to another. None of that applies to Negan and Lucille. It would have made more sense to have him read a different passage between Lizzie and Darcy, you know?

So, what does this mean? We’re not entirely sure, yet. For me, I tend to think it foreshadows a future arc (I’m sure you’re shocked) and I’ll get more into that in the next few days.

@wdway​ suggested perhaps we could apply it to the Leah situation. Daryl is in love with one woman, but hallucinating a relationship with another. I think that works, too. For now, let’s just keep it in mind, shall we? ;D

Dialogue parallels include Lucille saying, “we’ll have to kill it,” which parallels Beth saying the same thing about the walker at the moonshine shack.

And of course then we get that all important scene with the green wig, “serious” mention, IV stand and bag, and walker in the eye.

We see Negan going out to look for more gas for the generator, siphoning it out of cars.

We also see them having fun together. Obviously them playing darts is a callback to Still. The part where they play darts is actually just like half a second in the show, which just goes to show that they did the promo shot because they wanted us to see the symbols in the scene. I want to draw everyone’s attention to the fact that the British flag is printed on the darts. This is part of the template I’ll talk about in a day or two as well. For now, I just want you to notice it. It’s important.

When they do the candlelight dinner (*coughs alone*) they eat DOG food. Sirius reference. She suddenly says “happy anniversary” and pulls out a present for him. He says, “You know what day it is?” and she says, “no, I just wanted you to have this.” So I think the idea is that it’s not really their anniversary. She just said that as an excuse to give him a present. It reminded me a little of the “New Years Eve” theme we saw around the Claimers. Not exactly the same, but a similar vibe. It’s not REALLY New Year’s Eve. They’re just saying it as an excuse to do something else (in that case, kill Rick). Here, it’s not really their anniversary, but Lucille is saying that as an excuse to give him the jacket.

When Negan says she doesn’t owe him anything Lucille says, “I stuck with you because I could always see the man you are right now, even when you weren’t.” So again, kind of a Beth theme of seeing the best in him even when he doesn’t see it in himself. That’s a huge theme throughout this episode.

There’s more refrigerator/cooler symbolism when the fridge defrosts, ruining the last of Lucille’s treatments.

Then it jumps back to before the apocalypse. There were some symbols here as well. The main ones I noticed were specifically around Lucille. After her diagnosis, she gets in the car and hears the broadcast about the virus victims eating human flesh. Kind of a callback to hearing the Terminus broadcast in 4a.

Then she gets mad and says, just play some g**d*** music. (Music reference.) When the car pulls out, you have to check out this license plate!

XVD-1144. The 1-1 you should recognize from @frangipanilove’s 1-1 posts. The 44 references the comic book issue where Andrea was shot in the head, and survived. And of course there’s the X. So then @wdway had the ingenious idea to ask what roman numerals X and D stood for. X=5 and D=500. So we basically have “X, 550, 1-1, 44.” Yeah, series number 55 was Slabtown. Beth was on the 5th floor. And all the rooms around them in the hallway at Grady were in the 550s. If that’s not proof that Lucille is a Beth proxy, I don’t know what is.

Plus, notice the type of car: mustang. We’ve talked about this before, but horse symbolism, and the type of car is always important.

Another thing @wdway​ with her eagle eyes picked up. Lucille is scrolling back and forth between Negan and Janine’s numbers, right? Notice the date:

November 12. Recognize that:

Yeah, not kidding. It’s a reference to the headstone in Alone. 👀

Back in the future again, Lucille asks Negan to stay with her. You don’t realize this the first time watching it, but clearly she’s ready to die, and just wants him to be with her, but he’s bound and determined to save her, an goes anyway.

A couple of things to point out. Negan looking for meds parallels to Daryl looking for meds at the veterinary college in 4a. Also, on TTD they pointed out that Negan is constantly putting Lucille in a position to be alone. Before the apocalypse, he left her alone to fool around with another woman, who was her best friend. He made her go to the doctor alone. (Lucille alone at the hospital could = Beth at Grady.) We see him constantly leaving her here to get supplies. And he leaves for like 6 six weeks to track the mobile clinic.

I think that’s mostly an anti-parallel to Daryl. Daryl never left Beth intentionally. But I also think it could be a future theme, not in the sense that Daryl will leave her, but I’ve always thought he would feel super guilty because they left her behind and now she’s been “alone” for 8 years. And again, not physically alone as we know she’ll be part of other groups and such, but without him and her family.

Back with the medical people again, Laura gives Negan her bat, the one she first beaned him with, since he doesn’t have any other weapons.

All they said about Laura on TTD was that they wanted to use her—someone the audience would recognize—but also someone who had a relatively minor role. So they talked about how they could have brought Austin Amelio on and had Dwight give it to him, but because Dwight is a bigger character, and because his onscreen relationship with Negan was much bigger, it would have made it a Negan/Dwight moment and they wanted to keep this episode focused solely on Negan and Lucille. So they used Laura.

And sure, that’s fine. But they could have used any Savior they wanted. And why did they even WANT a familiar face? Why the return of the Savior with the blond hair, you know? I’m just saying. ;D

Of course Negan tells the biker gang where the medical RV is and then goes back to Lucille, but she’s already dead. This really was a very tragic episode.

We obviously have a suicide theme here, and the fact that Negan never actually shoots or stabs Lucille in the head, both of which parallel Beth. 

On TTD, YNB even pointed out that she’s wearing the same clothes as she was the day he left, which means she committed suicide the day he left. Most of the 6 weeks he’s been out looking for medical supplies, she was already dead. Super tragic, no?

We also see keys, matches, the blue cooler again, and Negan wrapping the barbed wire around his bat. 

So, a couple of preliminary thoughts here. The 6 weeks was bugging me because they said it 2 or 3 times, really emphasizing it. I’m kind of wanting to equate it to 6 seasons. Because if Beth doesn’t show until S11 (and clearly now she can’t, unless she shows in Fear or something, but I’m not holding my breath for that) then it will be 6 seasons since Beth left the show.

And again, it’s more anti-parallel than parallel. For 6 weeks, Negan thought Lucille was alive, but she was dead the entire time. For 6 seasons, Daryl thought Beth was dead, when really she’s been alive the whole time.

And, of course, Negan burns the house down, much like Beth and Daryl did in Still.

But here’s the other thing @wdway noticed. Check out the similarities here:

Similar colors and structures, and both seem to be on fire at some point. And I don’t think the cabin in 5x09 was pointing toward Negan and Lucille. Rather, I think the symbolism in both instances point toward something we haven’t seen, yet. But the parallels and repeated symbolism are there.

When Negan leaves, he gets on his bike with Lucille (the bat) and drives away from the burning house. And interestingly, we see him smack his mailbox with it and knock it off it’s post. 

Couple of things here:

The name “Smith” is written on the mailbox, so apparently that was their last name. And they mentioned it on TTD. Smith is such an everyman sort of name. It might be one of the most common surnames on the planet, so there’s definitely some interesting symbolism there having to do with Negan.

But I’m side-eyeing the actual mailbox, as part of the Communication Theme. And, on a very basic level, I’m thinking that the mailbox was intact when Lucille was still alive. He destroyed it after he lost her. So maybe it represents something along those lines, or even represents the person they lost. So mailbox = Beth.

The scene that keeps flashing in my head is from 6x03 when Daryl is riding around on his bike, searching for Rick, and he’s passing all these mailboxes in the background. 

Then in 10x21, we see him walking toward the military walker on the train tracks (*coughs CRM, *coughs Rick*) and he passes the blond, Beth walker, but doesn’t actually look at her or see her. Do you kind of see the similar theme there?

Negan brutally killing the biker gang can parallel Rick doing the same to Joe Claimer in 4x16.

Negan tells Craven a story about how he lost his job. He got in a bar fight. It was their favorite because it had a JUKE BOX. And they loved the juke box because it played their favorite song (You are So Beautiful to Me.) He even talks about “seeing red” and how he now realizes he can do anything he wants (read: kill anyone he wants) so we kind of see his evolution into S6 Negan here.

And honestly, they leave a lot of loose threads here. We never learn what happens to Franklin (he’s still alive at this point) and obviously Laura stays with Negan long term, but they really could do more flashbacks about how he started gathering people and found the Sanctuary.

So then we come back to the present where he’s just dug Lucille up under the stained glass window tree. In the first scene at the beginning, we see a walker making its way toward him. Yes, it’s a blond, female walker, and I’m pretty sure she’s wearing Daryl’s shirt from when he was at the Sanctuary. Here at the end, Negan has been lost in his own thoughts so long, the walker comes up behind him and he turns around and kills it with Lucille. 

When he does, the bat splits down the middle. Yet another symbol of Lucille’s death.

He goes back to the cabin and sits in front of the fire and talks to Lucille (both the bat and his actual wife). He says, “I’m sorry I left you…I made myself not feel anything…I miss you.” See how we could apply that to Daryl?

He also says, “I’m going to do your fighting for you,” which I take to mean he’ll honor her memory better, now, rather than go back to the old, evil Negan he was. Which was really just years of him avoiding his feelings about her death. (Kind of like Daryl has with Beth, hence the Leah situation.)

Then he covers the bat in a white cloth (clearly meant to be a shroud) and puts the bat in the fireplace, burning it. On TTD, they do say this is meant to be the funeral she never got. 👀

Oh, and at the end of the “in memoriam” on TTD, it actually says, “Negan is burning down his past.”

So, at the very end, he actually goes back to Alexandria. Maggie, Carol, and Daryl are near the entrance and he asks where the “A” team is going. Carol warns Negan that if he lives at Alexandria, Maggie will kill him at some point. I actually really liked this ending. It was a good way to kick us into S11.

That’s the end of the episode. So, I’ll say this again and it will be a good segue into my next post about what I think Beth’s arc will be in S11, and how she’ll appear. I’ll post it either tomorrow or Thursday.

Without getting too much into the weeds, I think Negan and Beth will have some major, future interaction. And I really think the symbolism here backs it up, for various reasons. The symbolism itself wouldn’t prove anything, as we’ve seen this stuff repeated with lots of different characters and especially true love couples, which Negan and Lucille clearly were, despite his cheating.

But on TTD, Hilarie Burton talked about how strong Lucille was. She said she liked the character because so often when cancer victims or victims of other prolonged diseases are portrayed on film, they’re seen as angelic, ethereal beings. And while that’s fine if that’s truly who they are, you don’t lose your personality just because you become sick. So she liked it that Lucille was a little rough around the edges. She says that even before the apocalypse, Negan was just fussy enough that he would need a strong woman to rein him in, and he would also be attracted to exactly this kind of strong woman. 

Strong woman = Beth.

So, I’ll just leave it there.

Anyone find any symbols I missed?

#beth greene #beth greene lives #beth is alive #beth is coming #td theory #td theories #team delusional #team defiance #beth is almost here #bethyl

[spikemuth-post]

12 Baby Toxels ~Piers x Reader~

“Piers-” “Well, what was I supposed to do? Leave them!?” He defended, gesturing to the living room of your apartment. Many baby Toxels crawled around, cooing, ripping magazines and exploring their new home. The adorable tornado had already made a mess of things and it all started because Piers went to buy milk. Piers walked by a woman who found a dozen eggs in her yard and simply couldn’t keep the babies.  He offered to find them homes but found himself attached to every single one of them. Naturally, he brought them home. It was have to keep a stoic face with so many drooling Toxels crawling and climbing on your furniture. “Babe, They need a home.” “We can’t take care of this many.” “I mean... we could try.” As you argued a little purple creature wandered over, starting to climb Piers’s leg. He picked it up, rocking the baby in his arms. You tried to remain focused on Piers so that your heart wouldn’t melt. “They’re just adorable, ain’t they?” “Where are they going to sleep? I don’t want them in Pokeballs this young.” “Well... I think our bed is big enough for us all- and Before you say no, look at him!” He held out the Toxel in his arms. It drooled, wiggling against his grip and itching to continue exploring your apartment. You took it, just staring at the little creature. You finally sighed before putting it on the ground and letting it play with the others. “Fine, Piers.”

---

“1, 2, 3, 4... I think we warmed all the bottles, Piers.” “Nah, that’s 11. We need one more.” “On it.” You grabbed an empty bottle from the shopping bag and headed to the fridge. As you did, Piers handed a bottle to every single Toxel. On the last one, he picked him up, cradling him and rejoining you in the kitchen. Once he got there you handed him a bottle, which he handed to the baby in his arms. “That’s all of them. Once they’re full they should go down for a nap.” “I don’t know if I can handle another few weeks of this.” “It will get easier. Once they’re all bigger you’ll miss being a mommy.” Piers joked, poking your cheek. You smiled but your amusement was short lived as crying burst from the living room. You and Piers were in there in seconds. 2 of them were crying and a Toxel off on his own was drinking both of their bottles at once. “...Guess we know which ones are Amplified.” Piers shrugged, “I’ll make you two new bottles-” “You’re just going to let him get away with that?” “It’s in his nature to be a little bully. As we learn their nature we should just separate them.” He said, not even looking back as he went to make new bottles. You looked at the lot, concerned for the more timid ones. “We should start naming them, so we can tell them apart. You care for the Low Key’s, I’ll take Amplified.” “Can you... handle that?” You remarked nervously, tapping your fingers together and switching your gaze between your boyfriend and the Toxels. “That’s a lot of aggressive personalities to handle...” “I raised an Amplified Toxel,” He boasted, “What kind of trainer would I be if I couldn’t raise a few more?”

---

This was a terrible idea. Once sorted, Piers ended up with 4 of the 12 Toxels. He assumed he could handle it but was obviously wrong. They were breaking everything in sight and Piers was at his wit's end. He didn’t even hear the knock at the door but you did, opening it and letting in Melony. The ice leader greeted you and looked over at Piers and decided he was busy enough. “Thank you so much for this, Melony.” “Oh, It’s no trouble!” Melony squealed. She handed you a folded mesh square. “Now, this playpen fit all of my human kids so it can definitely hold 12 baby pokemon!” “Oh, it will only hold 8 of them. Piers is in charge of the other 4!” “...He doesn’t look like he’s doing very well... “She made sure to whisper that to you, not wanting to insult Piers. He didn’t notice anyway. He was frantically searching for a missing Toxel, not knowing that it was behind him, hanging from his hair. Melony pat your shoulder in a show of sympathy. “...You two are using protection right?” “Melony!” “I’m just saying. Piers is a great guy... he just might not be ready to be a dad.”

----

You lightly strummed a cute ukelele, the babies in front of you swaying lightly to the music. You sang to them in a boppy tone, making them happy. In the middle of your song a dangerous noise exploded from the next room. “ARE YOU READY TO BLOW OUT THE SPEAKERS?!” The room practically shook as the guitar solo started and your Toxels grew scared and huddled together. You quickly kissed all their heads and excused yourself as you stormed to your bedroom where Piers was. That sick rift was clearly coming from your boyfriend's guitar. The first thing you saw when you entered was his Toxels headbanging and Piers shredding that guitar like you’ve never seen before... okay you have, You live with him after all. You put your hands on your hips, waiting for him to stop feeling the music and notice you. He was into it, his eyes closed and playing his heart out.  “...Piers?” Nothing. He even started banging his head and the Toxel’s started raving. “Piers!” “Huh?” He stopped on a dime, the Toxel’s whining in the process. “Oh Babe, What’s up?” “I’m trying to put the babies to sleep!” “So am I,” He gestured to the pokemon, “I’ve got the rowdy ones, remember?” “Try and keep it down a bit-” “What fun is that?” His Toxels began to hiss at you and you flicked the closest one in the nose. It was discouraged and backed down immediately. “How the hell did you do that? Mica has been hissing all day!” “It’s a dominance thing. I don’t let anything control me.” Your boyfriend raised a brow at you, making you falter for a second. “Except you-” “I was about to say-” “Shut up, Piers.”

---

You swaddled all of your Toxels and placed them in the playpen to sleep. Once Piers got his to sleep, he wrapped them up and put them in the bed between where you both sleep. Since it was only 4, you allowed it. You both went to sleep without any difficulty... until they started kicking. A little Toxel started tossing and turning, kicking in his sleep. His little foot jabbed his brother’s face. He woke up, kicking the toxel he thought was responsible but he was wrong and woke his sister. That Toxel didn’t bother to open her eyes and simply kicked first, kicking Piers right in the groin. He sat upright, holding his crotch and cursing loud enough to wake probably the whole neighborhood “Fuckin Hell-” “Piers, Are you okay?” You responded quick, but very groggy. “I-Is everything okay? Are the babies okay?” “Give me a minute, I’m recoverin’.” The Toxel that kicked him was now awake, cooing in her loose blanket and looking up at you. You picked her up, cradling her and telling her that Piers probably forgives her.

---- To Be continued, 12 Baby Toxels Part 2... eventually. If people like it, idk

#pokemon sword and shield #pokémon #piers gymleader #piers #piers x reader #swsh #headcanon #headcannons #headcannon #scenario #scenarios #imagines #imagine

[gingrrfrog]

these nights (5)

word count: 5.4k ... also long 

warnings: angst, car accident injuries, 

summary: standing in front of machines that kept him alive, yejin never imagined that jeno had this many secrets and so many people that were willing to keep them. 

a/n: another long one 😔 also day 12 of the quarantine :] 

masterlist

“Now, Jaemin!”

Yejin pulled her head away from the phone, staring at her phone with her eyebrows furrowed together.

“Yejin, baby? I’ve got to go, okay? I’ll call you later.”

“Jaemin? Is everything okay? What’s going on?”

“I uh,” she listened to him clear his throat before he paused momentarily, “I don’t know yet, Angel. I’m sorry, I’ll call you.”

“O-okay…be safe. I love you.”

“I love you, sweetheart. So much.”

Jaemin kissed the phone and before Yejin could ask anything else, the call ended and the same unease was found in her stomach. She took a shaky deep breath before placing her cell phone in front of her, watching as her hands trembled and as she wept. She watched as the beginnings of her hands began numbing as it slowly crept up her arms and began nipping at her nose. She continued taking deep breaths as she walked towards the freezer, taking a clump of ice in her hands and pressing it against her neck, counting her breathing before walking to the bathroom, walking past a sleeping Jihyun as she tried to her best to calm herself down.

The ice was beginning to melt and drip down her shirt, once they were tiny pebbles, she dropped them down the drain and took great care in her skin routine. With equally cold water, she washed her face, watching her red nose soothe at the sensation as she continued to scrub at her face somewhat forcefully, reprimanding herself mentally as she knew this wasn’t conducive to adequate skincare. On the other hand, she couldn’t find herself caring too much about it either. Wiping her face with her towel, she moved to the shower, turning the water on to a warm setting before peeling her clothes off layer by layer, stepping inside and feeling somewhat relieved at the warm water despite the cold she felt earlier.

After her shower, she continued the rest of her skincare routine with her towel wrapped around her body, padding barefoot back to her room and looking for a pair of sleeping clothes in the dark, being careful not to wake up Jihyun—although, she gathered it would be difficult to do so judging by the snores coming from the bed. Her routine took an hour and forty-five minutes, almost twice as long as her regular time when Jaemin and Jeno were home.

Finally sinking into her sheets, she stared at the clock and constantly tossed and turned until the clock showed 11:33, where she heard Jihyun groan out in frustration. She lifted herself up from the bed almost like a zombie, somehow half-stomping and half dragging her feet as she walked awkwardly towards the bathroom, using it quickly before noticing Yejin awake with her phone in hands.

“Why are you awake?” She asked sleepily, curling back in the bedsheets with her eyes closed.

“I can’t sleep,” Yejin replied nonchalantly. “I usually sleep pretty late anyway.”

Judging by her walk and the way Jihyun barely spoke above a whisper, Yejin wasn’t entirely sure if Jihyun was awake at all. It wasn’t until she took her hand that she noticed that Jihyun was fully awake, placing her hand on top of her belly and feeling something squirm within her.

“She keeps me up all night, sometimes she pushes at my bladder and wakes me up,” Jihyun grumbled, her eyes still closed. “Sleep, Yejin. If not for you, then for us, who can’t so easily.”

Yejin laughed quietly, “I guess you’re right.”

“‘M always right,” she hummed, curling Jeno’s pillow close to her chest. “Never wrong.”

Yejin smiled before closing her eyes. She wondered if Yejin had some kind of superpower to make her feel tired because the second she closed her eyes, it’s almost as if sleep took the cue. Exhaustion weighed down on her shoulders as she fell fast asleep, dreaming of Jeno and Jaemin and having them close to her again.

When she woke up again, it was nearly ten am, and it was to Jihyun’s snores that were progressively getting louder. It was later than Yejin would usually wake up, but not by much considering the sun was high in the sky, beaming into her bedroom almost as if there hadn’t been a snowstorm for the past two days. She checked her phone and frowned slightly to herself when she saw no new messages nor missed calls—she told herself that Jaemin might still be asleep, considering he had a worse sleeping schedule than she.

Yejin then noticed Jihyun’s arm curled around her waist, cuddling her close as she took advantage of the baby being asleep as well. Carefully, Yejin removed her arm and placed it on top of a pillow, watching as Jihyun instantly brought it to her chest and continued to snore. She laughed quietly to herself before stretching her arms, stepping out of the bed to continue stretching before continuing her morning routine.

After brushing her teeth, she walked over towards the kitchen, searching the refrigerator for breakfast items, noticing a few eggs and a few potatoes in the fridge. She took them out and chopped potatoes, tomatoes, and green onion to herself quietly, relishing in the sounds of crunchy vegetables being chopped in a silent room before dropping them in a sizzling pan. In a bowl, she cracked those few eggs and whisked them intently before pouring them in another sizzling pan, smiling at the sound as she shook it back and forth.

The potatoes were starting to brown nicely, so Yejin decided to pull them off the stove and onto a plate, covering them generously with cheese before layering another bowl on top to ensure the steam would melt the cheese equally. Just as Yejin was plating the eggs, Jihyun emerged from the bedroom, her hand over her belly as she blinked blearily at the sun. Yejin almost wanted to scoff, there’s no way someone like Jihyun should be real, much less eating cheesy potatoes in her kitchen.

She sort of understood why Jaehyun put her nudes under lock and key, now.

“Goodmorning,” Jihyun smiled weakly, taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “You didn’t have to make breakfast, Yejin, I could’ve—“

“I’m sure you could’ve called another master chef celebrity, but have you ever thought that I wanted to showcase my skills for you?”

Jihyun laughed, thanking Yejin for the meal before digging in. “Eggs and cheesy potatoes, I see. Very American.”

“Something I’m very good at,” Yejin grinned, watching as Jihyun groaned at the flavor.

“Oh fuck, that’s good,” she cried. “If I eat cheesy potatoes for the rest of my pregnancy and gain ten pounds I’m coming for you.”

“Do you like them? I think I might’ve over seasoned them—“

“They’re amazing,“ Jihyun shushed her quickly. “Hurry and eat, I can’t be the only one eating like this.”

They ate in partial silence, occasionally perking up to say something, which would receive a small response before they ate again. It was comfortable, Yejin thought to herself. She appreciated that Jihyun wasn’t the type to always demand conversation despite knowing Jihyun herself loved to talk. In lieu of speaking, Jihyun looked over her phone. She had mentioned the day before that the most important phone after the boss’ was not the consigliere, but the boss’ wife’s phone, and she could see the appeal. Jihyun’s phone was full of notifications from emails, missed calls and text messages, but judging by the look of surprise on her face, Yejin gathered that even this was too many to be considered normal. She picked her phone up from the table and read something from her phone, her eyebrows knitting together in what looked like worry and concern.

“Is everything alright?” Yejin prodded gently, watching as Jihyun’s face immediately fixed itself into a smile.

“Yep! I’ve got to make some calls, you keep eating, it’s Taeyong and supply questions.”

Yejin nodded and returned her smile, but it didn’t take a genius to realize that she was lying. Instead of saying anything about it, she watched as she left for the bathroom, closing the door behind her and locking the door.

Yejin didn’t feel too hungry after that, luckily she had made it through most of her meal before standing up and taking Jihyun’s empty plate, walking towards the sink and calmly washing the dishes, taking extra care to count how many times she swirled the sponge around each dish before placing it in the drying rack.

Jihyun appeared at her last dish, making eye contact with Yejin and giving her another smile, a smaller one this time as she sat back in her seat.

“Everything under control?” Yejin asked, her eyes not leaving the sink as she continued to wash the now clean plate.

“Yes,” Jihyun cleared her throat. “Jaehyunie called me after, he’s coming to pick us up later.”

“For?” Yejin gripped the sponge, scrubbing at the porcelain plate as she was sure she was going to chip the paint.

“I’m not sure,” Jihyun mumbled. “He’ll be here soon.”

Yejin nodded. She released the poor plate out of its misery as she put it on the drying rack with the others, “okay. I’m going to go get changed.”

“Sure, of course.”

Yejin watched as Jihyun began to pack up her things, slowly shoving them in her duffel bag before Yejin closed the door to get out of her pajamas. She heard the front door open and Jihyun welcomed her fiancé, tiptoeing just slightly out of the room to hear what they were talking about.

“Are you okay?” Jihyun asked after a kiss

“I’m fine, baby. What about you? Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine, we just stayed inside the whole time,” Jihyun replied. Yejin watched from the reflection of the mirror across the couch, noticing Jihyun snuggling into Jaehyun’s arms, relief on her face before she checked Jaehyun. “Is Jeno okay?”

“He’s safe. I’ll tell you more at the hospital.” Jaehyun said firmly, “Did you tell her?”

“No, I told her I didn’t know anything,” Jihyun frowned. “It’s not a lie, but I don’t like doing that.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. I won’t ask you to do that again, I just want to make sure that I want to avoid panic.”

“No offense, but your texts didn’t do a good job of doing that.”

“I realized that now…sorry.”

Yejin appeared from around the corner, causing Jihyun to pull away from Jaehyun’s embrace as the latter offered her a somber look as a greeting.

“Ready?” Jihyun smiled.

Yejin nodded without a word, following Jihyun with her hand tightly clasped with hers, walking out of their apartment as Jihyun led the way down the stairs and towards Jaehyun’s BMW that was waiting outside. Jihyun sat in the back with Yejin as Jaehyun shoved her luggage in the back of the car, watching as the taller man walked back around to the driver’s seat and started the car anew.

Yejin noticed five minutes into the drive that they were taking the cursed road to the hospital, her stomach churning as Jaehyun parked close to the entrance. It was some kind of sick solace that they didn’t park in emergency at least, as Jihyun continued to hold her hand towards the main entrance of the hospital and immediately towards the elevator. Jaehyun pressed the Up button as the elevator almost instantly opened, stepping aside and allowing Jihyun and Yejin to step inside first before he did, watching as he pressed the number seven and as the elevator closed its doors.

Yejin’s stomach rose and fell with the elevator, the elevator dinging wide open.

“Seventh Floor: Intensive Care Unit,” The robotic female voice said. Yejin’s eyes widened as her head snapped back towards Jaehyun, watching his face scrunch up into a wince.

So much for trying to avoid panic.

Jihyun squeezed her hand as Jaehyun got out first, leading the two behind him down hallways and hallways of rooms. The labyrinth seemed to end after two turns as Yejin could see a tall figure in the distance standing outside a room with his chin in hand, pacing back and forth. Once Yejin recognized it to be Jaemin, she let all her guards fall, crying instantly as she ran into his arms and crashing against his chest violently, weeping although she had no idea what was behind the door

“It’s okay, Yejin. It’s okay, he’s okay.” Jaemin said softly in her ear, but it was incredibly difficult to believe when his own voice was also wavering with emotion.

“Are you okay, are you hurt?” Yejin asked immediately after, pulling away and frantically searching in his coat and shirt before tilting his head back and forth to look for any wounds. “What’s happened? What’s going on?”

“I’m fine, baby,” Jaemin took a deep breath before placing his hands on her face. “Jeno is inside…they flipped the car over last night. We still don’t have much to go on this theory with but we think the location last night was a set up.”

Yejin’s eyes searched the area of his face for some kind of lie, but Jaemin’s face was as solemn as they came. “Who flipped it, Jaemin? Set up for what, I don’t understand—“

“I don’t know either, Angel,” Jaemin frowned, his thumbs caressing under her eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know.”

Yejin let a few more tears escape as Jaemin wiped them carefully, “Is he okay?”

“A few broken bones, a bruised lung,” he grimaced. “That’s not what the doctor was too worried about, though. Jeno hit his head really hard on something. We’re not sure what, but his brain swelled up pretty bad. Doctor put him under until the swelling goes down, just so it doesn’t hurt.”

Yejin winced, her head falling back on his chest as she continued to cry.

“He’ll make a full recovery, Angel…he just has to sleep for a while. That’s all.”

“God, I fucking knew something was going to go wrong, I felt in my stomach I couldn’t sleep last night,” she wept. “I should’ve said something, I—“

“Nothing you could’ve done would’ve stopped this, Yejin. This isn’t your fault.” Jaemin reassured, rubbing her back before leading her towards the door. “Let’s go inside.”

Yejin almost refused to look at him. She walked inside the door with her head shoved into Jaemin’s chest as he stood in front of what she could only imagine was the bed Jeno was resting on. She could hear the machinery in the background, signaling a steady heartbeat that allowed Yejin to gather the strength to peer out of Jaemin’s coat.

It did nothing to soothe her as she watched Jeno breathe with the help of a few tubes, her hands trembling as she continued to sob. Had it not been for the mole under his right eye she would’ve never recognized him, falling to her knees as she took his cold hand, hands that were always warmer in comparison to hers.

“Oh Jeno,” she wept softly. “My baby, what did they do to you, my love?”

Jaemin was close behind, his hand on her neck before she turned around to cry in his legs again.

“Get up from the floor, baby,” Jaemin said softly. “It’s dirty.”

“I want to stay here,” she sniffled. “What if he gets lonely?”

“Jaemin is right, Angel.” Jihyun suddenly said behind her, rubbing her back as she eased her on her feet. “The floor is dirty, we’ll get you a chair.”

Jaehyun scooted an arm chair next to Jeno’s bed with help from Jaemin. Jihyun curled into Jaehyun’s hold as she watched Yejin take a seat on the chair, her head resting next to Jeno’s hand as she held it tightly, her fingers running over his knuckles as she continued to sniffle next to him. Jihyun’s heart broke at the sight, turning her head into his chest as she tried to fight tears of her own.

“Do you want to go home?” Jaehyun asked softly. Jihyun nodded.

Jaehyun and Jihyun said their goodbyes. Jaemin accepted only a hand on his shoulder from his brother as a silent goodbye and a kiss on the cheek from Jihyun with a weak smile. Jihyun kissed the top of Yejin’s head before telling her goodbye, a squeeze from Jaehyun’s hand and they were left alone.

Yejin was nowhere near ready to let go of Jeno’s hand until an hour and half after Jaehyun and Jihyun took their leave, noticing that Jaemin hadn’t sat down since. She looked up from her post and noticed that Jaemin was asleep standing up. She pulled away from Jeno’s hand and watched as his eyes flashed open, stumbling a bit backwards before catching himself with the help from Yejin’s hands.

“Jaemin, did you sleep last night?”

Said man shook his head, rubbing at his eyes before yawning deeply, “I couldn’t.”

Yejin got up from her spot on the chair and took Jaemin’s hand to pull him towards the couch, laying down and pulling Jaemin next to her, “sleep.”

“But—“

“If anything happens, we’ll both be here,” she reassured, running her fingers through his hair as he snuggled closer to her. “Sleep, Jaemin.”

It took less than five minutes for Jaemin to fall asleep, the twenty-two hours he had been awake were beginning to drive him insane. Yejin had woken up late either way, so she didn’t feel too tired as she continued to run her fingers through his hair and Jaemin breathed softly next to her. She noticed at that point that Jeno and Jaemin were breathing at the same rate, and despite the situation, she couldn’t help but to smile. She really did feel like she was intruding on their own romance sometimes.

Jaemin was awake for two hours when Yejin heard running outside before their door swung open, a very frantic Jisung lugging take out food in his hands appearing in front before he dropped it on the nearby table.

The youngest Jung brother had yet to take notice in Yejin and Jaemin’s appearance before Jisung ran towards Jeno sleeping figure, his hands running through his own hair before he looked over the body twice, “Jeno hyung! Oh my god, Jeno hyung—“

Jaemin groaned in his sleep, causing the youngest to snap his head to see Yejin sitting against the couch with Jaemin in her arms, still fast asleep.

“Oh, Yejin noona, I’m sorry,” Jisung suddenly whispered. He walked over towards the two before he took a seat in front of them, using the plastic chair seeing that the other two were occupied.

“What brings you here?” Yejin whispered.

“Jaehyun hyung asked me if I could do a favor after school, so I brought some food,” Jisung frowned deeply before looking back at Jeno. “I didn’t think this was why, though.”

“He’s going to be okay,” Yejin reassured, somehow finding it hilarious considering she had been the one crying for three hours.

“Are you sure…he doesn’t…look okay,” Jisung added carefully. Despite being dense at times, Jisung was fully capable of reading the room, most definitely noticing Yejin’s tired-from-crying eyes the second he saw her.

“I’ve been told, at least.”

“Do you know what happened?”

“A car accident from work, apparently.”

“How?”

Yejin gave a soft smile, shaking her head, “you know I’m not allowed to tell you Jisung.”

Jisung huffed in disbelief, “those rules only apply to Jaemin hyung and Jeno hyung, they don’t apply to you, noona!”

“I’m not allowed to tell you, Jisung. What if Jaehyun oppa finds out I’ve told you? Then who gets in trouble?”

“Me, I’ll tell him that I’m taking the suneung next week, and I’ll be an adult in a few months.”

Yejin continued to shake her head, “not a chance, Jisung.”

Jisung was the youngest of the three Jung brothers, a high schooler who was always too curious for his own good. Jaemin used to tell stories of Jisung hiding in their father’s office to hear about work, being yanked out by his shirt collar by Jaehyun or his father depending on who caught him first.

Nearing the end of their father’s life, Jaehyun became his primary at guardian at 25, taking care of his then 15 year old brother until he was accepted into an academy nearby, dorming with students his age and far from the life of delinquency both Jaehyun and Jaemin kept him from. However, this still didn’t ease her curiosity, often asking for updates and information despite Jaehyun scolding and reprimanding him time and time again. To help ease curiosity, Jaehyun presented an ultimatum: either Jisung end with curiosity and stick with school or work for his brother full time, dropping out of his dream school. Very obviously, Jisung chose the first option, but it still didn’t stop him from sneaking some information every so often from whatever Jihyun could tell him, but even then, it was low grade gossip and nowhere near the level his brothers talked at.

Jisung called bluff, but he never expected everyone to be so serious about it.

“Fine,” Jisung pouted. “I didn’t want to know anyway.“

“Good, that makes this easier for the both of us.”

Jisung scooted closer, “but can’t you tell me—“

“Enough, Jisung,” Jaemin’s deep voice came from Yejin’s chest. Jisung closed his mouth at the sound of his very irritated older brother, his pout deepening as his shoulders sagged.

“I’ll leave it alone,” Jisung sighed, scratching the back of his head aggressively before looking back at Jeno and to his wrist. “I guess I’ll get going. I got permission to leave for lunch because Jaehyun hyung called, but class will start sometime soon again.”

“Study hard, Jisung,” Yejin smiled. “We’re all rooting for you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Jisung smiled bashfully, waving as he made his way towards the door, “I’ll see you around. Campus isn’t that far from the hospital so I’ll be around more often.”

“Can’t wait,” Jaemin grumbled from Yejin’s hold.

Jisung narrowed his eyes, “what did he say?”

“He said don’t be late!” Yejin waved, watching as Jisung closed the door behind him. Yejin looked down at Jaemin. His eyes were still closed but there was no doubt he was awake at this rate.

“Jisung brought food, are you hungry?”

Jaemin squeezed his eyes before opening them slowly, squinting at the fluorescent lighting before rubbing at his eyes harshly, “kinda. What did he bring?”

“Chicken, I think.”

“Oh, thank god. I thought he cooked.” Jaemin smiled, lifting himself up from her hold and sitting on the couch, continuing to rub his eyes as Yejin brought the food towards them.

“I don’t think your brother would’ve sent Jisung if he had cooked,” Yejin smiled, opening the fried chicken box as they munched chicken quietly. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I feel better, for the most part,” Jaemin yawned, rubbing his neck before taking a chicken wing. “I don’t think a two hour nap has the ability to go against almost an entire day of no sleep though.”

“Are you going to stay the night here? If not, we can go home and sleep.”

Jaemin shook his head, “Johnny hyung said he was staying the night. I think they’ll be back later, my brother and Johnny hyung.  I think they want to talk about the next move, or whatever.”

Yejin nodded, silently eating her food and noticing Jaemin barely picking at the bits of his food. She didn’t find it strange at all, she wasn’t hungry all that much herself, but she can’t imagine that Jaemin had any kind of meal before this. Regardless, they kept eating, slowly no doubt, but steadily until Jaemin finally pushed the box away from him. Yejin took care to throw away the trash outside of the room, sliding back inside and noticing Jaemin sitting upright next to the armchair, looking through his phone while his free hand held Jeno’s.

She took it upon herself to sit on his lap, Jaemin immediately letting go of his phone before wrapping it around her waist. Yejin tilted his head back with her fingertips, watching as Jaemin gave her a weak smile before puckering his lips. Yejin chuckled to herself before leaning in to kiss him gently before cradling his head to her chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I can be.”

“What’s stopping you?” She mumbled, glancing over Jeno, “besides the obvious?”

“To be honest with you, I have no idea what I’m feeling. Whatever it is,” Jaemin moved his hand from her waist to her thigh, “it’s not good.”

Jaemin let go of Jeno’s hand to pull her closer, cradling her completely and locking his hands around her legs. Yejin got comfortable, resting her cheek against the crown of her head before she continued, “are you mad?”

“Towards?”

���Your brother?”

“Why would I be mad at Jisung?”

“You know that’s not who I meant, Jaem.”

Jaemin sighed, rubbing his girlfriend’s thigh as he took a moment to think, “I don’t think I’m directly mad at him, but I’m not entirely too happy with his methodology right now.”

“I understand.”

The couple continued to sit in silence before a thought slowly fanned into her brain. She bit her lip, wondering how to bring it up before Jaemin shuffled closer to her chest, specifically her heart.

“Your heart is racing?” Jaemin mentioned, looking up in confusion, “are you feeling okay?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Angel. Anything.”

“Why…” No, not like that. “How come you…” no. I don’t want him to think I’m blaming him either.

“Yes?”

“Is there a reason why you never told me Jeno had a sister?”

Jaemin froze under her. He was quiet for a moment, his hold on her loosening as she could almost hear the cogs in his brain turning.

“Who told you?” Out of the ways Yejin thought he would react, she never would’ve thought it would be cold.

“Does it matter?”

“Partially.”

“So, it partially doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Yejin.”

Yejin pulled herself away from his head to look at him, her eyebrows knitted together and her eyes slightly narrowed, “so then why are you telling me it partially matters when it definitely matters who told me?”

“Because whoever told you didn’t have the authority nor the right,” Jaemin snipped

“Jaehyun oppa told me.” Indirectly, she thought to herself. Via Jihyun.

Jaemin snorted, “of course he did.”

“I just want to know why he didn’t tell me, Jaemin. I don’t want to know the entire conspiracy behind it—“

“No one wants to talk about their murdered sister, Yejin.”

“But no one really wants to find out their boyfriend—“ Yejin paused, “or rather boyfriends were lying to her.”

“We didn’t lie-“

“You didn’t tell the truth either, Jaemin. Do you see how upsetting this is?”

Jaemin rolled his eyes. Yejin huffed in disbelief at the dismissive action as her blood boiled beneath her skin. “Hello?”

“What?”

“Are you going to tell me?”

Jaemin glanced at Jeno before nodding his head, “Jeno’s right there. Ask him yourself.”

“Unbelievable.” Yejin got up from his lap and grabbed her coat from behind the chair, “you never miss the opportunity to be a fucking asshole.“

“Jung brother specialty, baby.”

“Fuck you,” she spat. “I don’t know why I fucking put up with you, you’re such a fucking spoiled, egotistical brat!”

“Then leave! If I’m such a fucking asshole then get out! Nobody is fucking keeping you here! Jeno isn’t even awake to make you stay!” Jaemin yelled back, pointing to the door.

Yejin stared at the back of the chair before crying for what seemed like the hundredth time today. She opened the door and slammed it behind her, accidentally bumping into Johnny, apologizing quickly before she continued to run out of the hallway.

Johnny looked at Jaehyun and Jihyun, offering a grimace, “I told you I heard yelling.”

Jihyun looked at Jaehyun with concern, watching him sigh as he gave her the car keys, “go.”

“I’ll see you at home,” she said quickly, kissing his cheek before walking quickly in the direction Yejin ran off to. Jihyun couldn’t run as well as she could perhaps six months ago, but she thankfully managed to reach the elevators as she saw that Yejin was waiting impatiently for the doors to open. When they did, she shoved herself inside, disregarding the family that was trying to get out.

“Pregnant lady, move.” Jihyun announced, watching Yejin look up from her spot in the corner with teary eyes.

“Come here,” Jihyun gently pulled on Yejin’s arm, shushing her quietly as she sobbed in her chest. “It’s okay—“

“He’s such a fucking idiot!” Yejin cried, sniveling on Jihyun’s expensive sweater. “I get it, they all have their stupid fucking secrets, but Jaemin’s such an asshole about it it’s like he doesn’t even care--“

Yejin’s sentence is interrupted by another loud sob, causing the other people in the elevator to awkwardly look at the floor. Jihyun did her best to soothe, to calm her down before they reached the garage. Jihyun pulled her outside and sat her down on a bench, rubbing her back as her sobs were reduced to small sniffles.

“Better?” Jihyun smiled softly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear.

“I guess,” Yejin took a shaky deep breath. “Not really.”

“Do you want me to take you home?”

Yejin shook her head, tears starting up again as she admitted what she had been thinking the whole day, “I want Jeno home.”

Yejin cried harder, causing Jihyun to hold her close and conceal her from the eyes of curious bystanders.

“I know, Angel, I know—let’s go to my place then, hm?” She prompted, “I don’t think you’ve been to my new house yet? I can show you the nursery I’m building.”

The last thing Yejin wanted to see was a happy home, but it was better than going home to an empty apartment, where Jaemin would be later on. So instead of rejecting, Yejin nodded, sniffling once more before Jihyun took her hand and led her to her car.

//

Jaehyun and Johnny stood outside the door. Jihyun had just ran off to find Yejin as both men tried to figure out if they wanted to step inside or not. They argued quietly as to who should come in first.

“You’re older, hyung. You’re wiser because of your years in the world,” Jaehyun whispered harshly.

“Excuse me? You’re the boss, not only that you’re his brother, Jaehyun, you go—“ Johnny began to push Jaehyun towards the door.

“His brother that he currently hates.” Jaehyun hissed.

Eventually, Johnny managed to push him inside, glaring at him as he saw Jaemin sulking in the arm chair.

“Trouble in paradise?” Johnny prompted.

“Fuck off,” Jaemin grumbled, glaring at the machines.  

“Do you want to talk—“

“No.”

Jaehyun nodded, “right. I thought so.”

Johnny took a seat at Jeno’s bed as Jaehyun stood next to him, his arms crossed. “Jaemin—“

“No offense, Johnny hyung, I kind of don’t want to talk about work right now.”

“That’s too bad, kiddo, because,” Johnny smiled, “the worst part of work is that you have to do it anyway. Why? Because it’s your job, and this is not something I’m negotiating.”

Jaemin looked up at Jaehyun with questioning eyes, causing his older brother to laugh, “what? Are you talking to me now? Don’t look at me, Johnny hyung is talking to you now.”

“Did you tell Yejin about Jieun noona?”

What the fuck? Jaehyun furrowed his eyebrows together, “No? I speak to your girlfriend maybe twice a year.”

“I thought so,” Jaemin mumbled.

“Why bring up Jieun now, Jaemin?” Johnny asked.

“Yejin asked about her. Someone told her and I thought Jeno and I asked you not to say anything.”

“You’re getting real bold, these days, Jaeminie, don’t you think?” Johnny pressed, patting his head and gripping his shoulder almost to warn him for speaking informally.

Jaehyun sighed heavily, his head dropping into his hands, “I didn’t say anything Jaemin. But I think I know who did.”

“It’s fine, hyung. I did tell Jeno and Jaemin that I wouldn’t say anything,” Jaehyun reassured, looking for his phone and for a particular contact. “I think I forgot to relay the message to someone else, though.”

To: Jihyunie

We have to talk later.

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masterlist 

#nct angst #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct dream #nct 127 #NCT Dream Scenarios #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #jaehyun #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun mafia #jaemin scenario #jaemin mafia #jeno scenario #jeno mafia #Johnny mafia #Johnny scenario

[genuflectx]

Giant Moth/OC

Length: 9,680 words

Main Kinks: oviposition, fluff/romance, blood, giant insect, insect genitalia, cervix penetration,

Other Warnings: thunder storms, dubious consent to egg laying, larva, pain (neck + shoulder), third person writing, she/her pronouns, being torn up by a thorn bush, language barriers,

1/12/2020: THIS IS A REPOST!

All images in aesthetic board are labeled for reuse with modification or are mine.

Evening crickets sang away in the sunset. Dim, pulsing stars faded into the darkness of the upper sky. And Whisper, using the lowered temperature to get some gardening done, was short one crucial tool. She looked down at the pretty blue flowers resting in their biodegradable pots and dusted off her gloves. This would be easier with a trowel.

The twenty-three year old peeled off the leather from her hands and went around the house towards her storage shed. Her long, light brown pony tail bobbed as she strode with purpose, and her tattered denim short-shorts rubbed roughly together at the thighs.

She creaked open the rotting shed door from which dust and shadow poured out into the evening. Flecks floated across the seams of sunset. Inside the shed her eyes adjusted, and she squinted up at the feathery sound of wings. For a second there was nothing, but then, screeching in a panic, a barn owl swooped down from the rafters. Its wings hammered against the walls, missing the broken window by a few inches before successfully making it through. Feathers went askew and settled onto the boards below.

Whisper breathed out softly. Just a bird. She bent down a moment to collect one of the speckled feathers before searching for a trowel. The feather was placed on top of a worn table as her eyes grazed the scene. One day she ought to tidy the little shed up, as she was already having trouble finding her tools.

She wiped her glasses then began to plot out the rest of her night as she searched. Ultimately, she decided that after a bit of much needed garden time, she would get some actual work done at her computer. Working from home wasn’t just fun and games. She had to support herself and pay for her house after all, as the tiny inheritance from her mother surely wasn’t what kept her afloat. So; find the trowel, plant the flowers, work at computer. That would wrap up the night nicely.

She peeked around a pile of crumpled, damp boxes. Nothing. She ducked under the high, wide desk. Just junk. She eyed the hooks dangling from their holes. They sported an array of goodies but lacked the tool she needed.

Whisper sighed. She turned and zoned out a bit, thinking. Coming out of her short stupor, she noticed a sliver of thin green fabric across the boards, the rest hidden from view. It fluttered ever so gently with what Whisper assumed had been a draft. She didn’t recall storing old blankets or clothes in the shed.

“Hm,” she hummed curiously.

Without any reserve Whisper bent and grasped the tattered sliver and began to pull, and in a split second response the fabric pulled back. A screech. She’d been found!

A pile of junk clattered and fell, forcing a cry from a surprised and trapped Whisper. In a blur, something climbed away sending thick layers of dust everywhere. Whatever it was crossed the pile then clambered in a blind panic towards the open door.

Whisper kicked off all the junk and slipped backwards on her bottom, eyes wide and following the rapid abscond. What the fuck! Now THAT was not a bird! Had a rabid coyote taken residence in her humble little shed?

In no time she was scrambling to her feet and giving chase; no- not a dog- a human? Had there been some creep in her shed? But something about the figure had been wrong. She shuttered, horror chilling her blood.

Outside, Whisper saw nothing. No sign of the person- the creature- whatever it had been. She breathed heavily and shook. The thought to rip her phone from her pocket and dial the police crossed her mind.

The sound of urgent rustling and fearful clicking drifted to her ears. She looked this way and that, and determined it to be coming from the treeline near her house. Legs brought her forward on their own. She picked up a fallen branch on the way.

Then, there it was. She stood stunned, eyes glued to the scene and knees threatening to give out. A sort of giant insect was thrashing in terror and pain in the blackberry patch near the wood entrance. Its body and wings were ripping against the curved thorns in an attempt to escape. Even with such an expressionless mug, Whisper could sense the fear in the bug’s eyes and the urgency in the clicking of its strange mouth.

Two words flashed across her mind. It’s helpless.

Rearing her stick back she tread carefully forward, inspecting the situation.

It froze, panting desperately. Then, after but a moment of rest, it struggled again with all its might.

Whisper could see a hole tearing into the middle of a wing. She stopped again and stared, blood rushing to her head and cheeks. Among the shock, she was trying to think. How to get it out? What happened if it bit her and off popped her fingers?

Just then the insect realized it was being watched and yanked this way and that, before chittering in pain and ceasing to struggle for a second time. This time, it had given up. At least for a little while.

Whisper moved slowly closer, and closer, and closer. She met eyes with the insect and tried to look as non-threatening as she could. The stick dropped to meet the dirt gently. Unarmed, and moving with generous, open aired stillness, Whisper set about to releasing the creature.

It leaned away, huffing heavily with exhaustion and fear. Whisper persisted with the courage of a farmer releasing a coyote from a barbed wire fence. Her pupils shifted up for a wary glance, then back down to her nimble hands as she carefully pinched the bridge of a wing between fingers. The bug shuttered, wing quivering under touch.

“It’s alright,” she whispered gently. “I just want to help,”

With her other hand she steadily peeled back a branch of bramble prickling at the wing. Below, more thorns stabbed at the thin mesh, but with a quick flutter the one free wing saluted generally out of harm’s way.

Whisper freed the secondary wing, which pressed up against the first. Then, she circled around with the insect’s head following her the whole way, and picked at the other wings. Once more the wing shuttered against her fingers, though this time Whisper noted that the shake traveled upwards into the bug’s one good antenna. The other was broken a quarter of the way up. Her heart sank with sympathy.

And soon it was free. She bumbled backwards as the moth painstakingly let its body take the blunt of the thorns, wings tiredly at attention. It stumbled on through the rest of the bush to alleviate itself, before skittering away into the forest as if set aflame. It didn’t even look back. Whisper watched the pale green fade away into the thicket.

She stood there a while longer before wandering back to the house in a haze. There was mist over her mind, clouding her inner thoughts. She nearly ran into the door. Whisper found herself slumped into the welcoming embrace of a loveseat, head in hand, and brain trickling with unanswered questions.

The facts: it was a giant bug, it was probably a moth, it specificity resembled a luna moth, it was scared of her, it did not attack her, it was severely injured, and it had been living in her shed.

Whisper drummed her fingers on her chin.

The questions: where did it come from, how had it been injured, why was it so big, why did it not bite her, how could it walk, and was it even supposed to have a mouth?

By the time she had regained some of her wits, the sun had sank deep into the earth. She went outside to shut the shed, and then decided to sleep. Sleep decided it didn’t care. She tossed and turned in her king sized bed. The lulling crickets did nothing to sooth her whirring gears, so at around midnight she got back up to try and read.

What better literature to read on a night like this than literature on alien abductions? She’d read the book a hundred times over, and yet read it some more. The low light of her lamp brightened the red of her closed curtains and yellowed the pages of her book. It was about when she’d gotten to a section on lost time when she heard the distant creeeak-clank-clank of her shed door opening and shuttering closed.

Her blood began to grow cold, as if twisting right the hot-water valve of a bath to run cool. A peek towards the grandfather clock told her it was one in the morning now. She sat her book down and looked out of the curtains, but it was too dark to see.

She began to recall the feral cats of her childhood. Whisper retrieved a few slices of cantaloupe from her fridge, placed them into a bowl, and returned to the shed door with flashlight in hand. In a tediously slow act, she carefully grasped the handle, pulled it open just enough for the bowl, then placed the gift directly inside. Door closed, she went back to her cozy little house.

Feral cats, she remembered, could have their trust gained with the process of slow conditioning. Whisper had no doubt that the strange moth had returned. If it ate, perhaps it ate fruit? She was scared, but didn’t feel like she was in any danger. It was just a bug. A giant bipedal bug. With gnashing mouth parts. And, even if there was some sort of danger, it was injured and she was strong.

After setting out the bowl, sleep found Whisper and complied to her will. She drifted off into dreams, and awoke far too early. The book was where she left it on her bedside table, and her curtains were partially pulled back from the night before.

She went outside before the shed door and hesitated. When she eventually got her courage back she peered inside, down at the bowl. Empty. A stupid smile sprawled over her face against her will. Whisper was delighted. If the insect had any notion of finding a different shelter before, now it certainly did not. Feed a feral cat, and it would never leave.

Soon she was filling the bowl with strawberries, canned peaches, and mixed fruit cups. This time she’d enter the building. Inside there was no sign of the moth, but she knew it had to be there, hiding.

“I brought you more food,” she explained quietly.

Whisper left the bowl further inside, away from the door. She hoped to keep pushing her limits, and then maybe one day the creature would eat straight from her hand. Another grin etched over her at the idea.

Whisper worked at her computer all day, keeping herself busy. Sometimes she’d stare out the window wistfully, before snapping back to her work. At lunch time she wondered if it was cold in the shed at night, and if the moth would appreciate bedding.

She gathered up a quilt her grandmother had made and opened the shed, just to see the form of the moth fidgeting with the empty bowl. The movement of the door startled it, and in one swift movement the bowl clattered and rolled as the moth climbed over junk and sank behind some old storage tubs.

Whisper stood in the doorway, unsure what to do. After a few seconds the chill in her blood dissipated. “I thought maybe.. you’d like a blanket?” she peeped.

At the sound of her voice, a nervous moth poked its head around the pile of plastic. It watched her warily as she shuffled inside and slowly lowered the quilt to the dusty boards. They stared one another down until Whisper backed out, nearly tripping in the process.

She was gone again, the human was gone. She brought food, but what does she bring now? She crawled out of hiding into the middle of the room, lifting the ancient blanket close to her face. Soft, soft, soft. This is good!

The quilt was dragged away into the depths of the shed, patted neatly into a corner, and promptly settled upon. Soft soft soft. She liked soft. She did not like this dirty, damp, old shed. But she needed soft. She liked soft.

Her wings were tattered, her homing was screwy, and her belly was slowly growing heavy. The kindness of a terrifying species perplexed her, but for now she was alive. Alive was what mattered. Alive was what drove her. Stay alive.

With food in her stomach and blanket underneath, she stilled and dozed off.

A few days went by for Whisper. She had gotten very little contact from the creature taking refuge in her shed. She’d set out what she had to eat at least twice a day, and quickly found herself having to buy more fruit.

Days got hotter as spring slowly evolved into summer. Her guest, she fretted, may actually start to get too hot cooped up in there. She could try and run an extension cord outside and set up a fan, but then she got nervous that the moth would become curious and lose a finger to the blades. Whisper sighed. She’d think about it later.

Today, she decided, she would do more gardening. The front was lined with beautiful blooming blue flowers, but the back was pretty darn empty. Besides, maybe her new friend enjoyed flowers. She had grown wildflower mix, plus some sweet basil, indoors for a few weeks and was ready to set them outside.

Potting soil, check. Watering can, check. Trowel, missing. Right, she had never actually found what she needed the last time she had gardened. She’d just have to dig through all her garbage again in an attempt to find the miniature shovel.

The shed door squeaked and scraped as it swung carefully open, blowing out heated air into Whisper’s ruddy face. She fanned herself. Inside, her lungs struggled against the almost humid air circulating through the cluttered building. Being inside made her even more worried about the critter.

At the sound of footsteps, a certain someone showed her face. Whisper could see the twitching antenna before she saw the black, compounded, watchful eyes.

“Hello there,” she called quietly. “I’m just looking for something, it’s okay. I don’t have any food,”

So Whisper began, once more, to search. After a few moments of steady observation, the moth climbed atop of a stack of boxes, clinging to them with her six limbs. From her higher ground she watched her impromptu human-caretaker bending and shoveling and rearranging. She still didn’t totally trust this pink creature, but she did not feel threatened anymore. Instead, she was curious.

What was she looking for? Soon the beet red girl was akimbo and panting. The hairless face peered up at her and the moth flinched.

“Do you know where the trowel is?”

Silence.

The girl rubbed her chin, grabbed a crumpled piece of paper and a stick of square graphite, and scribbled unsteadily. Then, she lifted up the drawing into the light for the moth to see. She pointed at it.

“This. A trowel. Have you seen it? Can you understand any of this?”

The moth cocked her head and stared. Whisper sighed and dropped her arm. Then in one swift motion the moth returned to her hiding spot and started to rummage ruthlessly. Whisper, having not noticed, continued to look.

A few minutes passed, and Whisper was about to give up. Then a clink-clank clattered in the middle of the shed, causing her to start and jolt around. The bowl from which Whisper fed her insect friend wobbled, upset by the weight of the metal inside of its maw. The trowel!

She rushed forward and retrieved it from the bowl, looking up with a wide grin spread across her red cheeks. The moth stayed about a foot away and closed in around itself, her too-long wings swaddling her. Scared, but not absconding.

Whisper looked from the tool to her new friend, and in desire to show her gratitude, she slowly stepped forward. The moth lowered herself down even more, antenna back and eyes ever watching. When Whisper got close, she opened and snapped her vertical jaws in quick succession.

Clickclickclickclickclick.

The human stopped. She was giving the other time to dart away, but she never did. Whisper reached out a hand, prompting the insect to duck her head even further and to lay her antenna nearly flat against her cranium.

“Thank you,” whispered the grateful human.

A gentle hand just barely placed itself on top of the moth’s head. She affectionately moved her thumb across the dusty fur, before removing the appendage. She didn’t want to spook the thing more than it already was.

The moth looked up in awe. Whisper was already walking away! Encouraged and emboldened by the kind touch, the insect scrambled after her on her six legs. She stood up at the open shed door, watching from the frame as Whisper went back to her gardening, trowel in hand.

She put her gloves on, dug out a small hole with the little tool, and buried a biodegradable pot in the ground. Whisper loved wildflowers. They were so good for the local bees and gave nutrition to the soil. She smiled, and continued planting as sweat trickled down her face and arms. Her glasses slid down and she wiggled them back up by scrunching her sharp nose.

The moth glanced up at the hot sun. She shuttered away back into the darkness of the shed, but then found herself again suffocating in the confined space. She looked longingly again out at the back of the working human. She looked at the trowel in Whisper’s hand. She looked at the flowers. Then, she decided.

Whisper peeked over her shoulder when she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye. She squeaked, falling on her butt. T-the bug! She was right there! She was all opened up, standing at her full five foot height, and eying Whisper with confusion.

Why fall over? wondered the moth. She wasn’t that frightening of a creature to have warranted such a response. In any case, Whisper had fallen out of the way. She left a lovely line to the freshly planted wildflowers that looked absolutely delectable. Fruit was good, but flowers were better.

She got down and crawled forward, maw parting to allow her long, curled tongue to slither out. Her antenna twitched as she poked at a pink clover. Yum yum yum! It wrapped tenderly around the stalk then retreated back into her mouth, taking it all with her. Her jaw snapped and crushed the tasty little morsel. She hadn’t had flowers in a while, and was tickled inside and out!

Whisper watched, dumbfound. Her guest began to munch away at everything she had just planted. Whisper looked horrified and rose her palms up.

“No! D-don’t eat those, it took a month to grow those flowers!”

The moth flinched, stopped eating for but a second, then snagged more clover. She chomped down, then sat on her bottom and stared at Whisper. She didn’t understand language, but she could certainly tell the other was displeased with her. It was hard to feel frightened or upset with a belly full of such wonderful treats.

With happiness, the moth tilted her head back and screeched, bottom limbs stretching as she expelled her excitement. Then she kept staring. How could someone who gave her something so nice be scary? This was a good creature. A very good creature.

A skinny, alien arm extended outward towards the fur-less animal. It touched Whisper’s head then returned to its owner.

Whisper took the gesture in. The other had… mimicked her. A smile slowly etched over her, and then she bore shining teeth. She couldn’t remain upset at the half eaten flower bed any longer. “Y-you’re… very intelligent,” she stated.

The moth’s jagged mouth was still grinding now and then, as if still processing the dessert. Whisper watched her a second more before sighing. She stood up and offered a hand down.

“Do you… want to come inside my house? Where it’s nice and cool?”

The other didn’t understand, but clasped the offering anyways. They stood, and Whisper lead her through the back door.

“You’ll be more comfortable in here,” Whisper smiled, closing the door behind them. “But if you make a mess… you’re going back outside,” she added.

Instantly the insect melted over the couch. Astounding. Ahhh, the air was so comfortable and refreshing, and this bedding was far more superior than the quilt in the hot shed.

She murmured and wrapped herself up in her long tattered wings. Her body was heavy and tired. She felt so weighed down, perhaps this was a proper place to rest. With her companion around she was safe, even if the area where she lay was open and exposed.

It took some getting used to have such a strange roommate. The moth napped often on the couch, and occasionally the rug, but had taken to nesting in her bathtub. The living room was a perfectly good place to roost, but when it became dark, or when the moth was left alone, she preferred to burrow into her ocean of blankets inside the curvature of porcelain. It made waking up to pee at one in the morning difficult.

Over the next few weeks, Whisper began to compile an essay inside her frenzied brain on exactly JUST how smart the bug was. The essay, however, was argumentative and addressed to herself. She was trying to decide what it was that this thing was, and why it was such.

At first she only seemed to understand pictures, but not words. If presented with the image of an apple and asked with a specific tone of voice, Whisper could urge the moth to fetch an apple from the kitchen. Just like with the trowel.

The moth learned quickly. After a few times, she understood what ‘apple’ meant. Whisper ended up doing this with several foods, until the creature could generally pick out ingredients from the kitchen with ease when requested. For some reason though, the moth apparently refused to understand 'cinnamon,’ or at least pretended to.

This was also the method Whisper used to give her a name. Clover. Green, pink, soft and sweet. Clover; the perfect name. She would always respond to the word with a twitch of her antenna and focused eyes on Whisper. It was endearing.

Despite decent memorization skills, writing was impossible. Upon attempting to teach her how to write out a-p-p-l-e, Clover became aggravated and all but ate the paper. But, when watching Whisper poorly draw an apple, she became compliant again and mimicked the shape well enough with her opposable tongue around a pencil. Clover could draw generally well if shown, but it did not come naturally.

So, as far as language went, the moth was certainly clever. Perhaps not on par with humanity, but self aware and able to understand. She was simply more visual than a human. Whisper couldn’t help but wonder if writing would be simpler to teach if the moth were young.

Clover had a sense of time. She has issues with individual numbers when written, however she started to understand the 'number’ of a time with tick marks and fingers. Like most animals, including humans, she was able to distinguish numbers when she saw them. Two fingers was two fingers. Two fingers means it is a specific part of the evening or morning. Though, unlike Whisper, she did not care for specific time and preferred her internal clock. Morning, evening, dusk, night. That’s all there was and should be. She didn’t like reading Whisper’s fingers.

And, perhaps Whisper’s favorite characteristic of the insect’s intelligence, was her emotional intelligence. Despite not being of the same species, Clover caught on to Whisper’s wide range of expressions within days of moving in. She easily understood Whisper’s tone. Most interestingly of all, the moth had once tried to comfort her.

It had been about a week and a half prior to the current essay Whisper was formatting inwardly. She had gotten a call from her father, who informed her that Whisper’s grandmother had passed. Though they’d never been terribly close, her grandmother was a sweet woman who babysat her often as a child. She had made her that quilt. There were fond memories.

So Whisper had been sad. Clover had sensed this in her voice and downcast expression. When Whisper let herself gently cry the moth had chittered next to her, stared as she was prone to do, and bundled her up into her long, soft wings. She had attempted to socially groom Whisper’s hair to bring the girl some comfort, and Whisper had appreciated it greatly. Then, the next morning, Whisper woke to Clover holding the half-empty bread bag at her bedside, wanting to feed her sad friend.

Modernly, Whisper was thinking in her chair. Or she was at least trying to, but the moth was apparently in a very pleasant mood and causing quite the distraction.

The critter was on all sixes on top of Whisper’s bed. She occasionally bobbed her head like an excitable lovebird and chirped at her. Her wings shook, as if preparing for flight on a chilly winter morning. Then, without warning, she flipped over on her back and kicked all the covers off the bed. Clover was bored.

Whisper sighed, slumping her cheek against her palm. She rose a brow.

“Think you’re done?”

Clover tilted her head back and looked at the human upside down. She clacked her jaws then turned to her belly and crawled off the bed. Soon she made it over and plopped her head into Whisper’s lap, big compound eyes shining up into Whisper’s neutral ones. Sometimes Whisper wondered what went on in the bug’s brain.

Their eyes remained locked until Whisper smiled softly. She forgot all about her internal essay and instead laid a hand on the mop of curly fur to finger through the wavy strands.

The moth relaxed, shoulders going slack. If she could shut her eyes, she would have. Yes, attention! Attention! She just wanted attention. It seemed like she always wanted attention. Lately she found herself moody and more affectionate. She just wanted to curl up and be petted, or to be laid back and hand fed sweet tasting flowers, preferably the ones of her namesake.

She cooed and rested her cheek against Whisper’s lap drowsily, energy expended. She had also been napping more frequently than usual. It was getting close to that time. Whisper didn’t seem to notice the rounder lower belly or the way her abdomen was starting to swell. She couldn’t sense changes in pheromones, the poor animal did not bare sensitive antennas.

The moth was pregnant, and it was nearing time to lay her fertilized eggs. Clover could imagine cuddling up to her larva and feeding them all manor of good food. Certainly here there was no shortage of it. Fruits, flowers, maybe she’d even go out and collect leaves. She clacked happily and nuzzled against Whisper’s soft, warm thigh.

She had also grown rather attached to Whisper. Her own kind could be dimwitted and selfish. They would leave you. But Whisper was smart and strong and kind. Whisper would protect her and the children. She hoped she never had to leave the safety of the confined, air conditioned spaces that smelled of her human’s skin and dander.

In Whisper’s lap was creation; the accumulation of generations. Evolution had somehow birthed this monster, who was sweetly snuggling up to her for a kind hand in her hair. The soft strands that fluffed up dust as she pet them comforted her. Her feral cat certainly did love touch. Whisper idly examined the head in her lap. She glanced over the hexagons of the eye, the slope of the jaw, and finally stopped over the broken antenna.

It was obvious it would never grow back, or else it would have by now. Whisper sometimes stared at it and felt her heart break, imagining how the creature could have possibly lost it. How dampened were Clover’s senses? Her hand traveled up and just barely graced against one of the shortened prongs.

Clover jerked in surprise, her head coming back up off the thigh. Click click. She studied Whisper, who was looking concerned.

“Does that hurt?”

She could sense that Whisper may have been worried that she’d been pained. Her head went back down to the inviting lap, showing she was perfectly fine. She’d just been surprised at the sudden touch was all. Whisper had never touched her antennas before. In fact, she wasn’t even sure if any other moth had either.

Her antenna were very sensitive instruments. They collected information about smells and sounds, and were immensely delicate. Perhaps their sensitivity to touch was comparable to a soft caress against one’s fingertips, or to the fleshy skin of the lips. To that knowledge, Clover’s antenna tingled.

Having returned to her position, Whisper assumed Clover was giving her the okay. She relaxed again, reaching out. The back of her fingers brushed against the prongs of the broken antenna, and Clover’s wings shuttered. Whisper felt her heart thump too hard.

Clover rolled her head, placing her whole face against the lap so that both of her antenna were exposed. She was opening them up to touch. Giving permission, Whisper thought. She didn’t know why it made her blush, but it did.

She held her hand palm up, and brushed it with the utmost care through the underside of the longer antenna. She went from base to tip, prongs flicking against fingers like a stick to a fence, and this time Clover’s whole body shook. Whisper swallowed thickly and returned to petting Clover’s head instead. The shaking stopped, and Whisper noticed that Clover released the tension she’d apparently been holding.

Feeling somewhat uneasy, Whisper let a hot breath slip from between her thinly lined lips. “It’s late, we should rest,” and knowing that Clover likely understood very little besides 'rest,’ added “Let’s go to sleep,”

Sleep, she understood sleep. Clover’s face lifted and she leaned away, thinking. Then, after a twitch of the antenna, she stood and patted Whisper on the head twice and left the bedroom. Sleep meant bathtub time.

With the moth gone relief washed over Whisper. Whatever had been ailing her recently felt much like a coiled spring in her gut, and it only released when she found herself alone. After a few weeks watching, talking to, and caring for Clover, the coil had begun to form. Specifically, it seemed to have started the day Whisper wandered into the kitchen to find that Clover had attempted to make her breakfast. Breakfast naturally consisted of buttered bread, two gooey eggs in a cold skillet, and a bowl of soggy cereal.

Whisper peeked out from behind the curtains. No moon or stars. The woods were pitch black, and she couldn’t see her shed at all. In the far distance, she saw the faint flicker of light against the sky. The summer storms had started. She hoped her outdoor plants could hold their own, and hoped with all her heart that Clover could too. It would get loud.

With that final thought, Whisper turned out the light and got cozy under the covers. Sleep washed over her like a crescendo of crickets and frogs. In her deep sleep she was not awoken by the cackling thunder that shook her walls. She was not awoken by the abduction-esque flicker of bright light through her curtains, and she was not awoken by her bedroom light being abruptly switched on at three in the morning. She was, however, startled quite awake when Clover screeched into her ears and shook her violently.

“Clover, Clover! Whhh- it’s oookay!” she slurred, brain still fogged over despite the adrenaline quickening her pulse.

She had just barely sat up in bed before Clover had attached herself to her body. Colors swirled in her vision and she struggled to slow her heart, but eventually her eyes focused again and calm breathing settled her heart.

The human rubbed Clover’s shaking back as the poor thing tittered. Those were the most pitiful sounds she’d heard in her god damn life.

“Shhhh, it’s just thunder and rain, you know what thunder and rain is,”

Clover squeaked and pressed her face tight against Whisper’s neck.

“Clover,” Whisper said. “Clover, dear, you’re going to choke me to death. Death, Clover, I said DEATH,”

She let up, but only enough to release her upper set of arms from around Whisper’s constricted body. Now they were face to face, and Clover was staring at Whisper for guidance.

Whisper wanted nothing more than to wrap her wings around the scared moth, just as she had done when Whisper was sad. She simply had no wings to wrap. For a long moment they shared eye contact, before Whisper patted the bed.

“Come up here,” she said calmly through drowsiness.

Clover obeyed and skittered up, but she remained pressed hard against Whisper’s side. With some fussing, Whisper got Clover under the blankets and bundled the softest one around her shivering body. Whisper’s comforting presence and the confined weight of the blanket alleviated some skittishness, but Clover was still very much on edge.

Whisper petted her and watched her body language as they sat silently in bed, listening to the rumble outside that knocked a stray branch against the roof.

The moth wished she could communicate better. If only humans could detect the subtle changes in air borne pheromones or the variance in jaw clicking, then Whisper would understand her gratefulness.

She’d gone to nest easily, then at some point a massive beast battered the house and lit the small bathroom window. Clover has held out as long as she could, but her instinct to flee overcame in the end. That’s how she ended up in Whisper’s surprised arms. That’s why she was swaddled so carefully.

“We should go back to sleep,” mumbled Whisper, eyes barely open.

Clover scooted closer, her pathetic keening over. She trusted that she would live, so long as Whisper was not afraid. But she refused to leave.

Whisper gave a half yawn and wrapped her arm around Clover, holding her tight as she said “Alright, you can sleep with me tonight, just don’t wake me up again. I mean it. Please,”

So she turned out the light and climbed back into bed, forcing Clover to lay down and be still. Clover pressed taut against Whisper’s back, all six of her limbs holding on for dear life.

Whisper grumbled. Her body was flush against the feeling of being spooned. She figured Clover would stay close, but she was neither prepared for her internal reaction, nor the air being squeezed out of her. She squirmed and plucked at the two-fingered hands. Clover got the message and loosened up.

It was hard to fall asleep now. She was hyper aware of every slight move Clover made. Clover, too, appeared to have difficulty resting with the ear shattering rain flooding against roof tiles. After an hour, Whisper noted the slackness of Clover’s body against her own. She was asleep. Whisper smiled grimly. Clover found it easier to sleep through the terrifying sound than Whisper did with Clover touching her. That coil curled around her belly again, like butterflies flapping their wings in preparation to escape her throat.

Her back started to ache from laying so stiff. With much anxiety, Whisper slowly turned to her back, adjusting bug arms as she went. Clover stirred, and rested her forehead against Whisper’s cheek. For a moment Whisper worried that she’d woken her, but all she did as she shifted was slip a hand under Whisper’s gown and over her stomach.

Shitshitshit! Whisper stared at the ceiling. Her face wasn’t the only place radiating warmth. However Clover was still fast asleep, and Whisper was too stunned to dare remove the hand from her bare skin. It took her another hour and a half before she calmed herself enough to fall asleep, and by then the raging storm had slowed to a gentle downpour.

Whisper woke first. She’d slept an hour more than usual, a testament to her late slumber. When her eyes opened they met the lifeless ones of a still dreaming Clover. Seemed they were facing each other. The important thing to note was how Clover’s jaw was slack and drool was pooling on the pillow. Whisper carefully sat up and away from the cold damp stain before her ear got wet.

When Whisper went to her computer to work after breakfast Clover was still fast asleep. It was late in the evening before she barely stirred from her position in bed.

“Good morning sleepy head,” Whisper smirked. “you slept straight on til five!” she held up five fingers.

Clover chittered at the edge of the bed. She counted the fingers and rubbed her belly thoughtfully, before bolting up and skittering off to the kitchen for some dinner. Wow, she really passed the fuck out. Whisper had just been so warm! Her presence had worked magic and placed her into a deep, deep sleep. She felt so refreshed! So full of energy! So hungry!

Whisper stood against the mouth of the hall and watched a ravenous Clover rummage around for fruit. She ended up munching on a bag of grapes and nearly devoured half a watermelon. Whisper actually had to scold her, as Clover had bit straight into the rind instead of having the human slice the melon open. There was a bit of clean up.

The moth ended up sitting hunched on the couch, belly bloated from eating too much too fast. Whisper rubbed slow circles over her back while idly watching the television. Nothing was really on, so she casually listened to the gentle voice of a narrator walking her through a cheetah stalking its prey.

“Serves you right Clover,” Whisper tisked. “That rind didn’t go down easy did it! I bet none of the other mysterious giant insects are like this,”

Clover gurgled a pathetic response. She leaned against Whisper affectionately, making Whisper blush. The human continued to watch T.V. until the end of the documentary, and by then Clover felt better.

The moth wandered over to the window by the T.V. and poked her head around the curtains. She was satisfied to watch butterflies floating by and bees stopping to sample Whisper’s handiwork. But then on the bird feeder a disturbance caught her energetic attention. A squirrel! It was attempting to swipe bird feed for itself!

Clover tapped the glass, but the feeder hung far enough away from the house to not bother the rodent. The moth looked back at Whisper, who was flipping through stations randomly. Then she once more turned back to the squirrel. Clover bristled. In a flash she was at the front door, throwing it wide open and making a fuss at the fluffy thief.

It froze, swinging gently on the feeder. Clover stomped forward, wings held high and battering together. The great four eyes across the plains appeared to blink and flash at the innocent animal, effectively frightening the shit out of it. It fled to a tree with a warning cry.

Success! Perhaps she made for a better guard dog than feral cat. Clover stood under the humid gray sky, hands on her hips.

Whisper giggled from the concrete porch, and was replied to with a twitch of the antenna and a gleeful click of the jaw. Clover pointed at the feeder and looked between them excitedly.

Whisper giggled again. “Yes yes, I saw, you spooked the bejeebers outta that poor squirrel,”

Clover then simply stood there staring at the bird feeder. Eventually she tip-toed closer to the tree in the middle of the yard, examining the bark and looking up high into the oak branches. Her antenna perked up, dropped, then perked up, as if combing for information in the air.

Soon Whisper came out to her. She stood casually under the tree, watching her friend have her fun. Clover scrambled up onto a branch with ease and began collecting sun-soaked oak leaves, rodent forgotten.

“Whatcha’ doin’?” asked Whisper, amused.

Clover didn’t understand, but responded with little clicks anyway. Then she went still, antenna stiff. Whisper called to her and got no reply. She furrowed her brows. Suddenly Clover screeched, dropped her sizable collection of leaves, and clambered as fast as she could down the trunk. When a warm raindrop plopped against Whisper’s cheek she understood why. It was beginning to rain.

“Guess we’d better-”

SCREEECH!

Clover grabbed Whisper’s wrist and started to tug her away, but just as they’d barely stumbled from out under the tree a crack of thunder roared through the sky. The moth let go, nearly leaping a foot in the air with fright, then fell painfully onto her bottom. She whimpered.

“Come on come on,” fretted Whisper, pulling the poor thing up. “quickly, before we get electrocuted!”

Then the rain came down, down, down, with absolutely no regard for dry humans or moth dust. Summer storms sucked! Whisper thought the rain wouldn’t be here for at least another two hours, but the weather wasn’t always so easily predicted.

Whisper pretty much had to shove Clover on to get any ground covered, despite the fact they were just a few dozen feet from the door. The door was shut and locked, downpour content to rage on without them.

When Whisper turned with a sigh to address Clover, she found herself to be alone. Clover wasn’t in the living room. The wet trail of rainwater gave her a pretty good idea of where to find her, though.

She followed the trail down the hall, which turned off into the bathroom. In the middle of the bathtub was a shaking lump of blankets. Whisper flicked the light on and sat on her knees in front of the tub.

“Clover! It’s alright! No need to hide,”

Clover poked her head out at the voice, antenna laid back. She looked soaked; the rain had significantly dampened her fur. She felt gross and heavy. The quilt around her slacked as she reached out and hugged Whisper around the shoulders with her upper set of arms.

Whisper rubbed her back, but was gravely upset to find bits of fur rubbed off against her hand. No wonder why Clover was so terrified of storms! She sincerely hoped that grew back.

Thunder rumbled the house and the lights flickered then promptly went out. Clover clacked in response and stared at Whisper with uncertainty until Whisper climbed into the tub.

She found herself holding Clover gently while trying not to make any more bald spots. Despite the circumstances, Whisper was learning to accept the steady beat of her heart every time she had Clover against her body.

Clover had her head against the crook of the human’s neck. She was sitting sideways between Whisper’s legs, blanket against her back. She was in a calm, warm nook. It soothed her greatly. Then she jerked with surprise and shuttered; the familiar softness of Whisper’s fingers brushed against her intact antenna.

Whisper was slow and careful. She didn’t want to scare or upset Clover any more than the storm had. At least petting the antennas would not make fur rub off- that was the excuse she gave herself when she did it. The vibration against her skin nearly stopped her breathing. The reaction her body gave her made Whisper feel nothing short of guilt.

When Whisper stopped, eyes falling, Clover’s head nuzzled into her still lingering palm. She wanted her to continue. Whisper swallowed, letting her pointer go along a prong.

This time Clover’s hold tightened around her, her two-fingered hands clenching and unclenching. Thunder shook the house, and Clover didn’t even notice. She simply couldn’t help it. She was due any day now, and her poor swollen abdomen was aching to lay soon. The stimulation she’d been receiving as of late was begging her to do something. It was obvious to her that Whisper reciprocated, even if Whisper couldn’t tell there was anything to reciprocate to. Should she act?

Whisper’s hand stroked down the antenna, then down the broken one, and she whole hardheartedly wanted to kiss Clover on the side of her head. She took in a strained breath, then released it like a sigh. The thick atmosphere simultaneously put her systems on edge and made her want to fall into a nap with Clover in her arms.

“There, there,” she whispered. “are you feeling any better?”

Clover squeaked. It made Whisper grin and giggle. The grin quickly flipped to surprise as Clover’s second set of hands shifted down to her inner thighs. Whisper’s instinct was to jump away at such a bold touch, but the back of the bath held her firmly in place. Her hands went down and grabbed Clover’s wrists.

“C-Clover!” she stuttered, eyes wide. “Careful, we don’t… you don’t touch down there,” Whisper informed, assuming Clover was none the wiser to human anatomy. The moth obviously didn’t mean to act suggestively; she just didn’t realize how close she was to… Whisper’s face was beet red.

Of course, Clover’s senses were far better than Whisper’s. She knew what she was doing. She pulled her head away to look Whisper in the eyes, jaw making small chewing movements like in thought. Whisper eventually let go of her wrists, so Clover allowed them to remain planted motionlessly on the thighs. She didn’t risk moving them any further, even though she could pick up that Whisper was beyond flustered and accepting.

Clover kept her antenna low, and produced a quiet, comforting purr from her throat. It wasn’t exactly like a cat, but it was no doubt a purr. She parted her jagged jaw and lolled her insect tongue, which swiped across Whisper’s neck.

This time Whisper shuttered. She grimaced, legs subconsciously parting further, her hands to Clover’s slim hips. She already felt the throb between her legs, and felt terribly exposed with Clover there between them. She still had guilt, but there was also a part in her mind that was absolutely thrilled at the premise of being with anything non-human. Clover was no alien, but she was.. well, she was Clover. Adorable, compassionate, somewhat frightening Clover.

Clover leaned in again and licked her neck a second time, nice and slow. In response Whisper tilted her head, hands gripping firmly around Clover’s hips. Whisper could feel the sharp edges of Clover’s 'teeth,’ wrapping around her delicate flesh. She gasped when pressure was applied.

Now that Whisper was giving off more submissive vibes, Clover let her hands finally move again. The second set roamed down around the soft, fatty inner thighs, following the warmth to its center. Whisper gasped again, her grip on Clover’s hips becoming almost painful.

She purred more, the rumble moving through her teeth against Whisper’s neck. Relax. The hands rubbed at her crotch, then a finger poked at it. The moth was thoroughly annoyed that humans wore an outer skin. She took her teeth away and chittered, pulling at the edge of Whisper’s shorts.

Eyes half-lidded and lips parted, Whisper eventually helped to remove her shorts. It took a bit of re-adjusting in the blanket nest of the bath. She was fully giving into this. She was actually going to let Clover do- whatever it was Clover was going to do. How DID a giant insect have sex? She began to worry that they weren’t compatible.

Clover was satisfied with pressing her palm underneath the fabric of Whisper’s panties. They weren’t much of a hindrance, so she didn’t bother with attempting to yank them off.

The two sat on their knees, Whisper removed her glasses and leaned on Clover for support while Clover palmed at her wet folds. She pressed a finger to the entrance, not even trying to stretch her or wait. It didn’t come naturally to her kind to do 'preparations,’ it generally didn’t hurt and went quickly.

Whisper held on, head to her shoulder, while Clover probed her. Those teeth went to Whisper’s shoulder in turn, nuzzling her shirt away, and- and ow! Whisper lifted her head and hissed. She felt liquid run down the curve and stain her shirt’s collar.

“What the fuck Clover?” she chided.

Clover smacked her jaw and licked away at her stained mouth. She didn’t seem bothered at all that she’d just imprinted her teeth straight into Whisper’s flesh. Her tongue lapped over the wound, dragging blood into her mouth like a cat to the water bowl. She suddenly curved her finger and Whisper’s breathing hitched in surprise; the jolt of pleasure shot through her gut while her shoulder ached and oozed.

Then the hand was taken away. Clover roughly twisted Whisper, turning her around and pressing her to her hands and knees.

“I-” Whisper laughed dryly “-didn’t know y-you could be so.. imposing,”

Clover pressed her chest to Whisper’s back, nuzzling up against her affectionately. She cooed, her tail-like abdomen twitching. With the help of the tub and Whisper’s back, Clover all but held over her human caretaker, abdomen between her bottom set of arms like a scared dog. The swollen furry lump brushed against Whisper’s lower back and rear.

Whisper looked upside down between her arms, brows knitted. “So how are you going to… o-oh!”

A semi-prehensile ovipositor emerged from the tip of the abdomen.

“That’s how!” Whisper buried her face in the quilt below her. Grandmother forgive her for fucking on top of that lovingly handcrafted blanket.

The ovipositor struggled for a bit, poking at the damp panties before Whisper held them out of the way. She shut her eyes and took a breath. It pressed snug to her entrance and started to sink inside. Whisper let the breath slowly escape her lips as it filled her pussy. She ached a bit, as despite not being extremely thick, it had to have been at least nine inches long. Only about seven fit.

Clover seemed pleased. Her claws gripped Whisper tightly, holding her firmly in place as she started mating. She moved slightly, abdomen lifting a little then pressing back in. Clover kept an easy pace. Not too slow, not too fast.

Whisper hadn’t had sex in years, so her poor needy pussy produced more than enough lubricant for the deed. It clenched and unclenched around Clover’s ovipositor as she fucked her, drawing it in deeper whenever it plunged in. Clover made a low sound Whisper hadn’t heard before, prompting a smirk from the human below her.

“Is that good?” panted Whisper.

Clover clicked her jaws, thrusting in particularly hard and prompting a quiet groan from Whisper. After a few more lusty thrusts Whisper wiggled and urged Clover to move. Clover, annoyed and confused, complied with some loud complaining. She didn’t want to stop! Whisper was just being mean.

Whisper had Clover lay back, head and upper body cradled by the curve of the bath. She straddled her and then without any warning Clover pressed inside again, just as Whisper barely got situated. Whisper sighed, sitting down on it as far as she could. It was strange trying to ride an ovipositor that extended from the abdomen, but it felt great. The position hit a wonderful angle. Clover almost ceased moving all together while Whisper pleased her.

“Ahhh,” Whisper keened. She leaned, one hand propped against the bath rim and the other reaching out to stroke an antenna.

Clover’s whole body shook, and she started thrusting up again. She was erratic, barely able to take the stimulation of both forms of pleasure. Her first and second set of arms wrapped tightly around Whisper, dragging her down against Clover’s chest while she did the rest of the work. It didn’t take more than a few seconds more before her rough, deep thrusting halted inside of the human, and Clover’s mouth gripped a second time around Whisper’s exposed neck.

Whisper held deathly still, almost frightened that Clover would accidentally kill her. She felt the teeth press harder and harder against her neck, and she shut her eyes. A bit of blood dribbled, running down her collarbone, but it wasn’t significant enough to kill her. Sure did sting though.

Clover jerked. Another inch slipped in; eight wonderful, cervix penetrating, pulsating inches. Whisper was sore. What sounded almost like a relieved sigh escaped Clover’s clamped jaws as she began to finally deposit her eggs.

Whisper’s brows lifted and she struggled in the grasp, confused at the sensation of a hard lump passing through her canal. Clover, however, held on tight. Her jaws put down more pressure, keeping Whisper in place. Another puncture made Whisper hiss in pain. A second sliver-thin stream of blood pooled downward, joining the steadily drying blood on her collar.

“What are you doing, Clover?” whispered the human, throat in pain. “A-ah!”

Multiple eggs passed into her warm womb. Through the ache her legs shook, clit throbbing with desperate need for stimulation. She could feel the weight as it rounded her lower stomach with each intruding deposit.

With some careful, leisurely re-adjusting, Whisper slipped a hand between their compressed bodies without getting a fuss from her partner. She rubbed herself slowly, wrist rather tight on space to move.

Clover jerked again, and Whisper gasped, gritting her teeth. The last inch of the ovipositor slipped in. Inside, the appendage pumped three more fist-sized eggs through her pussy, each one rubbing along the tight inner walls. They pressed against the propped open entrance to her cramped womb, causing a small blockage.

The teeth around her neck let up, and Clover lapped the blood into her drooling maw. She laid her head backward into the curve, jostling her abdomen just-so in an attempt to cram the blockage in where it needed to be.

Whisper laid her head against the other’s shoulder, tired body twitching as she let herself come. Her walls tightened and un-tightned as white light flashed over her vision. “Ahhh f-fuck! Clover,” she bit her lip.

The last deposit squeezed into her waiting uterus. As soon as Clover was done, she pulled out.

The removal hurt, leaving Whisper with a dull throbbing ache. The two laid lax in the tub, and after a moment of rest Clover wrapped her wings protectively around Whisper. Whisper smiled, nuzzling against the side of Clover’s head, and gave it a kiss.

“You made me bleed you dusty asshole,”

Clover didn’t even have the energy to click her jaws in reply.

Outside the storm had since softened, rain quietly beating down against the roof tiles. In the distance a muffled grumble thrummed the belly of the storm. It moved on in search of new light to eat.

EPILOGUE

Much to Whisper’s dismay, it turned out that the larva would either die inside of her or attempt to rip their way out of her womb if she went with live birth. Instead, after a few days of wonderful internal incubation, Clover had aided Whisper in laying the unhatched clutch. They rested inside the bathtub, all cozied up and warm inside the blankets. Today they were hatching.

The two sat at either end of the tub as the blankets stirred. Clover wiggled and cooed and waited intently.

Whisper lifted up the edge of the blanket and peeked inside with a curious gaze. One of the eggs stirred, and Clover wiggled again.

“Look,” Whisper removed the blanket on top of the clutch. “It’s finally happening!”

The egg broke, a piece of the brown outer shell opening up. Out wiggled a green-ish, fuzzy caterpillar half the length of Whisper’s forearm. A few more eggs began to jostle. Soon the clutch was covered in curious, hungry larva, all wriggling about looking for something good to eat.

Clover clicked down at them affectionately and leaned over the edge of the tub. She dropped bright blue flowers and sweet smelling clover down onto the babies. They happily munched away at their first meal.

“Never thought I’d be mothering giant worms with.. well, you,” Whisper smirked, cheek against her fist and elbow on the side of the bath. She idly pushed her glasses up with a knuckle.

Clover was so pleased! This was her first clutch in a long while. With Whisper beside her, they were all sure to grow to maturity and move off into the world. She didn’t expect to lose a single larva this time. Suddenly something caught her compound eye. There was a single unhatched egg among the clambering children.

She reached down and picked the egg up. Maybe, she admitted with some sadness, she would lose a larva after all. Had this one been blank, or had the baby died inside? She stared at it longingly for some time. After a while something inside moved. It cracked and the fuzzy head of a larva poked out shyly.

Clover tittered, body full of love and excitement. She picked the baby up from out the egg and looked it over. It seemed sluggish and smaller than the rest, but it was alive. She held it out to Whisper to see.

Whisper took the larva in her arms and it wriggled slowly, if not restlessly, on her arm. The baby smelled food and was starving! Whisper giggled and lifted up a few clovers that had been left. The caterpillar took hold of the blossoms with its mouth and nibbled away. Whisper, too, couldn’t help but feel excitement and, if she were honest with herself, love.

#monster romance #exophilia #eggs #lesbian #giant moth #writing

[sweetness47]

Chocolate Almonds

Pairing AU Alpha! Cas x Omega! Reader

@castielspnbingo​ – amnesia

@spnabobingo​ – chocolate/coconut/almond

@spngenrebingo​ – Castiel

WARNINGS: MATURE 18+ READERS ONLY!!! Smut, abo themes, knotting, heat, rut, amnesia, angst, fluff

Word count: 1925

It was a horrible weakness, her one Achilles heel, and she always kicked herself for it. Especially when she did midnight runs to the local convenience store. She swore that one day, chocolate covered almonds would be the death of her.

She never heard anything behind her, walking to the beat of her play list, munching on the sweet crunchy chocolate delights. When the hand snaked around her face, cupping her mouth so she couldn’t scream, then another strong arm grabbed her around her waist, dragging her to the nearby alley, where the promise of something horrible awaited.

She managed to get one scream out when he threw her to the ground, but the assailant slammed her head hard against a dumpster, ceasing any more rescue thoughts.

But luck was on her side.

Castiel was walking home from the bar. He was just a regular guy, sort of. A self made millionaire. But he never fell into the rich snob category. Cas was a kind, gentle soul, one that was always willing to get his hands dirty for a good cause.

He heard the scream but only one. He listened, his hearing picking up movement by the dumpster in the alley. Quietly, he went toward the commotion, his gut instincts telling him to check the noise out.

The assailant was surprised as he was viciously pulled from his victim, and flung into a nearby puddle. He looked over at Cas, sizing him up for a takedown. Cas was faster, stronger, subduing his opponent in seconds, then calling the cops to pick him up.

The young woman was unconscious, half naked, but still covered. The bastard who attacked her hadn’t been able to finish what he started, which was good, but she needed care. The gash on the right side of her temple was bleeding and needed to be cleaned and bandaged. Gently, he picked her up and took her to his apartment not two blocks away. He was careful to cover her first, his jacket placed modestly over her ripped blouse. Within 15 minutes, he was crossing the threshold to his penthouse suite, guest in tow.

After she didn’t wake the first time, he phoned his friend Dean, a paramedic, to come and take a look at her. Dean would be able to assess if she needed to go to the hospital. Cas had cleaned the wound and bandaged it, but it had been over 12 hours. After examining the woman, checking her vitals, taking a look at the cut, Dean reassured Cas she was ok. Her body was resting, which was good for her. He told his friend that if she didn’t wake by day three, then he should bring her in, and have her assessed for brain injury.

Ever the gentleman, Cas grabbed a blanket and put it over his guest, and left her a note, and a change of clothes, in case she woke while he slept.

His sense of smell woke him around 7am, the tantalizing aroma of bacon and eggs too good to ignore. He frowned though, momentarily forgetting that he wasn’t alone in the suite. Then he remembered the night before last, the woman he’d saved, an Omega. Getting up, he donned jeans and a tee, ran his fingers through his charcoal black hair.

~~

YN woke up in momentary panic, wondering where she was. Her head was fuzzy, and it hurt like hell. Gingerly she put her fingers to the bandage, wincing as she came in contact with the still fresh cut. She studied her torn clothes, then the blanket and the living room. That’s when she saw the fresh clothes and the note.

Picking up the piece of paper, she read the words:

Hello,

I don’t want you to be scared. I rescued you from the alley two nights ago and brought you to my home. I cleaned and bandaged your wound, and left you some fresh clothes to change in to. They aren’t women’s clothes, but they should do for now.

Please feel free to use the shower located across from the couch where you woke. Also, please help yourself to the food in my kitchen. There’s also coffee in the cupboard and creamer in the fridge. If you need anything just knock on my door. My room is the one at the end of the hall behind where you slept.

Castiel James Novak

She smiled to herself. This man risked his safety to save her? Flashes of a man dragging her to the alley tore through her head. She rubbed her temples gently, mindful of the gash. She wondered if somewhere he kept Tylenol or Advil, cuz she had one massive migraine.

She did find Tylenol, took two, then looked at what the kitchen offered in the way of breakfast. She found bacon, eggs, bread. Perfect. She found a frying pan and spatula, and set to work.

About 20 minutes into her cooking, a rather dashing man walked into the living area, his dark hair freshly slept on, and she had to contain a giggle. It added to the handsome part though. In fact, this man could fall in a large puddle of mud, and still come out looking like an Adonis.

“Morning.” His voice was like honey.

“Hi.” She said, blushing. “I made enough food for two, if you want. I hope that’s ok.”

He nodded. “I did give you permission to eat. So yes, that’s fine. And thank you for the food. it smells delicious.”

She motioned to the dining table, where plates and cutlery had already been set out. She brought over the bacon and scooped some scrambled eggs on to his plate, then onto her own. A plate of toast sat beside the bacon, prompting Cas to grab two pieces, as well as three strips of bacon.

Coffee had also been brewed, and a steaming cup sat by his plate. He brought the hot mug to his lips and sipped. “The coffee’s perfect. Even I can’t get it that good. What’s your secret?”

YN frowned. “To be honest, I’m not sure. I can’t remember my name, the events of last night are hazy, and yet I can cook and make amazing coffee.”

He chuckled at the last part. “I second that. I might have to hire you to make me coffee, and food if this breakfast is any indication as to your kitchen skills.”

It was her turn to giggle. “I might have to take that offer if I can’t remember who I am.”

He got up and moved to the table by the couch. “Your purse remained untouched from what I could gather. It hadn’t been opened. Perhaps this will help.”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

She took the black leather bag, and right away noticed the phone with the ear plugs in. She opened the zipper and found her wallet and ID. “Hmmmm, YFN YLN.”

He was intrigued. “YN. It’s suits you. Does it have an address?” she nodded. “Once we finish breakfast, I’ll drive you home if you want.”

They finished eating and cleaned the dishes. Cas grabbed some socks and a jacket, and grabbed a sweater for YN, who’s jacket was filthy from the attempted assault.

The drive wasn’t far, and they arrived at her home within a few minutes. He got out and opened the door for her. A decent sized two story bungalow greeted them, the outside clean and in good repair. The inside was just as stunning, rich dark wood floors, contrasted with a white sofa and loveseat, a very impressive kitchen, bigger than his, and three bedrooms. He had to admit to being somewhat jealous as he toured the home.

“Nice place.” He commented.

“I’m having a hard time believing it’s mine, or that I live alone. This is way too big.” YN walked around, looking at pictures of family she didn’t remember. On the dining table sat a bowl of chocolate covered almonds, and YN absently picked a handful up and began munching on them.

He watched her. “Chocolate Almonds? I remember seeing them scattered around the area where I found you.”

She looked down at the sweet treats, pursing her lips. “I think they are weakness of mine. They are my comfort go to food.”

His deep throaty chuckle had the Omega in her wet with need. And he was starting to smell like Chocolate covered almonds.

God, she was going into heat? With an Alpha nearby she’d only just met, who smelled divine? Shit.

It was at that moment Castiel noticed the stronger scent emanating from YN, and the Alpha in him stirred. She reminded him of a summer breeze, of a field of wild flowers and a hint of honey. She was starting a heat, and she smelled like heaven.

Fan fucking tastic.

Not that they found each other unattractive, but the having only just met made the next sentence somewhat awkward. YN spoke first. “My heat, I’ve never had this kind of reaction around an Alpha before. Your scent, it’s intoxicating. It’s exactly like my favorite candy.” She said, gesturing toward the chocolates.

Cas had the decency to blush. “I’ve never smelled anything so delicious, and especially not from an Omega.”

He growled, reaching for her, and YN didn’t resist, pulling him as he pulled her, their lips teasing, kissing, teeth biting, nibbling. She led him to her room, their bodies crashing together on the bed, hands tearing at each other’s clothing.

“Alpha!” she pleaded.

His response was to shed what remained of his clothes and hers, his hand exploring her body, caressing the soft flesh between her thighs. His fingers dipped inside her heat, moving slowly, and YN moaned, bucking her hips, silent pleading for more. Cas continued thrusting his digits into her, and she could feel the tightening in her abdomen, the build of one hell of an orgasm. It crashed into her like a tidal wave, hard and with enough force to stop a locomotive. She screamed his name, coating his fingers with her juices.

Cas lined up the tip of his hard cock with her hole, rubbing along the slit to gather some of those juices for lubrication. Then he pushed in, one hard thrust to break through the barrier, then stilled, allowing the shock to subside.

When he moved, YN climaxed once again, the pleasure increasing as he pressed forward. The pain had been minimal, and was now forgotten, drowned out by this Alpha. Another wave of erotic pleasure shot through her, two more times in fact, before Cas slowed his movements, feeling his knot swell, then crying out as he spilled ropes of cum inside her, filling her with his seed.

She shook with another orgasm as Cas nuzzled her scent gland, then sank his fangs deep, claiming her as his. She felt her head explode as the venom hit her bloodstream, forcing her memory to surface, remembering everything up to the moment the man had knocked her out.

Cas propped himself on his elbows. “Are you alright?”

She winced. “Yeah, fine now. I got my memory back. It must have been triggered by the amazing orgasms.”

He laughed. “Well, obviously they were healing orgasms. You should have at least 10 per day to keep in good health.”

Both Alpha and Omega broke out in hysterical laughter as they snuggled in the bed together.

@legion1993​

#spnabobingo #castielspnbingo #spngenrebingo

[hogwartsfirebolt]

Number 12 please!! For the prompt thingy x

Thank you for the prompt ❤️

Drarry + 12: Roommates AU (omg they were roommates)

This is how it goes: Ron and Hermione are together, Neville and Hannah are together, Luna and that guy Rolf are together, Ginny and Cho are together—which is just hilarious, honestly, Harry finds it simply hysterical— and now they’ve got their sharp little eye on Harry.

This is how it goes: Pansy and Anthony are together, Greg and Millie are together, Daphne and Theo are together, Blaise and that older girl are together —Draco isn’t even sure she exists, he thinks it might just be Blaise’s reflection in drag— and now they���ve got their sharp little eye on Draco.

And well, thanks, but NO thanks. Friday night drinks are already damn uncomfortable when everybody is getting cozy with their partner and Harry and Draco end up pressed together at the end of the booth, trying to pretend that their, dare I call it friendship —more like past enmity that they shoved underneath the rug when their friends suddenly befriended each other— isn’t awkward as fuuuuck. (“So, uh, you opened a bookstore. That going well?” “Yes. Heard you left the Aurors to write memoirs. That going well?” “Sure is.”) They don’t need the added stress of their friends wanting to send them on blind dates with randos.

Yeah. Yeah. Thanks, but NO thanks.

This is how it goes: their friends confess they hate seeing them lonely, they hate knowing that each of them goes home at the end of the day to an empty bed, they’re 30, and are they really going to spend their sexiest years alone?

This is how it goes: Draco has just opened a bookstore and, coincidentally, Harry lives across the street from it. It’s not like they’re friends, but their friends are friends, and so Harry invites him to his flat for a drink one night after Draco closes the shop. It’s not so bad. It’s easier to talk to each other when they don’t have to yell over pub music —there’s only so many things you can talk about while Britney sings Toxic— and, actually, they sort of have a lot in common? They work with words, they love that cheap white rum they sell in corner shops, and they went through some pretty dense stuff as teenagers. And their friends are being unbearable about setting them up.

Pfft. They’re mental. I’m not lonely! I’m happy living here, and I have a cat.

I’m not lonely either! Sure, the Manor is a little big for me these days, and it takes a long floo jump to get to work every morning, but it’s not so bad.

And anyway, we don’t even need to be dating someone to not be lonely. That’s the whole point of having friends.

Definitely. And platonic roommates exist.

Roommates!!! A friend you live with. Not an empty home! Not an empty … — Malfoy. Malfoy I have an idea.

And so, there’s a contract that goes like this: they can never (underlined and circled in red) eat each other’s food, use each other’s shampoo or shaving cream —Not like you need it for that peach fuzz, Malfoy— let their one-night stands stay for breakfast, have sex in communal areas, skip the chores marked on the calendar pinned to the fridge and, especially, let their friends forget about the fact that they’re not living alone anymore.

Boy does it backfire.

Harry uses Draco’s shampoo. Draco uses Harry’s shaving cream for the two hairs on his chin. Harry eats Draco’s quail eggs. Draco eats Harry’s shakshouka. Draco begins to wear soft jumpers that belong to Harry around the house. Harry steals Draco’s shirts when he has to meet a potential agent. Each of their sex dates sometimes stay way, way past breakfast —Draco, I have to do my yoga in half an hour, tell that dude to fucking leave already— way, way past the afternoon —Harry, I swear if this girl isn’t out of the house by the time I come back from the bookshop, I will have your head.

They fight. They fight so much. It’s “I told you not to use my shampoo!” at night and “There’s no shaving cream left. Why the fuck is there no shaving cream left” in the morning. It’s “I told you I was taking this lunch to work and you ate it anyway, do you even listen to me when I talk to you?” and “I was gonna bring curry to Ron and Hermione’s, but you and your stupid fuck friend ate all of it.”

They fight everyday, it’s so exhausting, every single day — except for Mondays, that is. Mondays are sacred. On Mondays their friends visit, and Harry and Draco are the perfect flatmates, the perfect friends, they are happier than ever, guys, can you believe how happy they are? Until the others leave, of course, but by then it’s usually past midnight and does it even count as Monday anymore? Nope, I don’t think so. 

This is how it goes: one morning, on the very long walk Draco takes across the street to work, he is hit by a stray curse. Yeah, I know, right? That is so weird, that there was someone throwing curses at random at 9am on a Wednesday. That is so weird, that it hit a guy who used to be a Death Eater. Such a coincidence.

He ends up in Mungo’s. They reconstruct all of his thoracic vertebrae and tell him not to leave his bed for four weeks until he adjusts, and then to start walking little by little. He might have a limp forever, they say. He might have back pain forever, they say. He might have died if he hadn’t gotten to the hospital on time, they say.

Four weeks in bed are kind of a lot, especially for someone who lives on his own and has to do everything for himself, except Draco is not such a person, and he does have someone to help him at home. And Harry takes on that role the way he does everything in his life: taking the bull by the horns. He cleans the flat and does their laundry, he cooks for Draco and spoon-feeds him, he sits next to him for hours watching the cartoons and Mexican telenovelas Draco enjoys —“How do you even like these? They all have the same plot line and Teresa is kind of a really bad person” “Excuse you? Teresa is my role model. I don’t expect a brute like you to understand”— he helps him get to the toilet —“Merlin, this is so embarrassing” “You have nothing I haven’t seen, Malfoy, get on with it”— he sponge-bathes him and dresses and undresses him. He holds his arm when he begins to walk again. He goes with him the first time he’s back to the bookstore.

He writes about him, when he has time to sit in front of his typewriter again.

He thinks about him when he goes out one night after Pansy visits them and —You’ve been helping him non-stop for five weeks. You need to go out and relax! I’ll look after him tonight— He thinks about him as he apparates to the club, as he dances with a dark haired man, as he makes out with him out back, as they kiss and Will you take me home? He thinks about him when he says no.

The thing is. The thing is, their fights are not really that serious. The thing is, sometimes their arguments end up with them doubled over laughing because of some insult Draco came up with and It’s fine, it’s fine, I’ll cook some more and I’ll pack it so you can take it to the bookstore tomorrow for lunch. The thing is, it becomes increasingly easier to behave on Mondays, and, without noticing, they’ve began to develop some other routines too. Pancake Thursday, post-Friday-night-drinks Monopoly —every time, Draco cheats every time— Sunday night Quidditch sitting in front of the TV and eating their weight in fish and chips, Draco sitting Harry down and taming his hair and choosing one of his own shirts to give to him before he meets a potential agent, a consultant, a representative of a publishing house. Harry folding one of his own jumpers after laundry day and putting it in Draco’s closet.

Harry goes back home that night having had a realization. He says goodbye to Pansy —Harry, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost— and stares at his ceiling for hours before being able to sleep.

The next morning, he makes Draco’s favorite breakfast and tries to recall when exactly he learned it was his favorite and when it became his go-to when he’s cooking in the mornings and whether those two things are related. Draco comes out of his own room in boxers and one of Harry’s t-shirts on slightly unsteady feet but refusing Harry’s arm when —No, no, I need to walk on my own or I’ll never get better— and he makes coffee for Harry and tea for himself and Harry wonders when this became routine, too, having breakfast together in each other’s clothes, that they use as pajamas.

He wonders when he started packing Draco’s lunch in the mornings; when Draco started buying his favorite brand of shaving cream so he wouldn’t run out; when they started hanging out together at night, sitting on their couch, reading, watching TV, gossiping about their friends; when he started going to the bookstore, his typewriter in his arms, to sit by Draco as they both work.

He wonders when they stopped bringing people to have sex with. 

It’s at that point that he freaks out and immediately calls Laia, his fuckbuddy.

And it happens like this: it’s raining, because of course it is, and Draco throws a fit outside the bookstore, pretending to be mad about something when really, he’s just hurt Harry called Laia again.

It’s never been easy between them, has it? Of course it comes out in the middle of an argument, in the middle of the night, standing right in the middle of the street, drenched from head to toe. Of course that’s when it comes out.

Why are you acting like this?! It’s like you’re jealous or something.

Well, no shit! I’m jealous as fuck! What did you think!

Oh.

Oh.

Well, honestly, it’s not like Harry didn’t know. It’s not like he wasn’t hoping this sex date would make Draco jealous or, at least, let Harry forget about the inconvenient feelings he’s found buried in his belly.

He grins, and —Are you smiling right now? Merlin help me, Merlin help me, I hate you so much, I hate you so—

Kisses in the rain are a thing of fairy tales. A thing of romcoms. In reality, they’re inconvenient, a little disgusting, hair sticking to faces and necks and water making the slide of lips uncomfortable but. But. It doesn’t even matter.

It’s never been easy between them. But it doesn’t matter.

This is how it goes: a full-sized bed is traded for a queen-sized one, Harry’s room becomes their room, Draco’s room becomes their study. Their toothbrushes sit together in one vase. Draco uses Harry’s shaving cream and Harry uses Draco’s shampoo. They cook together, they cook for each other, they cook and they dance while they cook, they cook and they stop for a kiss. Their wardrobes blend together.

And as for sex dates. They won’t be needing any of those. This is the new contract. Underlined and circled in red three times.

And so!!!! That’s how I would write this trope (which is one of my absolute FAVORITES)

SEND ME TWO TROPES AND I’LL TELL YOU HOW I’D WRITE THEM

#drarry #drarry drabble #drarry fic #draco malfoy #harry potter #mine #ask games #prompt #mywriting

[alicedoessurveys]

Food Tag

1. What’s the last thing you ate? we had a bbq, I had a jacket potato with cheese and some tikka skewers

2. What’s your favourite cheese? mozzarella or red Leicester 

3. What’s your favourite fish? the only fish I eat is tuna and I wouldn't even call that my favourite 

4. What’s your favourite fruit? apple or banana, literally the only fruit I eat 

5. When, if ever, did you start liking olives? never

6. When, if ever, did you start liking beer? don't like beer, cant even stand the smell of it 

7. When, if ever, did you start liking shellfish? never

8. What was the best thing your mum/dad/guardian used to make? my mom does amazing dirty fries. she cooks them perfectly and adds turkey mince cooking in tomatoes and cheese and omg their just kdjjdsgfdskuhf

9. What’s the native specialty of your hometown? curries- apparently Birmingham is famous for its curries

10. What’s your comfort food? anything hot and covered in cheese, or chocolate 

11. What’s your favourite type of chocolate? ALL the chocolate

12. How do you like your steak? I don't eat red meat 

13. How do you like your burger? with cheese and either ketchup for veggie burger or bbq sauce for chicken burgers

14. How do you like your eggs? I dont eat eggs

15. How do you like your potatoes? baked with lots of butter 

16. How do you take your coffee? don't like coffee

17. How do you take your tea? don't like tea

18. What’s your favourite mug? my “don't let the muggles get you down” mug

19. What’s your biscuit or cookie of choice? oreos

20. What’s your ideal breakfast? cereal

21. What’s your ideal sandwich? cheese -  im seeing a theme with my answers here...

22. What’s your ideal pizza: alllll the cheese, a bit of chicken and some bbq sauce 

23. What’s your ideal pie (sweet or savoury)? chicken and gravy

24. What’s your ideal salad? no thanks

25. What food do you always like to have in the fridge? cheese, milk, some sort of yoghurt dessert

26. What food do you always like to have in the freezer? a supply of veggie food, some ready meals for lazy times, ice cream

27. What food do you always like to have in the cupboard? pasta, cereal, soup, beans 

28. What spices can you not live without? basil, thyme, turmeric, paprika, garlic, salt, pepper

29. What sauces can you not live without? tomato, bbq, curry sauce

30. Where do you buy most of your food? supermarket

31. How often do you go food shopping? not often because I live at home its mostly done by parents, but I like to go get my own stuff every other week. obviously with covid lockdown ive not been at all in months 

33. What’s the most expensive piece of kitchen equipment you own? again, I live with my parents so I don't actually own anything

34. What’s the last piece of equipment you bought for your kitchen? n/a

35. What piece of kitchen equipment could you not live without? microwave, toastie maker

36. How many times a week/month do you cook from raw ingredients? I dont cook meat 

37. What’s the last thing you cooked from raw ingredients? again,  I don't cook with meat 

38. What meats have you eaten besides cow, pig and poultry? the only meat I eat it chicken or turkey 

39. What’s the last time you ate something that had fallen on the floor? I don't 

40. What’s the last time you ate something you’d picked in the wild? I don't 

41. Arrange the following in order of preference: Italian, Mexican, Chinese, Indian, Thai, Sushi – italian, Chinese, Indian, I don't eat the others 

42. Arrange the following in order of preference: Vodka, Whiskey, Brandy, Rum – rum, thats the only one I drink

43. Arrange the following in order of preference: Garlic, Basil, Lime, Mint, Ginger, Aniseed – basil, garlic, I don't use the others 

44. Arrange the following in order of preference: Pineapple, Orange, Apple, Strawberry, Cherry, Watermelon, Banana. – apple, banana, I don't eat the others but flavour wise id go cherry, strawberry, pineapple, watermelon, orange 

45. Bread and spread: bread and butter, thats it. im simple.

46. What’s your fast food restaurant of choice, and what do you usually order? Chinese - chicken in black bean sauce and spicy chips

47. Pick a city. What are the best dining experiences you’ve had in that city? London- shake shack do the best cheese fries omg 

48. What’s your choice of tipple at the end of a long day? I don't really have a tipple 

49. What’s the next thing you’ll eat? cereal in the morning 

50. Are you hungry now? no

51. Do you eat your breakfast everyday? when im at home yeah, but work days I tend to skip it because I don't have time 

52. At what time do you have breakfast? around 9/9.30am

53. At what time do you have lunch? between 12-2pm

54. What do you have for lunch? whatever I feel like/whatever I can find 

55. At what time do you have dinner? between 6-8pm

56. What do you have for dinner? whatever my mom cooks

57. Do you light candles during dinner? nope

58. How many chairs are there in your dining room and who sits in the main chair? 4, there isn't a main chair

59. Do you eat and drink using your right hand or the left one? right

61. Mention the veggies that you like most: peas, thats it 

62. What fruit and vegetable do you like the least? all of them 

63. You like your fruit salad to have more: don't eat it

64. You prefer your vegetable salad to contain more: don't eat it 

65. What’s your favourite sandwich spread? cheese, surprise surprise 

66. What’s your favourite chocolate bar? Cadbury dairy milk or galaxy

67. What’s your favourite dessert? brownies

68. What’s your favourite drink? pepsi, or summer fruits squash

69. What’s your favourite snack? don't really have snacks 

70. What’s your favourite bubble gum flavour? don't like it

71. What’s your favourite ice cream flavour? caramel or chocolate 

72. What’s your favourite potato chip flavour? don't like them

73. What’s your favourite soup? tomato

74. What’s your favourite pizza? cheese and tomato 

75. What’s your favourite type of dish? italian? I don't think I understand the question 

76. What food do you hate? fish, rice, veg, 

77. What’s your favourite restaurant? a little local one called ‘Little Italy’ where I go every year on my birthday 

78. Do you eat homemade food, or food delivered from outside? homemade mostly, but we have a lot of takeaway too

80. Who cooks at home? mom mostly, but me and dad do occasionally too

81. What kind of diet (e.g. low-fat, high-fiber, high-carbohydrate, balanced diet etc.) do you have? I think its called the ridiculously unhealthy diet 

82. How do you keep yourself fit? go for a lot of walks, and my job is really active 

#food tag #tag #survey #long

[minnochu]

Interference (pt. 22)

Officer!Jimin x Reader AU

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7 | pt 8 | pt 9 | pt 10 | pt 11 | pt 12 | pt 13 | pt 14 | pt 15 | pt 16 | pt 17 | pt 18 | pt 19 | pt 20 | pt 21 | pt 22 | pt 23 | pt 24 | pt 25

(A/n): Tomorrow is my last exam and it’ll mark the end of my first year of college! Yaayy... which means I’ll have a little more free time to write and wreck feelings to my heart’s content, so please accept this cute little chapter that might be a little dialogue heavy. 

Also sorry if it’s a little rushed with grammar or spelling mistakes, I finally found a good stopping point for the part but wasn’t sure if it was too short or just really bad in general and just wanted to finally update something for everyone so enjoy!

Another also~ I’ll update links tomorrow ‘cause I’m currently trying my best to study for my exam right now!! 

“Make yourself at home!” Jungkook exclaims, eager for you to enter as he helps carry your things in. You dismissed him from helping you when you were more than capable yourself, but he insisted on being a gentleman. More like he wanted to show off how strong he was. To which you laughed and reminisced the few memories you had of him. Those of which included him teasing you endlessly, a smile always playing on both of your faces.

This will be good, you thought as Jungkook tidied up his guest bedroom, I’ll be able to learn more about myself from him.

“I didn’t expect you to answer so quick,” he admitted timidly, scratching the back of his neck shyly, “I’m not much of a cook, so I can order take out if you want..”

“That’s alright, if you have ingredients I can cook tonight,” you smile as he leads you to the kitchen where he opens his fridge in embarrassment, cheeks tinging with a slight peachy hue. You can only laugh at his shyness when you see the bare minimum of contents like milk, eggs, and half of a loaf of bread. “Take out it is then,” you shake your head, “We’ll go grocery shopping later, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he agrees sheepishly, already on his phone to call for take out.

You suppose you’ll manage to get by living with Jungkook. Pushing away the feelings in your heart, you accept your new home with the raven haired man. It’s not so bad either as you spend your days looking through scrapbooks of you both that apparently you made, going out for walks in hopes of eliciting any memories, watching movies you used to watch with him. It makes you feel like an average couple, but you can only shake that thought out of your head when you wish you could do the same thing with Jimin.

The thought makes you laugh under your breath as you cook breakfast for the two of you. The orange haired man was too married to his job, he couldn’t drop anything for a woman. Not like he would with his complex. And here you thought you made some kind of progress getting closer to the detective.

“Smells great!”

Your eyes widen, flipping around at the familiar voice. Taehyung? However, you’re in the kitchen alone, heart beating wildly at your imagination. It almost made you slouch in disappointment. You were certain you heard the man’s light-hearted and yet so baritone voice. You remember the shock of hearing his voice for the first time paired with his cute baby face.

“That pervert’s cooking can’t be THAT good,” comes Jimin usual gruff voice, coupled with an eye roll you know he’d do in unison with his comment. The detective would grumble like a child and poutily cross his arms over his chest as he takes a seat at the dinner table.

Again, no one is in the kitchen and you try to block out your memories of cooking for the two detectives. From Taehyung’s mirthful expression as he chows down on homemade cooking like it would be his last, to Jimin’s disinterest even though you know he secretly enjoyed your cooking. He was just too stubborn for his own good. It didn’t bother you nonetheless. Because he always ate everything on his plate after you both grew closer. Maybe you even thought it was cute. Cute? Yeah. Jimin was cute. It was no wonder women approached the group when you guys were out to jog your memory.

Shaking your head vigorously, you sighed, feeling your shoulders sag in hopelessness. Why couldn’t you just stop thinking about them, about him, for once?

Admittedly, at night you imagined Jimin sleeping beside like he always did. You concentrate on the blanket wrapped around you and think about the warmth you felt when Jimin would seek out yours at night. You considered asking Jungkook for that kind of thing… seeing as he was your best friend and all. But that would be too sudden and awkward on your part when you barely remembered what kind of relationship you both had before your incident. And at this point, you can only call him your best friend.

“Noona?”

A tug comes at your elbow.

“Noona, it’s too early,” a yawning voice says.

You glance down, expecting it to be part of your imagination, but you see a boy. He comes to just above your hip, looking up at you but you can’t make out his face at all. Squinting, blinking, rubbing your eyes; nothing helps. His face is blurry, scribbled out like a messed up drawing, but your gut reminds you that this is your little brother.

“Pancakes? You’re the best (Y/n)!” Jungkook’s voice interrupts and the boy fades away and is replaced by a much taller man. His doe eyes peer down at you playfully, poking your side to get your attention, “Hey you, you’ll burn it!”

Blinking, you almost let out an ugly squawk as you hurriedly scrape the bottom of the pancake and flip it over to the other side. Pouting, you jab at his rib cage in retaliation, “You’re up early, you have work today?”

He smiles and unceremoniously swings his arm around your shoulders, “Yep! But don’t get too lonely, I’ll be back tonight.” He winks and even adds a few eyebrow wiggles at which you swat at him with a weak glare.

It’s not too bad, you suppose. He reminds you of Taehyung and Hoseok. Both of them playful and maybe even childish.

“Don’t wait up, I’ll probably be snoring my ass off,” you stick your tongue out.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He dismisses, waving his hand around as you finish up the pancakes and bring them to the dining table. You can’t help that empty feeling in your chest as you look back and you feel your breath hitch when you see that boy there for a second. When you blink, he’s gone and you’re back to wondering how you’ll ever be able to remember your family.

As you eat breakfast with Jungkook, you wonder how the boys are holding up. Were they okay? Were they eating well? Was Taehyung cooking instead of that super untalented Jimin? You would call… but you just couldn’t bring yourself to press the speed dial to their respective numbers. Not even Yoongi’s.

.

“What are we gonna do with him?” Taehyung sighs as he leans back against Yoongi and Hoseok’s two desks. Seokjin turns in his chair to regard the orange-nette with a pitiful smile.

“Nothing really, that boy’s whipped,” he smiles, knowing full well that the younger can hear him as he leans further into his desk to hide his deep frown.

“Shut up, she made her choice, she was only staying with us temporarily,” He scoffs, ruffling his hair and shaking his head to keep the image of you out of his head. Cursing his coworkers when they snicker among each other at his lack of denial.

At first, as soon as you left, he went into a reclusive sort of state. He didn’t speak to anyone, nor did anyone bother to when they knew he would’ve blown up on them. He couldn’t blame them anyways when he spent more time at the gym than resting at home now. At home, it wasn’t the same. Despite him wanting to forget the past months that have gone by quicker than he wanted to, he knew he just couldn’t erase this image of you from his mind.

The couch wasn’t the same. The kitchen wasn’t the same. Even the blanket you used wasn’t the same.

It was embarrassing to admit, but he refused to put in the laundry out of fear of your fading scent. It faded, and that made him all the more angry at himself and at your leave.

He and his partner went back to eating takeout, omelets and rice being the only homemade meal they knew how to cook without messing it up. Taehyung tried staying optimistic but Jimin just couldn’t and found himself instinctively going back to the couch at night to curl there by himself. Some nights, he just had to sleep there or else he wouldn’t sleep at all. Although that didn’t even prove to allow him peaceful sleep.

Countless times now has the man woke up sweaty and driven to tears after the same nightmares that plagued him before he began sleeping with you in his arms. Among these dreams began to include the same image of you leaving to be with Jungkook. It broke him on the inside.

The more he thought about it, why was he being so pathetic? Why was he acting so weak right now? This was just not him.

“She had a big effect on you, that’s all,” Yoongi shrugs as he takes a swig of the beer in front of him. The two currently sat in a somewhat populated food tent, drinking and eating tteokbokki. In all honesty, Jimin decided it was finally time to talk about it to Yoongi despite feeling embarrassed that he was so caught up over you. “I’m not even surprised that you’re moping around like this, but I gotta say… it was refreshing to see you just a little bit more relaxed around the office with that girl around.”

“Wh-what?” the carrot-head balks as he avoids the piercing leer from his hyung, sipping on his drink as his cheeks burned nervously, “I did no such thing.”

“You can’t deny that you haven’t been a pain in the ass after she was assigned to you and Taehyung, and now that she’s gone…  you’re back to having that stupid little broom shoved back up your ass.”

Jimin threw the elder a dirty glare, flicking a piece of fallen rice cake at the male, “Shut up, you guys are hallucinating.”

The other shrugged, watching as the man in front of him sighed and continued to eat. The darkening swells underneath his eyes were extremely noticeable. His hair, faded to a milky orange with time, was forever messy as he neglected taking better care of himself. And if he thought about it further, he could say that even though the man was spending more time at the gym to let off steam, he was starting to look unhealthy with him and Taehyung unable to eat the home cooked foods that you made for them. He was tearing himself apart.

“You need to take care of yourself Chims,” he sighed, reaching over to grab him from the top of his head to forcefully yank his head towards him. Their eyes met, his hardened brown meeting his forlorn and almost dazed ones. “Get your shit together man, everyone’s worried for you. You’re not the only feeling depressed over her absence either. Taehyung isn’t as annoying as you think he is still, Hoseok can’t stop talking about her either, even I… I want to call her and ask how she’s doing with that guy and if she’s figured out her life… you’re not alone so shut the fuck up and look after yourself.”

“She wouldn’t want to see you falling apart…”

Jimin’s eyes widened as he blinked at Yoongi glaring at him, “I… She… She’s gone now… she wouldn’t care if I…”

“Oh my god… just shut up,” Yoongi sighed in exasperation at his denial, “It’s not just you going through this alone… you got over Jungmi, we can help you get over (Y/n).”

“You guys act like I was dating that stupid girl,” the younger snorted, frowning as he stared at his empty glass, “It’s not like she cheated on me and ruined my life or anything like what Jungmi did.”

“You guys were basically married,” Yoongi snickered, wiggling his brow suggestively, “You can’t hide the fact that you slept in the same bed with her countless times… even now, Tae told me how you sleep in the living room still.”

“Shut up…” he pouted, “It’s not like I want to still keep thinking about her…”

“You miss her though,” the elder’s blatant voice interrupts, the blonde now leaning on the palm of his hand, propped up on the table, “You’ll continue to destroy yourself like this if you keep denying that you miss her. You don’t think I know how she’s been letting herself into your life one by one, finding out all the details from your past and still she accepts you and tries to help you. If that girl weren’t so strong, I’m sure she would have actually cried in the car and beg me to turn around and head back to your place.”

His eyes narrow at the other’s silence, “You’d be fucking blind if you never noticed the way she is around you, and the way you, yourself, are around her as well.”

“Jungmi hurt you, we all know and regret that even to this day in the office… and we were on our toes and ready if (Y/n) did anything to hurt you, but everyone knows how much she’s been a positive effect on you, you need to pick yourself up, and whether that means chasing after and dragging her back home or letting her go to live with another guy.”

“Ouch, you didn’t have to rub it in that she’s with another guy right now,” Jimin winced, frowning at the thought Jungkook possibly doing something he could never do to you.

The younger glances at his adoptive brother, faltering underneath his piercing gaze. Yoongi was obviously right. He just didn’t want to come to terms with your absence and cling to the you that stayed in his home and let him cry on your shoulder and rely on someone for once.

“But thanks for the pep talk… I needed it I guess..”

“I only speak the truth,” Yoongi shrugged before cracking a small smile, “I’m your elder brother after all aren’t I? I’m here to smack some sense into your dumb ass.”

The younger cracked a smile, shaking his head. I guess he had no other choice as it was. There was no way he could just barge into the life that you wanted to take back so badly. Was it really better this way? He wasn’t sure, but he just couldn’t keep moping around like he was and bringing down the mood of the office. Taehyung had inevitably already given up at cheering him up.

So perhaps that’s why he decided what he did.

Walking into the office the day after next, he held his chin high and greeted others as he usually did, relishing in the surprised looks by his coworkers.

“Jiminie,” Taehyung blinked over and over again with a surprised balk at the appearance of the man, “You… your hair.. it’s black.”

#ahahahaha #jimin's a girl after a breakup #actually me too lmaoo #sorry this was kind of dialogue heavy but i needed a little filler of jimin coming to terms and showing how the separation affecting the two #mostly on jimin's part tho lol #we'll see more of reader tan #interference #bts scenarios #bts fanfics #bts x reader #jimin scenario #jimin scenarios #jimin fanfic #jimin x reader #jimin x you #reader insert #kpop fanfics

[tumblingdoe]

January 11-15 on the Sexplanations Road Tour

Friday January 11, 2019

Nels repaired the roof vent that was worn out and worked on the water system while I business-interneted. We drove out of town to an Indian restaurant, ate, and then unrelated to the food -- determined that Nels needed some medical care. Five’ish hours later at the hospital we were discharged without any good answers but he seems to be on the mend. We drove south where I satiated a guilty pleasure (Chick-fil-a) and grocery shopped for some healthier eats. I bought a basil plant that we call Marvelous Mrs. Basil. We finished watching The Wiz and then winded down to the somewhat terrifying sounds of a car repossession followed later by car drifting and police intervention.

Saturday January 12, 2019

Happy that we survived the night in a parking lot, Nels and I drove to a nearby RV village where we were able to empty our gray and black water tanks for only $10. We also cleaned out our fresh water tanks and did dishes in house for the first time! An hour later we were San Francisco at Aunt Linda’s. She made us brunch and talked to us about sex and aging, hormones, incontinence, impotence, and dating. I’m excited to turn the conversation into an episode of Sexplanations.

Aunt Linda then drove us to our next engagement -- recording videos and a podcast at Mr. S Leather with Amp from Watts the Safeword. Amp had reached out on Twitter and I was so relieved. I wanted to keep going with the Sexplanations podcast and recording video episodes while on tour but we haven’t had time to sort out equipment or set it up. Amp had a studio in San Francisco with lights and microphones and cameras. He invited me in, made me tea, gave me all the time I needed to switch gears in to pro-mode, and then recorded everything for me to share with you. We did a podcast on sexhacks, an episode of Watts the Safeword on sex education, and an episode of Sexplanations YouTube channel about daddies. We just put my memory cards in his gear and voila, production! It was such a huge moment of feeling wrapped up by a safe person and validated as a creator. Amp didn’t judge me for needing his help. He just loved on me and needed that.

While we were there I also got a thorough tour of Mr. S Leather. I’d been 12ish years ago when I was in San Francisco for my doctorate but a lot had changed. Amp walked us through the showroom -- gear for every fetish and kink you can imagine. Then as a super treat he took us behind the scenes where most of their products were manufactured, right there in the building! We saw the old latex room with patterns for full suits, the remains of a really comprehensive dungeon, and the shipping warehouse. I was astounded by the passion everywhere. There was so much attention to detail and care for the products! The  foot and half long dragon cock dildo was made by someone who wants that experience to be perfect.

I left feeling all warm and gooey. Nels left with ideas for rafting wetsuits and a new sex education. We wandered down the street to a coffee shop we learned about at PatreCon called Wicked Grounds. They had offered to host a event but I hadn’t been able to follow-though. So I asked a table of friendly faces if they had any sexuality questions for the sexologist on tour. “Nope.” One of them actually had their own sex education channel and was very situated in their knowledge of the subject.

I walked away from the cafe feeling very comfortable that we hadn’t planned more in California. Cali has so many sex ed resources. So does Oregon. These places aren’t my classroom per se, they are my launchpad. Between Nels’ friends in Oregon wrapping us up emotionally and Cali grounding me professionally -- it was like we were being nurtured for the experiences to come.

Nels gave me a burrito that he’d gotten for me while I was shooting with Amp and we walked to The Chapel twenty or so minutes away for a show. He treated us to the Red Room Orchestra performing the Big Lebowski. Margaret Cho was Walter, Kevin McDonald was the Dude, and James Adomian played the stranger. It was outstanding! Just incredible!

After the show we found late night Indian then took a Lyft back to the RV. The fridge wasn’t working because things weren’t so level on the San Francisco hills so Nels and I capped off the night stacking these really nice blocks someone got us on our Amazon Wishlist.

Sunday January 13, 2019

We went back to Aunt Linda’s, this time for showers. Then she took us out for lunch at a super cool restaurant called the Pork Store. After food we rushed back to the RV to get across town to a landscaping center to meet Dixie de la Tour for a podcast recording in. the. RV! Dixie showed up with her St. Bernard and we all climbed aboard to talk about her work running and mothering Bawdy Storytelling. She also has a podcast. 10/10 would recommend! We wrapped up our conversation 10 minutes before the landscaping center closed so I ran in with Marvelous Mrs. Basil in her inadequate two inch pot and paid a $2.00 re-potting fee to get her a new container and more soil.

It was a rush-rush day. Next on the list was dinner with three of my classmates from the institute where I did my doctorate. Jack drove an hour and half south, Danielle drove an hour north, and Nels and I drove the RV to pick up Ivy for us all to meet at Basil Canteen for Thai. The whole meal was perfect. I hadn’t seen these friends in more than a decade but there we were deep in conversation about sex of course, and buying a school to teach sexology! I think everyone left having to wake up in a few hours for work but grateful for the night.

Jack drove Ivy home (which I hoped would reignite a romance) and Danielle invited us to stop at her place the following day. We all said good-bye and then Nels and I strolled home happy. On our way around the block --because the RV was parked just down the street--we said hello to some gorgeous queens from the Imperial Sovereign Court and stopped at a gaming cafe for virtual reality. I love it. Nels was indifferent. And then he was awesome at it and we hung out for an hour getting some physical activity in by thrashing our arms around.

To conclude the day, we drove all the way the beach so we could listen to the waves from bed. It’s still really hard to push myself with work and travel but gifts like that are a reminder that were are right where we need to be and doing the best we can.

Monday January 14, 2019

I woke up wanting nothing more than WiFi so we set up our laptops in a cafe on the oceans and worked for hours. I was actually still on the phone planning stops when Nels courted me out to get to Sunnyvale by 3:00 to meet Danielle, my classmate from the night before. I kept working in the RV while he drove and we got there right on time.

Danielle situated us with rain showers, chicken soup, and tourist suggestions for the rest of our California route. That is until we learned that the coastal highway would be shut down for the week due to landslides. I was disappointed but only mildly. Being in Danielle’s care was delightful. She kept it simple and cozy, no pressure, no hassle. We got to explore her Somatica space -- a revolutionary way to improve relationships and sexuality and Danielle gave us two of her books! And a bag of oranges from her yard!

To finish the day Nels and I drove past the Apple complex, which is enormous, and we dined all fancy-like at Oren’s Hummus.

Tuesday January 15, 2019

Sadists are people who experience pleasure from inflicting pain. Nels is not this. I think he experiences pleasure from pleasing others. While I slept he drove us to Lover’s point so the RV windows would be looking out over a quintessential ocean view. Then he proceeded to cook onions, kale, broccoli, rainbow carrots, sausage, garlic, and eggs in a cast-iron pan for breakfast on the coast. Who is this person!?!?!

Before getting back on the road we climbed along the rocks watching the cormorants dive. I tried to swim but the tide came too quickly for it to be safe. We returned to the RV to acquire more miles. I responded to over 100 emails then requested we take a break from the washing machine existence of riding in an RV and nap. Post nap, Nels was at it again making colorful amazing food. He set up Moon --the 2009 film-- and we had our version of a drive-in dine-in movie.

This is in San Luis Obisbo. Now we’ve driven longer past huge agriculture land to Solvang and it is time again for cuddles and bed.

#sexplanations road tour #curious road tour #sex ed #dr. doe #california #bawdy storytelling #watts the safeword #sfsketchfest

[reddogf13]

Between two Voids ch 10

Pennywise x Beverly

summery:  It has been 12 years since Beverly was last in Derry. now 26 years old and returning with her boyfriend she strives for a life of normalcy in the small town. Unaware that a certain stalking creature has awakened much earlier than expected. Looking for a challenge to cure its boredom ,in the now crumbling town, IT aims to uproot her life as much as possible. Yet, is that really such a bad thing given her dark situation hidden from all but the eyes of a world eater? 

status: complete

rated: M - fowl language and gore

prev chap: Between two Voids ch 9

next chap: Between two Voids ch 11 _____________________________________

~ch:10 The Rave~

Beverly stared up at the bedroom ceiling. Watching it's color change with the rising sun light blaring through the nearby window. Breathing as quietly as she could to not wake Erik sleeping next to her. Sleeping next to him after so long felt out of place. Like someone would when sharing a sleeping bag at camp with a stranger. Last night went in Beverly's favor with Erik heading straight to bed. Talking about how he needed to get up early tomorrow to set up the rave by the next night.

She got a few hours of sleep before waking incredibly early. Mostly going over her chores for the day in her thoughts. Mentally preparing herself to be Eriks babysitter later for his rave. Which he still hadn't confirmed the location to her yet. Only that it was “ outside Derry”. Knowing she wasn't going to get anymore sleep she sat up from her resting spot.

“ need to get used to an actual mattress again, geeze.” rubbing her back of a sore spot. “ this is a pretty shitty mattress though.” Feeling one particular spot with a spring popping through the top.

She stretched on her feet. Following her normal morning routine. Only going about it incredibly quiet this time to not wake Erik. The shower filled with fancy guy shampoos. A shelf holding a line of cologne in bottles worth at least 30 bucks each. She stuck with her scentless bar soap grabbed from her bag. After her shower she went to start breakfast stopping herself at the fridge. Remembering she wasn't allowed to make breakfast without Erik. He always ate first along with deciding what they both ate.

“ I'll just get started on chores then.” whispering to herself with a turning around into something solid. Having her back up with surprise in looking up at Pennywise standing there with his usual smile.

“ what are you doing here?!” whispering to avoid waking Erik.

“ why wouldn't i?” the clowns head tilting to one side.

“ the bets over!” her talking a little fast to learn why he was there and how to get rid of him.

“ yes, but my courting is not.” head returning back to its straightened position. Taking his time to reply to her.

“ it should!” returning to start work on chores. First was dishes then after Erik woke she could turn on the noisy laundry machine.

His face scrunched up after smelling the air around her as she passed by. Displeased by that ratty males scent staining her delicate one. Thoughts souring on why that could be. She didn't have any scent of arousal, but that didn't crop up all the time. Some humans were just incredibly lousy in the category of performance.

“What?” she asked over his change of expression.

“ you reek of that male now.” His tone heavy with displeasure.

“ we did sleep together last night.” Seeing the immediate shift in his mood at what she said. Watching his teeth going sharp, eyes burning redder, shoulders rising from there relaxed position, and a crackling noise she was sure was coming off his hands growing claws.

“Not like that. Regular sleeping.” sure that if she didn't specify Erik wouldn't last long. That shift drawing back in shoulders dropping, teeth retracting just as fast when they grew. Most of his body remaining on edge.

“ do you plan on it?” A low growl barely escaping his throat.

“ what business is it of yours who i fuck?” words blunt as she crossed her arms readying to squash this issue.

“ arrrre you?” frustration leaking.

“ we've been doing it for quite a while before returning here.” Amused that her answer caused his reaction of aggressively tensing again. She never experienced someone so jealous of her and Erik being together. “But not for the past two years. It died off pretty quickly.” She added.

“And thank god for that.” She thought.

“ and whys that? Wouldn't you both want to try for offspring?” raising a brow at her.

“ … Do you want kids?” feeling the question a bit awkward to ask. Aside from the terrifying thought of multiple Pennywise's infesting a town. - or towns? - Asking the question made it seem like she wanted ITs children, which she did not.

“ is it not the ultimate goal of any creature?” the answer leaving Beverly feeling more awkward. Did IT expect her to bare its children? She was too afraid to ask the question.

“ you'd be out of luck with me then. Can't have kids.” walking by to turn on the faucet for hot water. Standing by in making sure none of the rising water overflowed.

“ infertile, why so?” tone sounding curious over disappointed. Opposite to what she expected him to sound at the news.

“ scarring … From trauma in childhood.” Remembering the small window where her and Erik really tried for a kid. Making that discovery after finding nothing seemed to be working. A blessing in disguise after Eriks personality shift.

“scarring would not stop the urging. Felt no temptation for the action?” standing by as she began washing dishes.

“no.” fidgeting with one plate a little longer than needed.

“why not? Do you hate it?” knowing her past involving the forced action could sour it for her. Yet, her answer of continuing by choice later in life meant it wasn't.

“no, its like- I don't feel- … it's sort of a chore. I don't hate it or like it. Its something I do to get along in life, like laundry.” her tone unenthusiastic over the topic. Being honest that she saw the action of sex as unexciting. She wanted to like it, but it never felt as good as everyone said it was.

“a shame. Can the male perform at all? Or do you do all the work like with everything else? I would understand if he lays there almost dead. No wonder you would see it a chore.” letting out a snicker with confidence that he was correct.

“why does it sound like you're experienced with this? aren't humans disgusting?” roughly scrubbing a plate free of old food. Wanting the conversation to end already.

“yes, but that does not make committing the action any less fun. Even if I do, do the most.” by how he boasted, Beverly really didn't want to know any further details. Scrubbing quietly over the next plate from a pile.

“ are you talking to yourself?” with a turn toward the voice she saw Erik standing half awake in the hallway entrance.

“Uh, yes. I was praying.” She made up an excuse.

“ praying while washing dishes?” He stared at her like she was insane.

“Yeah, it skips the middle man of blessing food.” giving a wavering smile to seem sincere. He stared at her even more confused.

“Superstitious freak.” Erik muttered with a turn back toward the bathroom.

“ make the bacon and eggs. I want them on the table by the time i get out.” He shouted, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

“Yes sir.” Beverly spoke as loud as she could without irritating him.

“Yes sir.” Pennywise mimicked. Beverly waving a hand at him to try shooing him away. Drying her hands off on a small rag to start breakfast.

Halfway through cooking she realized an important detail.

“Shit, i didn't spread out the cooking.” She whispered. Looking over her shoulder toward the bathroom. Quickly scooping a small bit of food onto a plate. Hiding it away in a cupboard.

“What are you doing?” Pennywise was confused by what she was doing. Never having seen a human put fresh hot food in a cupboard before it was to be eaten.

“ Erik likes to take a lot.” dropping the rest onto a large platter to serve on the table. Pouring a glass of orange juice to set aside in a careful presentation.

“Okay, i think I've got everything.” quickly going over the finished dining set up. “Silverware, empty plate, drink and the food. Nothing burnt, sunny side up.” mumbling through some checklist worriedly.

“ no food taster for his royal highness?” his joking shushed by Beverly with her nervously sitting down by her own lone empty plate. Waiting silently for Erik to come to the table.

Watching him indirectly from the corner of her vision. Seeing him sit down with an immediate pouring of 95% of the food onto his own plate. Leaving Beverly hardly a cup worth of food to take. This was why she hid some in the cupboard. Otherwise she'd have to sneak more food other ways.

He took a sip of the orange juice, only to immediately spit it back into the cup in a hacking fit.

“Are you okay?” Beverly flinched down in her chair. Questioning herself on if she did something wrong.

“Did you look over the juice bottle?! Shits gotta be expired by a few months!” speaking through his heavy hacking.

“sorry.” she passively apologized. Seeing a snickering clown from the corner of her vision. She was sure the juice expired much quicker than that.

“whatever, I'll drink later at the rave set up. Have to be there all day for it.” Erik grumbled with a shoveling of food in his mouth. Pennywise nabbing his chance while his attention was off Beverly.

“can I walk pen?” the clown mimicked her voice. Hearing Beverly suck in a nervous breath.

“hes fine tied up outside.” Erik looked up at her.

“yeah, he is.” Beverly spoke softly. This clown was going to get her hurt if he kept doing this. Right when Eriks attention turned away, Pennywise spoke up again.

“i can walk him on the way to get groceries.” speaking quickly in mimicked voice.

“why do you want to go out?!” Eriks patience being lost, Beverly was now snagged in making up excuses to dig herself out of a hole.

“i thought I should get fresh air.” there was nothing else she could really say. Body shivering under Eriks pinning glare. Chest restricting the further Erik went on in silence.

“we'll talk later about it when Trey gets here.” returning back to his food. Scraping the fork heavily against the plate. A show of his unhappiness to her asking all these questions he knew, that she knew he didn't like.

Beverly felt incredible unease at the answer he gave. Last time this happened she was punished by being dropped in a sketchy part of the city with a jacket stuffed full of drugs to sell for the day. The clown did not push any further with his mimicry. She assumed he was momentarily satisfied into quieting down. Questioning what he would do later if Erik pressed back that she still couldn't go anywhere.

There was no more talking between them until Erik heard a knock at the door. Motioning toward it for Beverly to go open while he stayed eating. Watching her the entire time she did the task of opening the door as quiet as she could. When Trey saw her answer the door he stepped back. Him being unable to hear the clown chuckling not too far at seeing the reaction.

“someone's not a fan.” the clown spoke behind her. Unable to be replied too in the presence of others.

Beverly stepped aside when Erik approached. Standing off to the side without a word in waiting for Erik to tell her what would happen.

“Beverly's wants to walk around.” he gestured to Beverly then toward Trey. “You have to babysit her.”

“what,why?! Don't I have to help set up today?!” Trey exclaimed, looking back and forth between the two.

“we just need your van. Consider this taking the day off.” Erik ignored Trey's stress over the given task.

“why tho? and why me? Get Victoria to babysit!” Trey argued. A pause followed between the two. Erik faced Beverly with a cold look.

“go wait in the back.” Erik commanded. Beverly nodding with a quick walk to the bedroom. Even if Beverly was sent away there was still one standing by spying for her.

“she's cheating and your the one to keep her out of trouble. I trust you'll kick the douchebags ass if you figure out who it is too.” Erik bringing out a cigarette to light his anger away. “now be a pal and babysit while I set the party. Don't let her too far from the main town center. I have a feeling who ever she knows is somewhere around the town edge.” smacking a wad of money into Trey's hand.

“yeah, yeah, keep a short leash.” Trey pocketed the money. Pennywise laughed over the conversation. Him being beaten by a little human afraid of black cats crossing his path. He'd like to see him try, it would make more entertainment for him if he did. The other pathetic male had right to worry on Beverly ditching him.

“today's going to be fun.” the clown spoke to himself. First thing on his list was breaking that restriction of distance. Walking around the open public in the main town was not going to work for him. Now that he couldn't be around Beverly so openly anymore without her whispering every word. Ignoring him most the time because someone else was around. He had to start being more aggressive on stealing her away.

Hearing her say all the excuses. Watching her be commanded around like a dog. Hearing her defend this rats every action like he's the god of this town. His tolerance had reached its limit on this silly charade. What kind of male would he be, allowing his mate to be harmed or pushed around by another male. That was stopping right now.

“Beverly!” Erik called her back to the front door. She swallowed down her pills for the day in a rush back to Eriks side. Pocketing the rattling bottle in her side pant pocket.

“what are those?” she froze in place at Erik asking her something.

“these? Antibiotics, for my pneumonia.” answering softly with her hand bringing them out to show him. Swallowing when he snatched the bottle from her hand with a quick read over the bottle label.

“your fine, you don't need these anymore. You'll want to sell these.” shoving answers into her mouth to questions he didint bother to ask. Pocketing her meds into his jacket. “do whatever, but stay around town. Trey will be going with you. Don't do anything stupid, babe.” he told her. Walking out to drive off in Trey's van.

“we going somewhere or what?” Trey impatiently asked her.

“yes, a short walk.” she answered. Not really wanting to go anywhere, but Pennywise seemed obsessed with getting her outside for any reason. Staying in doors she knew would be bringing trouble on her head. Looking down at the approaching wolf dog bearing a sly looking grin.

“wait here, I need to get something.” not entirely directed toward Trey, left standing there tapping his foot impatiently on the cement porch.

She looked around the place with carefully handling of everything. Reminding herself that she wasn't allowed to mess up Eriks organization. Second guessing herself when she did find something useful. Taking something without permission wasn't allowed. If Erik found out he would be pissed. Going to the back bedroom instead to try searching her bag for something. Taking one of her old beaten down belts to use for a makeshift leash.

Returning to the front she stepped past Trey to loop on the “leash” over pens neck. Taking in a breath of fresh air before starting their walk. Planning to only head around a couple blocks in a loop back. The task harder then expected with pen yanking her around where he wanted to go. Almost dragging her along with the strength of a moose tugging at his end.

“stop yanking!” speaking through bared teeth down at the wolf. Pen doing so only after they reached the canal to follow. Slowly getting further and further away from the center of town.

“are you really so merry to be stuck as the maid?” receiving no response from Beverly to his question.

“is life really so easy with him? I at least can care for myself.” … “i can give you anything. No one could touch you. You'd almost be a god. Able to watch everyone like ants with all the control. You can make the hecklers suffer. Imagine it.” … “you know he thinks your cheating. That's why that idiot's following us.” he talked on, continuing to go without any response.

“why won't she talk?” he looked from her back at the male following. “he is a bit close. She does not like answering when a rats near.” Irritated that he has not received any sort of verbal communication from Beverly. Not even some sound of annoyance by his usual offerings.

His walking slowed with head turning to glare at the spying follower. Letting out a low growl turning into a lunge of teeth that had Beverly yanked back by the arm. Turning around to yank pen back before he could do whatever he was trying.

“what are you doing?!” Choking pen with a yank of the leash to keep him back. Trey being a few feet farther away then before.

Walking around to be on the side furthest from pen. “can you control that damned thing?!” the startled male shouted at her. The wolf hiding a grin at his success of gaining distance between the two.

Beverly calming down from the mini heart attack she had. Knowing pen was only stopped because he allowed it. He would have easily reached Trey despite her yanking with all her might. Maybe ignoring him wasn't the best, yet she was out of other ideas. She thought by ignoring him long enough he would leave from boredom.

“you have to head back.” Trey told her.

“it'd be better to avoid the public while walking him.” Beverly gestured toward the wolf, ignoring Trey's command.

“Erik doesn't want you leaving the center.” she was warned. Her stopping with a pause to shut her eyes in frustration.

“Trey, it'll be fine. There's nobody out here. If he thinks i am cheating it won't matter where I go anyway.” Not willing to be nagged by Trey who was too afraid to do anything to her. Opening her eyes to walk further down along the river. Surprised when Trey did do something by grabbing her arm.

Beverly didn't have anytime to react as she turned to face him. Catching only a glimpse of wolfed pen opening his jaws full of hooked canine teeth. Biting down into Trey's arm by the time she was fully able to look over her shoulder.

A loud snap of bone followed by Trey's screams of agony ringing out.

Beverly grabbed pen in a headlock on reflex to stop the attack. Feeling him let go she pulled him off Trey. Looking back to check on the man, who was screaming over his broken arm. The limb hanging limply in a 90 degree angle at the break in the middle. Blood flowing off from the shredded skin torn in long rows.

She dragged pen a little farther, still in the headlock. Letting go for them to run when a bit of distance was made. Following the river far from being able to see Trey in her view. Catching her breath after stopping. Looking around for anyone coming after her.

“why did you do that?!” she shouted down at the wolf. Seeing more clearly the smeared blood drying across his muzzle.

“why not? You wouldn't have handled him.” he spoke indifferently up at her.

“he wouldn't have done anything! You didn't have to break his arm!” gesturing angrily back toward the direction they came.

“i would have torn it off, had you not grabbed me so. I won't be tolerating this passive behavior towards your own safety. It is idiotic.” the wolf bared his teeth at being yelled at. As if he was the one who did something wrong by having that male back off from grabbing Beverly.

“i didn't ask you to tolerate anything! I never asked you to get involved at all! Now I am going to be in serious trouble for what you did! What am I going to say to Erik?!” she shouted. “i can't bring you back home! … like I should at all!” yanking the belt off him. “go away and don't follow me!” she walked off in following the river to get away. Hearing multiple crackling sounds from behind her.

“that's the thanks I get for helping?” Pennywise the clown spoke. His smile waving crookedly in a mixed frowning smile. Twitching back and forth between the two expressions.

“you never helped! All you do is cause me problems! Go away!” she shouted over her shoulder toward the clown.

“i have become the sole reason you live! You cannot even rely on yourself for care!” snarling with few steps following her.

“that's my problem. One that I'll fix with Erik over time. Go back to the sewers before something else happens!” Quickening her steps to get further away.

Looking back now and again to see if he was still following. Breathing in a breath of fresh air seeing that he wasn't. admiring her surroundings as the afternoon drew closer. The overhead sun melting the layer of ice off the river to float away in chunks. Sunlight falling between the treetops. The thin layer of snow across the dirt melting in the light. She remembered the little trail she was on now. One that her and the guys followed. It all felt so long ago. Now if only she could keep her life as peaceful as this trail.

“if I avoid Erik long enough so that he gets drunk he won't be nearly as mad.” thinking on how to deal with Erik later.

Rounding a corner with the main bridge coming into view. Beverly was surprised by Victoria being down by the river shore. Lorna and Darius up by Trey's van on the bridge. Fear hitting her that maybe Erik was inside waiting to deal with her.

“there's the little witch!” she heard Victoria shout.

“Victoria get back in the car. Were only supposed to bring her back to Erik!” Darius shouted from atop the bridge. Sounding unhappy at how he had to deal with Victoria down by the river.

“no, shes gonna pay. We can't let her get away with breaking his arm!” Victoria shouted back toward Darius. Beverly rolling her eyes as she approached. Not afraid of facing Victoria in a fight.

“got anything to say?!” she faced back toward Beverly walking up to her.

“i didn't break his arm, pen did.” Beverly was not in the mood at all to shout with Victoria.

“it was your mutt! You must have told it to do it!” Victoria Trudged up to Beverly's space to give her a shove into the river. Unsatisfied by Beverly catching her balance to not fully fall. Only stumbling back to get her feet wet in the shallow water.

“even if I did break his arm like you say. Is it really smart to start a fight?” Beverly stood in the water with no moves to start the fight first. Willing to let it all go, get in the car, and face what Erik would have to say.

“like you would really do anything to me! You were always some quiet freak who moped around like Erik isn't good enough for you! Everybody's tired of your attitude and now you've gone to far!” Victoria stepped forward back into Beverly's space. The two standing in the river separated by only 2 feet between them.

“who knows what you'll do next! Maybe you'll sleep with Trey to not have him snitch on you after this. Or maybe you'll go psycho and threaten us all with a knife! I really don't see what Erik likes about you!”

“i don't have time for this high school petty bull shit! Have him call the cops! I don't care!” Beverly snapped. “stop obsessing over Erik like he was ever yours at all! You're not a love struck teen! Trust me, he's not the popular boy to fight for!” she shouted. Freezing into a flinch at a fist hitting her square into the face. Knocking her back into the slow flowing river. Feeling hot pain pulsing around the middle of her face. Something warm slowly dripping down into the water.

Beverly felt her face, moving her hand to look down at it covered in blood. Her nose dripping the liquid down to flow away with the water. Taking a deep breath of anger to rise up with closed fists. A part of her mind saying it wasn't worth it, but the other roaring that she wasn't going to take it anymore.

Taking a firm hold of Victoria's collar for the start of a punching match. Fists flying back and forth with Beverly quickly gaining the upper hand. Shed been in worser fights before while Victoria on the other hand got only involved with little scraps. Her inexperience showing in the weak punches to the shoulder to desperate kicks that missed most the time. Forced into being pinned against a large boulder resting by a deeper part of the river.

Beverly stopped her attack while keeping a screeching Victoria pinned against the rock. Waiting out the struggling until Victoria would eventually exhaust herself before she would let her go.

Forced away suddenly with a slam to her head. The world spinning around Beverly making it hard to figure out what had happened. Looking slowly back over to see Victoria standing next to Lorna holding a large branch in hand. Muffled yelling in the far distance she barely recognized as from Darius. Unable to realize Lorna was getting closer to her as she was distracted by the yelling.

Feeling another heavy hit against her side. Hitting the ribs that had freshly healed from the last beating they took days ago. Her body falling back into the water entirely to be soaked. Sitting up for only a moment when she was shoved back down under the water. Struggling against someone stepping down on her throat to force her under.

Someone else pinning her chest and arms down to prevent her from twisting free. Her body panicking now for air. Gripping whatever she could for some help to free her. Hearing lots of indistinguishable shouting from Darius arguing with Victoria. The world made up of only blurred shapes distorted by the rippling water.

A large shadow filling her vision, one not caused by lack of air. A low rumble like thunder was heard with the pressure of being held down lifted altogether. Sitting up for a deep gasp of needed air once free. Choking on the air her lungs desperately inhaled. Vision clearing enough to see what was going on.

Victoria and Lorna fleeing back into Trey's van with Darius. Standing next to Beverly was a large crocodile seeming ancient with all the moss hanging off its body. Teeth long and sharp sticking out in all directions being more like tusks. The large scales upon its back being like sections of tree bark forming into half a log looking long fallen into the water.

Her breath catching up to her abling her to get up. Leaning against the large boulder she had Victoria pinned to earlier. Nose still dripping a small amount of blood staining the rock where it landed. A gloved hand taking a hold of her face to turn her for a better look.

yanking her head away from the grip. “don't touch me!” she snapped.

“stop fussing!” he grabbed a hold of her jaw to turn her again for a look. Only having a quick glance when Beverly broke free with a smack of his arm.

“i told you to go away!” she shouted. Fighting to keep her emotions in check. Not wanting to break down in tears in the middle of the river with him nearby.

“and if I did you'd be face down in the river.” his hand pointed down at the spot she was drowning in.

“i would have been fine!” she trudged out of the river to the dry shore. Wringing out the water as best she could from her clothes. Uncontrollable shivering in the cold air completely soaked in freezing water. Leaning against a tree so she wouldn't collapse under pain. Skull pulsing along with her aching ribs after a beating from that heavy branch.

“liar! You crumpled after being hit by those cowards. You should have taken your chance and kill the one you had alone.” stepping over to her side.

“yeah, and then what?! I get arrested for murder! I don't want to fight with anybody! I want a normal life!” her shouting broken by heavy coughing.

“i can sweep it away when you're done. Same as when I swept away your hospital bills. Or how that idiot with broken arm called police. Better yet, I can handle them all for you.” he offered.

“you don't get it.” Beverly wheezed against the tree.

“apparently not or maybe you're lacking self preservation. Your making it a chore to keep you alive. Nature itself is practically ready to pull you down under the roots for the worms.” he complained.

“if i am such a chore why do you bother? Step out of my life or just kill me already!” she spat bitterly. Her coughing starting up again.

“i should put your pathetic little life out of its misery.” frown showing rows of sharp teeth bared over her. “save that pathetic male his time of doing so. Save your own species from useless offspring by you coupling with some pathetic suitor.”

“then get it over with already!” wheezing out the sentence as tears built up in her eyes.

“ha! I could, but you can barely stand! Not much of a game heh heh.” laughing as he pushed Beverly down with a shove. Her failing to catch herself from falling onto the leaf littered dirt. trying to sit up was stopped by a hand shoving her back down. Knocking the wind out of her when pinned down under the full weight of the clown leaning over her body.

“i want a challenge. I want you to fight. So that when you do I can laugh at your pathetic struggle. While you won't be able to do anything, but beg me to make it all stop.” grinning wickedly down at her.

“you'll have to get me first clown! I've already dealt with your shit once! If you plan to do something you better do it before i am out of Derry tonight!” Beverly kicked his chest. A hiss released between his gritted teeth, but nothing more then that.

“I'll think of something. In the meantime you should be careful little Beverly.” letting out a guttural growl as he moved off her. Disappearing in the short time out of Beverly's view between her sitting up and standing.

“I am sure you will.” She whispered to the empty air. Sure that he was still listening in case she muttered an insult.

With a bit of a struggle she made it back to the apartment. Opening the door slowly to not make a sound. Fearing Erik may be waiting there for her to come back. Stepping in with a look around for him. Going in further as Erik appeared to be absent. Heading straight to the bathroom for a full look at her injuries.

In the mirror she saw the full brunt of what Victorias punch did. Her nose only bruised instead of broken like she thought. Blood left in a trail down over mouth to drip off her chin. A scrub of warm soap water clearing it up. Revealing little cuts marking around her face. A larger bruise marking her neck where it was stepped on. Feeling around the back of her head she felt the bump forming at the base.

Looking more around her body she saw further marks. Decorating around her knuckles to down along her arms.

“More scars to add onto the pile.” She sighed. Going out to gather new clothes for another shower. Erik wouldn't like her showing up a literal bloody mess. It would throw off the whole party. “ how will i even get to the party?” She thought. “Trey was suppose to take me. Then i guess Darius was suppose to? I doubt any else will now after that river beating. Maybe they're hoping i was ate by that crocodile. I wasn't, but it might not stay that way.” She sat on the edge of the tub. Staring momentarily at the faucet knobs.

Turning them on a little hesitantly. Imagination running wild on what the clown could be planning. No way he'd leave her be before she left for the party. Escaping Derry where he was never able to reach any of the losers. She breathed in the hot rising steam to sooth her. Feeling along the ribs that were hit for anything out of place. Touching over a weird fabric.

Glaring at the spot she remembered being covered in that spider threading. Used to stitch her side together in the diner. Her gaze going up to look at the sink nearby. Stomping over to it to shout down the piping.

“ forgot to take the threading off, asshole!” Stepping back over to the shower. Not sure what to do about it herself. Would it eventually rot off like normal webbing would? Or is it now just a permanent part of her skin?

“Can't ask to get it off now.” getting into the shower.

After being fully clean in new clothes she had went on to do chores. Aiming to get as much done as possible to appease Eriks anger to a more manageable level. A voice in the back of her mind telling her it wouldn't matter. She was better off buying cover up for the bruises later.

It was getting late with no calls from Erik about the party. Maybe she would end up skipping the party. Erik may have made the mistake of tasking Victoria to grab her.

“I did mess up by leaving the center. If i hadn't, Trey would have gotten me to the party. Erik also wouldn't be twice as mad.” She sat anxiously on the couch. A knock on the door having her jump to her feet. Racing over to calmly open the door.

“Wow you’re actually here.” Darius surprised at Beverly answering the door.

“ yeah.” Beverly spoke quietly with a nod.

“I thought you might be in the hospital after Victoria tried to drown you. … And then that croc showing up. … Erik wanted me to get you. I could drive you to the hospital first if you want?” sounding like he did regret what happened earlier.

“No. I am sure Erik must be pretty worried.” She gave a smile to cover her anxiety. Stepping out to get into the van with Darius.

The car ride was awkwardly silent. Beverly clawing into her leg with the approaching Derry town line. Looking out for any glowing eyes watching from the forest. Or something suddenly appearing in the middle of the road to force them into a car wreck. None of it came, crossing the bridge out past the Derry town sign. Beverly's body released all the building tension it had been gathering. Relaxing into the front seat for the rest of the drive.

Stomach twisting itself back into knots as they parked outside the party. Readying herself to meet an angry Erik if he wasn't drunk yet. Following Darius the entire way through navigation of the party goers.

Huge burning bonfires, a makeshift bar set up, a table of a keg pyramid. Huge crowds dancing all over the place near multi colored mini strobes. Some DJ blasting out music from an amateur set up.

“Beevy your heere.” She heard Eriks cheerful voice before spotting him. pulled into a friendly tight hug. “So happy to seesha.” He slurred.

“ definitely wasted.” She thought.

“Happy to see you too Erik” She patted his back in the awkwardly returning hug.

“You drink? Havin drinkin yet? Illllgo get you drink.” He slurred on his way to the bar before Beverly could answer any of that.

“Erik i-” she stopped, not bothering to finish that she didn't drink. She could just pour it out. He didn't take long to return with a cup of beer.

“Heeere go babe.” He clumsily held it out.

“ thanks Erik” She thanked him with a careful taking of the cup. Surprised he didn't spill half of it along the way back. Erik didn't answer, going off to hang out with some random drinking strangers. Beverly went the opposite way toward a spot away from everything. Leaning against a tree to be some look out for trouble makers.

Looking from the crowd down at her beer. She didn't like drinking, but was getting pretty thirsty. This party was going to be going on for quite a while and she doubted they were serving water. Taking small sips at a time as she looked over the crowd.

Wondering why the clown didn't take his chance earlier.

“ he knows I'll come back with Erik is why. Doesn't take much to figure that out. Tomorrow's gonna be filled with BS i am sure.” She thought to herself. “All the more reason i shouldn't be drinking this cheap junk. Dealing with the clown and a migraine. Now there's a true nightmare.” boredly swirling the cup in hand. Taking another sip from the cup. Watching Erik happily chug beer with a group of idiots.

Attention turning to the crowds dancing. Sensing something strange as if being watched. A heaviness settling at the bottom of her stomach. On edge she stopped leaning against the tree. Searching more thoroughly across the crowds for something wrong. Seeing somebody out of the corner of her eye.

A man staring directly at her from behind a tree he poorly hid behind.

Far away from everybody else. She Stared back at him, eyes locking to let him know he was spotted. He stepped further away from the tree at the disclosure of each other. Seeing more of his face had Beverly recognizing the man.

“... Henry Bowers?”

“The clowns pulling the same trick twice? Sending Henry to deal with what he can't? I can take care of Henry no problem.” She grumbled, heading right over to tackle the problem head on.

“Henry what are you doing here?” asking outright.

“Pennywise told me to watch you.” He answered.

“Right, did he tell you anything else?” her tone filled with skepticism that, that is all Pennywise told.

“no.” shaking his head.

“did he ask you to drag me back to Derry?” watching Henry shake his head again. “what did he say exactly?” continuing her interrogation.

“he said that he was a old friend in need of a favor.” fidgeting a little.

“that's right, he went to the asylum after that big fight ages ago.” Beverly remembered. Searching over Henry made it obvious he left the place maybe only hours earlier. Still wearing that overly white sterile looking uniform all the patients wear. Hair cut incredibly short, showing off a massive scar across his skull. The last time they all saw him was after that fall down the well. Or ,in her case, the newspaper article the next morning if that could count. Marking him as the child murderer that the losers knew was not true.

“... did you walk here?” she asked, the clown certainly would be unable to transport him out here.

“yes. He took me to the Derry town line to have me walk the rest of the way. Not too hard to find the only place with a party going on.” he answered. Beverly on guard still despite him being overly passive. He was much different from the last time they all met.

“seems like your not very mad after all that happened.” she said.

“no, I haven't been very mad since joining the hospital. I don't fully remember what happened though. Doctors tell me it's because of the hit my head took at the bottom of the fall.” he said.

“what is the last thing you remember?” she asked, sipping her drink. Waiting for an answer that Henry looked to be having trouble with. His eyes looking all over the place with fidgeting around the end of his sleeves.

“i remember … fighting with rocks. … me coming home and checking the mailbox … the run down house.” he got out with some difficulty.

“... you remember what you did?” she asked. Him shaking his head in return. “remember what you did to me and the guys?” Another head shake from him. “ … you remember me at all?”

“Beverly marsh, from school.” he answered quicker then the other times.

“anything else about me?” Henry having difficulty again on answering the question.

“... i-i don't. I am sorry. Should I? Did I do something really bad? the doctors keep telling me I did bad things. I am sorry if I did. I don't do bad things anymore.” he apologized, despite not remembering any of his past actions.

“he must have hit his head hard. The guys did tell me it was a huge fall. They were surprised to read he lived without a broken spine. Maybe Pennywise made sure of that.” she thought.

“it's fine Henry. Is that scar part the reason for your memory loss?” she asked.

“mhmm. Doctors say they found me in the river barely conscious with my skull cracked open. They had a little trouble getting my name I couldn't even remember that.” he answered.

“hmm.” she hummed. Despite all the answers he gave her something still felt gravely wrong. Was he just a good actor following some script the clown gave? Feeling sicker than before she talked to Henry. Swallowing down her sickness to carefully lean against a nearby tree. Wanting to avoid tipping Henry off that something was wrong with her.

“you alright? You look really sick.” Henry asked.

“a lot of stress lately. Not helped by you staring.” she spoke as clearly as she could without sounding sick. Seeing her vision blurring back and forth out of focus. The clear crowd of dancers turning into one blob covered in spotted colored lights.

“sorry. Must of been weird to see heh.” Henry gave a light laugh. “that other guy has been watching you a lot since you got here. Do you know him to?” he asked.

“the happy drunk guy? That's Erik, he's my boyfriend.” she answered, swirling her drink to focus on something other then her worsening condition.

“no, the bartender. The one that made your drink.” he pointed. Beverly's eyes following the direction he gave. Having to take a moment for her vision to focus back on the person.

Heart rocketing up into her throat at seeing Charles staring intently from behind the bar. She looked back down at her drink in linking up with why she was feeling so sick.

Tossing it aside to spill onto the forest floor. Praying she didn't drink too much of the drugged liquid to pass out.

“how could I be so stupid. I didn't watch it get made. Relied on wasted Erik giving me a drink.” she thought. Thinking fast on how she could get out of this situation.

No car, no phone, Erik was too wasted to realize what was going on. Nobody else would help her, the only other person possibly reliable was Henry. That meant she had to rely on someone who could be just as dangerous. She was going to pass out, she knew that, with little time to decide where. Should it happen randomly out in the woods? Or head back to Derry and gamble with Pennywise being in a better mood.

“Henry, I need you to get me back to Derry. Don't let that guy near me!” her tone dead serious. Heading in the direction of Derry before Henry could give a nod.

Not getting very far from the party as her walk stiffened. Legs becoming numb, vision completely out of focus and unable to walk on the uneven forest terrain. She stumbled over to roughly lean against a tree. Taking a knee to stay up against the trunk. Henry rushed to her side to help her back up. hurrying to get her moving forward again.

“we cant stop, that guys been following.” Henry warned her as they moved. Beverly fighting to keep herself moving. The run getting harder with the sloping terrain covered in blockages turning into an obstacle course. Going over fallen logs, around boulders, Beverly hoped this was slowing up Charles just as much. Would it matter in the end if Pennywise forced her to be abandoned. Would she need to beg him in order to be saved? Would she even be able to if she passed out before meeting up? What should she even say?

Her legs were giving out under her. Needing to now lean fully on Henry with an arm over his shoulder. Body turning more numb against her will as the drug took hold. Clinging on as best she could as her grip loosened.

“i-i can't walk.” Beverly admitted to Henry. holding back her fearful whimpers. Forced to accept her body was no longer cooperating with her.

“Derry is not far, I'll get you to Pennywise, okay?” he spoke softly to comfort her. carefully picking her up into his arms for carrying the rest of the way. The pace drastically slowing enough for Charles to catch up to the two of them. Beverly would see his silhouette passing over hills right behind them. Hearing him shout something indistinguishable at them.

“don't leave me.” Beverly begged Henry. The approaching Derry line meant the meeting of Pennywise was soon to be as well. Fearing that despite all the work Henry did to get her here he would be forced away by the clown.

Fighting to stay conscious she could feel Henry stumbling over the earth. Saying something she was unable to understand at this point. Hearing Charles still off in the background shouting. Then she felt Henry took a stumble. Staying still where he kneeled in the dirt to pass her off to another pair of arms. the recognizable feel of the smooth old fabric of Pennywise's suit. Latching onto his collar with one hand and the other grabbing the fabric at his shoulder. Gathering strength to at least do that if she wasn't able to speak.

Shivering in fear against him as he held her. Burying her face into his chest, desperate for him to give protection.

She got the reaction she didn't want him to give. Being pushed away from him. Her grip tightened on the fabric as she sobbed into his chest.

“please don't, please don't, I'm sorry!” she begged repeatedly. Apologizing all she could to not be forced away from him. A rumble in his chest made into an angry growl. He worked harder to pry her hands free of him. Her fastened heart rate having the drug hit harder on her then before. The last thing she experienced before her blackout was being pushed off.

Hours earlier, under the Derry roads, IT smashed a piece of wood against the stone walls of his lair. The chunks falling down into a pile of other things broken in rage.

“stupid girl! That stupid girl!” he snarled, grabbing another random object nearby to toss at the wall. “no thanks, can't save her own skin! Pathetic creature that deserves to suffer! Cant get away, because of what?!” he roared at the air. Thinking of how stupid Beverly's actions were. Frustrated he couldn't figure out why she followed such a harmful way of living. Any animal would run away it was an obvious answer. She could at least fight back to free herself, but she didn't.

He thought of so many times when he was going to move on. Leave Beverly to her stupid little existence, maybe even kill her eventually. However, again, and again she showed she had some fight in her. He saw a little spark of the flame she used to have that made her worthy of courting in the first place. He felt some excitement when she fought against that female rat in the river. Stepping in when Beverly was ganged up on by the cowards. Could her fire be brought back? Not with that pathetic male owning her.

Why was he feeling this? A want to see her free, a sickness that won't go away that he first thought was due to what he ate. A warmth in the core of his chest. It was hotter than the dead lights forming his body. An alarming sensation he never had before. It was on the level of the pain he first felt, only it was more pleasant then a sharp aggressiveness. It burned more warmly around Beverly and cooled down when she was away. The pleasantly warm void collapsing to an annoying aching.

“is this what humans call an infection?” he thought. Would it kill him? He'd never been sick, ever. He couldn't get sick, leaving the sensation a mystery to him.

He first felt this way around the time he saved her in the meat locker. A deep desire to keep her safe, and not just in a way to keep her from other males in general. Becoming stronger the longer he spent with her from then on. Right now he wanted to see her again. Even if she did yell at him for showing up. That party the male was throwing was tonight. His cowardly friends would be there willing to cause more trouble with Beverly.

“i will need something that can reach outside Derry.” he muttered to himself. “or someone, a puppet, I can send off without needing to manage.” he paused, standing in thought. Turning to pace around his pile with arms crossed over each other.

“not much to work with. All these prey too weak. I'll need someone that can at least defend themselves. … that boy Henry is still around. Not doing much but rotting away in that asylum up on that hill.” his fingers tapped along his arms. Turning toward the many large pipes branching from off his inner sanctum. Passing by the ones he knew did not lead to where he wanted. Walking down the correct one he reached. Reaching the asylum quickly on the little time he had between now and the party.

Slinking out of a sink was a large grey rat. Crawling up to sit upon the porcelain edge for any other humans walking about. Seeing only a nurse working on the other half of the room. The creature crawling down the side to squeeze under the nearby door. Following the walls around in searching for his goal. Stopping by a door edging next to two doctors talking in the entrance.

“have any trouble?”

“josh was stubborn as always. Nothing other then that.”

the rat started up at one of the doctors. Sending an uncontrollable urge to ask about Henry.

“where's Henry?” one of the doctor asked, out of place of the conversation.

“outside, why do you ask?”

“... I don't know...” the other answered, confused over himself on why he asked. The rat going out past the door down the hall to a vent. Squeezing through an impossibly small space between the vent face. Following the fresh air passing through to pop out another vent face into the outside. Climbing up along the gutter to the roof. Peering out over the fenced in yards of the hospital. Searching over every human, finding Henry alone by a table.

Jumping from the roof to appear out from behind a tree past the fencing. Catching Henry's attention enough to pull him over for a conversation with the appearing clown.

“hi-ya Henry!” the clown greeted cheerfully.

“who are you?” Henry asked. Pennywise's grin dropping a little to seem sad at Henry's guardedness.

“aww, don'tcha recognize your old friend?” the clown said sadly.

“uh- who are you?” Henry asked, his guardedness sinking down to a bit of guilt.

“Pennywise, the dancing clown. Don't you remember me? Oh, I forgot, your condition.” Pennywise gestured to the scar on Henry head.

“yes, i-i am sorry I can't remember.” Henry's words full of honest guilt that he couldn't.

“don't worry bout that. you can pay me back with a little favor.” Pennywise's smile returned.

“i can't leave.” Henry gestured to the fenced in yard.

“course you can. I asked the doctors if you could. You're out early on good behavior. All you have to do now is step out the door.” the clown pointed toward a gate in the fenced wall. One that Henry swore was never there before, but its not like doors suddenly appeared out of thin air. The clown smiled the entire time Henry tentatively opened the gate. Peering back at all the security wandering the yard without so much as a look in his direction. Passing through the gate with expectations that alarms would suddenly blare out around him.

“see, you're free!” the clown waved a hand at the open forest before the both of them.

“w-what favor did you want me to do?” Henry asked, worried what task he was going to be asked.

“i need you to watch someone for me.” the clown answered. “but first I need you to close your eyes for a second.”

“close my eyes?” Henry raised a brow at the strange clown. Questioning if he should trust this “old friend”.

“only for a second. Something small to help you focus.” the clown spoke softly in the friendliest of manner. The spike of suspicion dying down in Henry. Closing his eyes like he was told.

“now for a bit of tinkering.” the clown thought. Using a lot of energy to switch around some wiring in Henry mind. Fixing his sense of direction while shoving down any aggression toward Beverly out of existence. Negative memory's remaining shoved down as well. New feelings of Henry and himself being good pals replacing the empty space.

“feel a little better?” the clown asked. Henry opening his eyes to feeling different then before. Most noticeable was the more friendly feeling toward the clown standing by him.

“yeah, it really did help.” Henry smiled at the clown. The smile dropping at realizing they were no longer by the fenced in yard. Standing out in some area of forest away from the sight of others.

“good, very good, now I need you to walk a bit to a party.” Henry was directed by Pennywise.

“how'd we get here, and what party?” Henry questioned.

“we walked here, remember. I need you to watch someone, they're heading to a party that I won't be able to go to. I need you to go for me.” Pennywise spoke, his tone not sounding like anything amiss was happening. Henry trusting his old friend wasn't planning anything bad.

“who do I need to watch?” he asked.

“Beverly marsh, remember her, from school?” Pennywise asked.

“sort of?” Henry looked hard through the few memories he had. Blurred visions of a redheaded girl always shooting glares at him.

“good boy. Now hurry off. She'll be there for a while, but it's a long walk there.” the clown told Henry with a small send off in the direction he knew the party was happening.

Pennywise forced to stay back at the very edge of the Derry town line. Impatiently pacing to the thoughts questioning whether he did enough rewiring in Henrys mind. Past Derry he had absolutely no control of Henry's actions. Nor the ability to sense him after getting far enough from the town limit.

“the idiot better not get lost!” Pennywise growled. The sky darkening enough to reveal the party's location. Large flashing colored lights timed to pulsing music vibrations felt for miles. He saw Beverly leave in a car some time ago, so he knew full well she was there now. Waiting and waiting under the light of the rising full moon.

Sensing that Henry was suddenly returning with Beverly he perked up from his bored slouching. Something was wrong, he knew from the odd pacing they were going at. Repeatedly stopping then going with travel speed changing.

“is that idiot fighting with her? … Is she fighting him?” he wondered. Their energy's were constantly close to one another. Yet he did not understand why they were stumbling so much. Guessing that Beverly spotted his spy, getting angry enough to drag him back to Derry. He wouldn't mind her coming back to shout at him. It took her away from that rat infestation of a party. His core warming to the thought of her return.

The warmth exploding into rage as Henry came over the hilltop with Beverly in his arms. Panting as he struggled down the steep slope over to Pennywise. Falling onto his knees in exhaustion past the Derry border.

“what happened?!” Pennywise growled, taking Beverley up into his own arms. Smelling the scent of chemicals on her mixing with fear. Her body limp against his besides the shivering death grip she had on him.

“a guy spiked her drink. He's been chasing us through the woods.” Henry answered, shrinking away when Pennywise let out an animalistic growl.

Pennywise kept Beverly close, wanting to calm her down. Trying to convey to her that everything would be alright

“hey! What are you freaks doing to my girl!” Pennywise heard the voice of that rotten male on top the hill shouting.

“that's the guy!” Henry whispered.

The fire in ITs core raging like the sun with a need to harm this walking rot of a creature. For that to begin he had to separate Beverly from his body. At first he carefully pushed her away to move her. Stiffening at the exploding scent of fear off her desperate panicking. Listening to her frantic sobbing begging only made him more protective. Wanting to hold her close, but he had a matter to deal with first.

He let out a deep growl as that strange male came closer to the three of them. Having to skip the gentleness to pry off Beverly. Her grip turning loose on the last push of her off. Questioning for a moment if her passing out in that moment was a good thing or not.

“take her to the Neibolt house! No where else!” he spoke through sharp long teeth. Scaring Henry into listening closely while being handed Beverly. Running off the moment Pennywise pointed for him a direction to head.

He looked back at the disgusting male continuing to shout. Walking off, in the same direction of Henry, while ignoring the shouting. Stepping far enough to hide out of the males view. He wanted to make sure this pathetic rot wouldn't have the luck of stumbling free from his fate in Derry. He wanted to create a buffer between the edge of Derry and the rat.

All the anger IT was holding had made it hard to focus on one form. He wanted something that would cause pain and a lot of it. Something with many teeth for ripping and sharp claws for tearing. Skin turning an oily black shining under the moonlight. The dark form collapsing to the ground into a crawling shadow. Stalking its prey from under the lowest brush. Careful with ITs steps on where he wanted to lead its prey.

“didn't think id be working this hard for a fun night.” Charles spoke through his out of breath panting. “didn't expect my date to be stolen either.” he mumbled. Striking a heated nerve in the stalking predator listening in.

“think you're a charmer?” IT mimicked Beverly's voice. Tone leaking disgusted anger in the sarcasm spoken.

“still awake, should have used 2 pills.” IT heard Charles whisper. “Why don't you come here? I promise to take care of you.” Charles spoke overly nice as he followed the false voice, unaware that he was no longer the hunter.

“i wouldn't get close if I were you.” IT continued with the false voice. Freely mocking in full confidence that the overly confident Charles would ignore his honest warnings. Leading Charles deeper into the forest for the hunt to begin.

“or else what? I ran after you this far not to head back without a round or two. Erik sure won't notice you missing. I am not afraid of him finding out either!” he boasted while searching for the missing Beverly.

“don't say I didn't warn you. Heh heh.” the false voice took a shift. Charles stopping his search at the new voices reveal. Someone male, but voice a higher pitch hiding something sinister. IT could smell the fresh fear off the male. Drool dripping from the many mouths adorning the oily black body. Crouching back readying to lunge from its perch.

Charles looked around himself. Fear growing when he did not recognize where he was. Head turning up toward the moon lit tree line for a possible glance of building lights. Swallowing down his fear under the many pine tree branches reaching out over him in the shape of clawed hands. Head turning up toward one specific tree moving more in the wind then the others. A flash of yellow eyes, multiple jaws of varying teeth lunging down on top of him.

He didn't have a chance to scream before the wind was knocked out of him. An arm brought up to block bitten into. Hooked teeth shredding right through the thick jacket he thought would provide some protection. Struggling under the body of a heavy monster covered in thrashing chomping jaws. Thick drool flying off the rows of teeth to coat anything nearby.

Fighting the beast he got back onto his feet to bolt. Ripping his arm away to free himself. A horrible mistake with the curved teeth pulling the skin back for peeling off the muscle.

Standing there as Charles ran, IT laughed deep and guttural with a spitting out of the shredded skin. Not intending to eat the filthy rot IT had no idea what Charles would do to his stomach. Sprinting after to the sound of ITs own loud roar piercing the air. Thrilled to have a hunt with prey worth killing, even if it meant no meal. Laughing at how surprisingly fast Charles could run when terrified. Dodging ITs snapping jaws around trees, over logs, up steep slopes.

Charles reaching a short clearing when he disappeared from ITs vision. Short silence broken by a thud then a loud scream of pain.

“should have watched where he was going.” IT spoke to himself in laughter. He expected that with the help of the moonlight Charles would have seen the edging. Humans had such poor vision in the dark it was a wonder how they survived any animals hunting before houses were made.

Charles was laying at the bottom of a deep crevice, sitting in a small stream barely an inch deep. When he landed his hip hit the ground first, then a snap, followed by the rest of him. The base of his spine in excruciating pain preventing him from moving. He thought he had some luck in that his legs were not paralyzed after his spine snapping.

“oooh my, what happened?” a voice above spoke in a fake tone of concern.

He looked up at the beast, who was now looking over the edging of the drop. Seeing ITs form more clearly against the moon shining behind its back. Multiple arms sprouting from its sides, heads ending in various jaws, covered in multiple eyes staring down in hunger. The monster leaning forward in arms stretching out against the rocky wall edge. Crawling down the wall closer to where Charles laid.

His mind raced on how to get the monster away. Screaming at IT to try scaring it off like IT was a dumb animal intimidated by useless noise. When that didn't work he resorted to grabbing various objects to chuck at IT. The beast wincing at rocks hitting close to a few eyes, but not slowing its pace toward the injured man.

Charles fate was sealed as the beast took its final step onto the leveled earth. Clawed into by a strong grip literally yanking the muscle off the bone. Piece by piece tearing away at his body. Going slow with careful work around important arteries. Making the suffering torture last as long as possible. His screams going unheard out in the far woods. Even if they were heard, no one would come. He was another death joining under the dark old roots of Derrys soil.

IT biting deeply to snap his limbs like toothpicks. Thrashing him around to create a loud snap like a gunshot from each limb. Dropping him harshly to bite at the ribs for more crackling for IT to enjoy. IT being even more satisfied at hearing Charles whining screams cease at a popping of ribs. Yanking strips of shredded skin from the bones.

The torture stopped with Charles coated in his own blood. Keeping himself from looking at the damage his body was suffering through. Legs baring their bones, cleaned of meat, to the open air. Pounds of flesh removed all the way up to his shoulders. Seeing chunks of his own body hanging off tree branches as if they were decorations. Charles doing one last trick to try surviving, playing dead. Head laying down in the stream, still with eyes tightly shut.

Opening his eyes at a warm orange glow appearing over him. He looked toward it in excited relief that it was someone with a flashlight coming to his rescue.

The happy feeling of freedom being in sight dying to what it truly was.

All the mouths forming one large jaw of an insect. Opening wide for a deep tunnel of rowed teeth bringing forth swirling lights as blinding as the sun. the next breath Charles took felt like he inhaled a blistering flame.

IT had felt death was far too easy an escape for Charles.

#It (2017) #pennywise #beverly marsh #pennywise x beverly marsh #beverly still kicks pennywise's ass #12 years after movie #between two voids ch 10