#my feelings are so disgusting sometimes i wish i could pause my brain for a second

[readyforthegarden]

can you do the first kiss prompt “you just cant help yourself, can you?” with sammy <33

You rolled your eyes, ignoring the sounds of drunken kiss noises that Jake was making towards you as Sam sat down next to you by the campfire. Ever since the band of brothers had helped you move (more like go through all of your things while you and Danny loaded the rented van) and found your seventh grade year book with a sparkly pink pen heart drawn around your best friend Sam’s photo, the second oldest Kiszka loved to rib you for it.

Sam leaned down, picking up a small pebble and flicking it at his brother, grinning when it thwacked him square in the forehead.

“One day, he’ll stop teasing you.” Sam said softly. You nodded, your fingernail scraping absentmindedly at the damp label on your beer bottle.

“Well it’s been two years now, so…” you trailed off with a shrug. Sam nodded, taking a swig from his own bottle, looking around the party. You watched the light from the flickering flames cast shadows and highlight his face as he moved. His long, slender nose leading a perfect ski slope to his plush lips. The way his hair had grown out again, shining healthily in the glow of flames. Truth be told, your crush on Sam, no matter how much you touted it was just a school girl thing, it was over that summer, you barely liked him that way anyway, had never stopped. In fact, it’d grown bigger since the seventh grade.

“Do you want to know an embarrassing Jake story? Finally make it even?” Sam quirked an eyebrow towards you. You nodded, scooting closer to him as he leaned in, holding up a hand to hide his lips as he started whispering. “Jake sneezed on stage so hard in Indiana, he had a huge trail of snot hanging down his nose to his lips. I think he thought it was sweat and he kept licking at it. Finally Josh saw it and told him, but it was a good half hour of loogie-face.” You giggled, imaging the suave Jake Kiszka with a gross string of snot on his face.

“That’s disgusting!” Sam laughed and nodded as you asked if that was the absolute truth. “Rockstars, they’re just like us, huh?”

“More than you know. How’s your new job going? My mom said she ran into yours at the store a few weeks ago, and she mentioned it.”

“It’s okay.” you nodded. You told him some small details, trying to make sure not to bore him with your average job. “Sorry it’s pretty boring to hear about.”

“No it’s not.” Sam shook his head. “I like hearing about your life any time I can.” your cheeks reddened and you could’ve sworn you saw Sam’s eyes flit down to your lips before coming back to your eyes. “I miss you…a lot. Sometimes I wish you knew how to play an instrument so we could’ve fit you in the band. Then I could be traveling the world with both my best friends.”

“It’d be cool, for sure.” you agreed, feeling deflated at him calling you just his best friend.

“Yeah, but then I think about how being that close to you, all the time, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off of you. We’d make everyone miserable, fighting making up, fighting again…”

“Wait, what?” You blinked rapidly at Sam as he smirked.

“You’re not the only one who drew hearts in their yearbook.” Sam winked. You felt so incredibly flustered, mouth opening and closing like a fish while your brain comprehended his words.

“I don’t believe you!” You gasped. “All this time I thought you thought of me as a sister, you broke my heart taking Jenny D. to the eighth grade formal, by the way.”

“I’m sorry. To be fair, she told me you were going with Mike S., so I only went with her because I thought you were going with him.”

“Yeah that was a mistake. He kissed me that night, my first kiss, and slobbered on me so badly I could still feel his spit on my chin after three washes.” you shook your head. “Man, you could’ve been my first kiss if we’d gone together…”

“Damn. I wish I had been. I at least wouldn’t have slobbered on you. Not until the third date, anyway.” Sam laughed, then paused, giving you a look that made it feel like everyone else around you both had disappeared. “We could still have a first kiss, though.”

“Sam, I think that boat sailed for both of us a long, long time ago.”

“Yeah but you and I have never kissed.” he smiled gently. “So if we kissed now, it would be a first.”

“Sam,” you breathed nervously.

“I know that after all these years, the first person I think of when I get home from tour is you.” he admitted. “My crush is still very much alive, is yours?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” and without another wasted moment, Sam leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. It was a small lingering kiss, but it was everything you had dreamed and imagined through the years. Fireworks in your stomach, tingles in your toes, a smile tugging at the corners of your puckered lips.

When you pulled apart, the firelight was being blocked by a figure, and you both looked up to see Jake smiling down at you both, his eyes hazy and unfocused.

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He asked, winking at you. “Man that crush is getting out of control.”

“Get lost, Jake.” Sam laughed, trying to gently move him away.

“You get lost!” Jake grunted back, not liking getting sassed by his baby brother.

“You know what, we will.” Sam took your hand, tugging you up and leading you around the other young man.

“Where are we going?” You asked as Sam led you to his car.

“A date.” he grinned, fishing his key from his pocket. “We have just over a decade of them we need to catch up on.”

#writing prompt blurb #sam kiszka fluff #sam kiskza x you #sam kiszka x reader #sam kiszka #greta van fleet imagine

[waitingforwinterwinds]

A Clash of Kings - 23 JON III (pages 321-341)

Jon and Co arrive at Craster's Keep, and finally get a lead on Mance Rayder and the missing wildlings. Gilly is unable to join the party... for now.

-

Dywen said Craster was a kinslayer, liar, raper, and craven, and hinted he trafficked with slavers and demons. "And worse," the old forester would add, clacking his wooden teeth. "There's a cold smell to that one, there is."

For half a second I thought "what does the cold even smell like?" then my brain clicked with a smell, and I was like, "oh right, like that, freezer ice and mornings where the frost is on the ground." But like, how do you actually describe the smell beyond the moments when you smell it? Because it's just "it smells like ice."

Also: Craster trades his infants sons to ice demons for reasons. fun! (disgusted sarcasm.)

As he rode past a lightning-blasted chestnut tree overgrown with wild white roses, he heard something rustling in the underbrush.

I don't know why that sentence stuck a bit in my head, maybe because we typically (so far) see golden roses and blue roses, relating to Tyrells and Lyanna, and some part of my hind brain is waiting for these roses to have some kind of relevance even if only symbolically. The imagery of it sounds like it looks cool though.

really need to get myself a print out glossary of house sigils...

"Tell him, wife. Tell the Lord Crow how well content we all are." The woman licked thin lips. "This is our place. Craster keep s us safe. Better to die free than live a slave."

...I get the feeling she already knows, but the Wall's too far and the world so unknown and they're all too afraid to do anything about their (grand)father-husband.

These woman deserve so much better. pfff, name of the series right there. GRRM's A Song of all these women and a good chunk of the boys deserve better.

A girl of fifteen or sixteen years, he judged, dark hair plastered across a gaunt face by the falling rain, her bare feet muddy to the ankles. The body under the sewn skins was showing in the early turns of pregnancy.

Gilly? Hi Gilly!

*adds weight to the steel chair soon to be acquainted with Crasters crotch and skull* we're gonna crack all the things >:(

"I'll not fight a brother while we're beyond the Wall," Jon answered, his voice cooler than he felt.

Oh hon, you've never been cool a day in your life, you just lucked out with an actor who mopes pretty.

Oh, wrong definition of cooler, ahem... moving right along! (I do like Jon, just sometimes I like teasing him more?)

Jon reached to pull aside the cloak he'd hung over the rock, and found it stiff and frozen. He crept beneath it and stood in up in a forest turned to crystal. The pale pink light of dawn sparkled on branch and leaf and stone. Every blade of grass was carved from emerald, every drip of water turned to diamond, Flowers and mushrooms alike wore coats of glass. Even muddy puddles had a bright brown sheen. Through the shimmering greenery, the black tents of his brothers were encased in a fine glaze of ice. So there is magic beyond the Wall after all. He found himself thinking of his sisters, perhaps because he'd dreamt of them last night. Sansa would call this an enchantment, and tears would fill her eyes at the wonder of it, but Arya would run out laughing and shouting, wanting to touch it all.

This sounds amazing, and I wish the show hadn't been made by a pair of asshats so we could have seen even a semblance of this. It's the quiet moments of beauty, the time to pause and breathe, that makes the horrors later all the more poignant and impactful.

"Gilly, he called me. For the gillyflower." "That's pretty." He remembered Sansa telling him once that he should say that whenever a lady told him her name.

Everyone likes to be told their name is pretty, or their hair looks great today, it's true. But also... "My Name is Rottila Phlegmuent." "That's pretty." Jon said, because Sansa had told him too, and she knew far more about what girls liked and courtesies than he did, so he'd trust her judgment on these things. "Really? Do you think so? No one has ever said so before. We'll be married at once!" "(＃°Д°)"

Sam's heart was as big as the rest of him, but for all his reading, he could be as thick as Grenn at times. It was impossible, and dishonorable besides. So why do I feel so ashamed?

Because you know she's in trouble, and you know you're not helping. The logistic of why you can't help mean nothing in the face of the fact that you aren't helping.

It's okay buddy, Gilly at least will be mostly alright. *sigh* this series...

"The wide world is full of people wanting help, Jon. Would that some could find the courage to help themselves. Craster sprawls in his loft even now, stinking of wine and lost to sense. on his board below lies a sharp new axe. Were it me, I'd name it Answered Prayer and make an end." ... "Craster is his own man. he has sworn us no vows. Nor is he subject to our laws. your heart is noble, Jon, but learn a lesson here. We cannot set the world to rights. that is not our purpose. The Night's watch has other wars to fight."

Mormont with the hard truths and hard to swallow pills tonight. (I'm choosing to read these in good faith.)

I don't fully agree with the first statement, only because I know about cults and how fucked up people's brains and beliefs (even in themselves) can get, some people need help but cannot get past their own psychological hurdles to help themselves with out the start from outside help. I wish more people could help themselves, I wish the ladies of Craster's Keep could help themselves. It doesn't end with removing Craster's head from his shoulders though. There's still the Cold Ones, the Others. The ladies can't stay there if they're trying to get away from sacrificing their sons. There's still the trip back south, through the cold, and any predators left in the woods, man or beast... to kill a man in his sleep is one thing, an active opponent? Completely different.

I do like Mormont's 'we can't fix the world, we have our own thing,' both as is but also in a transference of meaning kind of way. No one person or group can fix the whole world, we have to focus on what we can do, can fix, can change and do that, or nothing gets done. We focus and fix our thing, some one else focuses on and fixes their thing, and so on, and so on, and together we've fixed quite a bit before you know it.

Meanwhile the mystery of the empty villages has been solved! Mance has summoned the freefolk for reasons only he, the readers, and viewers know. (Mass exodus by any means necessary.)

#a clash of kings #a song of ice and fire #jon snow #a chapter a day reading #acok #asoiaf

[velvetyh]

rant: please ignore this (TW!)

sometimes i wish life would get back to normal. like in 2019, when i was only stressed about my future. i was having such a great time in uni, i actually missed going every day in my favourite city with my favourite people, chinese was so fun to learn... my uni friends were so welcoming and nice with me, they were friendships like i've never had. ppl genuinely cared about each other, we truly were a group of good friends. the whole class. we were 25, and it always felt like i was hanging out with some friends.

but i was wrong, oh so wrong. they weren't friends, because everyone stopped messaging me when i left france for germany. it was already a heartbreaking leave and it didn't help, at all. i didn't have anyone; my parents were too busy, my brother was constantly partying and having fun with his friends, and i was alone.

then covid came. this fucking thing, i really wish everything would stop. idk if i want this pandemic to stop, if i want my life to stop, if i want my life to stop because of this pandemic, everything is so confusing and exhausting. every psychologist i went to said that my parents were putting too much pressure on my shoulders, where it's absolutely not the case, but they always keep saying that i shouldn't be defending them and try to talk abt it with them. but they're not the problem! my mom is the one that saved me from many suicidal thoughts when i was younger, and im still going for her. i couldn't even imagine the pain i'd bring her if i ever ended my days. but at the same time, i don't want to see her pass away. i don't think i'd ever be able to pick myself up. she sacrificed everything for me, my brother, everything. and i care about her so much that i know it's gonna tear me apart the day she will die.

also today I went to the doctor and I felt like a circus freak. bc of my medical condition, there are still dozens of doctors, surgeons, nurses and medical students that come to see me. i always want to cry when I have to remove my shirt to expose the scar I have on my upper body, because I can see their eyes lingering on it and it makes me so uncomfortable, but at the same time, they have to learn and understand how my body works. it's always super awkward and uncomfortable when you have men or male medical students that take notes on my condition and stare at my body, even if I still wear my bra, I feel so exposed and everybody is staring at me, I always have panic attacks when go see my doctor. he always explains what I have and I wanna tear out the pity that they have in their eyes once they know everything.

yeah... that's pretty much how I feel rn :') plus holiday season isn't helping me much right now, everyone is happy abt Christmas and stuff but I just wanna disappear under the fat layer of snow we have outside and reappear in the spring once the snow will have melted. I'm always sad, I'm always cold, I fucking hate it here

#i know it's a bad idea to open up about my personal life on here but oh well #too late #my feelings are so disgusting sometimes i wish i could pause my brain for a second

[kimthwariru]

Namjoon reaction—calling him a ‘friend’ when he clearly has a thing for you

❀genre: smut, a bit of fluff

❀collage au

(This was originally supposed to be a quick reaction but something happened to me and I couldn’t stop writing)

“Look, Jisoo, I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong” you flash a cheeky smile at your best friend. She’s being going on and on about how this Kim Namjoon guy had a thing for you.

You can’t lie, you’ve seen him around in campus and sometimes you’d wish he would suffocate you with these thighs of his. Ugh. The perfect combo, lean yet masculine physique with a brain that actually functions for a change. You’ve seen the way these collage girls were circling him around and you can’t blame them, the guy was a catch.

But he was not your crowd of people. He was outgoing, social and had loads of what you like to call “the lad friends”. You guessed his main activities were partying and getting shitfaced every night.

You’ve talked to him a couple of times. He uses the same bench as you to read now and then. You would eventually take sneak peeks at the books he was reading, check if he had any taste or not, and the result was always better than what you expected. This guy knew books. He was not just reading what was on the best seller’s that week to look sophisticated in front of others.

When he caught you peaking he’d started having small talk with you. You swear you’ve never experienced a better conversation flow with another human being. This guy screamed comfort. He seemed genuinely curious about the things you were saying. None of that painful act of pretending to be interested just because he wanted to get laid. You had been talking with him for a month straight and aside from a few moments of some what flirty looks his actions never suggested something more.

His aura was welcoming and he always paid attention to the little things. Unlike some other shallow guys out there, he felt…different.

But how different could he really be? You’ve seen the people he hangs out with. Kim Taehyung? He had a relationship with three girls at the same time. Didn’t even apologize for being the biggest jerk in history. You’ve heard Jung Hoseok’s body count was reaching a 3 digit number AND Jeon Jungkook once fucked 4 different girls at the same night.

Just thinking about it makes you sick. It pains you to admit but there’s only one truth to this. Even if Kim Namjoon was interesting, he was definitely a person you needed to stay away from. All the data point to a big fuckboy alert!

“Come on y/n…. If he wasn’t even in the slightest interested in you then why did he tell me explicitly that he wanted you to attend the party??”

“An invitation to a party doesn’t mean anything. Besides, I’m sure I’m not his style. Have you seen the type of girls he hangs out with? Yikes.”

Jisoo smirked at you “Oh, I see you’re stalking him now?”

You shake your head “Don’t be ridiculous! We take Econ together, that’s all. What? Am I supposed to cover my eyes every time I see him?”

“Maybe you should” Jisoo came closer to you “Y/n, we’re going to that party”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“This is a big mistake, I’ll get bored within the hour” You scream at Jisoo over the loud music.

“Don’t be a whiney ass and enjoy yourself for once” she handed you a drink.

Enjoy yourself for once. You and Jisoo’s definition of enjoying one self were clearly very different. You scan the room to look for any familiar faces you could talk to. Unfortunately, not a lot of your acquaintances attended frat parties.

Your head motion immediately pauses when you meet eyes with Namjoon across the garden. Was he looking at you this whole time? You feel your cheeks burn.

Initially, you don’t know how to react but eventually you flash him a small smile and focus back on Jisoo

“Kim Namjoon just gave me the biggest stare of all time” you say as you down your drink

“What!?” Jisoo’s eyes widened “This is the time where I say I told you so.”

You think for a second that maybe Jisoo was right all along. But that just makes the whole thing more dangerous for you. You can’t lie, Namjoon is attractive, but you knew he was trouble. Maybe he liked you today and then liked another girl tomorrow.

Suddenly, you feel a hand touch your shoulder “Hey y/n, Jisoo. Glad you guys made it” Namjoon’s low voice pierced your ears.

Jisoo gave you a look before replying to him “Hey!! We couldn’t miss such a night!” She smiled “right y/n??”

“Yeah!! Totally” you cheer kind of awkwardly.

Namjoon’s eyes fixed on you. You felt his stare eat you up. His whole presence felt angelic yet overwhelming. “Do you guys maybe want to join us? We’re sitting right by the pool”

“Oh! Sure, why not!” Jisoo answered almost immediately

You were walking towards the pool, Namjoon was pacing right next to you, he was so close to the point where you could sort of smell his cologne. You swear you could get drunk off his scent.

“I have to be honest, I didn’t think you’d actually come” He chuckled

“Are you disappointed?” You teased and raised an eyebrow.

You see a dimple smile making its appearance, how can this dude be so incredibly hot and cute at the same time? “I think pleasantly surprised would be the right way to put it”

Why do you feel like you can not breath? He hasn’t said much, yet you feel yourself burn up all of a sudden. “Good to know” you smile back.

“Joon! You have to see this” was the first thing Taehyung yelled when you arrived to the place where the guys were sitting “12 o’clock, Hobi making out with Mina from 3rd year. Can you believe it? After two years of trying to get it, he finally succeeds”

Of course the main talk is girls. No surprise there.

“Jungkook bitch, you owe me 20 bucks” Taehyung eyed Jungkook

Your expression screamed disgust. Apparently, Namjoon noticed “They are not as bad as they seem” he elbowed you.

You give him and awkward laugh “I’ll take your word for it” You lie.

“Guys, this is Jisoo and y/n. Can you stop trying to head lock each other and say hello? You’re embarrassing me” Namjoon introduced the pair of you to the boys who were still arguing about the bet. 

“Oh, hey girls.” Taehyung paused to inspect Jisoo’s face. “Hey, business and shipping? Ain’t it?”

“Oh, yeah, right!” Jisoo smiled

“Hyung aren’t you taking that class for like the third time? How many times can you fail you recon?” Jungkook teased him and Taehyung answered by giving him a slap on the shoulder.

“Hey y/n, do you want to go grab a drink? I think you’ll need it if you are to tolerate these guys” Namjoon offered.

“I trust you know best” you smile and quickly follow behind him. His shoulders wide and his muscles very visible even through his airy shirt. This guy was a whole statue.

“By the way, I’ve never seen you at parties before. I think I saw you once at the December ball but that’s about it. Not really a big fan of these kind of things, are you?” He suddenly said. You can’t really decode his words. How did Kim Namjoon know you even went to the December ball? You’re pretty sure you didn’t even talk to him that night.

“Interested in me much?” You give him a cheeky smile but he was just looking at you, a couple of seconds passed without him responding “I’m only joking! It’s true I don’t really attend these sort sort of things.”

“And what do you do for fun miss y/n?” He laughs and you swear if you could bottle the sound and get drunk on it you would.

“Oh you’ll think I’m lame”

“Try me” he said in a serious tone while starring right through your eyes. Suddenly, your body felt too heavy for your legs to bear. How can he get to you like that?

“Okay…” You start, him looking at you like that didn’t help control your train of thought, but you manage to get a hold of yourself “So you know that little corner cafe on willow street? Every Friday they have these comedy music nights. A guy-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar, yeah! I used to go there every Friday during my freshman years! Do they still do that old thing? I swear the pun with the atom never failed to make my day.” He started laughing again.

“Whoah what? You’re telling me you’ve been to the shrieking shack?” That place was a little treasure you’d found earlier this year. It was an amazingly cozy place, perfect during the cold winter time. The staff were all so kind and wore these big oversized colorful ties. But the people going there were all much older than you. You’ve never heard someone your age talk about that place. Let alone a person like Namjoon.

“Careful how you talk to a veteran y/n. I’ve basically helped to build the place” he chuckled.

“Y/n is that you?” A familiar voice greeted you.

“Jimin! Oh my god, hey! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you!” You hug him.

Jimin was a great soul, he majored in contemporary dance and ballet. He had been traveling for the past couple of years enrolling in some extra ballet classes in the magical city of Paris. You envied him for his talent and admired him for his passion.

“Girl, you have to come visit me. You’ll love Europe!”

“I would also LOVE to have some money in my wallet” you laugh ��Oh Jimin, this is my friend, Namjoon. We go to collage together”

Namjoon gave you a look and soon after shook Jimin’s hand “What’s up. Nice to meet you”

“Nice to meet you too! But y/n, I’m so so sorry, I have to go. I was actually on my way out just now. I sort of uhm, have a thing-you know” he coughed “I’m leaving in two weeks, can we please meet before that?”

You knew Jimin was probably off to his ex boyfriends house. They broke up before Jimin left for Paris but every time he got back he’d have a couple of hookups with him. “Oh yeah! I bet you’ve got something very important right now, you better go quickly” you teased him “I’ll text you tomorrow, ok?”

Jimin laughed so much his eyes were barely visible “definitely! text me! I’ll be off then! Bye mister Kim Namjoon” he playfully said and was out of your sight a second later.

“You two seem…close” Namjoon suddenly commented

“Yeah! We were! But he has been studying abroad for like two years now.”

Namjoon’s facial expression was quite enigmatic “Did you guys ever… you know”

“Oh no no no.” You pause to make a small chuckle “Jimin isn’t exactly interested in, well, girls like me, or to be exact, girls in general”

Namjoon’s eyes widened and he immediately bursted into laughter “oh… I see” he made a pause “So tell me then, how come the old soul that never goes to parties finally attends one?”

You feel your cheeks burn red. Partly because the reason you went was him. You don’t know why, but the past month you and Namjoon hit it off very well and you wanted to test Jisoo’s crazy theory, you wanted to make sure for yourself if Namjoon was interested in you or not. Now the problem was, even if it turned out he did like you, you didn’t know what you’d do exactly. Namjoon was a really nice guy, but he didn’t come without his red flags.

“Just wanted to try something different, I guess”

“And how’s that 'different' treating you so far?”

What could you possibly tell him? That you have enjoyed every minute you guys have been talking? That you think that just by staring at you he could make you feel things no other guy could? You barely can admit all of that to yourself. “I think pleasantly surprised is the right way to put it” you repeat his words from before.

You see him smile at that. “You know what y/n? I’m really happy you came”

How can he make your heart beat so fast with just one sentence? “Oh really? And why is that?”

“I don’t know, I guess… I just like talking to you, you know? Whenever I’m around you I feel at ease, like I can tell you anything. I feel different when I’m with you, but in a good way”

“Wow” that sound escaped your lips without your consent

Namjoon laughed “Why? Is it too weird?”

“No! Definitely not weird, more like, I don’t know, surprising?”

“In what way?”

“Well you’re… Kim Namjoon, you’re the 2021 class president and you’re like the most popular guy in the whole campus right now.” You made a pause “And I’m just..-“

“The most interesting girl I’ve ever met” he cuts you off

The way he was looking down at you made butterflies grow in your stomach “You really think so?”

He gently grabbed your waist and pulled you closer to him “I know so” he leaned down, you swear his eyes had the whole galaxy painted inside of them. You couldn’t even breath properly at this point. Kim Namjoon was too close and the only thing you were thinking about was how well his kiss would feel “God, you’re so beautiful” he said and pulled you in for a soft, gentle kiss.

You couldn’t believe your senses. Kim Namjoon was kissing you and you really thought the earth had stopped spinning right then and there. You could feel his big palms traveling up and down your back.

His kiss was breathless, jubilant, filled with the joy of life, and you should stop him, he is no good to you, you know that, but his scent is delightful and his lips are so warm.

Unconsciously, your hands reach the inside of his shirt. His skin hot and soft at the touch.

"y/n" he practically moans your name, and just the sound makes your knees go week "Don't do that, I don't think I'll be able to stop"

"Who said anything about stopping?" You say and go back to kiss him even more passionately this time.

“There’s a lot of people here, my room is upstairs, would you perhaps want to-“

“Yes.” You immediately say. You don’t care about anything anymore, you’d let your future self deal with the consequences of today’s actions. The only thing that has been lingering in your mind is how good he’d feel inside of you.

The moment you’re finally alone in his room, he lifts you up, swinging you around and kissing you. It was like a dream. Namjoon was everything you wanted. Your reluctance about getting with him didn’t matter any more, the tingly feeling in your stomach overtook every single bit of hesitation you had. You needed him.

“God, you’re lovely” he exhaled

He looks at you as he sinks you down on the bed. Planting a soft kiss before his hands quickly begun to peel away clothes, yanking his belt loose, fumbling hurriedly at his trousers.

You look at his lips tracing your skin and the faint moisture left behind, you look at his muscly arms as he lifts you up and sinks you down again, you look at him looking at you, with eyes brighter than the sun itself. Was this all a dream?

When your dress was finally off he undoes your bra clasp on the way down. Slowly planting kisses on your collarbone, the tops of your breasts, your sternum, and you arched you back as you were needy for more.

His lips finally reach your nipples .Your boobs smooth under his hands, your nipple firm under his tongue, and there, that makes you squirm again, a little more insistently this time.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking wet right now, I feel it” You moan

You see him raise an eyebrow. A vivid smirk painted on his face “Let’s check, shall we?”

He splays his hand low across your belly, and the first brush of his thumb over your clit makes you breathe in sharply and him forget to breathe at all.

“I’m your friend?” He breaths in, his voice dangerously low

“Oh come on” You manage to say in between moans “what was I supposed to tell Jimin?”

His strokes and flicks are light and teasing, his thumb carefully circling around your clit. He gives you a slow, constant, unyielding pressure that makes your breath come up short, makes your toes curl in the effort not to move.

“I’m gonna fuck the word ‘friend’ right out of your pretty little mouth” he covers your mouth with an intense kiss before slipping two fingers of his free hand inside of you, and you makes a noise like triumph and want all wrapped up together. If his fingers felt like this, you can’t imagine how his dick felt like.

“Hmm?” He doesn’t look up, he keeps his eyes on his hands, on you, spread out beneath him “You like that baby?”

God, just the way the word 'baby' sounded coming from his mouth could make you come right this second. You look at him, his eyes look as hungry as his voice sounded. This dude was out of this world.

“Please Namjoon, I want it, I want you inside of me right now”

Namjoon lowered his underwear, and simply pressed his hard member on your slit. You could feel his balls softly caressing your clit as he made subtle movements while kissing you. “Such a needy little thing” he teases “Tell me how bad you want my cock inside of you”

“Oh..” you moan “I’d do anything, please…give it to me… fuck me like you own me” you whined as you used your pussy to caress his length up and down. He seemed to enjoy they way you touched him.

“Fuck y/n… that feels so good” he rests his forehead on yours.

“Imagine what my inside will feel then” you whisper in his ear “I’m such a tight good girl” you move your mouth in front of his, bitting his bottom lip as he growled when he felt your movement grow faster

“Fucking hell” he immobilized your body with his hands and pressed you down to the bed. He immediately shoves his dick inside you, filing you up to the brim before staying there for a couple of seconds and then pulling out completely. That movement made your vagina crave to be filled all the way up again.

“More” you whine, a dopey expression all over your face. You were so needy of him, but you didn’t care.

He lowered his left hand towards your thigh and gave it a big squeeze, kissing you aggressively while doing so. He quickly braced himself back into you, you felt your walls completely wrap around his member. It felt magical.

His strokes long and steady in the beginning. Every time he went in and out completely you felt the pit of your stomach burn in pleasure. Namjoon was doing everything right, you can’t lie to yourself, this is the best sex you’ve ever had. Normally with other guys you don’t even come close to coming, but now, you feel yourself trying not to do so.

“You like my dick being inside of you baby?” He plants a small kiss on your neck and goosebumps run down your spine.

‘Like’ was nowhere near good enough of a word to explain how much the sensation of him thrusting his hard member in and out of you made you feel. “I love it Namjoon… I just love it…”

Your words must’ve turned Namjoon even more on, because his pace immediately started becoming faster and sloppier. Every time your skin touched a loud sound could be heard. Namjoon was thrusting deeper and deeper into you, and every time he’d fill you up completely you’d cry out his name.

“Ah, I like my name so much better when you fucking moan it like that” he says and started shoving his dick inside of you like crazy. You could tell he was close to coming, and so were you.

It wasn’t long until you felt your walls clenching and your toes curling. The sensation overtook all of your body, it was mad… your heart beat uncontrollable. Namjoon made you feel a completely new range of emotions.

“Ah y/n, I can feel you cumming all over my dick” his voice cracky, You could see how turned on he was by all of this, by you. “Fuck” he shoved harder “You’re so” harder “fucking hot”

Namjoon stopped and pulled out immediately spreading his cum all over your tummy. The sight was breathtaking, you’ve never found a man so attractive while coming before, but then, Namjoon is no ordinary man.

He quickly grabs a couple of tissues and wipes you clean before laying on top of you again, placing another soft kiss this time. His hand playing with your hair. You were both naked and sweaty and a mess but it felt so magical. You wrapped your hands around his broad shoulders, pulling him even closer to you. You didn’t want even a centimeter of distance between you and him.

He suddenly stopped kissing you and simply stared at your eyes. After a minute or two, or maybe three, you're not really sure, time didn't exist right now, he tacked a string of hair behind your left ear.

“Y/n, let me take you on a date. Please. I know you don’t normally go out with guys like me, but I swear I’ll make it worth your while-“

“Park Jihoon and the little funny guitar. How does that sound? Or are you too good for the shrieking shack now?” You chuckled

“I’d love that” he smiled, making your heart melt a little.

#bts reactions #namjoon reaction #namjoon fanfic #bts fan fiction #bts fanfiction #bts fan fic #namjoon imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #bts college au #bts smut #bts fluff #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon fic

[peralta-guaranteed]

Wishing I could read something about Peraltiago talking about how they feel on all Teddy's proposals to Amy. They are really akward, uncomfortable moments and Teddy really crosses the limits every single time, and wish we knew more on their takes about it. Once I read a fic about Jake sending Rosa to stop Teddy and take care of Amy but it just not the same.

lol I have a fic on that topic exactly - I have a proposal for you - where I had the cathartic experience of writing about Rosa breaking Teddy’s hand for being so awful, but I agree with you, Teddy reappearing in the show is so uncomfortable each time ugggh. I thought the wedding one was the worst but then he shows up literally fathering a child with someone else and still does it, disgusting.

So maybe take this as taking place before that fic of mine, where Jake does mention how bad Teddy's proposals make them feel!

Jake can tell, just from the simple drop of her purse in the hallway, that it wasn't a good day.

Weird, how it's these tiny things that he's learned to read instantly - or maybe not, given that he's a detective trained to focus on details others would overlook, and being unable to stop the habit when it comes to the most important people in his life.

She tries to be all smiles when she comes into the living room, though, where Mac is happily rolling around in his playpen while Jake is folding laundry on the couch, the very picture of domesticity as she leans over the pen to kiss their squealing, giggling little baby. The view of her in one of her old pantsuits instead of her Sergeant's uniform is already making his hearts do little leaps even before she makes her way over to Jake for their customary Welcome Home kiss.

"How was that inter-department meeting today?" He asks as she shrugs off the suit jacket and continues her pace into the kitchen, setting aside a set of Mac's bibs that can't be folded anyway.

"Okay." She replies, and that's enough to make him abandon the laundry alltogether and follow her (one eye on Mac, of course, but he's not even crawling yet, and couldn't roll himself into any danger on his foam-based playmat - probably). It's rare that she doesn't have at least one inspiring, 'interesting' or just generally informative story to share from her meetings, the only person in probably all departments looking forward to them.

She's staring into the fridge when he reaches the room and leans against the counter, trying to gauge her level of upset. From the raised shoulders and the fact that she doesn't need to check the fridge to know they were going to order Chinese tonight, he guesses it's at a solid 8, at least.

"Teddy was there." She mumbles into the cold, bright space in front of her, and Jake's shoulders tense up just as much as hers even as he tries to sound as chill as possible.

"How is he?"

"Still extremely boring." Then, after a pause. "Still hung up on me."

So much for chill.

"Did he propose again?"

She nods and sighs, her shoulders dropping as she closes the fridge, but doesn't turn toward him.

"I don't know what's wrong with him." She says through gritted teeth, suddenly. "He has a child with someone. He has a wife. How can he look at them and turn around and-"

Mac's little happy cooing from the living room interrupts her, as do Jake's arms as they wind around her middle, his chin dipping into the space between her shoulder and her neck.

"That's probably a question only a therapist could answer, babe."

Amy sighs as she leans back, falls into the warmth and support of her own husband, the father of her child that she can hear happily babbling to himself from a room over, and wonders some more how Teddy could ever think he would be a better option for her.

"He wasn't like this when we were dating." She muses, and feels Jake's kiss against her jaw - a reflex action she's noticed whenever she mentions a past partner or anything, frankly, that reminds him that there was a point where he wasn't Jake Peralta-Santiago yet. But she kind of needs to finish this thought, and she knows he can handle it. "He was nice and kind and he wouldn't- he wasn't manipulative, pulling something like that in public, or deluded enough to think he was in the right for it. I mean, he thought he was pretty great, but he wouldn't have -"

"You musta broken something pretty major in his brain when you left him." Jake's voice is joking, luckily, but she can sense a hint of something more. "The absolute devastation of a Santiago break-up speech, rehearsed or not."

"Harsh, Jake."

"Remember manbun musician? He went downright insane after your split - not that he was probably the sanest person around before that, but-"

"You promised we'd never mention him again."

"I'm just saying. I don't think any man left by you is going to be completely right in the head after that."

"You're making me sound like some black widow monster." She smiles, though, hearing the awe and affection in his voice bleed through.

"I'm not judging those guys, anyway." He continues, and that tinge of something else in his words is back. "I mean, I can't imagine what I'd be like if you ever decided to take Teddy up on one of his proposals."

She straightens up from her lean on his chest, twists in his arms without breaking the hug, and stares right into him as she studies his face - his actually slightly scared face.

"Jake, you know that's not ever-"

"I was joking babe."

"No. Jake. That's not even an option. Not even an idea. Never. Not in a million years. Not if-"

She grabs his shirt where it's unbuttoned, right next to his heart, and his hand reaches up to squeeze hers like it always does, thumb swiping along her rings.

"I know, Ames." The soft kiss that follows calms her just as much. "I cashed out that jackpot and I'm not giving it back."

She hums as she kisses him again, leans her forehead against his for a deep breath.

"It's just... sad." She returns to her original train of thought. "That he can't move on despite his life doing so. I mean, it's been years. He's got a new job and a new partner and a new baby, and he's willing to, what, dump all that? For me? For that idolised image he probably has in his mind of me now, because nothing between us has been real since ages ago?"

"Wow, this is really bugging you."

"Yes! He's barging into my life and thinking he knows what's best for me and that it's him, like I'm some love-struck silly dreamgirl who's going to drop her entire world because he's romantic enough to go down on one knee in front of our colleagues and superiors who have no idea what's going on-!"

Mac's noises from the next room turn from content to disagreeing, growing into what is sure to be a cry any minute now, and it's the only thing that can make them break apart from their hug. He calms down immediately when Amy lifts him out of his pen, and holds him close while she settles on the sofa next to the half-done laundry basket, snuffling against her chest in a very obvious I’m hungry mom couldn’t you tell?! move before she can even unbutton her dress shirt.

He latches on immediately when her shirt is open and her bra pulled down - not a nursing bra today, considering she got ready for an important work meeting - while she feels Jake rearrange the pillows behind her and to her side to get her comfortable, without a second of hesitation or having to think about it. He moves on to pick up the jacket she's dropped onto a dining room chair, drapes it on a hanger in the hallway, and she feels the soft prick of tears in her eyes before he settles down again next to the two of them with a glass of water for her set on the coffee table.

Jake only hums as he notices the shine in her eyes too, and wipes across her cheek. He knows that nursing can get her into a pretty emotional state sometimes, but this is probably a bit more than that.

"I love you." She says, and barely waits for his return of I love you too to continue. "I can't believe Teddy expects me to look at Mac, and look at you, and still think he could ever be a better offer for anything I want."

"Aw, babe." He grins softly in return while playing with Mac's foot that is kicking in his direction, covered in the fuzziest green socks with red apples on them. "You scored a pretty dope 2-for-1 deal with us, I admit."

“Before that, too.” She insists, leaning to unlatch Mac and hand him over to Jake to burp as they always do while she buttons back up, thinking about Teddy’s many proposals before Mac was even planned on. “Jake, you know that, right? You alone were the best deal first and foremost.”

He smiles at her, Mac’s soft little curls right next to his cheek as he sways and pats his back, but it doesn’t fully reach his eyes.

“Jake-”

“You were happy with him.” He says, quietly, while Mac lets out his usual milky burp and smiles at him much wider when he wipes him clean with the linen cloth pulled from his shoulder. “I know it’s in the past and I - I’m not jealous or anything that stupid, but. Like you said... He wasn’t like this back then, and you were happy.”

His eyes seem forlorn, even as he smiles at the now sleepy baby in his lap that looks so much like him it always makes her heart twinge, that little bundle of joy with Amy’s dark hair and skin that seems to know the Cuban sun without ever having been there.

“And I know it’s not - and it doesn’t make sense to think about, but - sometimes his stupid proposals made me wonder what would’ve happened if he’d done that while he still made you happy.” His voice turns low, and it’s probably not just to avoid waking Mac back up as he falls asleep. “And that just makes me think about how I had to watch you be happy with him, and that’s not - that’s never a good memory to revisit, honestly-”

“I wouldn’t have said yes.” She leans over into his field of vision, the most serious look on her face. “Even back then, I wouldn’t have said yes to his proposal.”

Jake’s eyebrows scrunch up in question, his eyes turning into those puppy dog eyes that she knows as a direct hit to her heart when he’s actually sad or worried, and she can’t not hold his face in her hands again.

“Yes, I was happy with Teddy for a while, but looking back at it I realise I was- there was always this feeling of waiting for something. Hoping for something to be different.” She kisses him, careful and short and barely there, but enough to make him close his eyes and lean towards her a bit more. “And maybe back then I thought I was waiting for him to change somehow, but really I was only waiting for him to change into you.”

“Teddy couldn’t change into me if he had major brain surgery.” Jake scoffs, and Amy huffs a laugh with him.

“Yeah. And that’s why he’d never been right for me. That’s only ever been you.”

He finally, properly smiles now, eyes open again and set on her with a soft shine to them before he leans over more, as much as he can without waking the deeply asleep baby in his lap.

“I’m glad you figured that out when you did, in the end.” He quips and earns himself a shy nod. “And said yes when it came to the only good proposal you got.”

She snickers at that, thinking about the gaudy but wonderful boxing belt in her mementos box, and leans in the last few inches she needs to kiss him again, neither careful nor short this time, but equally as soft. 

“And the next time I catch Teddy trying to propose to you again I’m going to punch him out before he can even get down on one knee.”

“You are not assaulting a fellow officer.”

“Kick in the balls?”

“How very mature, Mister-I-have-an-actual-child-now.”

“Can I at least tell him where he can stick his ridiculous ideas of marrying you at any point in the future, no matter the circumstances?”

She hums for a second.

“You can. If you add in how ridiculous the idea was in the past as well.”

“Oh now, that’s a good deal.”

#B99 #Brooklyn 99 #Peraltiago #Jake Peralta #Amy Santiago #my writing #ficlet #fic

[mxvladdy]

heyy i just read your fic Case of the Munchies on ao3 and im Loving it!!!! its amazing!! i was wonder if youre accepting requests and if you haven’t done it could you write the same for the rest: mammon, levi, satan, belphi, dia, barbatos and smth for simeon and luke (ofc platonic) like how angles have a true form and that means they can never relax around mc and how solomon has so much power at his fingertips he can just snap and end them or smth like that? pretty please and thank you!!!!

A/N: Of Course! Of Course! I already did Mammon and Levi HERE so I’ll do the other four in this request! You sent me a lot of good ideas and I’ll sprinkle them out into other requests soon!

Hope you like it!!

Case of the Munchies prt 3!

Word Count: 4.2k

Characters: Satan, Belphie, Diavolo, Barbatos

TW: Mentions of eating and cook humans, very mild gore

Satan

As the only full-blooded demon of the seven, he has thought about it...just hypothetically of course. When you were new to the Devildom he did find your scent more appetizing than the others. It’s a good thing he has the most restraint and control of all his kin, especially when it comes to his more base urges.

He doesn’t hide this knowledge from you. It’s readily available in the library and his own room in the history books. He just won’t bring it up. So if you don’t say anything, he won’t either. What would he say anyway? “Yes, I’ve thought about it, up until it was outlawed it was a staple of our diet after all…” Ye, probably not the best thing to say.

When you finally brought it up he was exasperated. Did you have to bring it up during the few hours he had alone with himself? He wasn’t going to lie but the thought of hurting your feelings would just about do him in.

He will alleviate your worries if you have any. If Satan was anything, he was genuine.

Mini Fic

His wine curdles in his stomach, turning sour along with the take-out he had nabbed for the two of you to enjoy tonight. Drinks and dinner were becoming a staple in your T.V. night tradition. If one of you had had a rough day you would drop by your favorite shop of the hour and pick up a meal to share while you vent.

Today in particular had been a shit day for him. Failed experiment after failed experiment, and one bottle that didn’t explode on impact with the potion he dropped. Sigh. At least your comforting words soothed his wounded pride a little. You chuckle at his escapades glad to see he is not hurt at least. It was nice to have someone to see the humor in something that normally would have dampened his mood.

“You’re a pest.” He laughs at you while snapping his takeout chopsticks in half to use. “I need sympathy-hours of work wasted.” You snort into your own bowl of udon.

“You need words of praise like Beel needs another stomach.” Satan gasps in mock insult pointing a sauce stained chopstick at you.

“How dare you insult your host! After I toiled over this meal of-” What did he get exactly? Honestly, when he placed the order he was near boiling with rage at his careless fumble. It was to be a surprise for you, something to give you a bit of magic while supervised by himself. He knew how frustrated you were with your lack of magical ability in class so he wanted to gift you something grand. Now he has to wait months to try again.

Ah, well...nothing ventured nothing gained as they say.

You watch him sulk over his soup dumplings, his mile away from the comfort of your company and his room. “Come on blondie.” You poke him with your foot before burying them under his pajama-clad thighs on the couch. “Eat your ‘hard earned’ meal before I do.” You snatch up his D.D.D forgetting your own food for a moment to set up your favorite streaming service to cast to his small T.V. “Want to watch a bunch of humans fail miserably at baking?”

"I thought you would never ask."

Satan feels you stiffen in his arms two hours into your bake-off marathon. Your takeout boxes are cold and forgotten on his coffee table, a bottle of wine gone between the two of you. He glances down at you curious.

You were transfixed on the screen. The novice baker on screen was struggling to keep his monstrosity of a cake upright. It was the annual Halloween episode and this fool went for a Silence of the Lambs inspired cake. A good concept really, but very poorly executed. The fake body parts and sugar blood weighted the pastry down dangerously. If he were, to be frank, the cake was also tacky as hell. Heh, he'd have to try to make this for Lucifer.

"Does his abuse of the piping gun offend you that much?" He jokes wrapping an arm around you.

Your laugh is breathy and lacks its usual warmth. "It is excessive isn't it?" You look up at him. "Hey, Satan-have you ever eaten people before?"

"Uhh…" Great, how eloquent. This came out of nowhere, did Lucifer set you up to this? No-no you wouldn’t. Would you hate him if you knew? “I have.” He admits through clenched teeth waiting for your reaction.

“Didn’t Diavolo ban it?” He can tell you are doing the mental math in your head.

He chuckles dryly. “Well, you never asked if I did it legally.” You move away from his touch and pause the show. “I mean...I did it legally! ” His mouth runs freely, his brain screaming at him to shut up.

“Satan.” You cross your arms unimpressed.

“It was a new law and I never meant to eat it for the most part. It was at a time where I was still struggling to control myself.” Young and stupid as Lucifer had said defending him every step of the way when he would slip up. Was it sold on the black market now? Yes. Did he know how to get it? Sure, but he would never nor would he tell you about it either.

You nod thinking about his words. “I can empathize.” Oh, thank the Devil. “Have you thought of eating me?”Ahhh. “Oh my God, you have.” You chuck a pillow at him with a laugh.

He catches the pillow and clutches it to his fiery hot face. “Everyone did at first!” If he was going down then he was going to take every one of his brothers down with him. “I wasn’t going to act on it! It was a spur of the moment-why are you laughing!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You wipe at the tears in your eyes wishing you had your phone to take a picture of his blushing face. “I kind of figured you did.”

Satan looks at you incredulously. “Shouldn’t you be a bit more torn up over this?”

You shrug. “After everything we’ve been through? I admit it was a shock to think at first but I mean, you would have done it by now right?”

“Well, thank you?” He flops back on the couch, still clutching the pillow to act as a barrier between you two. He’ll take it as a compliment.

You scoot close, nudging his knee with yours. “You ok?” He nods. “Can I touch you?” He nods again eagerly. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and squeeze. “Sorry, I made you uncomfortable.”

Satan chuckled, dropping the pillow to hug you back. “It’s ok.” He peaks your forehead. “Now, with that out of the way. Shall we finish this?” He swipes up his phone to hit play. You nod, flinging your legs over him to snuggle closer. “Good, I’m dying to know how he tries to save that thing. I’m putting money on icing.”

“You know.” You break the silence once more, unable to stop yourself. “I wouldn’t be opposed to being eaten...in some ways.”

Belphegor

After your first *ahem* encounter, he doesn’t bring up the whole food thing. He is afraid that if you learned about it, it would be the last strike for you and his relationship. Perhaps it’s paranoia on his part but better safe than sorry.

In all honesty, he didn’t eat it that much anyway. Killing humans was something he did often in his youth as a demon. A stupid attempt at revenge on his part. It filled the holes in his hearts to hurt those he believed killed his sister.

But to eat their flesh? Disgusting. He tried it a few times and it turned his stomach with every mouthful. He just hated them too much to even stomach them. He’s mellowed out with time but still never got a taste for it.

When you asked it was a shock but welcomed in a way. Like he could finally get this weight off his shoulders every time he looked at you.

Mini Fic

“It’s gross.” Belphie yawns, jumping up to sit on the high garden wall. He bends down to help you up placing you gently next to himself. The wind catches you by surprise threatening to topple you back from the wall before he rights you. He tosses his sweater over you with a nod of satisfaction.

You snuggle into the fleece lining burying your nose into the fabric. It smelled of elderberries and honeysuckles. Belphie watches you curl up into his side with a fond smile. “Seriously, you all are nasty.”

“Ouch!” You push his shoulder with a grin. “I feel like I should be offended on behalf of all humans.”

Belphie snorts, looking up into the bright colors of the night sky. “Good. Be offended. You, humans, are slimy.” You squawk indignantly. “It’s true, never in all my years would I willingly ingest it.” He shudders theatrically.

“Rude.”

“Shouldn’t you be happy? Lest I eat you?” He growls playfully, taking a swipe at you. He pulls you close to kiss the pout off your face. He stops only when your face is hot and your smile threatens to pull a muscle. “I’ll keep you safe, always.” He vows resting his chin on your head.

“Do you think other demons would try to eat me?”

“Have you met my twin?” He teases. He takes your jab to his ribs with a smile. “But if one of those lesser demons even tries to breathe in your direction I’ll kill them.”

“Ok, Mister sleeps till dinner.” You joke. His vow warms your heart a little, chasing away the small bit of fear that had rested itself in your chest. You saw how some demons looked at you at R.A.D, the longing and hungry looks got to be a bit much sometimes. A few older demons would discuss it loudly when they knew you were close by. Apparently, it was a long standing tradition of demons eating humans both body and soul when a pact was concluded.

Imagine what those brothers would do to them…

You shake your head hugging Belphie closer. You had nothing but his word that he would keep you safe, yet that was enough for you. Besides, he wasn’t one to follow the rules even at the best of times.

“I’m serious. You're off limits for everyone.”

You nod into his shirt, closing your eyes to enjoy the peace of the moment. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Diavolo

It is so far from his mind that when you say something it is like a rug was taken out from under him. He could be diplomatic about it, but you deserve better than a half-truth.

He was a wild child in his youth. Sometimes he would overindulge in his father’s heritage and gorge himself on his newfound powers and privilege. He would dine with the elders and eat with abandon under their proud eyes.

He regrets it now, in your company it brings up a slurry of emotions. Sometimes when he looks at you he sees flashes of his past behavior.

The urge is stronger in him than the brothers, a constant nagging tug in his guts, but he is strong. Stronger both in willpower and sheer physical prowess than them so the pull is more of an annoyance than a burning need. He can temper the hunger in other ways if need be *wink*

He fears what you might think of him if you ever found out the truth, but however you take it he will handle it in stride. He loves you too much not to.

Mini Fic

Dinners, when Diavolo could eat alone, were a rare and special treat. The solace of just being allowed to exist without constantly checking his posture or presentation was a blessing, just him, his thoughts, and a good meal. It was nice to have no paperwork to worry about staining this time or a tedious meeting where he couldn’t savor his meal. No, no this was good. He looks down at his heavily laden plate and smiles. Well, almost… Pulling out his phone he snaps a quick picture and sends it to you with a simple question. Join me?

Private meals were wonderful, but with you, they were perfect.

You arrive faster than he expected, flushed face and clutching a stitch in your side from rushing over. He almost felt bad before he saw the eager look in your eyes. Barbatos helps you with your school bags and coat before placing another plate of food across from the young lord. He winks at the prince before disappearing back through the door.

“Thank you for the invite!” You beam taking your seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind that I'm not dressed for the occasion. I was just wrapping up a study session with the boys.” You look down at your rumpled lounge clothes.

Diavolo waved his hand disregarding your concerns. “I would emulate you if I had the time.” He looks at his own pressed school uniform. He had another meeting this evening, much to his distaste. “You look rather comfortable.” You smile in delight before tucking into your own plate.

You eat in a comfortable silence reading the room well enough to tell that he wished for some company but not needless chitter-chatter. Barbatos arrived moments after you put your fork down and left with the plate leaving behind a delicious smelling hot drink. You couldn’t put your finger on the flavor but it tastes spicy like cinnamon and coats your throat like warm honey.

Whatever was in the drink seemed to work some magic on the prince. His shoulder droop, his back sinking into the chair as his legs stretch out till they are close to brushing against yours. He starts talking over the drink, eyes slowly lighting up with delight. You drink, nodding along with him as he builds up steam. It was nice to see him so unguarded and light. You listen to him talk about simple innocent topics. You knew how he tried to have these conversations with the others to no avail. The brother’s always tried to stay clear of him, and Lucifer simply dismissed these things most days. Barbatos and the angels were a bit better but still listened mostly to placate him.

“Ah!” Diavolo stops mid-sentence as his door opens once more Barbatos holding a small platter in his gloved hand. Dia claps his hands in delight. “I’ve been wanting to have you try this with me for forever. The human palate is so different, but I hope this is tasty.”

“What is it?” You eye the covered plate curiously.

Dia says a word in infernal. It is harsh and guttural in his throat but his delight was evident in his tone. “It is like...a roasted nut? Sorry, it is difficult to explain but it has been a favorite treat of mine since I was a boy. I hope you like it too.” He opens the lid with little ceremony and tilts the bowl to you. Inside were several golfball sized pods piled on top of each other. Even from across the table you could feel the molten heat radiating from the porous black shell. It looked...ugly. Like a hunk of dried lava. You eye it suspiciously as Diavolo picks one up with his bare hands and bits it. The shell cracks under his sharp teeth, a fang catching in a weak spot with a noise that makes you shiver. Underneath the thick casing, you could see a dark red and fleshy core. He hums in delight pulling put the meat of the seed and discard the shell pieces onto an empty plate. He makes quick work of the innards already reaching for another by the time you casually pick up a seed.

The seed itself was dense and warm to the touch. You squeeze it, noting that the porous coating felt like a mass of steel in your hand. “Dia-how do I open it?” No way you could bite it, not without breaking your jaw in the process.

“Allow me.” He takes it from you and effortlessly cracks it. “It is a tradition to break them with teeth, instead of hands or utensils. Something about a show of strength. I just find it fun.” He shrugs, handing you the broken seed.

“Fun!” You marvel at his pearly fangs. “Those are some big chompers.”

“All the better to eat you with my dear.” He chuckles.

You blink in shock, eyes widening. “Would you? Eat me?”

Diavolo’s smile drops. “No.” He lies on reflex, his political nature kicking in. “No-no wait.” He shakes his head. “I...at a time would have without hesitation.” He feels you recoil. “It was common practice back in the day. To the common demon it was a great meal and for the ruling class a show. He looks down at the broken fragments of shell on his plate. Breaking the shell was far too reminiscent of other things. He squashes the unwanted wave of memories coming up. Instead, he looks up at you.

You sit quietly mulling over his words. You haven’t run yet. “Why did you stop?”

He leans back with a loud exhale. Why did he stop? There were many reasons, none he wished to divulge into at the moment, but he had to say something. “I grew up, and began to resent and regret it.” He used to read human stories of demons and his kind. They hurt their characterizations of him and his people. Yet, they had all been scarily accurate. He wanted to prove that they weren’t stagnating beasts, slaves to their desires. Even if it wasn't a popular opinion.

“I see.” You pick up the seed again. “Thank you for telling me. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to, and to apologize… such admissions must have ruined your appetite. If you wish to retire-”

“Is it weird if it didn’t?” You cut him off. You felt-not apathetic to the knowledge but close to it. It confirmed a lot of things for you and put certain things in perspective. You still felt safe with him even with this new bit of knowledge. Without a second thought, you pop the treat into your mouth. You gasp in delight. The flavor and texture were not what you were expecting, but was delicious all the same. “Can you open another for me?” You push your plate over to him.

“Of course!”

The food was as wonderful as his company.

Barbatos

You knew he cooked it. He probably knows a million different ways to prepare a human. He is also very blunt about his dabblings in the market.

He doesn’t eat it, hasn’t ever. He sees no reason to, especially since he doesn’t need to eat anyway there is no temptation. He did find the meals he created beautiful though.

Once he lived for the praises of the courts and his young lord. He was a master at all mediums he cared to work with. Time, decorum, or of the flesh.

He is 100% unashamed of his past with the dark side of the Devildom’s history. In fact, he is damn near proud of it. He is a demon and it was a part of his life, if that frightens you, well there is nothing he can do about it.

He’ll entertain your questions and will try to put any lingering worries at ease. Just don’t expect to be coddled when he does.

Mini Fic

Barbatos had very few personal pleasures in his life. His schedule simply didn’t have the space for such things. So why even bother looking for a pastime. It wasn’t until Diavolo gifted him with an old worn cookbook did he find it.

Cooking was a necessity for his prince, but with that little book, it became something he looked forward to doing. Slowly, he began to seek them out, filling his growing quarters with cookbooks and loose-leaf slips of paper. He enjoys reading them. Each book was a little time capsule into the cook's life and memories. Could a mix of spices really remind someone of the arid heat of their motherland? Or does following a certain way of aging meat really honor the writer's late grandfather’s memory? He tries them all, each recipe a little invasion to a happier time.

He wrote his fair share of cookbooks too in his day. Simple modifications to things the young lord liked to the odd machinations of his own imagination. He got good at experimenting with flavors and textures over the years, mastering certain cooking techniques and flavors just for fun. He didn’t share many of them, a lot of his recipes were just too complicated for most. Luke was allowed to look at his pastry books only. The little cherub was enamored with his techniques and wanted to learn as much as he could in the short amount of time he was in the Devildom. Admirable, but he made sure to keep some of his...less savory books away from the boy. He shudders to think what Simeon would do if he scarred the young angel.

You are the only one who has full access to his collections. Whether you liked to cook was inconsequential to him. He simply enjoyed sharing this interest with you. Some nights you would take it upon yourself to be his “sous-chef”. Which meant you sat in the corner of the kitchen and read out the ingredients and steps for a recipe he knew by heart. Sometimes you would add in extra steps in an attempt to stump it. Cute...but ultimately failed each time. So, most nights when you tagged along to the kitchens you just flip through his collection, reading his immaculate scribblings crammed into the corners of the pages or where he scratched out certain ingredients for more demon-appropriate foods and more sustainable options.

You had gone through many beautiful books before you found it. The cookbook was small and inconspicuous compared to most. Just a simple black cover with a well-worn spine. What made you take notice of it was just how dusty it was. That wasn’t like him to do. Barbatos would never let something get so dirty. You wished you never had opened it. You weren’t stupid by any means, but after reading a few pretty graphic recipes it had unsettled you. So you withdrew from Barbatos trying to forget about the book tucked away deep in the bowels of your school bag.

“You’ve been distant.” You choke, hand flying up to your chest as you swear your heart skipped a beat. Damn demon. Should put a bell on him. “What’s wrong?” His eyes are piercing, cutting away at your feeble defenses.

“Nothing…” You fiddle with your bag’s strap. Your eyes drop to the floor taking in the differences between his polished shoes and your scuffed boots.

“Of course not…” You could hear the skepticism in his voice. “I trust that if there was something wrong you would feel safe enough to confide in me.” His words hit like a ton of bricks on your shoulders. He sighs seeing that his words got no reaction. “Please?”

Wordlessly you rummage in your bag and thrust the book into his chest. “Sorry. It shook me up more than I thought it would.”

Ah. He knew this book all too well. For a time it had been his favorite, one to pull out with Diavolo had guests or a deal that needed to be sealed. He accepts the book, noting how much your hands shook. “I understand.” He slips the book into his breast pocket making a mental note to hide it in one of his lesser used rooms. “Would you like to discuss this? In my room perhaps?” You follow with a timid nod.

“Where shall we begin?” Barbatos asks the moment he closes the door to his room.

“You don’t seem perturbed.” You frown. Barbatos shrugs, pulling the book out and opening it. He had a lot of good memories stored here. Some of these were still considered signature dishes, oftentimes a visiting dignitary would lament to him about the good old days when he could show off his craft when flesh was plentiful. He takes pride in that still to this day even. For as much as he loved you, he would not be ashamed of this.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head when he says as much. “It just confused me. Do-do you see me as food?”

“I never saw humans as food, no more than I see demons or angels as it.” He picks at an imaginary bit of lent from his pant leg. “As for seeing you as food no. No matter how sweet your lips are, or how honeyed your words can be.” He smiles, taking impish delight in your squirming. “I merely did my job as a butler for my lord.”

“Oh- sorry for not coming to you sooner.” You felt foolish now. Barbatos waves it off, pleased to have this issue put aside so quickly and cleanly. “Wait-" You gasp as his words finally sink in. “Have you prepared angels before?”

He flashes you a mischievous smile putting a single finger up to his lips. “Perhaps~ do you wish to read that too?”

#obey me #om satan #om belphegor #om diavolo #om barbatos #fun request!

[illfoandillfie]

Pet Names, Double Dates and Other Fiascos

READ PLATONICALLY

Request:  SECOND ARO FIC OH MY GOD !!!! maybe them getting a lil dirty and ben really does a number on reader, so he takes her to mcdonalds or sumn and the waiter says something along the lines of “you’re such a cute couple!” and reader gets really uncomfortable with it maybe??? and ben being taking her home and cuddling her PLATONICALLY and he’s like “it’s ok we don’t need to let anyone else’s opinions affect us”

Pairing: Aromantic!Fem!Reader x Ben Hardy

Summary:  It's (nearly) all fun and games until someone assumes your relationship is romantic.

Warnings: Smut, kitchen sex, floor sex, oral sex (f receiving), a mild hint at choking, vaguely dom!Ben but not intentionally lmao, discussions of aromanticism and queerplatonic relationships, not as dialogue heavy as the first part though. 

Words: 7, 264

A/N: Happy Arospec Awareness Week!! Big thanks to the anon who sent in that request when I asked for ideas for future chapters. I put a little bit of a twist on your idea but it’s fundamentally the same. Also the last scene is one that I’ve been thinking about for literal months now and I finally managed to fit it into a fic! 

As always, if you’re curious about anything to do with aromanticism I am very happy to talk about it and answer questions! 

Taglist:  @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @scorpiogemini

The day had started off well. You woke with Ben tucked up under your arm, his legs curled up towards his chest since you’d stole the covers as you’d slept. Your face was pressed against the back of his neck and you felt him shift as you sighed sleepily and tried to keep from waking. Squeezing your eyes shut and pretending you hadn’t stirred must have worked because the next thing you knew was waking up to an empty bed and tinkly tapping sounds from somewhere else in the apartment. Groggily you shuffled out from the inviting comfort of the mattress, stretched, and pulled down the hem of the shirt you’d slept in to better cover your otherwise bare thighs before following the noises. You found Ben, still in his pyjamas (well, his boxer briefs) in the kitchen, dropping a couple of toasted waffles onto a plate, humming to himself.

“That for me?” you asked, stifling a yawn. “It can be,” he said, passing the plate to you with a quick kiss on your cheek, “There’s some cut up fruit and the maple syrup out on the coffee table and there’s coffee brewing over there,” “Thanks Benny,” “You’re welcome, Puddin’,” “Puddin’?” “I thought it was cute,” “Very cute.” You laughed as you reached for your coffee, unable to help but smile as you left the room. The first few months of your partnership had taken some adjusting and one thing Ben had decided he would do to make you both feel more at home with the dynamic was to come up with some non-romantic based terms of endearment for you. You’d vetoed things like baby and honey straight away, all of them a little too heavily skewed towards romance, or just reminders of past relationships you’d tried to force yourself into, for you to enjoy them. But, as Ben had said, he liked a good pet name, and he’d seemingly been determined to prove as much, constantly coming up with new things to call you. You, never really one for pet names anyway, mostly stuck with Benny or Benjamin if the situation called for something longer but you had a few other go-tos – things like Pet and Blondie as signs of affection, or Handsome and Tiger when you wanted to make him blush.

A few minutes later Ben joined you on the couch, placing his coffee down beside yours, almost spilling it as he watched the news story that was playing. “Remember we’ve got that double date with Jill and Martin this afternoon,” you said, the memory only just coming to you yourself. “Yeah, what time was that?” “Hang on, I’ll check the chat.” You scrolled through the messages on your phone with one hand while you ate with the other, “uhhh right, yeah, meeting at the bowling alley at 1.30.” “Bowling? Good, better than another shitty movie,” You laughed, “hey the last one they picked wasn’t too bad.” “Yeah I know, just not in the mood for it since I’ve been on set all week. I know if I went to the cinema now I’d just get distracted thinking about all the behind the scenes stuff which isn’t ideal for becoming invested in the story. Plus they’re always choosing romcoms, doesn’t that get annoying for you?” “Not really,” you shrugged, “I mean, do I sometimes wish they’d branch out? Sure. But I enjoy romance in fiction I just don’t need it in my real life. Don’t get me wrong though, very happy to do something different this time.” “How long d’you think we’ll be out?” You shrugged, “A few hours maybe?” “We should pop to the shop on the way back then. You need milk and we could get something nice for dinner.” “Sounds good. Does that mean you’re staying over again tonight?” “I was planning to, yeah. Barely saw you last week so I was hoping to spend all weekend with you to make up for it.” “Bet you regret agreeing to go out with them now,” “Kinda. S’pose it’s too late to cancel though,” “Nah you still could but you know they’ll get stroppy about it and we’ll have to go out with them next week. They don’t have any other couple friends since Neil and Percy split and Bianca took her fella overseas.” “Yeah, wasn’t seriously suggesting it.” “What would the plan have been if we did cancel?” Ben chewed a mouthful of fruit thoughtfully, “you, me, your bed. No need to be too quiet since Sophie’s still out,” he glanced at your roommate’s bedroom door, his eyes swinging back to you as he continued, “Or y’know, we could do a puzzle and listen to music all day, have a cat nap after lunch, whatever.” “You’re cute when you’re being all lazy,” “There would be nothing lazy about it thank you very much,” “Cat naps aren’t lazy?” “You know that’s not the part I was talking about,” “It wasn’t? Then what won’t be lazy,” you tried to hold back a giggle in the middle of your faux confusion but broke when Ben blew a raspberry at you in response.

Nothing more was said about cancelling as you finished your breakfast, though truthfully you probably wouldn’t have minded if Ben had cried off sick and rescheduled the double date. But you both decided that Sunday would be a day for just the two of you to make up for having to spend Saturday afternoon with others. Instead, you spoke of the week just passed and commented on the news still playing on the TV. When you were finished (Ben using the last corner of one of his waffles to swipe the remnant syrup from his plate) you stood and stacked the sticky dishes in your arms. Ben collected the coffee cups and a few other assorted dishes from the previous night, leading the way towards the kitchen and the dishwasher. He loaded his small collection onto the shelves before turning to grab the top plate from the pile you held. A noise of disgust rose from his throat as you held the plate out and he miscalculated the trajectory, his palm landing in a puddle of syrup and fruit juice. You were torn between laughing at his expression and taking the opportunity to toy with him a little but, always ready to tease him, your desire to see him blush won out. Trying not to smile too much, you reached forward and wrapped your hand around his wrist, pulling his palm closer so you could lick the sweet syrup from his skin. Predictably his cheeks turned pink and he pulled his lip between his teeth as you let him go with a laugh. “Bet you’re really wishing we didn’t have to go out now, huh Tiger?” Ben didn’t respond but he did react, his eyes locked on you as he swiped his fingers along the same plate and held them out in offering. Not quite sure where things were heading but very keen on finding out, you leaned forward and let your lips part slightly. He took the action for what it was, an invitation, and trailed his fingertips across your lower lip before slipping them between the two. He watched closely as you sucked his fingers deeper, using your tongue to lick up the sweet residue. There was still an element of novelty with this aspect of your partnership. Still part of you that was intensely aware that it was Ben’s fingers in your mouth. There wasn’t any hesitation though, hadn’t been since that first time when you’d both had to psych yourselves up to actually look at each other naked. But there was a part of your brain that was almost surprised when you found yourselves at the edge of a sexual situation. You suspected he was similarly discombobulated by how easy it was for you to end up there, how frequently playful teasing and friendly jokes turned into hands grasping at bed sheets and breathless moans against sweat-slick skin. He pulled his fingers free from your lips, unwilling or perhaps unable to shift his gaze away from the thin string of saliva that connected them like some kind of erotic spider web that you were both already caught in. You waited to see what he’d do next, feeling your heart race in the pregnant pause so full of potential. And then he moved. You laughed as he grabbed you around the waist and lifted you at the same moment he stepped towards the bench, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He kissed you too, hungrily, as if it were impossible to resist. You’d looked down at him and suddenly been pulled towards each other, lips meeting with all the force and attraction of a magnetic field. Usually, he would have had a hand against the back of your head or your jaw but carrying you meant both his hands were already occupied so instead you substituted your own, tangling your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck to keep him from pulling away too far. As soon as you were safely positioned on the edge of the bench though his hands were free to fall elsewhere. One pressed against the small of your back as the other squeezed your thigh, encouraging you to keep your legs spread. Not that you could have closed them with Ben standing between them and not that the thought had even crossed your mind.

If you’d had all day Ben probably would have taken his time with you. Despite what he’d said earlier, you’d discovered Ben had a soft spot for slow and sensual intimacy. Making out that gradually built to passionate kiss-filled sex, foreplay that included soft caresses and whispered praise, anything that let him explore your body in intricate detail with his hands and lips. You’d been with guys like that before and had hated their insistence on linking hands and kissing you slowly. Those relationships never lasted long but with Ben it felt different, it felt good. Maybe it was because he knew you weren’t on board with overtly romantic acts and respected those boundaries you’d talked about so you never felt as if he were pushing you into a roll you didn’t enjoy. Or maybe he was just a better lover than they had been. Either way, it came to same result. You still preferred something less gentle and more energetic, though you felt you better understood the appeal of being held so close and kissed so tenderly. But with only a few hours before you’d have to start getting ready, Ben was inclined to speed things up a little. His hand quickly slipped up your thigh to press against your pussy, the cotton knickers you’d slept in the only thing keeping him from direct contact. You broke the kiss suddenly, the smacking sound loud in the small room, and dipped your head to press your lips to the notch between his clavicles. In response, Ben lifted his chin, exposing more of his throat to you and you took the chance to playfully nip at the junction where his neck and shoulder met. “Oi, no marks,” he said lwoly as you moved to kiss back up towards his jaw. “Afraid I’ll brand you with my initials?” “If you could legibly write your initials in hickeys I’d put up with whatever teasing the makeup ladies gave me,” “I’ll give it a crack then shall I?” Before you could so much as flick your tongue over his skin, Ben had raised a hand and placed it over your mouth to keep you from testing our your writing abilities, “Don’t think theres enough time, Sugar, but if you really want to I’ll let you try tonight, on my thigh where no one is likely to see it.” “Make it your arse and you’ve got a deal,” you said though it was a little muffled by his palm. “Fine,” he laughed, drawing his hand away, “But then I get to try it on you too,” You nodded, grinning, and then both fell into giggles, leaning against each other’s shoulders. This was what you’d hoped for when Ben had first approached you with the idea of being partners, what you’d been afraid you’d never actually find. Someone who would follow your tangential jokes even if it delayed sex. Someone you could be yourself with. You were distracted from the thought as Ben pressed his lips to your shoulder over the sleeve of your shirt. “Should I continue?” he asked, still smiling though softer, his fingertips lightly dancing over the crease of your thigh. “I’d be offended if you didn’t” “Can’t have that,” he leaned in to catch your lips once again, at the same time resuming stroking you over your panties so that you felt all the air leave your lungs in a rush. It felt good but you need more and so shifted your hips, trying to press yourself harder against his fingers. To get more leverage and better brace yourself as your centre of gravity changed, you dropped a hand behind you. Intuitively, Ben shifted the hand on your back higher and closer to your side to help keep you steady, the other still drawing lines along your clothed slit. You gasped as his thumb took up residence against your clit, rubbing it firmly so a visible damp patch began to form on your panties.

Ben grinned at you as your breath came harder and dragged his thumb back down away from your clit towards the leg of your underwear. Still watching your reactions, he twisted his fingers up under the material, gently tracing them along the same path they’d just followed only now he could feel your wetness directly. “I’ve got an idea,” he said, leaning close to your ear, as he circled your entrance with a fingertip before pressing it into you, “of how I’d like to fuck you right now. It might take a little flexibility on your part though. I mean, nothing too much, just getting your legs up on my shoulders.” Curious, and more than a little distracted by the addition of a second finger inside you, you nodded, “Sounds fun.” “Knew you’d say that. Just tell me if it’s too uncomfortable,” “Will do.” You leaned forward as Ben moved back a little, taking his fingers with him, giving you enough room to drop your hand to his crotch and grasp his stiff length through his undies, “Just get on with it.” “Puddin’ was too nice a nickname for you. Sugar too.” he gasped as you dragged your palm along his length and back again. “What’s the matter, Tiger?” “Maybe I should call you Tiger, if you’re going to keep grabbing my cock like that,” You laughed and let him go, leaning back on your palm again, “Tigress? Whatever, doesn’t matter. Are you going to fuck me or not?” “No I just wanted to get my dick hard for no reason,” he said sarcastically, poking his tongue out at you as he pushed his underwear down. “You’re such a –” you broke off with a sharp gasp as Ben tugged your underwear aside and pressed into you without warning, “dork.” Ben chucked and leaned in to kiss you quickly before readjusting your position a little by pulling you closer to him so your arse was right against the edge of the bench. Slowly he rolled his hips against you, pulling back and thrusting forward again, finding a rhythm that worked. You leaned back on both palms as Ben grabbed you by the waist, the other resting on your knee to keep it pressed against his side. “This feel alright?” he asked as he gave another thrust, hitting a spot deep inside you. “Mmhmm,” you nodded, able to feel yourself growing wetter with each stroke of his cock. “What about this?” Ben shifted first one of your legs and then the other to his shoulders, encouraging you to bend them at the knee. His hands moved to your sides, fingertips digging into your back as he pressed you even closer. The effect was that you felt as if you were almost folded in half but it wasn’t too uncomfortable. There was an almost weightless feeling to it and any slight awkwardness you felt with your chest meeting your thighs was a small price to pay for just how good Ben felt once again moving inside you. You tightened your fingers against the benchtop, wishing there was something you could grab onto as your whole body rocked with each of his thrusts, the position allowing him to penetrate you deeply, continuously brushing against a number of spots that sent electric spikes of pleasure through you. “Fuck,” was about all you could think to say. “That a good fuck?” Ben questioned, voice gruff with his exertions. “Yeah, yes, fuck, so good,” “So you like when I do this?” You let out a soft moan as he roughly fucked into you again, timing it just right. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he half laughed, turning his head to kiss your leg before leaning forward to catch your lips again. After that there wasn’t much room for talking. Ben, having assured himself that you were happy, speeded up his rhythm, clutching you tightly to keep your legs from slipping off his shoulders. His breathing became rougher, matching your own, as he drove into you, though he still kissed you as much as he could, panting against your lips, swallowing your moans and pushing whatever air he had into your lungs.

You could feel your orgasm bubbling up, like a pot of water on the verge of boiling, but knew Ben would reach his first, recognising his expression as the one he wore when he was trying to hold back from the edge. “Fu-ck you’re s-so tight,” he grunted, squeezing his eyes shut as he leaned his forehead against yours, “gonna have to pull out soon,” You could feel him pulling away and tightened your calves on either side of his neck in an effort to stop him, needing just a little more to reach your own release. “Not helping,” he groaned, suddenly unable to hold off any longer, “Shit. Y/N.” You whined as he stilled to shoot his release over your walls. “Jesus,” he said a little breathlessly, as he pulled out, your underwear slipping back over you, and rubbed his neck absentmindedly, “Didn’t expect that to finish me off. Did you…?” You shook your head, letting your leg slip to be caught in the crook of Ben’s arm. “Well let’s fix that, shall we,” he said, already letting you go to bend forward, his face right between your thighs. You felt a puff of his hot breath against you as he hooked his index finger into the crotch of your knickers, pulling it aside, and then his tongue was on you, lapping up your arousal and coming to rest against your clit. He set up camp there, focusing all his attention on the small nub. You let yourself drop back so you were holding yourself up on one elbow, your other hand on the back of Ben’s head, tugging on his hair as he drew a series of moans from you. With a particularly firm suck, you felt your cunt pulse and something warm and wet ran from you, dripping over the edge of the bench onto the cupboard door. You had an idea what it was so it surprised you when Ben released your clit to lick between your lips, catching it with his tongue and spreading it along your slit. “We taste good together,” he mumbled, going in to trace the same path over again, greedily licking up the mixture. You swore under your breath, feeling yourself right on the edge of your orgasm, unspeakably turned on by Ben lapping up the load he’d just left in you. Sensing how close you were he dragged his tongue over your clit again, quickly sliding two fingers into you to help you along. You whined his name as he pushed you over the edge, continuing to pump his fingers into you as he again sucked at your clit, not stopping until he was sure it had worked. “Thank you,” you said as he straightened up again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re such a dork,” he laughed as he kissed you again, tracing his tongue over yours. The man clearly wanted you lightheaded from lack of air. “Shut up,” you pushed yourself to sit up straight again, expecting Ben to step away and let you hop down from the bench. He didn’t though, instead absentmindedly toying with the leg of your underwear as his gaze fell to your lips. “Seriously?” Ben shrugged, “Eating you out made me hard again. And,” he quickly ran his fingers along the edge of the bench, collecting some of the mess you’d left there, “I think it’s only fair you should taste us too,” If he’s said it less earnestly you might have batted his hand away and laughed off the suggestion but something about his tone made you grab his wrist to pull his fingers towards your mouth. He hadn’t been wrong, the mix of you both did taste pretty good, though you’d already got a hint of it as he’d kissed you. “Good girl,” he breathed out, eyes heavy with lust, “think you’re up for more?” “Can we move elsewhere? The edge of the counter is digging into me.” “Okay,” Ben began tugging your underwear down and kicked off his own before pulling your shirt over your head, making you laugh. He Helped you stand and then immediately pushed you to the floor. For a moment you thought he was suggesting you give him a blowjob and were about to question him but half a second later he was following you down, laying down and pulling you on top. “I meant like the bed or the couch at least,” you said somewhere between incredulity and amusement. “Too far,” he grunted, bucking his hips to encourage you to mount him properly, “need you now.” You rolled your eyes as you sank down onto his dick, “Do I actually get to cum this time or…?” “Only if you move,” Ben growled as he grasped your hips and pulled you down onto him, making you cry out at the unexpectedly sudden sensation of being filled. He let you ride him for a bit, alternating between squeezing your thigh as he rubbed his thumb over your clit and cupping your breasts, teasing your nipples as he encouraged you to fuck yourself on his cock faster. You kept to the same steady pace though, intending to drag it out a little, make him wait. But it wasn’t long before he got fed up with the deliberately slow pace you’d cultivated. Without warning you found yourself on your back, Ben grasping your thighs as he kneeled over you, pulling your hips up a little so he could fuck you the way he wanted. Your voice shook as you moaned and writhed in his shadow, your own fingers dancing over your clit to keep building your orgasm. “Isn’t that better?” he said roughly, laughing a little as you nodded your agreement, “Making me wish I had cancelled our plans. Could stay in your pussy all day.” You whimpered and rubbed your clit harder. “C’mon Pumpkin, so close aren’t ya,” You squeezed your eyes shut, moaning when you finally tipped over the edge. But that didn’t stop Ben. He waited until your orgasm had subsided and then pushed your legs wide and up into the air so he could lay directly on top of you as he continued to pound you. Your voice shook as a moan was pulled from your throat and you squirmed beneath him, feeling yourself once again being drawn towards release. There was something about his weight pressing down on you, his breath against your ear. Something about how close he seemed, almost panting as his hips stuttered in and out of the rhythm he was desperately trying to hold on to. He mouthed at your neck as you tilted your head to accommodate him, reaching a hand down to squeeze his arse cheek. You were sore from every other way he’d fucked you, tired from the two orgasms he’d already wrung from you, and yet the thought of stopping him, of ending the incredible pleasure you felt at his hands, was the furthest thing from your mind. A scream caught in your throat as he seemed to press you even harder into the floor, your legs shaking in the air as he grit his teeth and grunted with each harsh drive into you. And then he came, gasping against your throat as he felt you cum too, finally releasing the scream you’d been holding onto until the noise turned to breaths so ragged they felt like sobs.

Ben kissed your throat and then your jaw as he came back to earth, still laying on you. “How was that?” he asked softly when you’d remained quiet for a while. You drew in a deep breath, “Pum-Pumpkin?” “What?” “You called me fucking Pumpkin of all things, while trying to get me off?” “So?” “Jesus Ben,” you half-heartedly swatted at his side, “you’re lucky I was so close that it didn’t matter otherwise I might have laughed and completely lost the orgasm.”   Ben joined in your laughter, the sensation of his shaking body on top of yours slightly odd but mostly quite comforting. Until he shifted his hips without thinking and made you wince. “Sorry,” he said, pressing his lips to yours again as if to kiss away the discomfort before he gingerly pulled out of you and sat back on his knees, “But you did cum that time, right?” “I think you know I did,” you sighed, already able to see what was coming, as you let your legs drop to the floor. “So wait, how many times exactly?” You sighed and shook your head slightly. “Because if my maths is right, I think we got you to three times. Once on the bench and twice on the floor. One plus two is three, yes?” “Yes that’s how basic addition works Ben,”  “And who was it again that got you to three orgasms? Was it,” he pointed a finger as his one chest, “Moi?” “Alright asshole, you’re very impressive and a somewhat decent shag,” “I think you could be a little more grateful considering that performance. Might have been my best ever moves,” You pushed Ben in the middle of the chest, exaggeratedly rolling your eyes but, truthfully you were inclined to agree that it had been his best performance yet, at least in your experience. “Here let me help you,” he chuckled as you tried to stand, almost falling over as your legs shook. Quickly, Ben pushed himself to his feet and then offered you a hand up too, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you steady. “Thanks,” “I hope I haven’t made it too hard for you to walk. Wouldn’t want to throw off your bowling cos you were fucked so right.” “Jesus Christ,” you couldn’t help but laugh.

The rest of the time you had before you had to leave was spent tidying up the kitchen, cleaning up the evidence of the mornings activities in case your roommate got home before you, washing up and getting ready to go. Which is really when things started to go downhill. If you’d realised you might have told yourself to stay home, come up with a quick excuse to get out of it and just played video games with Ben for the rest of the day or something. But there was no way to know what was coming so you didn’t. You talked happily as you got into Ben’s car (which was already parked on the street), excited to see your friends and looking forward to the afternoon.

The double date itself was quite fun, although draining. There was always an element of playing pretend at these sorts of occasions. Not that you minded so much. It was either play up the romance of your relationship or have to explain what you were to everyone and a few hours of pretending Ben was your boyfriend was honestly much simpler. At least bowling was better than the cinema. The first time you’d gone on a double date to a movie you’d sat down beside Ben, the popcorn you were sharing balanced on the arm rest between you. Martin and Jill had raised their armrest and were virtually sitting on top of each other, hands entwined. Which would have been fine except Martin had leaned over and said, “you know these things move” and looked expectantly at you. Ben and you had shared a glance and then tried to say you were both fine with the space but they’d given you matching looks that said they thought you were being weird or prudish or judging their willingness to cuddle in public. So you’d relented and shifted the armrest so you could spend the next two hours sitting with Ben’s arm around your shoulders, both of you more tense about the situation than you ever would have been if you’d just been allowed to sit in your seats like normal. Things had improved a bit since then. Ben had told you that one night when you’d gone out to a bar together, Martin had pulled him aside as asked why he never kissed you properly. Ben had shrugged and said he didn’t like PDAs, that he didn’t want photos to spread or anything like that, especially since it was still so new, and Martin had accepted it. They began to see that your ways of being affectionate were quieter, stealing sips from each other’s drinks, a warm hand against a knee, dumb nicknames that made you both laugh. Even if Jill did sometimes still try to convince you that there was nothing wrong with snogging in the middle of a busy street. Nonetheless you never felt fully able to relax when it was just the four of you. Always conscious of how they saw you, always worried that they’d decide you weren’t being affectionate enough and would tell everyone else you were going through a rough patch which would lead to more scrutiny. While at the same time worrying that one of them would start asking how serious it was between you and Ben, were you thinking about the future? Could you see yourselves moving in together? Was he the one? And it took a lot of energy to constantly be alert about what you were saying, always careful to not accidentally give away the secret truth of the situation. Bowling was fun though and less pressure than other double dates you’d been on. You could get away with not holding hands or sitting on Ben’s lap since everyone was standing up frequently and it didn’t make sense to be on top of one another. You could share small pecks on the lips or else tight hugs to celebrate strikes. And Ben made sure to tease you for missed pins, just like he always had, with a few added silly nicknames. He called you his sweet little hotdog after a particularly bad gutter shot which had made you laugh so hard you choked on your drink, and made Jill give him a disapproving glance. He’d smoothed it over by letting her overhear him saying he loved you, whispering the platonically just for you.

By the time Jill had been declared the winner of the game, you were ready to head home and spend a night forwarding Ben weird videos and dumb memes. Ready to be allowed to just exist without needing to be romantically linked to anyone. But it wasn’t quite to be. Martin made the suggestion that all of you should head to McDonalds for dinner and before you knew it you were standing in line, waiting for the kid at the cash register to serve you. You leaned your head on Ben’s shoulder as you stared at the menu, and vaguely wondered how someone working in a fast food joint could be so bright and bubbly. Right up until Ben nudged you and asked what you wanted. “Um, can I get a quarter pounder and a frozen coke, thanks.” “And?” Ben supplied. “And what?” “Y/N I know you want dessert, get dessert.” “And an Oreo McFlurry,” you smiled and bumped Ben’s shoulder with yours as he laughed and finished paying. “You guy’s make a cute couple,” the girl who’d served you said, eyes following the path of Ben’s gaze to you, still smiling. She seemed to realise what she’d said, her ears turning red, but Ben thanked her and added, “I think I have to agree,” as he squeezed your hip, before moving away so Jill and Martin could order. You’d smiled at her too but it wasn’t quite genuine.

It wasn’t that you weren’t used to it, people assuming you and Ben were in fact a couple. You were. One or two weeks after you’d first agreed to try out being queerplatonic partners, most of your friends had put two and two together and worked out that something was going on between you. Of course they didn’t know you were aromantic and they probably didn’t have any idea what a QPR was so they’d really added two and two and got five but you weren’t about to correct them. As you’d said to Ben, it was too much too soon to do that. Maybe if the QPR thing worked out long term, maybe then you could tell them. And besides, they weren’t exactly wrong anyway. They’d originally assumed you and Ben were just hooking up after Martin had dropped in to pick up something he’d left at Ben’s and had seen you spread out on Ben’s couch with sex hair and a rather large hickey on your neck and Ben’s sweater hanging off your shoulder. He’d asked Ben who’d just shrugged in response and said it wasn’t a big deal. You estimated it took about a minute and a half to reach everyone else. The next time you’d gone out as a group you’d felt them all watching you and Ben closely, trying to determine if Martin with bullshitting them all or not. They’d all decided it was just sex though. Until you were clearly still together a month later and they decided it had to be serious since Ben had never successfully fucked a girl for that long without catching feelings. That was when they started referring to you as boyfriend and girlfriend. That was also when the comments about how cute you were or how they’d always known you’d get together had first started. The first few times you’d heard it, it felt weird but you figured that was just because it was you and Ben and you were still working out how to be partners without the romance. You’d been in relationships before though and didn’t have any major objections to anything they said so you found it fairly easy to deal with and mostly you didn’t notice it anymore.

Except now it was bothering you. Something about the girl’s comment had rubbed you the wrong way. Which made you feel bad because she was just a kid with a shitty minimum wage job who didn’t know you from Adam. She had no idea. She was just trying to say something nice to a couple of strangers. You supposed your dislike of the comment probably had something to do with spending all afternoon putting on the romantic act for the benefit of your friends. Maybe even something about the sex from earlier. Probably just exhaustion from everything, a shorter fuse. It could even just be PMS though you’d have to check how far off your next period was to be sure. Whatever the reason it felt…not wrong exactly just off. You stayed quiet during most of the meal, aware you weren’t being great company and aware that Ben had realised something was wrong since he kept glancing at you when the other two weren’t looking. “Y/N,” Jill’s voice cut through your thoughts, “Still with us?” “Yeah,” you said, pulling a smile onto your face, “sorry, just a bit tired. Didn’t sleep well last night,” That statement was met by high pitched oohing noises and Martin jokily reprimanding Ben for keeping you up. You forced yourself to laugh with them, “Not like that you pervs. Ben was filming a night scene yesterday so didn’t actually get to mine until what,” you looked to Ben for confirmation, “One-thirty was it?” “Something like that. I don’t know I fell asleep almost as soon as I put my head down.” “Me, not so much,” you shrugged, “It’s all just catching up with me now.” They accepted that excuse without question and didn’t aim too many more comments in your direction, letting you finish your food without having to keep your mind on their conversation. And pretty soon you were hugging them goodbye and promising you’d organise the next date as Martin told Ben to get you home to bed before you fell asleep in your ice cream.

Ben waited until you were safely back inside your apartment before he asked if you were okay. “We were meant to get milk,” you sighed, trying to push away the annoyingly persistent discomfort. “I’ll go out later and get some. Or we can get Sophie to bring some back when she comes home. Are you okay though?” Unsure if this was a situation where you’d want space, Ben hovered at a respectful distance until you stepped in close and leaned your head against his chest. As soon as he knew you wanted him there he wrapped his arms tightly around you, “What’s wrong?” “Not sure. Think it all just got a bit much.” “How do you mean?” You shrugged as much as his embrace would allow and talked against his chest as you tried your best to explain how flat you felt, “I think the girl who served us was just like the straw that broke the camel’s back, y’know.” “Did me agreeing with her make things worse?” You shook your head, “Don’t think so. I knew you meant it in a different way to her. Besides, the other two were in earshot so there wasn’t much else you could say.” “You know that what everyone else thinks of us doesn’t change anything about what we have, right, or what we mean to each other. It doesn’t change who you are.” You didn’t mean to say it but the words had escaped before you could stop them, “Wouldn’t it be easier if it did though.” “But then you wouldn’t be you and I love you, platonically.” You smiled and nodded as you stepped back a little, though Ben’s arms wouldn’t let you go too far, “I know, thank you. And I’m fine, just having a bit of an off afternoon.” “Are you sure? Is there anything else I can do to help?” “No, you’ve been perfect.” You leaned up to give him a quick kiss, “And I know I’m being stupid about it. I knew what I was signing up for when I decided not to come out to them. Besides, being back home with you has definitely made me feel better already.” “Do you want a cuppa or anything?” “Nah, think I might just go lie down and read for bit. Decompress a little, y’know.” “Okay. Give me a shout if you want anything, yeah,” he pressed a kiss to your temple and give you an extra squeeze before he let you go.

Slowly you headed to your bedroom, kneeling down at your bookshelf and running your fingers along the spines until you found the one you wanted. That particular book had seen better days. It’s spine was cracked, the image on the cover peeling away from the cardboard underneath. More than one page had begun to fray around the edges like an ancient treasure map in a cartoon, with little triangles missing and the corners permanently creased where they’d been dog eared a hundred times. But as you settled into the bed, Ben’s pillow still smelling faintly of his hair pomade, you began to feel more yourself. Ben was right. What other people thought of your relationship didn’t matter. He was still your Ben, the same Ben who’s hoodie had been living in your cupboard for years now because he spent so much time at yours anyway it just made sense to keep a spare there. The same Ben who’d bought you your favourite pair of sunglasses when you’d left your old ones at home by accident. The same Ben who’d gradually been reading his way through your entire bookshelf rather than buying his own paperbacks. You had too much history there and too much love for each other for anyone else’s opinions to matter. And your partnership was good. It made you happy so it had to be good.

The time passed quickly as you read so when you looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps and saw that a couple of hours had passed, you were a little taken aback. Ben poked his head round the corner and then stepped through the doorway when he saw you looked better. “Nice to see you smiling again,” he said softly as he crawled up beside you. Without thinking you lifted your arm so he could snuggle against you, his head on your chest. “What’re you reading?” “First Test by Tamora Pierce. First book in her Protector of the Small series.” “What’s it about?” “A girl training to become a knight. Gran bought it for me as a kid while we were on a holiday at the seaside.” Ben glanced at the worn pages, “Do you reread it a lot?” “Yeah a bit. The main character, Kel, is like the only aromantic character I know of so she’s kinda important to me.” “The main character’s aro?” “I mean, not explicitly. It was published in ’99 and the terminology to describe aro experiences didn’t really start being used until like the late 2000s and even then only in certain communities online. But Tamora Pierce did answer some questions on her website and said that as she was writing the series Kel became less and less interested in romance and sex so even though she didn’t have the words for it back then, she would consider Kel aro and probably ace too. And I mean, rereading them I definitely feel an aro sort of reaction to a lot of the romance stuff, even when Kel does start kissing boys and all that.” Ben leaned back to better see your face, “Will you read to me?” You leaned down to kiss him, unhurriedly, softly, letting your lips linger on his. “Is that a yes?” “That was a sorry I’ve been weird this evening kiss actually.” “Don’t worry about it,” he said simply, snuggling back down, his head once again resting on your chest and his arm thrown over your waist. You adjusted your grip on the book and began to read from where you’d left off, one hand running absentmindedly through his hair, both of you sighing softly as you relaxed into each other.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #idk i hope its okay #also if you have any more idea for potential future chapters about these two send them my way #i like having an aro character to come back to every now and again lmao

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

Hi! I came across your blog and have been reading all your answers and I feel like you’re a breath of fresh air here on tumblr! Definitely one of the few blogs I’d ever feel comfortable sharing my thoughts in even if you shared a different view point than me.

I don’t really have an ask but I did want to just get something off my chest and find this to be a safe space. Jimin is my bias and I..love him to death. It’s almost concerning to me sometimes when I realize how protective I am over him given the fact that we do not know eachother LOL. He just seems like the most genuine, soft, and kind soul. And because of that, I find myself holding my breath whenever BTS releases any content and my eyes immediately scan to see where jimin is and what he’s doing. I find myself sigh a breath of relief sometimes whenever I see him not interacting with jungkook because I know that the hate geared towards him won’t be as vicious that day. Then I have to remind myself that Jimin has every right to interact with any member he wants to which is absolutely true! And I love Jimin for always doing whatever he finds true to himself.

I think Jimin’s friendship/relationship with Jungkook gives me pause at times because of how jungkook reacts sometimes and will pull away from Jimin. At the end of the day, I’m sure if jungkook/jimin had any awkwardness in their relationship/friendship, they would iron it out because they’ve known eachother for so long. And as fans we don’t know everything. And I know jungkook shows affection to all members in different ways. Jungkook also should be allowed to act anyway he wants without people scrutinizing his every interaction which probably makes him feel awkward too.

Sometimes I wish I could wipe my brain and watch all bts content without the knowledge of how dynamics affect the hate members get lol. Selfishly, I enjoy it whenever Jimin spends time with the Hyung line especially Namjoon. Minimoni’s friendship makes my heart warm.

I’m not a shipper, I’m just jimin biased and I love ot7. And I always love to see the members no matter who, love on jimin and cherish him.

Hellooo! I get that a lot in real life lol, that I'm easy to talk to. I certainly love a different point of view as long as it's reasonable.

I watched the new spiderman movie a couple of weeks ago and, this isn't a spoiler, but there's a part where they say something like we love people because of the things that they represent in the world, too. I'm a loser so I thought of people I love in real life but I also thought about Jimin because he has always represented good things about life and humanity for me. So sometimes it's not a matter of "how are you gonna hate on Jimin?!" but more like "how are you gonna hate on such a great person?" if you know what I mean.

I don't know if I feel protective, like I don't know if that's the word I would use for what I feel, but I do feel terribly sad and disgusted. It used to make me soooo angry too, but fortunately I don't feel angry about it anymore, because angry is just an awful thing to be. I can tolerate being sad, I'm a pisces, being sad is a personality trait atp and I used to be an overexcited kid who talked a lot and read a lot and got myself too involved with people because I felt like I had to help and love everyone, but I realized I couldn't. I'm not religious but there's this thing that I like and it says:

"Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference."

It's actually called serenity prayer and it starts like "God grant me..." but I'm not religious so I just skipped that part hehe.

Yeah, of course they have the right and should be able to do whatever they want and with whoever they want. I personally think they already do as much as they want lol, at least as relationships within BTS are concerned. I think it's okay to have emotions about things as long as you don't lose sight of what's the reality and, in the end, as long as you aren't forcing yourself to feel something you're not really feeling. Like, if something stops making you feel good, then it's okay to just admit that. Everyone always talks about how BTS are humans too but so are we...

I love minimoni so much... you have no idea. Yes, exactly T_T I also feel warmth in my chest when I think about minimoni. It's just so serene.

[ootori-sibs]

Colour blind

Day one of @ohshc-week : soulmates or found family

Everyone always knew that there were two things that everyone had; sight that only saw the colour of their soulmates soul, and that words appear on their skin when they realise they've fallen in love and colour returns to their sight- and those words are the words moment by their soulmate in that moment.

Kyoya didn't have a soulmate, that much was true. He was sure of it the moment his sister told him about the legends, he remembers in this stupid little toddler wisdom, actually asking her.

"Fumi… why don't I see any colours..?"

He remembers the look of absolute heartbreak on his sister's face, as she came to the conclusion everyone he'd told had come to; Kyoya didn't have a soulmate, he was unlovable, he would die alone. But of course Fiyumi had done her best to comfort him, suggesting any number of reasons he couldn't see a single colour; maybe his soulmate's soul wasn't on the visible spectrum? Maybe he was just colourblind? Maybe his soulmate didn't even have a soul? Kyoya had jumped right on that excuse, the idea that his soulmate was a demon of some sort, made sense in his little toddler brain, especially when falling for his horribly crude, horribly rude ex, maybe his own soul was an ugly shade of green, just like Kuze had said he could see- Kyoya didn't even know what green looked like. But every night, he searched his body for words, any word Kuze had ever said to him- and never found anything.

That was probably the final nail in the coffin, the final, undeniable proof that he never had a soulmate, and never would. He spent so many nights, ending up in tears… how was he so unlovable? He had no friends after upsetting both Kuze and his fiancée, he'd told them he saw orange, he just wanted to make him happy… but she saw orange, she was who made him happy. He was all alone, and he would always be alone…

Then he met Tamaki, Tamaki was special, Tamaki made him feel happy like he hadn't felt in so long. But never once did Kyoya let himself fall for the man, he knew better by now, he never told Tamaki that he couldn't see in colour, he didn't want his new best friend to think him a freak. But he loved to listen to Tamaki go on and on about the colour he saw… purple.

Purple was the colour of Tamaki's eyes, the colour of the roses he had surrounded Kyoya with, it was a colour so beautiful, it could bring Tamaki to tears if he spoke about it for too long, it was a colour that Tamaki so often told Kyoya he looked so good in. Kyoya had to trust his word, he had no idea how colour theory worked, only how blacks and whites and greys looked together, there was nothing Kyoya hated more than blacks and greys.

Black was a dark, sombre colour, it wasn't even a colour, it was a shade of nothing, the ugliest in Kyoya's opinion; it was the colour of his unlovable hair, the colour of the book he carried around, the colour of everything sick and bad. The greys were worse; they were everything Kyoya couldn't see, they were every colour of the rainbow, a horrible reminder of everything he was not, the horrible mark of a lack of love, they were the colour of his eyes, showing everyone exactly who he was, he hated greys- but he hated the colours even more, the light hiding from his vision.

White was the only lack of colour he ever cared for; the sunlight drifting through the open window and onto his face, the inside of warm, fresh bread, it was the colour that everything light and bright appeared to be, it wasn't an absence of happiness, but the only joy Kyoya could gleam, it was also the colour that most of Tamaki appeared as, from his hair to his overly expensive 'red' leather shoes.

Then the host club was founded, it was a joint effort, though Kyoya really didn't see the point, all these girls had soulmates, what could they ever see in their hosts? Kyoya didn't understand romance for the sake of romance, everything should be about your soulmate- how dare these selfish brats focus on anything else? He'd always hated how his brothers focused on their studies, they were always better than him in one sense- did they have to be better than him in every way? Now these boys and their stupid guests were going to mess around, neglecting time that should be spent searching for their soulmate. But of course Kyoya couldn't have just said that, then Tamaki would ask why Kyoya never searched for his own… and he'd have to admit how unlovable he was.

But he grew fond of the club, if not their activities. He still resented each and every guest to walk through their door, but at least Kyoya could excuse the hosts- they were only messing around. Besides, at least one of them already knew their soulmate; Honey saw a dark mauve colour, it was a strange colour, one Kyoya couldn't even begin to imagine, the boy-lolita's soulmate was a girl from the black magic club, who had previously complained about the bright pink shades everything took- now it was her favourite colour.

He began to see the hosts as a family unit, like the times Tamaki always described, it was never anything like his own family- but he had to adore the beautiful nuclear family picture Tamaki painted for him… himself as the mother, and Tamaki was always the father. It was a picture perfect scene, one Kyoya would never be able to have in any other context. Of course he loved, he fell in love every day, any time there was a beautiful man on the television, any time a handsome man passed his vision in any context. Sometimes he developed a small crush on someone he actually knew, and he had to crush it and remove it from his mind- he was unlovable, he had to remember that.

Haruhi came along and Kyoya began to believe Tamaki had found his soulmate, maybe she was purple, but the roses he found surrounded her were red apparently, not purple- that was the first he realised it was only him surrounded by purple. He appreciated Tamaki surrounding him in such an important colour, he supposed a best friend was a stand in for a soulmate until you found it. He supposed that was also why he was mommy- he'd lose the role once Tamaki found his queen.

He didn't understand why that thought made him feel so sad.

He didn't understand why Haruhi gave him such pitying eyes when he explained why he agreed to found the club with Tamaki.

He certainly didn't understand why he was in physical pain when he was so close to losing Tamaki. He should be happy for his best friend- Eclair was Tamaki's soulmate after all wasn't he? He wondered what colour his friend's soul was…

But Eclair didn't feel like a purple, she didn't fit any of the descriptors Tamaki gave the colour; she wasn't subtle, sure she was mature- but in too sexual of a sense, purple was withdrawn but glowing, it was a smart colour, one that Tamaki truly loved… Eclair was none of that, she was disgusting.

When they settled down together to watch the fireworks after the most stressful day of all their lives, it was Hikaru who spoke up. "Uhh… Haruhi?" Haruhi glanced over to him, and Kyoya noticed how the louder twin was holding his forearm, "I have to show you…" and he pulled back his sleeve, to reveal words written in block text, what was presumably red; 'don't worry about that Hikaru, I got this.' and from the gasp that emanated from Haruhi, it was something she had said to him.

Suddenly, she was looking around in awe, "so many colours…" her hands went to her mouth, before her eyes went down to her own forearm, pulling her own sleeve back, only to see the words Hikaru had just spoken, written in… was that comic sans?

All the hosts watched in silence as they embraced, Haruhi kissing Hikaru on the nose before they both chuckled happily… Kyoya had to look away, feeling a pang of pain at his friends' happy ending. Honey seemed to have the opposite reaction, clapping his hands together with a giggle and a smile, "aww!! Hika-chan loves Haru-chan!!"

Kaoru seemed pleased, patting his brother on the back, "hell yeah, I called it!"

Tamaki simply gasped, "I knew you had impure intentions for my little girl!" He points at Hikaru, "devil twin!" He glanced at Kyoya pouting, "mommy! Set some ground rules!"

Kyoya sighs, feeling his heart pounding heavy in his chest, really not feeling up to this, he crossed his arms. "Hurt her, we hurt you, and the same goes for vise versa, both of you- take care of each other." The two looked up at Kyoya, both smiling in amusement at how willing Kyoya was to go along with Tamaki's antics, but knowing full well the threats were real- Kyoya doesn't do fake threats. "Although I know you won't, cause you're both fucking soulmates and perfect for each other, obviously." He shoots a quick glare at Tamaki for making him give such a redundant threat.

But the hosts had all paused, looking at him in confusion, that was the first time they'd ever heard Kyoya swear, and they were concerned. "Aren't you happy for them Kyo-chan? What's wrong..?" Honey asked, tilting his head slightly. Only then does Kyoya realise what he'd said, and he withdrew in on himself, trying to find an excuse, any excuse…

"Aw… are you upset you still haven't found yours yet?" Tamaki smiled softly, hugging him, "that's so cute Kyoya!" Kyoya felt his cheeks heat up slightly, cursing his sensitivity for things like this.

"Ugh, it's nothing, I'm just a little stressed from today, alright?" He forced a smile, adjusting his glasses quietly and stepping away from Tamaki, who looked a little disappointed.

"I wished I could date *my* soulmate already." Tamaki spoke, sighing, "you two are very lucky," he had turned to the lucky couple again, smiling now.

Haruhi chuckles, smiling back, "oh don't worry, I'm sure your soulmate would be easy to find, she's probably one of your guests."

Tamaki shakes his head at that "oh I already know my soulmate, I'm just waiting for my soulmate to find me."

Everyone pauses at that, and Kyoya feels an even greater pang of pain, his best, dearest friend has found his soulmate, and doesn't even attempt to court her? How selfish of him, what another those without soulmates- not that he'd be aware of that, it's only Kyoya…. It's Hikaru who speaks up, frowning, "why not just tell her? She'd have to realise then?"

"That would be unfair, to deprive my love of the wonderful feeling of discovery and adoration, the same I felt… I'd never want my true love to be forced into such a discovery." He smiles, sighing wistfully, ever the romantic is Tamaki, and Kyoya could only wish he had someone who would do that for him… but that was impossible.

Hikaru paused, glancing at Haruhi, "well know I feel bad."

Haruhi chuckled, kissing Hikaru's cheek, "don't worry, I appreciate the straightforwardness, I'm glad you just told me. That's why we fit, and whoever Tamaki-senpai's soulmate is, will appreciate his gesture as much as I appreciate yours."

Aw how romantic, Kyoya almost felt sick, his rage- his jealousy, was almost unbearable, what he wouldn't do for a soulmate… someone he could call his own…

They went inside, intending to relax inside the clubroom, in fact Tamaki had suggested they stay the night. So they were setting up for a nice big sleepover, but Kyoya just sat by the window, once again mourning his lack of love. He wasn't really paying attention to what the other hosts were doing, he was just thinking about everything and nothing, he tried to focus on finances and money, at least to keep the tears away, what had he learnt in school recently? Not much if he was honest.

He could hear Tamaki arguing with the twins once again, some things never changed, as much as it was annoying, it was lovely background noise… everything Tamaki said was lovely background noise. Tamaki was just, lovely in general- Kyoya couldn't ask for a better best friend… of course he'd never say that, he could never admit how much he-

"MAMA!!" Tamaki cried out, rushing to Kyoya's side, his eyes big and shimmering, whining and complaining about something the twins had done or said, but all Kyoya could think about was…

-loved him. He loved him, he could never admit how much he loved Tamaki. Oh for fucks sake, he'd fallen for Tamaki Souh of all people, his best friend. He thought he'd never make that mistake again- falling for a friend never ends well.

He sighed, opening his eyes again to look that idiot in the face and… his eyes… was that… purple?

He couldn't see a single grey, not one speck… he looked around, barely any black either… oh heavens, oh god. It seemed Tamaki had noticed something, standing up, and- oh his suit really was white… white, the colour of the roses on Tamaki's table, that fool loved the colour white almost as much as he did purple…

"Are you alright Kyoya? You look a little… shocked." Tamaki smiled, looking down at him. The other hosts glanced over, oh they were all so colourful… Kyoya could cry…

"Your suit is white…" was all he could manage, practically rendered speechless as he felt a telltale tingle on his wrist…

Tamaki nodded, smiling brighter, "you've only just noticed? Or are you finally seeing in colour?" This got the other hosts attention, all eyes going wide, Kyoya had no clue what those colours were… the same as coffee he thought, at least in Haruhi's case.

"You're white- you… your soul…" Kyoya managed to choke out, looking down at his wrist, written in beautiful white cursive was the word; 'MAMA!!', all caps, two exclamations… and Kyoya felt the tears spilling, for the first time not out of sadness or mourning.

"Oh my god! You two are soulmates???" Hikaru blurted out, seemingly shocked, especially as Tamaki nodded.

"I surrounded him in purple for a reason." He then paused, frowning and turning back to Kyoya, "white? My soul is white? Not even a real colour..? God… no wonder you got so nervous whenever I brought up the idea of soulmates…" the pity was clear in his voice, but Kyoya couldn't care less.

"I thought I didn't have one…" he managed to admit, grabbing Tamaki and pulling him into the tightest hug he could manage, he was in love, he was allowed to be in love- he even had a soulmate that was so special his colour was unique! "You're every colour in the entire light spectrum, you're too real…"

Tamaki chuckled at that, smiling and giving Kyoya lots of little face kisses, "I'm glad your happy mon amour, now please let me go, I can't breathe."

"I'm never letting you go again," Kyoya spoke truthfully, he ever wanted to feel as alone as he had felt not ten minutes ago ever again, he grabbed Tamaki by the face, staring him in the eyes, "now kiss me and don't ever fucking stop."

#ohshc week #ohshc #kyoya ootori #tamaki souh #tamakyo #kyotama #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #hikaharu #ohshcweek

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Tracing Time

This discusses the hate crime in s3 (and the homophobia plotline in sos).

Thursday, 02:26

Song: IAMX - Insomnia; Crywolf ft. EDEN - Stomach It

He’s going to break that clock.

It’s usually not something that bothers him. Sometimes he even finds it soothing, counts the ticks to help him sleep. Now it’s too loud, occupies too much space, and taunts him with how late it is and how much he’s going to regret this tomorrow. Even though it’s out of his control.

He stuffs his face further into his pillow and makes himself take a deep breath. When that doesn’t work, he takes another. Then one more. And another.

He gets up, climbs so that he’s standing on top of his bed, and takes the clock off the wall. He pulls out the batteries from the back, careful not to let them drop and roll away, and there. Peaceful, beautiful, blissful silence. This time his deep breath works, sending a wave of relaxation all the way through him before he climbs down again.

When he crawls back into bed, he’s got his phone in one hand and his key to Robbe’s in the other.

He doesn’t really do anything with either, just sets his phone next to him and lets his hand rest on it and rubs his thumb over the key in the habit he’s picked up. It’s most soothing, even as he feels apprehension and doubt swirl in his chest. Robbe had gone to sleep before Sander even went to bed, messaging him while Sander was still working on his assignment, trying to finish off just that one paragraph. He’d told himself that was enough to be satisfied with, that it would be more beneficial to sleep when he still has two days to work on it. He’d had to take his pills, anyway, and he’d hoped they’d pretty much knock him out, but he hardly even feels as sleepy as he usually does.

Now he just feels like he’s wasting his time. He’s not working or sleeping, and his brain has nowhere to go so it spins in circles.

He's thinking about his assignment, still. Worrying. He’s pretty sure he’ll get it done, but that doesn’t mean it won’t be a load of crap. He’s also thinking about Agathe, telling him he’s doing well. He’s thinking about the woman with the death stare from the cafe. He’s thinking about that talk with Jens, and moving on and doing better.

He rubs over the key too quickly and lets out a hiss as he scratches his thumb. Instead of putting it down, however, he holds it tight in his hand and picks up his phone.

He navigates to Robbe’s contact, first. He looks at their messages from earlier, the usual banter, the sweet goodnight, and he settles a little, allows it to warm him. He could text Robbe, but chances are that the boy is definitely asleep and Sander will wake him up. Robbe’s insomnia had returned with a weak sort of vengeance after the holidays as he stressed about his final ever semester, but he seems to have gotten it under control now. Sander will not disturb him.

He could go through and look at videos or photos or listen to voice notes, bring the remnants of Robbe close enough to feel his comfort. Or it might just strengthen the twinge in his heart.

He finds himself opening Instagram instead, maybe to bore him to sleep, and finds Lucas’s story waiting for him. He’s only shared a song, nothing unusual, but it was also only posted two minutes ago.

Sander’s calling him without even taking time to think about it, but Lucas picks up on the first ring.

“Hi,” he says, voice low and sleepy but curious, the concern thinly veiled. “Can’t sleep either?”

“No,” Sander whispers. “Hi.”

Lucas is silent for a moment, probably waiting for Sander to speak. Eventually, he gives up. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Sander pauses. “No? I don’t know.”

“Okay,” Lucas says. “I’ll wait.”

Well.

It’s not Robbe, but it’s the next best thing, maybe. It’s the perfect thing to say, to do. Because Lucas won’t push, but he won’t leave. He’ll breathe in Sander’s ear and wait. Sander takes the time, because he knows, is sure, that it really is allowed, and without the incessant ticking it doesn’t feel as long, anyway. Even when he’s silent for what must be a few minutes, Lucas stays silent, too. Keeps waiting.

“Are you scared of Jens’s house?” Sander finally asks.

The silence on the other end becomes total, and Sander checks to make sure Lucas hasn’t hung up. But no; it’s just his breaths that have stopped. Sander worries for a brief moment before a sigh emits. “I know you spoke to him.”

Sander takes it for the non-answer it is and points it out as one. “That wasn’t my question.”

“I know.” Their breaths pass to each other silently again. Then Lucas just says, “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid. Even now. It doesn’t matter that I know it’s stupid. It doesn’t matter when he’s not there.” He takes a louder breath. “I think I’m just always a little afraid, anyway, though.”

Sander absorbs this. After a while, he just says, softly, “Yeah.”

It’s not that he hadn’t been, even before. Merely meeting Robbe was scary for a multitude of reasons, and kissing him for the first time had his heart pounding, but it was worth it, so worth it. Then he’d had Robbe turn him down, had seen Robbe so hurt and upset by what he’d done, and he’d felt the fear and the horror and the disgust at himself before he realised it was all the same things that had made Robbe so harsh in the first place. It hadn’t mattered, when Robbe came back to him, because Sander had him then and that was all he wanted and he had always understood. Even if he had never struggled with himself quite the way Robbe had, it was still part of his understanding. He’d never really needed Robbe to explain himself to him.

Then Sander had taken Robbe on what he thought would be a perfect first date, and his understanding grew to a whole new level.

And with it comes the fear.

Even though he knows, he knows, that Robbe has only been strengthened, has only grown braver, because of their relationship. Even though he never wishes or feels the need to hide Robbe, never, no matter where and when they might be. It’s still there.

It’s a valid fear, and that understanding fills Sander with such a burning fury that of course he has to fight back against it.

He’s already spent too much of his life fearing too much about himself. He will not fear this, not when it is what allows him his biggest source of happiness.

“Is this about the bar?” Lucas asks quietly. “I know you talked to Jens.”

Sander huffs.

“I’m sorry, if you didn’t want him to pass anything on to me, but he needed to tell me you were the one knocking sense into him. I’ve been meaning to say thanks.”

“I didn’t do anything,” he mumbles.

Lucas hums. “You did. You understood.”

“So I was right?”

“Of course you were,” Lucas laughs, derisively. “You knew you were. I mean, you’re also shockingly wrong, but that’s a whole different point.”

Sander frowns, furrowing his brows, even though Lucas can’t see him. “What does that mean?”

There’s silence for a moment, and then Lucas sighs. “You know it’s not the same. With you guys...it’s not just about Robbe.” He pauses for a moment. “It’s not your fault.”

“It’s not yours either,” Sander says forcefully.

“That’s not what I meant. I know it’s not. I know enough about the guy to know he’s just a dick, and no matter what I did, that wouldn’t be any different. I don’t think you do.”

Sander has a denial ready, but it dies in his throat. He doesn’t have the energy to protest and argue, not with his medication finally feeling like it’s kicking in, and not when Lucas will just see right through him. “I know,” is all he manages to say, hoarsely.

“Do you?”

“I do. But don’t you also think...I don’t know. Maybe if I was thinking more clearly, I would have gotten us out of there sooner, or I could have fought them off—“

“But Robbe couldn’t?”

Sander swallows. This is precisely why he didn’t want to argue, because he knew Lucas would go for all his sense and logic and pick Sander’s points apart at the seams. Sander doesn’t have any retorts prepared.

“Sander, I get how you feel, but you know he wants to protect you too, right?” Lucas asks softly. He gets even quieter as he continues. “You know you were hurt, too.”

“This woman gave me a weird look today, when I was at the cafe with Robbe,” Sander tells him. “And I was just so relieved she didn’t actually say anything and he didn’t see.”

Lucas lets out another breath, and there’s a rustling of sheets. “I wouldn’t tell him, either.”

Sander lowers his voice to a whisper. “Why doesn’t it matter how long it’s been? Robbe and I go back to the bar all the time now, and it’s fine, it doesn’t bother us.”

“But you don’t have to be there to think about it, so it bothers you anyway, at the most random times.”

Sander closes his eyes.

“It’s okay, Sander,” Lucas murmurs.

“I told Robbe not to go to the police. That they’d never catch the guys, that shit just happens. Like it was nothing, like we just have to get over it.”

“I’m sure he knows that isn’t what you meant.”

“No, but he doesn’t know what I did mean. He doesn’t know that I didn’t want my dad to be taking our statement and know about another way that I fucked up. I didn’t want to have made another mistake, I didn’t want it to be my fault for finding trouble, I—“

“Sander, stop,” Lucas says sternly. “I can hear your voice cracking. You need to breathe, okay? Take a minute. It’s fine.”

Sander struggles to obey, abandoning his rant to take another deep breath, like he’d always been taught. Lucas doesn’t say anything, but his own breaths seem to get louder. The steady rhythm filters into Sander’s ears and eases its way towards his lungs. He closes his eyes, but his mind is still conjuring too many unpleasant images, so he opens them again and looks for something to focus on in the dim, moonlit room. He settles on the photographs framed on his nightstand. One from when he was a child, both his parents next to him, and the other much more recent. That first afternoon he’d spent in Robbe’s room, the two of them locked away in their bubble, talking about universes and films and thoughts. Well over a year ago, now, and he still remembers it so clearly. Robbe’s arms draped around his shoulders, kissing the top of Sander’s head while Sander pulls a stupid face. Robbe so caring, so indulgent, even then.

“That’s better,” Lucas speaks up again.

Sander lets out a shaky sigh. “Sorry.”

“You never talk to anyone about how much it affected you, do you? Aside from the first time you told me about it, you don’t let yourself be upset.”

“It’s Robbe,” Sander says, somewhat hopelessly, unsure that he’s making any sense at this point. “How could I not love him? What’s so bad about it?”

“Nothing,” Lucas says, sure and steady. “Nothing at all, Sander.”

A tear Sander hadn’t even noticed was building slips down his cheek, and he lets it, waits until it seeps into the pillow before wiping the dampness from his skin. They both stay quiet, but the simple presence of his friend is enough to be calming. He’s somewhat glad he hadn’t called Robbe, though he longs for nothing more than to go to him, and the key still tucked in his fist is enough permission. But he doesn’t want to talk to Robbe about this, not anymore, not again. Not when it could do harm rather than good, could bring sadness without any relief.

It’s a relief, to tell Lucas, who understands but won’t be hurt by it in the same way. Who knows Sander almost as well and has been in a similar position and who won’t cry just because he does.

“You never told your parents about it, did you?” Lucas asks. It’s not judgmental, but it’s clear he knows the answer already.

“Would you have, if you didn’t have to for Jens?”

He hears Lucas’s soft huff. “Probably not. But that doesn’t mean I’m not glad that they know.”

“It’s not the same, though. You didn’t lie to them about why you came home beat up. You didn’t have to.”

“No. I was lucky, I know that. But that could just mean I’m a lot more to blame for what happened to us than you are for such a random, hateful attack. I lied to my dad, too. He didn’t know Jens and I were together, and if I hadn’t been at his house, his dad would never have found out. Or at least, it might not have been as shockingly bad.”

“No,” Sander argues, again, but it’s difficult with Lucas using his own logic against him.

Lucas sighs; Sander can picture him shaking his head. “Maybe if I’d told dad earlier, Jens wouldn’t have had to run off, and I wouldn’t have felt so shitty. But I know even if I’d never brought it up, it would still feel like a relief to tell him today.”

Sander purses his lips, and doesn’t say anything.

“You can be upset, or angry, or hurt, or whatever you want. And you can talk about it. That’s how you move on, Sander.”

“Robbe and I have already talked about it so many times,” Sander sighs. Then he admits, “But never like this.”

Lucas hums. “He’ll understand, better than me. And he can handle it just as well. You know that. But thank you, for telling me. You always can.”

“I know,” Sander mumbles. Somewhere in the past couple of minutes, his eyelids have started drooping. “Thank you.”

“Did it help? At all?”

Sander presses into his pillow and lets out a breath. “Yeah. I actually think it did.” It hasn’t really changed anything, he knows, and it’ll come up again eventually no matter how much he tells himself it’s in the past and he’s moved on. The weight of the memory isn’t gone, but it feels lighter, somehow. Like admitting it’s not okay is starting to make it so.

“Good.” He can hear the smile in Lucas’s voice. “Are you falling asleep now?”

Sander can’t do much more than hum.

Lucas laughs quietly. “Okay. Get some rest, dumbass.”

“Are you okay?” Sander thinks to ask. “You were up, that’s why I called.”

“I’m going to sleep now, too,” Lucas promises. “I think you helped me as well.”

“Okay,” Sander sighs. “Night, Luc.”

“Bye, Sander.”

Sander waits a moment even after he hears the call run out, then lets his hand slip away from his ear slowly. He sets the phone aside, stretching his arm out to the nightstand, but keeps a hold of the key. He brings it closer to his chest and sucks a breath in, then lets it out, and finally relaxes. He doesn’t have to go to Robbe, he convinces himself. But he can—he really can, any time he wants to, and that’s more than enough.

He’s asleep in seconds.

~^~

previous/next

#wtfock #sobbe #sander driesen #lucas van der heijden #sander season #tracing time #idk if i like this clip so it’s being posted in the middle of the night 🤪

[raeisgrayte]

Must Be Fa(e)te~ Chapter One

There was a fable my mother used to tell me all the time when I was a little girl. It was about a regal queen, a noble monarch who lead her people with pride, though I always thought the princess was my favorite character. She was a warrior who fought in the great war against the human realm. She was someone who stood up for what she thought was right, like fighting against the humans polluting the beautiful springs that the merfolk of Wellspring lived in. The best part about the princess though, was her rainbow wings. My mother told of how the princess only used them when absolutely necessary. She was more of a walking girl, she liked taking walks through the forest's abundant beauty. She was magical, too magical. That's how I knew my mom was making this up as she went.

I only wish it were true, then maybe I could actually blame a real life person for making me the homosexual I am today. Instead when people ask about my "awakening" I have to tell them I fell in love with a made-up fairy princess when I was 3. Usually they giggle and agree that they knew it at a young age too, but some want to know more about the story. I always tell them, it's a good story after all. It leaves my lips turned up in a smile afterwards, thinking about magic and gay shit.

God how I yearn for some excitement around this town. We all just walk around with somewhere to go. I never saw someone stop by to smell the roses unless they were with a loved one. I let out a large sigh, putting my left hand on the wooden counter in my grandfather's pop up flower shop, Love You Florever. It was a play on the word floral, but I think everyone I tell about the flower shop understands, I just want to make sure. There are the people who give me a strange look and then those who seem genuinely happy that my grandfather was such a punster. I miss him.

I hear the ding of the bell before I can go into one of those really sad moments where I start thinking about all the lovely memories I had with my grandad. I will not be having a sad montage in my head today! Not after what happened last time. I'm still stuck in my thoughts, trying to be funny, when I hear someone clear their throat. I cringe at how awkward I must look right now laughing at my own jokes, inside my head. "Ahaha, heyyyyyy, welcome to Love You Florever! Would you like to-" My brain short circuits when I finally meet the gaze of the goddess who has stepped foot into the shop. Oh lawdy I'm about to faint. She has beautiful almond brown eyes with a mole under her left eye. I'm drawn to the envious length of her lashes and how they brush gently against her cheeks as she blinks. She has short ebony hair that shimmers in the setting sunlight. Her lips curve up in a smile and she tilts her head curiously.

"Would I like to what?" She teases, a small laugh leaving her mouth. That's it, I give up. If there is a God I'm coming to visit you real soon. This girl was beautiful and her voice is so smooth I thought my brain was oozing out of my ears. I feel my face start to flush from embarrassment.

"Oh-um, sorry. I have trouble thinking sometimes." I laugh and scratch the back of my neck nervously.

"Like a medical thing?" She questions, her eyes flashing with concern like she had offended me. My eyes go wide and I shoot out my hand shaking it in a 'no' manor.

"No no no no, oh god no! You're fine, I  mean like my brain just-" I hit my head softly to insinuate that I'm just a dumb gay bitch, "you know, doesn't work? Especially around pretty women- I mean," I drag my hand down my face. "Fuck." I whisper through gritted teeth. This makes her laugh loudly, so much that she wipes her eyes. She lays a hand down on the counter and grins at me.

"Thank you and I totally get the whole brain malfunction thing." She smirks as her eyes search my face. I feel like she's trying to indirectly tell me something. After an awkward amount of silence she bends her other hand at the wrist in the viral tik-tok "hey I'm gay" gesture. If this were a movie I'd look into the camera as everything pauses and I'd say oh my god, a gay.

I shake my head in understanding now. "Ah." I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a small chuckle. "I'm so sorry, um, would you like to buy anything?" I ask with a smile. I was running the store after all. I had to try to make some money. Her lips lift in a big smile and she suddenly looks nervous.

"Well, actually I came in here because you were the only flower I saw in here." First off, rude. She covers her face as a blush starts to form. Second of all, awww. I didn't really know what to say. I mean I could tell she was trying to hit on me, but her game was a little off. We'd just met and I don't know if she's a killer or something- oh who am I kidding?

"Oh really? That sounds about right to me." I smile as her face lights up.

"Oh gosh! I was so nervous but also confident that you weren't straight. I was so scared that I had misjudged you and there would be this whole thing-" Bo Burnham's Welcome to the Internet starts playing and I scramble to find my phone. I look at her apologetically as I finally find my phone buzzing in my back pocket. I see that it's my mom calling me, she knows I'm working the store today. I instantly answer it and turn away from the girl.

"Ello stinky, what are you doing calling me at work?" I ask in a posh British accent. I wait for my mom to reply, but all I hear is silence. Oh my goodness, did she butt dial me? "Mom? Are you there?" A whisper of anxiety drips into my stomach.

"Oralee, did you use my shampoo?" The sound of her voice calms the panic and I roll my eyes simultaneously. Funny how that works. Her shampoo?

"Are you talking about when I took a shower this morning? The strawberry stuff?" I question. I can almost hear my mother's annoyed groan.

"Yes the strawberry stuff, you know I'm going on a date tonight. My hair has to smell like strawberries! You know this." I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.

"I didn't know you were going on a date tonight. When did that happen? I thought you were done with men and no I didn't use your shampoo." I reply curtly. I hear some shuffling around in the background and then it clears.

"Listen you know I haven't been getting any-"

"Mom! Oh my god! Shut up shut up!" I yell into the phone. I shudder with disgust at the thought of my mom speaking like she was a teen again. I hear her laughing at my pain and I almost hang up. "I cannot believe you, what is wrong with you!?"

"Hey nothing is wrong with me okay? I'm just a bisexual mother who needs two or three people to comfort me in the ways of the b o d y." She whispers the last part and I feel my whole body want to shrivel up and die.

"I cannot believe you. You're a tyrant." I hiss.

"But you love me." She quips.

"Yeah, I do. Now I have to go mom, I have a customer." I smile as I turn around.

"Ooou! Tell me all about her when you get home! Love you!" She yells and before I can ask her how she knew it was a girl she hangs up. I finally look up but the girl that was there before is now gone. I close my eyes and groan. There's goes any hope at living a happy life with a beautiful wife and a dog. I flop down in my swivel chair and continue to watch all the people walk past my beautiful flowers. Everyone was too busy getting somewhere, but I knew one day they'd rush in through my doors wanting some romantic flowers. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. Yeah, that day will come.

+          +          +          +          +

"Lee do you like this one?" My mother holds up a small red dress with a low v-neck. Her eyebrows wiggle and I can tell she really likes this one.

"Well, let's see it on." I grin as she giddily runs into her ensuite bathroom and shuts the door. I lay back on her bed wishing I had asked that girl to wait for me to finish my phone call. Oh well, I guess it wasn't meant to be. Like most situations with girls, it never ended well for me. There was that time I had a major crush on the barista that worked in the Starbucks across the street from the shop. I convinced myself she had to be gay with how many rings and piercings she had. Turns out that was just how she liked to express herself and I learned quickly that assuming makes an ass out of you and me. You should never place feelings or sexualities on someone you don't know. You shouldn't even do that to someone you do know. Such as myself, I don't like to label myself as bisexual or lesbian, I'm more off the grid I guess. I like men okay, but then some days I will literally vomit at the thought of the male touch. It changes with the breeze to be honest. I just enjoy people's company and if something happens then I guess it does. Though, it never has. My mom has told me the day will come when I want to go serious with someone, but I'm pretty sure she was drunk when she told me that. Honestly I wish I was drunk when she told me that because then I wouldn't have to think that I'm such a failure at this romance shit.  

"So? What do we think?" Mom spins out of the bathroom and into the last bit of sunlight shining through her window. Wow, she looks absolutely gorgeous. I can't help but cover my mouth to hide the smile I have. The dress brushes at her knees and curves up her hips to support her larger than average chest.

"You look gross." I purse my lips and put on my best mean girl face on. She laughs and pushes my shoulder.

"Thanks Lee, I'll be heading out soon. Make sure you take care of Mirage, you know how she likes to let us know when we didn't feed her." I nod and watch as she goes to get ready for a night out. I didn't really care if she went out, I was used to being alone. In fact I appreciated some alone time here and there like everyone else. It was comforting to just be able to scream musical songs without the fear my mom would come join me.

"I'm going to head into my room!" I call into the bathroom. I hear her hum in acknowledgement so I turn on my heel and head towards her door. Mirage, our ragdoll cat purrs as she wraps her body around my legs, nearly tripping me. I grin and bend down to pet her. "Hey girl, you saying bye to mom too? She's going out to find some relief. She's been stressed lately for some reason, but we're going to behave and be nice to her. Right?" Mirage mews at me and I can tell there is nothing behind those eyes. She was just happy to be here. I chuckle and stroke her head. I decide to pick her up and take her with me into my room. I struggle to open my bedroom door with Mirage in my arms, but manage finally to swing open the door. I sigh as I smell the mango air freshener. I set Mirage down on my pink comforter that has a white swirling pattern. Mirage plops down with her muzzle burrowed under the blanket. I smile to myself, it's been a pretty nice Saturday.

I was about to sit down in my desk chair to chill and play some Minecraft, but I realize that I need to close my curtains or else I'm going to forget it all together and I know I'll curse myself in the morning if I don't do it now. I sigh and walk over to my two windows. The purple curtains flutter in the ac gracefully, almost like they're dancing. I grab hold of one of them ready to shut, but as I happen to look out of my window I start to notice someone in the middle of the road. A chill runs down my spin, it was creepy for someone to just be standing there. They could be waiting for someone I guess, but why in the middle of the road? There's a low feeling in the pit of my stomach, but I can't help the peak of curiosity I also feel. After all, my mother was about to go out, I want to make sure she'll be safe. It was a wonderful yet horrible thing that my curiosity would get the best of me every time. I'd so be the first one in a horror movie to just open a random door and get shanked. Anyway, that's not what we should be thinking about right now.

I pear out the glass to try and get a better look at this mystery person. I study their frame, noticing that their back is to me. I tilt my head to try and get a better look, but my eyes widen when I see what looks like them turning their head to look right at me. I audibly gasp as I stumble backwards and trip over the corner of my desk. I thud to the ground and curse under my breath. I rub my back where I hit it on my desk chair. What the fuck was that? I must be so tired I'm starting to see things. I sigh and then laugh at myself. Oralee Turner you cannot just manifest some person in the middle of the road looking right at you. Those are not good vibes. Plus you're not the main character girly, calm down. I mean sure you could be a main character if you put in a little effort but come on let's be real. You'd need to really work on the woe is me mentality. I brought out of my thoughts when I hear my mother's soothing voice behind me.

"Are you okay sweetie? I heard a noise." My mom appears in the doorway and I giggle at her frantic look. This makes her look even more worried. It's fine mom I didn't hit my head.

"Yeah I'm all good, I just need to go to bed I guess. I'm so tired I guess I forgot objects can trip me." I nod my head towards my desk. She clicks her tongue in empathy.

"Did you hurt yourself?" She leans into the room looking for any sign of injury. I shake my head slowly.

"I just bumped my back into the legs of my chair." I grimace as my back throbs.

"Oh hon, I can stay home and put some ice on that? I'll cancel my plans and we can watch a movie together." Her eyes frantically search my face for an answer.

"Mom I'm 18 years old, I think I can ice my own back, but thank you." I smile to try and calm her nerves. I want her to go out and have some fun. She deserved it. She sighs loudly and just when I think she's going to let it go there's a knock on our door. Mirage perks up and mom and I make eye contact. "Door to door service?" I smirk mischievously. I can tell she wants to say something more about our previous conversation, but another knock at the door calls her attention elsewhere.

"We'll talk more when I get home Lee." She turns to walk away but as if she has one last thing to say, she turns back. "Also, she seems like the kind of gal to walk me to her car and such. That's something you should want in someone. A lot of people don't do that now a days you just need to-"

"Mom, oh my gosh just go." I shake my head and try to shoo her away with a hand motion. She rolls her eyes but does as I suggest. I hear a distant voice and debate on meeting this mystery woman, but decide against it. I don't want to ruin the whole thing my mom probably has going. I also don't want this woman to think my mom is a- oh god- a milf. Before I can fold in on myself I hear a notification sound from my phone, which lays forgotten on my bed. "Hey Mirage would you mind growing a human hand to hand me my phone?" Mirage looks me in my eyes and as if directly telling me to fuck off, she hops off my bed and pads over to my closet. "Bitch." I grumble.

I heave myself off the ground with a grunt, only to flop myself down onto my bed. I somehow manage to grab my phone from under my leg. I wonder who would've texted me. I curiously unlock the phone and see a message from my best friend Tabitha.

Tabby: Hey! Let me know if you can make it to the party nerd!

I close my eyes and groan into my pillow. Social interactions in this day and age? No thank you. I'd rather go outside and touch some grass.

Buttface: I'm not sure if Phelo will let me :(

Tabby: You could just go anyway >:( Come on! I'll even drive you!

Buttface: I don't know Tabs, I just feel like it's going to be like last time all over again. You'll be the only one I know and you'll try to set me up with the one lesbian that'll be there. And before you say anything, no- I don't want to loose my virginty to some rando. That's not something cool I want to do.

Tabby: Oh come on that was one time and I said I was sorry :((( She won't even be here this time so you don't have to worry about spilling a drink on her again lol.

Buttface: I will kill you if you mention that once more :} Also fine, since you're a needy bitch I guess I'll stop in. When and where is it again?

Tabby: Don't worry about it, remember I said I'll pick you up! Just be ready around 6 tomorrow :)

Buttface: A Sunday night party? Really? We'll have school the next day.

Tabby: :)

God I wish she was the one with anxiety instead of me. I purse my lips as I remember how many things Tabitha has gotten me into. Like that one time she and I were walking in the park and someone yelled out that we were lesbians and she started to cry. I mean, who does that? Kind of scared me to be honest, I never want to walk with a girl anywhere ever again. Well, no that'd be a lie since women are goddesses and I am a simp.

It's then that I hear another buzz come from my phone. I almost don't look at it, I don't want Tabitha to have sent me something weird. When I look at my screen it's a message from an unknown number. I knit my brows together as I tap the message.

(xxx)xxx-xxxx: Hi, I hope this is Oralee Turner, if not that'd be awkward. You can just delete my message if you aren't her. If you are though, please respond with verification of your identity.

Verification? Who was this? How'd they get my number? This better not be another Tabitha set up. I swear one day I'm going to lock that girl in a room with some random guy I find on the street. I will actually not be doing that because men are scary, especially those who you don't know. I'm about to set my phone down and ignore this obvious scammer message, but for some very odd reason I text them back.

Oralee: Hi? This is she, I don't have your number saved in my phone. Who is this if you don't mind me asking? I don't feel comfortable sharing any information with a complete stranger :( Have to make sure you're not a scammer.

(xxx)xxx-xxxx: I understand completely! Of course you'd be cautious of an unknown number! Let me share some things that might make you a little more comfortable with who I am :) My name is Zandra Dominika and I'm 19 years old. I have your number because of your mother, Phelo Turner! I promise I'm not trying to scam you lol, just reaching out to see how your doing!

I think once I know someone is a female I instantly feel safer. It's... not the best feeling to acknowledge that, but then again it's good to still be aware of your surroundings. This person could still try to hurt me, plus they know my mom's name! That's absolutely fucked. I can't trust them right now. Why would I give them any personal information when they are most likely lying to me right now? Though the name Zandra did sound weirdly familiar. Like I knew it from a distant memory or something. Maybe I had seen it in my mom's memory book? I'd have to go check that out later.

(xxx)xxx-xxxx: I know you're probably taking so much time because you still think I'm a scammer, which is good! It shows that you're careful and smart! I'm glad you're not willing to send birthdates and shit to some rando. I'm not sure how I could prove to you that I'm not a scammer. I also know that I most likely scared you off with how I knew your mom. I could explain that if you'd be willing to listen?

Listen? I mean... I could do that, but no! This could be a ploy to get more information from my phone...or... they could be telling the truth. Damn it! I frown to myself, moving my thumbs to make the number a contact.

Oralee: It seems you know a lot about how I'm feeling and already have some information about me. I think this is all the recognition you need, but my curiosity does always get the best of me. Go ahead, tell me how you know my mother's name and how you got my number.

Zandra the randa: Okay... well I just knew how I would feel if someone randomly messaged me asking all these questions and knowing all these things lol. Anyways, I know your mom because she simply knows my mother. They go way back, like further than you're probably thinking right now. We've actually met before but I think you forgot lmao. We were really close actually, we didn't want to leave each other's side. Your mom is still in contact with mine so obviously I was curious how you were and asked for your number. I do think this is Oralee now so no recognition is needed anymore. I... uh... missed you a lot. It's lonely here.

I have to set my phone down for a second. What? I have a long lost friend? I really didn't see that one coming. I usually wasn't the one for making friends. I guess that gives me some explanation as to why I thought her name was so familiar. I'm going to ask mom to help me find that memory book when she gets home. That brings me back to what Zandra had last said. It's lonely here. What did she mean by that? Did she not live in our state? I wonder where she lives, maybe Montana? I'm going to ask her.

Oralee: So we used to know each other... I'm sorry I don't remember that at all honestly, but when my mom gets home I'm going to try and find some pictures if we have any. Maybe that'll help strike a cord in my brain. I do have a question though, where do you live? You make it sound like we're really far away :(

I straighten myself out on my bed, waiting patiently for a response, but one never seems to come. I wait for a good 10 minutes before deciding to do something other than just waiting. It wasn't healthy to get attached so quickly. I bite my lip. I wonder what she looks like. No, Lee there's no time to be gay now. Mom will be home soon and then you can look in the memory book.

I hope she's hot. You know, there are some days I wish I could just shut my thoughts off, especially the horny ones. She's got to at least be into DND, you know? If she can't enjoy be chaotic while being a mythical creature, I don't want it. DND was a way I could believe in small amounts that fairies are real. I smirk to myself as I think about all the times I tried to seduce something in our campaign.

"Lee? Are you awake? Honey I'm coming up!" I feel my body jolt from the sudden rush of adrenalin. Jesus, I guess my mom is home now. I didn't even hear the door open or a car pull up.

"Yeah I'm awake mom! I'll meet you in the hall." I hoist myself off the bed and shake my head. Shit, I didn't even know what time it was. It's nearly midnight and I have a shift tomorrow at the shop. I'm so fucked. I walk to my door and open it swiftly. I'm met with my mother leaned up against the wall across from it. She smiles sweetly at me, her eyes sparkling with delight.

"I missed you Lee." She holds her arms open for a hug and I instantly accept it.

"You too stinky. I hope you had a good night." I enjoy the smell of my mother, how it calms down my senses. It makes me want to cuddle with her all night watching movies, almost like what she suggested earlier. Shit! I never iced my back! That's going to hurt in the morning!

"Oh I did, it was long." I feel my body tense and I back away from her. My face scrunches up in disgust.

"Mom! God I don't want to hear about your night in that much detail!" I plug my ears like a child and shake my head vigorously.

"Meh, your loss." She shrugs and I can tell she wants to go to sleep. Her eyes are half lidded and she looks very loopy.

"If you're done, I do have a question. Where is that memory book you made when I was little? I got a text tonight from someone named Zandra Dominika. Do you know her?" I question, motioning towards her. She seems to suddenly wake up. Her eyes widen slightly as she processes what I just told her.

"Did you say Zandra finally reached out to you? Well thank fucking god, took her long enough. She's had your number for like 4 years. I thought ya'll would start where you left off, but I can see by your vacant expression that you don't know what I'm talking about." She smiles with a small chuckle. "Well, how about we talk about it tomorrow night okay? You and I can have some finger foods and maybe even some drinks. Talk for a while. I'll explain things to you clearly." She grins and gestures to my room. "Now, what do you say we get some sleep?" She nods and shuffles towards her room.

Well...how am I going to be two places at once? Do I want to go to a party or sit and veg out with my mom. Definitely the latter, but I have to go to the party, I promised Tabs. I'm just going to have to make both work!

+          +          +          +          +

It was Sunday afternoon before I could think of an excuse to miss Tabitha's party. Ugh, why'd she have to be such a good friend. Yeah she's made plenty of mistakes in our friendship, but so have I. I've known her forever, I can't just let her down by telling her I'd come to her party and then not going. I know it shouldn't matter, but I just don't want to deal with her mad at me on top of trying to figure out who the hell Zandra was. My mom seemed to like her enough I guess, but was that just a mom thing? Was I really close to this girl or is my mom trying to get me a girlfriend? I purse my lips as I give that a little more thought. Nah, my mom isn't the type to do that, she's not that desperate to please her gay daughter. She knows relationships, especially those of the gay variety have to take time. They have to happen naturally, not by some silly match making friend. It makes both parties feel very uncomfortable.

"Miss? I'd like to buy those now." I hear someone say. It was a guy about my age who looked pretty nervous. He had that all time popular floofy hair and had sun kissed skin. His eyes were an emerald green, like how you'd see algae in a pond. His face looks like someone took brown paint and scattered freckles all over it. I smile in my customer satisfaction smile.

"Of course! Sorry I was just lost in thought about something going on." I laugh lightly to try and make this situation less awkward.

"Yeah I totally get it! I'm not sure what flowers she'll like, so I'm sort of freaking out about it." He looks up to meet my gaze, his emerald eyes lighting up. "Hey do you think a mysterious type of girl who doesn't really like flowers would like these?" He holds up black nemophilas. I smirk to myself. Did he really have to pick such a literal meaning for a flower? I think this guy is way over his head. He shouldn't be buying flowers for this girl, he should be taking her to watch the stars. She seems like the kind of girl to like that.

"Well, those flowers have a secret meaning, you wanna know what it is?" I raise my brows like I'm about to whisk this guy into a crazy story about how these flowers got their name. He nods his head frantically. "Those are black Nemophilas, they usually are small beautiful flowers, but can bloom in all white, pink, white with some purple, or like what you have there. They're called black Nemophilas but they actually look purple with white around the edges of the petals right? Although it's cooler to think that they bloomed black. They're mostly grown as a houseplant because of their resistance to freezing temperatures." I grin widely. I get so happy talking about flowers. I meet his eyes again and he looks extremely happy.

"Shit. Thank you so much. I'm sure she'll love these." He smiles kindly and for the first time in a while, I see him lift the buds to his nose. He takes a small whiff in and a grin spreads across his face. "It smells like sweat." He laughs.

"I-uh... yeah, they're not known for smelling too nice." I stumble over my words, still shocked that someone actually stopped to smell a flower in my shop. They were always too busy buying the flowers to care about what they smelled like. It seemed like the first time someone had cared enough to take time out of their day to smell the flowers. Instead of picking up the prettiest rose and whisking it away without a second glance my way.

I gulp in, not knowing why him smelling a flower got to me so much. "Uh, yeah if you'll just set them down here I'll get them prepared for you to take." I nod curtly and whisk around to the preparation counter. It has scissors, shears, a spray bottle, and some other gardening things. Get it together Lee.

"Thanks so much for this by the way. Pretty sure she's going to fall in love with me because of the sweaty flowers. My name is Elijah, I think we go to school together." I feel my back tense. Great, he goes to my school.

"Yeah?" I say over my shoulder. "What grade are you in?" I ask. Lee why are you continuing the conversation? You don't even like to talk to your cat most of the time.

"I'm a junior, struggling in Mrs. Groution's English class." I can almost hear the smile in his voice. "You're a senior right?" He prods. Dear lord he has seen me around school.

"Yup!" I reply politely. "I'm just ready to get out of here and graduate you know? I have the case of senioritis bad." What I said was honest. I didn't like my high school. It was filled with fake kids and even more fake adults. We had a "zero tolerance" for bullying, yet some of my friends can tell me stories they've heard that says otherwise. It was just an overall distaste for the whole putting on looks situation. A school wasn't supposed to use kids like that, I absolutely hated it. His voice takes me out of thought and back to the situation at hand. I was having an interaction, I needed to focus on that, no matter how much I wanted to hide from it. There were days like this, the ones where I didn't want to be around people at all, but other days it's better to be around them so I can thrive off of some energy people give off.

"You seem a bit lost in though, I'm sorry I can just get out of your hair." He laughs, but I can tell he's a little hurt by the fact I'm so lost in thought. I feel bad even though I barely know the guy.

"Nah, I'm just a deep thinker you know? I get lost in thought very easily. I'm not the best in social situations face to face." I turn to give him a genuine smile. I see his eyes light up again. Good, he feels better.

"Oh no I totally get how that feels. I hate how our school does this whole," he instantly puts on a fake posh accent, "We have the smartest and happiest kids." He lets out a chuckle afterwards. "Little do they know that half of us are depressed and the other half are too busy peaking in high school to be bothered by their sadness." I turn to look him in the eyes, mine growing wider by the second. We make eye contact and then suddenly burst into laughter. My word, he does get it. Shame on me for assuming Elijah and I would have nothing in common. After a bit I can finally breathe again from laughing so hard. I wipe my eyes still giggling lightly.

"Here are your flowers Elijah, good luck." I smile as he graciously takes the flowers and waves enthusiastically to me as he leaves. The smile stayed on my lips for the rest of my work day. Then it was time for me to get ready for Tabitha's party. Joy to the world.

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I ended up wearing something comfortable over cute. If anyone had issue with it, I'd just tell them to fuck off. Well, not actually, I'd just think it. I was in some black sweats with a stretchy maroon shirt. I slipped my off brand crocs I got from a farmers market with my mom a couple years ago and a cute anklet. I pull my hair up in a pony to keep it mostly out of my face. I had normal blonde hair that was naturally pretty curly, but I had a Great Aunt who would give me perms every once in a while. Noting this, I pull some curly strands to frame my face so it didn't look so round. I put on a dangly bracelet and my chain necklace. I'm overall happy with my look, but I'm sure Tabitha will have something to say about it. I decide to put on some gold rings to match the chain in hopes that they'll suffice for her.

I stuff my phone and some earbuds in my pocket and then grab a few dollars out of my wallet. I could need some cash for food later, not sure. I do a once over of myself in the mirror and pat my pudgy stomach. "Oh yeah Oralee Turner you are looking sexy tonight." I give myself finger guns in the mirror and head out my door, grinning to myself like an idiot. I hop down the stairs and towards the front door. Mom hadn't come home yet from errands so I write her a quick note to let her know I'll be back a little later than midnight, seeing as it was getting close to 6 already. Speaking of the time, where the hell is Tabitha? She said was going to pick me up right? I cram my hand into my pocket to find my phone. I unlock it only to find Tabitha had texted me a couple minutes earlier.

Tabby: Hey, I can't pick you up tonight! :( I have to meet up with someone pretty soon so you're going to have to drive yourself!! Sorry babes!

I groan and turn my phone off. This was a great start to the night, because not only did I not like driving, but I was definitely not okay with my car going to a party. I angrily grab my keys from the bowl in the halltree and rush out to my car. I want to be one of the firsts ones there so I can find a good place to sit and an escape route. I start my small car and am met with my comfort station of old rock songs. Okay, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I pull out of the driveway and roll my window down. The fresh nigh air whips the tendrils of hair I pulled out around my face, it's slightly annoying, but I like the fresh air. It smells like rain and it was such a cool night. It's about a couple minutes into driving when I realize Tabitha didn't tell me where this party was being held. Damn it why am I still even trying to go to this thing? It's like I felt some kind of pull to go and I hated that Tabitha could just pull on my heart strings like that. I pull over into an abandoned parking lot and pull out my phone.

Buttface: where the fuck is this party again?

The reply is almost instant.

Tabby: Ah, it's at this jock's house. 1987 Elmore North, I think his name is Elijah, come on get here girl!!

My eyes widen and a grin spreads across my lips. You sneaky son of a bitch. Did Elijah buy those flowers for Tabs? Maybe this is why I felt such a pull to go to the party. I can get to know Elijah more and if he's that cool then maybe the people he invited are pretty cool too. I feel like a ton of bricks have been lifted off my shoulders as I set my phone down in one of the cup holders. His house was a short drive from where I was now, it would only take me about 2 minutes to get there and his neighborhood is rather large, meaning big houses, meaning there's bound to be a dog to pet. Count me truly ready to party now.

I make it to his house and hop out of my car. I feel lucky that not a lot of cars are there yet and that I can see Tabitha's. Should I have brought something? No, I did help him pick out those flowers. I subconsciously put my hands in my pockets, walking up to the backyard gate which is open. There are outside lights set up and small campfire flickering in a stone firepit. There's a deck with a grill and below ground pool near the fence line of the property. It's a pretty nice backyard, but I only see a couple people out here and none of them are anyone I know. I hurry up and spot the glass sliding door to the inside. Of course it's a glass sliding door. I clumsily wander over to the door and slide it open. I'm hit with warm air and a yelling voice coming from deeper in the house. I glance back to the group outside which consists of 2 boys and 3 girls all chatting about an English assignment. I definitely don't want to try to join in on their conversation so I step inside and shut the door from behind me.

"I thought we had something Tabby!" I hear a familiar voice yell.

"Well you don't know shit! And don't call me that! I should have never come here! Damn it!" Once I hear my friend's name I'm on my way to find her, when I do find her, I find Elijah with her. Tabitha has the flowers clutched in her hands, breaking the stems. Elijah breaks his angry stare from Tabitha when he spots me. He looks almost shocked to see me, but his demeanor changes when he puts it together that I'm not here to be on his side. "What took you so long Lee? I was waiting for you!" Tabitha stares at me with pleading eyes, her grip on the flowers hardening, I can tell by the way they droop even lower to the ground.

"I-I had to drive myself and I didn't know where I w-was going at first." I look between the two of them. "What's going on?" I shouldn't have come here. I shouldn't have come here. Why did I come here? I take a few steps backwards.

"This fucker thought flowers where his way into my pants." Tabitha hisses and tosses the flowers to the ground. I wince. I get that she was upset, but the flowers didn't do anything. They had a nice life after all, I cut and prepared them. Someone actually stopped to smell them. I got to share facts about them! I never get to do that! "Well fuck that." Before I can think she stomps the flowers into the hardwood floor. Her boot cuts into their stems and when she's done it's a mess of petals and leaves.

"I wasn't trying to get into your pants!" Elijah finally shouts. "I actually just wanted to be a gentleman because so many fucking guys out here are disgusting!" I can tell he's upset about her stepping on the flowers and her words by the way his voice wobbles and his eyes flit between the crumpled petals. I'm upset now too. I can't really tell why I'm so upset but I meet Tabitha's eyes with tears in my own. My brows are drawn into an angry expression as I glance down at the mess by her feet.

"I-they-you- those flowers had no part in this... why'd you do that? You know how I feel about flowers Tabs. They have lives too." I meet her gaze again. I want her to apologize but all she does is roll her eyes.

"They're not alive Lee, don't be such a pansy. For fuck's sake can we focus on my problems here?" She hisses. A chill runs through my body. I can feel my blood boil and freeze almost simultaneously. Elijah stares at her in disbelief.

"Fuck you." I hiss and squeeze my eyes shut. The tears finally break over the barrier and fall down my cheeks. I rush out the way I came, a sick feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

She knows how I feel about them! She knows how much they meant to my grandad. How much shit he had to go through to keep the shop going. He raised me, teaching me about the different effects flowers could have. Flowers were a language not spoken by many.

"Lee! Lee wait I'm sorry! I was angry! Lee-" I run. I run until I'm outside and shutting the door. Why'd I come here? Why'd I do it? God I was so stupid? Stupid. That's me. No no no no, fuck! I ball my fists and wipe at my face. I realize the group outside is looking my way and I curse under my breath. I turn on my heel and fast walk the fuck out of there. I try to make the tears stop falling, but they keep streaming down my face.

"Fuck, fuck, shit." I curse, then suddenly I knock shoulders with someone who grunts because of the impact. I stop in my tracks, I may be upset but my mother taught me manners. "Shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-" I finally look up to see who I bumped into. A tall girl about my age stands in front of me. She has pink hair tied into space buns and heart shaped glasses on. Her earrings are also in the shape of hearts as well as the choker she's wearing. She has high-waisted jeans on with a flowy blouse to match. She was absolutely stunning. She even had a beauty mark under her eye that stood out in the moonlight.

"It's okay," She pauses as she gets a better look at me. "A-are you okay?" Her brows instantly knit in concern. Shit, has she noticed I'm not mentally stable already?

"I-uh... yeah I'm fine." I decide to answer. "I... I'm actually going." I sigh. She purses her lips and then frowns.

"That's too bad, you seemed cool. I was hoping to talk some more." She grins. I nod in agreement.

"I am pretty cool, but I should really get going." I jab my thumb towards where my car is.

"Lee?" I whisk around to see Tabitha at the gate.

"Shit." I hiss. "See ya, I gotta go!" I yell and practically Olympic sprint to my car. I unlock my car as fast as I can and hop in. I turn the key and start to back out when I see Tabitha waving wildly in front of me. Yeah, I'm never going to another one of her 'fun' parties. I shake my head and wipe at my face. Pansy? I tense as I speed towards home. Never again.

I get home around 8:45pm and to my surprise my mom is home. I pull in behind her car and put mine in park. I don't think this night can get any worse. I get out of my car, lock it, spin my keys around my fingers a couple times, and then head towards my front door. Before I can open it, it's opened for me. "Evening sweetie, what brings you home so early?" My mother stands in the doorway with a frown on her face. I sigh and lightly push past her into the house.

"Oh you know, just too cool for the party life." I give her a fake smile and she clicks her tongue.

"That bad?" She questions. I nod and flop down on the couch. It's then that I notice the memory book on the coffee table. Her eyes light up. "Oh yes! Miss Zandra, you wanted to see a picture of her right? Now, since you're home so early we're going to have lots of time to look at pictures and discuss, but I need you to have an open mind." She gives me a stern look. I roll my eyes.

"Mom, I'm a gay teen, I have to keep an open mind at all times." I fire back. She pauses for a moment then nods her head in agreement. She flops down next to me grabbing one of the books. I snuggle up next to her, loving her comforting scent.

"Ah here's a good one, it's of you guys when you were little." She flips the book for me to see the picture. It's little me with that appears to be strap on fairy wings on my back, same for who I'm assuming is Zandra.

"That's her?" I point to the other little girl. She nods and coos about how cute we look. Zandra has the same sparkly dress up wings on. I chuckle at how cheap they look. Mom flips a couple pages and gasps.

"Oh and here's a more recent picture of her!" She taps the page excitedly. My eyes widen as I scan the photo in front of me. Pink hair tied back in regal braids, a white dress with gold accents trailing up the bodice, her slender arms folded in front of her, and those same sparkling wings on her back, only about four times the size. I gasp as my eyes follow what seems to be a swirling pattern in them.

"I-is she into fantasy shoots or something?" I choke over my words. She was beautiful. It takes me a moment to finally notice the glimmering gold crown around her head. It has a hanging purple jewel dangling in the middle of her forehead. My eyes trail down her face and land on a beauty mark under her eye. If my eyes could widen any more I think they did at that moment.

"Um, well not exactly sweetie, there's been something I've needed to tell you for a while now."

Of course.

#lgbtq #comedy #fashion #fairytaleliving #gay #dance #Author #love story #original story #fairies #fantasy #funny #romance #gay teen #teen #flowers #simp #bisexaul #lesbian #queen #fairytale #fandom

[howtosingit]

Fic: Ice in My Veins, Fire in My Heart

An unexpected, once-in-a-lifetime ice storm in Austin leads to a chaotic day for Carlos and the 126. 

*

Written for @911giftexchange | For @charlie-bradburyss

6K | Also on AO3

A/N: Happy Holidays, Holly! I hope this fulfills all of your “tarlos + fire fam/found family + hurt/comfort (emphasis on the hurt)” wishes. May the New Year bring you all the love and light that you deserve! 

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

The thing is, no one’s really expecting Austin to be pummeled by a once-in-a-lifetime freak ice storm.

Though rare, it’s not unheard of for the Texas panhandle to get hit by the southern tip of major storm systems that move across the Midwest, but Austin is typically too far south to really experience that kind of intense winter weather. Sometimes, they’ll have icy nights that lead to dangerous morning commutes, but that’s mostly because the majority of Austinites aren’t experienced with driving on ice-covered roads. There’s always a surplus of vehicular accidents to respond to on those mornings.

But, this is way more than that.

When TK first looks out the kitchen window, he has to do a double-take to confirm what he’s seeing, his coffee burning the back of his throat as he swallows quickly in shock. Every single inch of the world outside is covered in a shimmering layer of ice - every tree branch and leaf, every fence post and door handle; individual blades of grass find themselves trapped inside a shell of frozen water, and the back patio has turned into a miniature ice skating rink, complete with furniture coated in long, thin icicles.

He takes a moment to admire the ethereal beauty of a rare, wintery Austin, how the early morning sunlight dances across the rooftops of the neighboring houses. Then, realizing what all this ice is going to mean for the rest of his day, he glances down at his watch, cursing when he realizes what time it is.

“Babe!” he calls, grabbing two thermoses from the cupboard. He transfers his coffee into one, then fills the other. “Move faster, we’ve gotta get to work!” He quickly preps Carlos’s coffee the way he knows he likes it, then grabs a few protein bars for each of them to eat on the way to work. “Babe!” he calls again when he doesn’t hear anything from the bedroom.

“What the hell are you yelling for, TK? We still have an hour before our shifts,” Carlos gripes as he comes around the corner, uniform already on and shoes in hand. He gives TK a look of mild annoyance, his signature sass on display, and TK honestly adores him even if he is being obtuse at the moment.

Instead of answering, TK just points out the window, watching as Carlos takes in the icy spectacle, his eyes widening as his jaw drops. “Wow,” his husband breathes out, clearly in awe. Then, having the same realization that TK did, he glances down at his own watch. “Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah, I thought you might say that,” TK laughs, moving towards the hall closet to grab their coats. He reaches towards the back, finding the ice scraper that Carlos kind of made fun of him for buying a few years ago. 

“You made me coffee?” Carlos asks when he reappears, holding his green thermos.

“Of course I did.”

“Have I mentioned that I really love you?” his husband questions, pulling on his coat.

“If this is your way of apologizing for getting sassy with me, I’m going to need you to work a little harder, babe,” TK jokes, sliding up next to him and raising his chin. Carlos rolls his eyes, a smile pulling at his lips as he ducks down to press their mouths together in a gentle kiss.

“How about I give you a ride to work?” Carlos suggests, still close enough that his lips drag against TK’s as he speaks.

“That’s a very sweet offer,” TK says, staring into his husband’s twinkling brown eyes, “but you were going to do that anyway.” Carlos’s police cruiser drives better on ice, so he always drives TK to work if there are hazardous conditions. “Try again.”

“How about,” Carlos starts, his voice going deeper as he trails his lips along TK’s jaw and up to his ear, “I drive you to work now, and then when we get home later, I run you a bath to help warm you up?”

TK hums, his heart rate picking up. “Make it a bath for two, and I’ll consider all of your indiscretions forgiven.”

Carlos huffs out a laugh, moving to press another kiss to his lips. “You are quite the negotiator,” he says, stepping away and grabbing two protein bars off the counter. “I accept your terms.”

The drive to work takes twice as long as usual, Carlos driving as carefully as possible through Austin towards the fire station. The roads seem somewhat deserted, and TK wonders if most people got stuck in their driveways before they could get far enough to cause mayhem in the streets. For the most part, the ice seems to be sticking around longer than it usually does. Carlos pulls to a stop outside Ladder 126. 

“See you later?” TK asks, leaning over the console to give him another kiss.

“Probably sooner than that, I’d guess,” Carlos says, knocking their foreheads together gently, the way he always does when they’re saying goodbye at the start of a workday. TK smiles, reaching for the door and climbing out onto the slick pavement. “Be careful out there.”

“You too, officer,” TK responds, giving him a wink before closing the door. He turns, heading into the station to being what will no doubt be a non-stop day.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

Carlos is right. 

Almost immediately after his husband texts him that he made it safely to the police station, they’re called out to an accident on Lakewood Drive. When they arrive, TK spots Carlos in the distance, directing cars to use an alternate route.

A large semi-truck takes up the middle of the bridge, the trailer sitting nearly perpendicular to the tractor section. It still seems to be standing upright, so TK doesn’t immediately understand what accident they’re responding to.

“Officer,” his dad calls when Carlos spots them and starts moving their way, careful on the patches of ice that still remain on the bridge. “What’ve we got here?”

“Semi swerved a bit on the ice into the lane of oncoming traffic. Passenger car coming from the north then swerved to avoid it, completely lost control on the ice, and hit the guardrail on the passenger side,” Carlos reports, pointing in the direction of a mangled section of the barrier. “Car flipped and slid down the embankment.”

“How many passengers?” his dad clarifies, and TK can tell the way he tenses, his brain already working on a plan of action.

“Just the driver, an adult woman,” Carlos answers, his breath visible in the cold morning air. “My partner made it down to her and she’s responsive, but definitely stuck.”

“Okay,” Owen says, turning to face his team, jaw tight. “Jaws of life, everyone down. Medical will be here in a minute, let’s try to have her out for them.”

There’s a near-collective nod from all of them, but before they can move, they hear a crash in the distance. Turning, TK watches as the line of traffic becomes a danger zone of its own when an approaching car is unable to stop before it runs into the car ahead of it. Like, dominoes, the line begins to splay, cars trying to move to avoid being hit. 

“Damn,” his dad sighs, shaking his head. “Change of plan. Ryder, Strickland, Strand-Reyes, you’re down with the jaws of life. Marwani and Chavez, let’s see if we can keep things from getting worse up here.”

TK follows Judd and Paul to the truck, grabbing everything that they might need. As they head towards the damaged guardrail, he passes close to Carlos, nudging him in the side. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love to watch you work?” he says, giving his husband a wink as he moves past him. Carlos follows after him, laughing softly.

“TK, for God’s sake, will you stop flirting with your husband for one day,” Judd cries, and TK looks over to find him smiling at him, his eyes dancing with mirth. 

“Now, come on, Judd,” Paul adds, his tone teasing. “They’re just being newlyweds.”

“Newlyweds?” Judd scoffs, rolling his eyes. “They’ve been married for two years!”

“Oh, wait, you’re right,” Paul says exaggeratedly, like he’s just remembered. He turns back to TK and Carlos, now walking side-by-side, his face morphing into a look of disgust. “Stop being so in-love, it’s getting weird now.”

TK huffs out a fake laugh, his breath swirling through the air as he sticks his tongue out at his friends. They reach the top of the embankment, looking down at the wreckage. The car still seems to be pretty intact, so TK is hoping this won’t be too bad. He feels a solid hand on his back, turning to find Carlos looking at him, his face serious.

“Don’t do anything reckless down there, or I will arrest you,” he jokes, beginning to walk away.

“On what grounds?” TK gasps, his jaw dropping.

Carlos pauses, his eyebrows furrowing as he thinks about it. “Trying to give me a heart attack before I’m 35,” he finally decides, shooting TK a wink before leaving them to go help with the traffic pile-up.

It’s slow-going, but TK, Paul, and Judd finally make it down the hill to the overturned car. Paul moves over to the window, speaking to the woman, while TK and Judd set down their bags. From what he can see, it looks like it’ll be a pretty straightforward removal.

They’re just prying the door open when his dad radios that medical has arrived. TK moves back to one of his bags over by the bridge, looking for more gauze to press to their patient’s shallow head wound, when there’s a loud crack to the right. He looks over, watching as a somewhat large icicle drops from the bridge and shatters onto the frozen creek below. Looking up, he watches another icicle detach itself and rapidly fall to the ground. 

“Shit,” he says, jerking to the side to avoid another one. He feels his feet slide out from under him, unable to gain traction on the ice, and before he knows it, he’s falling flat on his back, his head slamming hard against the solid ground beneath him.

His vision swims, pain coursing through him. His stomach turns, and he feels like he’s going to be sick. He closes his eyes, trying to breath. He thinks he hears a voice in the distance, maybe Paul or Judd calling to him, but he can’t make it out. There’s another loud crack from above, and he opens his eyes just in time to watch a rather large icicle grow larger as it flies towards him.

Pain bursts from his abdomen as he lets out a gasp, his vision swimming once more as his body tries to handle all of the trauma it’s currently experiencing. He clenches his jaw tightly, refusing to let out a yell. He can handle this, he’s done pain before. Between a gunshot and falling through the floor of a house and then falling off the roof of a house just last year, he can handle this. It’s no big deal, so he’s not going to make it one.

He lifts his head, blinking to clear his vision. There are voices around him, fuzzy shapes moving in his peripherals, coming closer. He ignores them, instead looking down towards his stomach. The sight causes him to gasp again, the pain coming back full force now that he has eyes on the source.

There’s an icicle buried inside of his abdomen.

From what he can see, it looks to be as round as his fist and about two feet long, the top of it gleaming threateningly in the sunlight, almost as if it’s proud of itself for the damage it’s just done.

“Fuck,” TK moans, lowering his head as Paul and Judd finally reach his side. He still can’t hear what they’re saying, so he just looks up at the clear blue sky instead. A thought pops into his head, almost making him laugh.

Carlos is totally going to kill him for this.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

Sometimes, Carlos really hates living in Texas.

Well, that’s an oversimplification. It’s more that he hates the kind of stereotypical attitude that many straight men from Texas possess. The kind of “I’m built Texas tough” mentality that leads to reckless, dangerous, and truly annoying behavior. The kind of attitude that causes a fully-grown man responsible for a six-car pile-up to scream in his father-in-law’s face about how stupid and moronic everyone else is, including the firefighters currently fixing the mess he’s made, forcing Carlos to handcuff him and stick him in the back of his cruiser just so that they can all get a moment of peace. 

“Did you see the size of that vein in his neck?” Mateo asks as they move from car to car, making sure that everyone’s okay. “I thought he was going to collapse or something, his face was so red.”

“TK’s gonna be so upset that he missed you wrestling him to the ground,” Marjan pipes in from his other side, elbowing him in the ribs. Carlos just rolls his eyes, shaking his head.

“You know that’s not a turn-on for him, right?” 

Marjan scoffs. “Sure, okay, I definitely believe that.”

Captain Strand approaches the three of them, effectively ending the conversation. “No one’s injured in those three cars, so I told them all to sit tight until the tow truck gets here. We may be able to help them once we’ve got the driver down there stabilized.” They all nod in agreement. “Marjan, Mateo, why don’t you keep making the rounds, keep people from trying to get out of their cars. We don’t need any unexpected accidents or falls.” The two firefighters accept their orders, moving away. “You’ve got someone directing traffic further down the road?” Owen asks Carlos.

“Yeah, at Lakewood and Carpenter,” Carlos says, pointing in that direction. “We shouldn’t have any traffic through here from now on.”

Before Owen can respond, they hear a sound from the bridge. They both turn to see the ambulance arrive and begin to walk towards it, eager to fill Michelle and her team in on what’s happening. At his side, Owen radios to his team that medical has arrived and will be down soon. 

They’ve just made it onto the bridge, Michelle already making her way towards them, when they hear a shout from down below. They both freeze, trying to listen, but then can’t make out the words. Then, Owen’s radio crackles to life, Judd’s voice coming through, his words rushed.

“We need medical down here ASAP, I’ve got a firefighter down.”

Carlos feels the blood rush from his face, his heart slamming into his ribcage. He shares a look with his father-in-law, and it’s clear that they both know who Judd’s talking about.

“Talk to me, Judd. What’s going on?” Owen says, already heading to the edge of the bridge, Carlos following right behind him. 

He stops short when his eyes land on the scene below. He doesn’t even need Judd's report to confirm what he’s seeing. At the bottom of the embankment, almost under the bridge itself, he sees TK laying on the ground, unmoving, a giant shard of ice sticking out of his midsection.

He doesn’t even think before he takes off down the slope, moving as quickly as he can without falling.

“TK!” he shouts, not even sure if the other man can hear him. He finally gets to the bottom, rushing over to his side. “TK!”

Paul moves aside, allowing him to kneel down by his head. He takes his face gently in his hands, watching as TK’s eyes blink dazily, his pupils unfocused and his mouth slack. 

“Nobody jostle him,” Michelle yells, and Carlos looks up to find her and her team closing in. “We don’t want that thing to shift an inch. Paul, hold it steady for me if you can.”

Carlos stares down at the two-foot icicle currently buried in his husband’s gut. Every time TK breathes, it pulses, almost threatening to fall over. Paul reaches out and wraps his hands around the top, keeping it vertical.

“What happened?” Michelle asks, kneeling on TK’s other side as she assesses the situation.

“He slipped on the ice and fell, then the icicle came down on him before he could move out of the way,” Judd explains. 

“He might have a concussion from the fall,” Michelle mutters, moving to shine a light in TK’s drooping eyes. “Seems likely. Rosewater, take over for Paul, Gillian, see if you can stabilize our patient in the car over there. Carlos,” she says, and his eyes snap up to look at her. “I need you to talk to him okay, try to keep him awake and responding. He could go into shock at any minute, and that’s not going to help us.”

He nods, ducking down to press his face closer to the one that he gets to wake up to every day. “Hey, baby,” he says softly, stroking TK’s forehead. “Hey, it’s me. Can you open your eyes for me? Just open your eyes for a minute, okay?”

TK moans, his eyes blinking rapidly a few times before he opens them enough for Carlos to see those green irises that he loves so much. “Carlos?” he mumbles.

“Yeah, hey, it’s me, I’m right here,” Carlos says, his voice a little unsteady as he tries to stay calm. “How are you feeling?”

“Cold,” TK mutters, his breath creating wisps of steam in the air above him. 

“Any pain?” Carlos asks, his eyes shifting down to glare at the icicle for a moment. 

“My head hurts,” TK admits, letting out a small gasp. 

“Anywhere else?”

TK shakes his head, his eyes darting everywhere.

“That’s probably the adrenaline,” Michelle interjects. She stands up, surveying the bridge above them. “I’m worried his body heat’s going to start melting that icicle faster than we want it to. We’ve gotta get him up there.”

“I don’t think we can get him up the slope without jostling him too much, there’s too much ice,” Tim says. 

Michelle turns to Owen, her face grave. “Get the ladder ready, Captain, we’re gonna have to lift him.”

With only a quick, wide-eyed glance down at his son, Owen shoots back up the hill, Judd following him. Off to the side, Carlos sees that Paul and Nancy have managed to remove the driver from the vehicle.

“Carlos?” TK says, and he quickly looks back down at his husband, running his thumbs along his cheek. 

“Yeah, Ty, I’m right here,” Carlos assures him, his bottom lip wavering. 

“I’m a little scared,” TK admits, his eyes glassy as he stares up at him. “It looks pretty bad, doesn’t it?”

“You’re gonna be okay, cariño,” he says, his voice hard and clear. 

“You look scared,” TK tells him, raising a hand to touch Carlos’s mouth.

“I’m not scared, I promise,” Carlos lies, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m never scared when I’m with you.”

TK doesn’t respond. He just stares up at Carlos, eyes still unfocused, a wide smile taking over his face. 

Minutes later, the team loads TK up on a stretcher with no major problems, and for one shining moment, Carlos thinks everything’s going to be fine. 

He climbs up the embankment as fast as he can to meet him at the top, Michelle at his side. She’s telling him that she’s called for another medical team to come for the driver, who thankfully doesn’t appear to be in critical condition, when they hear a shout from Tim.

“Damn it,” Michelle says, running towards where TK’s stretcher is now laying on the pavement. Carlos follows, his heart back in his throat, and the sight that greets them nearly causes him to collapse. 

“Tim, apply as much pressure as you can,” Michelle says, throwing her hands on TK’s abdomen, blood rushing from where the icicle has shifted. “We have to get him in the van, we’ll have a better chance of stabilizing him there.” 

Carlos watches as TK’s head lists to the side, his eyes dropping closed.

“He’s crashing, let’s move people!” Michelle shouts.

There’s a mad rush all around him, but Carlos barely comprehends it. All he can do is stare at his husband, his unmoving body, the blood draining from his face while simultaneously gushing from the wound in his stomach. 

He doesn’t feel the way his knees hit the pavement, or Marjan’s arms around him. He doesn’t feel the tears falling on his cheeks, or the way he starts to shake. He doesn’t even feel the cold, unfamiliar Austin air. 

As TK is pulled away from him, he doesn’t feel anything at all. 

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

TK wakes up in the hospital.

At this point, it all feels very familiar. Every hospital room seems to smell the same, sterile and uninviting. The sheets are scratchy, which coordinates nicely with the scratchy hospital gown they have him wearing. He can hear the gentle beeping from the monitor next to him, and feel the pinch of an IV in his left arm. 

TK opens his eyes slowly, staring up at the ceiling as he assesses his current state. The lights are low, but it still takes him a minute to adjust, his head faintly throbbing. He recalls how much his head hurt on the scene, how his vision went blurry, and assumes he got a concussion from his fall.

He shifts slightly, gasping as the movement pulls at his midsection and an intense pain radiates throughout his entire body. The sound causes a weight against his right arm to shift, and he looks down, his eyes immediately softening at the sight before him.

Carlos is seated next to the bed, his body bent so that he can rest his head against TK’s arm, which he’s also gripping with one of his hands. His other hand is awkwardly linked with TK’s own, their fingers threaded tightly together. Carlos’s face is turned towards him, his eyes closed as he rests. TK notices how puffy his eyes are, and how his skin is more pale than usual. His heart sinks in his chest, an intense guilt masking his own pain as he stares down at the man he loves more than anything.

Before he can even think about how much pain it might cause, he lifts his left arm across his body to run his fingers through Carlos’s dark brown curls. It’s his favorite thing to do on the rare occasions where he’s the first one to wake up in the morning, and he knows his husband absolutely loves it. Sure enough, Carlos lets out a soft moan, unconsciously tilting his head towards TK’s fingers.

He can tell the minute that Carlos realizes what’s happening by the way his whole body tenses. His eyes fly open, his brown eyes wide as he sits up straight. His gaze finds TK, drinking him in, and TK can’t do anything but smile back at him, squeezing their hands together.

“Ty,” Carlos breathes, his eyes filling with tears.

“Hey, baby,” TK says, pulling gently on Carlos’s hand until he gets the hint.

His husband stands, shifting closer to the head of the bed, before bending down to press a soft kiss to his waiting lips. Carlos tries to make the kiss quick, but TK reaches up to grip the back of his neck, keeping him close.

“How long has it been?” TK asks when they separate, rubbing their noses together. At this point, it’s their traditional question when one of them is in the hospital. 

“They rushed you to surgery when you first got here, which took about four hours,” Carlos explains, his voice shaking as he runs his fingers soothingly through TK’s hair. “You’ve been sleeping for about five.”

“So, still the same day?” TK confirms. It’s an odd question, but after going through one multi-day coma in his life, he’s hoping to never have to do another. Besides, he knows Carlos wouldn’t handle it well.

“Still the same day,” his husband confirms, the first sign of a smile pulling at his lips. 

“That’s good.”

“Very good,” Carlos agrees, leaning in to kiss him. This one feels a little more heated than the last one. “You know how I get when I don’t get to kiss you goodnight.”

“You become the equivalent of a child who’s told he can’t have ice cream right before bed,” TK supplies, enjoying the shocked look that appears on Carlos’s face. “Or so I’m told.”

“Told?” Carlos cries. “Who told you that? Give me the traitors’ names, Tyler!”

“Just for that, I’m not going to,” he laughs, gasping for air when the movement sends a flare of pain through him. 

“Are you okay?” Carlos asks, worry written clearly on his face. He reaches out, his hands fluttering around him but too afraid to touch. 

“Yeah, I just,” TK grits out, holding his side. “Fuck, that does not feel good.”

It takes a few minutes of deep breathing for him to finally settle back down, reaching for Carlos’s hand when he’s sure that his grip won’t break his fingers. Carlos gingerly takes a seat next to him on the bed, running his free hand through his hair to soothe him.

TK’s just about to ask exactly what the damage is when there’s a knock on the door. They both turn to find his dad poking his head through, an apologetic smile on his face.

“Hey boys, sorry to interrupt,” he says, glancing behind him at something they can’t see. “There’s just some people here who wanted to say a quick hello.”

TK rolls his eyes, sharing a smile with Carlos. This happens every time someone from the firehouse ends up in the hospital - though to be fair, it’s usually him.

“You know you can always let them in, Dad,” he says, his fondness clear in his tone. Carlos just scoots a little closer, pressing one last kiss to his lips. 

“I love you,” he mutters, his eyes shining.

“I love you, too,” TK whispers back as the door is thrown wide open and the equivalent of a clown car files into his room.

Judd and Grace lead the way, followed by Paul, Marjan, and Mateo, then Michelle, Tim, and Nancy. His dad, the last one, closes the door behind him. Strictly speaking, this is way too many visitors to have in a single room at a time, but there are nurses at every hospital who are willing to bend the rules a bit for familiar first responders, as long as they’re discreet about it.

TK looks around at them all - Grace, with her hand on Carlos’s shoulder, and Michelle at the foot of his bed, her eyes glinting with happiness; his dad standing next to her; Mateo, Marjan, and Paul all standing to his left, Paul reaching out to punch him lightly on the shoulder, a bright smile on his face. 

They’re his family, all of them. And they all saved his life today.

“I, um,” he starts, his voice thick with emotion as he looks around at them all. He feels Carlos’s hand slide up his arm, his thumb gently caressing his bicep in support. He turns to look at him, noticing how Carlos still has his back to most of the room as he faces him on the bed. They share a look, just between the two of them, and Carlos nods, a tear falling down his cheek as he squeezes TK’s arm.

“I, um, I wanted to thank you all,” TK says, looking around the room again, his eyes hovering over every face that makes him feel safe and loved and whole, “for saving me today. I - we - will never be able to tell you how much it means to know that we have all of you by our side, looking out for us.”

He feels a tear fall onto his cheek, but before he can reach up to brush it away, Michelle shifts from the end of his bed, coming around the side to stand next to him. She reaches out for him and Carlos, drying his face and gripping his husband’s arm tightly.

“Don’t be silly. You boys are our family,” Michelle says, “so we’re always going to be here for you. No matter what. It’s as simple as that.”

“She’s right,” Judd pipes in, his arm around Grace. “Though, full disclosure, we are gifting you a bulk-size roll of bubble wrap this Christmas.”

“Hey now, c’mon Judd,” Paul says, his hands buried in his pockets. “You weren’t supposed to tell him.”

“Ignore Judd, y’all,” Grace adds, rolling her eyes as she pats her husband’s chest. “He doesn’t do Christmas shopping, and I have much better taste, trust me on that.”

TK huffs out a laugh, wincing at the way it pulls at his injury. No one else catches it, too busy laughing at Grace’s comment and Judd’s offended expression. He glances over at Carlos, seeing a tightness behind his eyes, and knows that his pain didn’t go completely unnoticed. TK reaches over, squeezing his thigh where it’s pressed against his own. Carlos gives him a small smile, grabbing his hand to press a kiss to his fingertips.

The tightness in his eyes doesn’t go anywhere, though, and TK’s heart caves.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

The team stays until visiting hours are over, laughing and joking as they fill TK and Carlos in about the rest of the work day. It seems that much of the ice started to melt by the middle of the afternoon, making the end of the day much easier than the beginning. Finally, a nurse comes in, shocked to find so many people in one room, and tells them that visiting hours are over. One-by-one, they come over to hug TK and Carlos, Grace even pressing a kiss to each of their foreheads. 

When only Carlos and his dad remain, the nurse checks his vitals, telling him that everything appears to be normal. Carlos stands by his side, hand on his shoulder, as TK honestly answers her questions about his pain levels. She helps him to adjust his position on the bed, showing Carlos how to help him so he’ll feel the least amount of pain. His husband listens closely, his face set and serious.

She leaves, and Carlos excuses himself to the bathroom, leaving him alone with his dad.

“How’re you feeling, kid?” his dad asks, sitting next to him. 

“A little tender,” he admits, running his hand lightly over the thick bandage on his stomach. They’re quiet for a moment, TK biting his bottom lip. “It was pretty bad, wasn’t it?” he finally asks.

His dad looks at him, his eyes softening, before reaching out and taking his hand. “You crashed right before they got you in the ambulance. The icicle hit a pretty major blood vessel near your liver, and you lost a lot of blood when it shifted unexpectedly.”

TK is quiet, thoughts rolling through his mind. “He saw, didn’t he?” he confirms, his voice barely more than a hushed whisper. 

“Yeah,” his dad admits, his tone heavy. “He wasn’t in a good place when you left, so his partner drove him here and Michelle stayed with him until I could come.” TK nods, his eyes filling with tears. “He’s gonna be okay, though, TK. You both are.”

His dad stands again, looking around the room. “I’m going to head home,” he says, reaching out to run his fingers through TK’s hair. “I know you’re in good hands for the night. I’ll come back first thing in the morning, okay?”

“Yeah,” TK says. Then, he gets an idea. “Can you help me shift a little?”

His dad smiles knowingly before reaching out again to help move him to the left side of the bed, TK breathing deeply through the pain. 

Carlos finally comes out of the bathroom and his dad gives them both a hug, TK watching as he whispers something in his husband’s ear before pressing a kiss to his temple. Then, with a final wave, they’re alone again.

“Hey,” TK says, breaking the silence.

“Hey,” Carlos parrots back, his voice thin and uneven.

“Come here,” TK says, patting the now open space beside him. Carlos moves across the room, glancing down at the spot doubtfully.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Ty,” he says, his eyes full of so much pain.

“Well, I don’t want to go another minute without you laying by my side, so get your ass up here.” The hard tone of his voice leaves no room for questions, so his husband sighs, sliding next to him as gently as possible.

They lay there for a moment, just breathing together. Then, like a dam breaking, Carlos turns onto his side, placing an arm over his chest as he tucks his face into TK’s neck. In no time at all, TK feels tears soaking the collar of his gown, and his own tears finally fall at the evidence of Carlos’s silent pain.

“I’m so sorry for scaring you today, baby,” he sobs, bringing his hand up to press against the dark curls near his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”

Carlos doesn’t respond except to shake his head, his sobs continuing. TK holds him through it, his heart shattering into a million pieces in his chest. Throughout the past four year, Carlos has had a few nightmares of TK bleeding out in front of him - caused by him getting shot before they even started dating - so he knows that today had to be especially brutal for his husband.

“I know it was an accident, and that you’re going to be okay now,” Carlos finally mumbles into his neck, “but I was so fucking scared that I had lost you there for a minute. I’ve never seen Michelle so intense before, and I really thought this was it.”

“I know, baby, I know,” TK says, trailing his fingers along the back of Carlos’s neck. He digs his nails in just a bit, knowing that the feeling will help ground Carlos. Sure enough, his husband shivers against him, letting out a shaky breath. “You didn’t lose me, though. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“You promise?” Carlos asks weakly.

“Babe, look at me,” TK says, pulling his head back to look down at him. Carlos’s eyes are red-rimmed, his face puffy from crying so much today. He looks so small, so cut open and raw, that TK wishes he could take all of his pain away. “I promise that I am going to do everything in my power to come home to you in one piece at the end of every day, okay?”

Carlos nods, his eyes falling closed. TK stares at his long, gorgeous eyelashes now soaked with tears. Leaning forward, he presses a kiss to each eyelid, feeling the way that Carlos relaxes further into his side. 

“I’m sorry that our bath plans got ruined for this evening,” he says after a few minutes, recalling their conversation from this morning. 

“That’s okay,” Carlos says, his fingers lightly tracing TK’s collarbone through his hospital gown. “Once I get you home, I’m probably never going to let you leave again, so there will be plenty of time for baths.”

TK laughs, ignoring the pain when Carlos joins him. “I like the sound of that,” he admits.

Their gazes lock for a moment before Carlos presses up until their lips meet, the kiss igniting a fire inside of him from head to toe. It doesn’t matter how many times he gets to kiss Carlos, TK thinks that each one feels new and different and life-affirming, his body and soul practically singing at the chance to connect with his husband in a way that no one else can. That no one else ever will.

It’s something that he knows he’ll never get tired of for as long as he lives.

Which will be a very, very long time.

He’s sure of it.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

#911giftexchange #tarlos #tarlos fic #911 lone star #tk strand #carlos reyes #I wrote a thing #charlie-bradburyss

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Old Copy of My Workshop

Hey guys- I decided fuck it, I'm bored and decided to show you what the first workshop I did this year with an original piece was!

This piece was titled the Bartender, and I enjoyed writing it. It was taken by my class and sort of torn apart, and I have rewritten it. As of right now, I want to wait to show the other copy until after I hear from my class- mostly for fun.

You want to share thoughts go ahead- this later developed into a story in my head to so... it's fun!

-0-0-0-0-

Alexis does not know how she’d ended up here. Honestly she doesn’t. One second she’s walking to the bus stop, the next she’s standing in a dimly lit bar. Looking around, Alexis notes the bar is well kept. The counters are clean from what she sees, and the floor is at least swept.

The stools at the bar counter are mismatched and strange. One is simply a large cushion on the ground, while two others are tall chairs with what looks like a ladder leading to the top. The tables around the place are similar in a way- one is very large and Alexis’s brain tries to understand how it fits into the bar but something in her mind just whispers accept it. Her brain shies away from figuring it out and then switches to observing the tiny table with tiny chairs around it.

“Lost?” A voice asks and Alexis’s head turns back to the bar counter, where a person is standing. Alexis pauses, taking them in. They’re short- shorter than her own average height, with dark hair cut into a fohawk and they’re wearing a pair of large circular glasses that makes their silver eyes wide.

‘It can’t be natural,’ Alexis thinks looking into their eyes. The person simply smiles with closed lips, lifting an eyebrow. Alexis blinks, her mind dashing from that thought to observe the clothes that she can see- which amounts to a hoodie with a galaxy pattern on it.

“I uhh…” Alexis begins and then stops. “I don’t know how I got here.” She admits. The person chuckles, and nods.

“Ah, you’re one of those cases. Sit down- you like paralyzers right?” The person asks and Alexis blinks.

“I… yes.” Alexis agrees. A basic drink really, but they were tasty. She hesitates, but slowly moves to sit at the counter, looking around again.

The bar is empty. No one but her and the person in front of her…

“I’m Alexis,” Alexis says, realizing that she has not yet introduced herself. “You are?”

“I’m the Bartender.” The person says simply but that single word carries weight. Looking at them, Alexis can’t think of any other name that would work, can’t think of anything strange about the Bartender being anything other than the Bartender.

“The Bartender mind” the Bartender continues. They make Alexis’s drink and slide it to her. She’s about to pick it up when she stops.

What is she doing?

“Where am I?” Alexis asks the Bartender. They raise an eyebrow and smirk.

“Hmm, you’re a smart one.” They remark, moving to lean their elbows on the counter, sliding their fingers together as they bring their connected hands to their chin. “You’re in the Bar.”

“I know I’m in a bar!” Alexis protests.

“Not a bar. The Bar.” The Bartender repeats. “A place between worlds.”

“… what?” Alexis asks. “That’s not possible!”

It isn’t- there’s no such things as other worlds. There’s only one world and maybe an afterlife- Alexis has never been religious enough to think about it.

“Isn’t it?” The Bartender asks. “Do you know everything about the world?”

“I know enough!” Alexis protests, feeling angry. Just because she’s twenty does not mean she knows nothing of the world! She grew up poor with a mother more interested in a bottle then in her! She grew up having to scrimp and save for a pencil. She knows more then enough about the world! She despises when people say that she doesn’t, sneering down their nose at her because she’s not in college. How they act like her young age means she’s a fool.

“But you don’t know everything.” The Bartender says mildly. They tilt their head to the side, observing her with their wide silver eyes. “Do you?”

“Who does?!” Alexis says angrily. “It’s sure not those stupid religious nuts going on and on about how the gays are the end of the world, or how people of colour are destroying the world or whatever they scream about!” Alexis huffs, and then winces, realizing she’d lashed out. “Sorry.”

“It’s all good.” The Bartender shrugs. “I tend to piss people off when I ask them that.”

“You often get people like me?” Alexis asks, hand going to the drink in front of her to take a sip.

“Often enough. I usually get the other cases.” The Bartender shrugs.

“Other cases?” Alexis asks, sipping her drink. The drink tastes amazing- the perfect amount of liquor and just so perfectly sweet.

“Humans ending up in my bar.” The Bartender says, holding Alexis’s eyes as they speak.

Alexis blinks, opening her mouth to protest. The Bartender is human toohuman to- but she stops. The Bartender stares at her while Alexis states back, closing her mouth. The Bartender looks human, at a glance. But the wide silver eyes- they burrow into Alexis, holding her there in her seat. There’s a heaviness to them as Alexis looks into the silver orbs, something pulling Alexis in and causing her to almost spiral.

A weight is upon, crushing her and holding her to her seat. Alexis can’t breathe, there’s no air-

The Bartender blinks, and Alexis is free. She breathes shakily, hands on the bar counter, clutching onto it tightly. Alexis is sweaty, and her chest aches as she breathes.

“Sorry,” The Bartender says, blinking. “Not many humans can look in my eyes that long.” Their voice changes. Before it was very calm, a little bored and amused, but mostly neutral. As if they were reading off a script without attempting to act. Now, their voice is curious. The Bartender studies Alexis’s face and smirks slightly. “Interesting.”

“...are you God?” Alexis whispers.

“Ha!” The Bartender laughs. “I get asked that all the time. I’m not. I’m a Celestial- a being who walks between worlds and watches over them.” The Bartender stands up a bit, unclasping their hands to rest them on the counter, their elbows leaving the counter so the Bartender can rest their weight on their hands.

“Celestial?” Alexis asks in confusion. Didn’t that mean something in space?

“We voted. It won over Inter- Worlder.” The Bartender shrugs. “We’re watchers mostly. Worlds will go on without our interference and sometimes interfering is the stupidest choice we can do. And yet sometimes… we poke our nose into things.” The Bartender moves their hands off the counter to move them behind their back. “Like your case.”

“My case?” Alexis asks. “… you mean the reason I’m here?”

“Of course. The reason you’re here is obvious really- you’re here because a Celestial was fooling around in your world and caused a rift. The rift pulled you in to here.”

“How do you know?” Alexis asks, the idea being uncomfortable. The idea a Celestial could do something like that- just simply accidentally pull someone from one world to the Bar… it’s disturbing. That they could do something so large and off putting, on accident…

“Because you’re talking to me and don’t have a giant wound somewhere. If you had been sent here by being killed by the interference, you’d be wounded. If a Celestial pulled you out of the world for a joke- you’d be unable to move, speak, hear or see. You’d be trapped in an illusion they’d give you while they handle sending you either back or to a new one.” The Bartender is callous in their words, delivering them without pause and without mercy.

The words make Alexis want to vomit. The utter callousness of them, the truth of them, make her want to stand and run. She does not want to be around the Bartender with their cruel words. She does not want to listen to them. She just wants to leave.

“Your face looks like mine when I was first told.” The Bartender says, their voice becoming soft. Alexis blinks and stares at the person who shrugs at her, a sad looking smile on their face.

“It’s disgusting I know- which is why I created the Bar. I never wanted a human to wander the void between worlds, trapped until they stumbled upon a place a Celestial made their own. I never wanted a human at risk for the fun of Celestials.” As the Bartender speaks they lift a hand to trail along the side of their jaw, where Alexis spots a scar- a long thin scar that would be missed if one did not look closely enough.

Alexis suddenly wonders if the reason she first thought the Bartender human was because they were once before. She decides not to ask. Seems too personal. Instead she focuses on herself, feeling a bit selfish but she does need to ask.

“Can you send me home then?” She asks hopefully only to be dashed by the sigh that the Bartender gives.

“Me? No. I can’t. I cannot send you back to a world where another Celestial removed you no matter how accidental. I used to. I’d break the spells on the humans and send them back. But after everyone got too annoyed they cursed all of us to prevent it.” The Bartender grins. “Not that they knew it was all of us. They thought it just me but I’m a little more powerful then some of them so I twisted the curse. We can no longer interfere with humans others have already interfered with.” The Bartender looks pleased, a smug grin on their face and a snicker in their words. Alexis has to admit- it’s a very good trick.

“But what about me?” Alexis asks however, worry in her gut. What about her cat? Her roommate? What about Alexis herself? Would she need to wait for the Celestial to come and take her back? Would they even wish to with how the Bartender spoke of Celestials? Or should Alexis even trust the Bartender? Perhaps they are lying to gain her trust.

Yet she feels like they are trust worthy. Like they wouldn’t lie to her- however at the same time she feels wary. After looking into their eyes and feeling that… pull, that heaviness, she is wary.

“You have two choices- stay and wait here. You’ll get food and drink, but you may end up dying here waiting for the Celestial that brought you here to come to the Bar.” The Bartender says bluntly. “Or you go to a new world.”

“A new world?” Alexis asks.

“I said this was between worlds. I can send you to any world you wish. Make a list of your favourite stories- I can send you to one.” the Bartender shrugs. “But it’s a one way trip- no take backs. You go, you go.”

“I-” Alexis stops and sits. She stares at the Bartender who simply looks back with those wide silver eyes.

Did… what… Alexis didn’t know what to do. Wait for a being who may or may not come? Possibly die in a bar where she may never see anyone other than the Bartender? Or leave. Forsake her life and move on. Go to a world she’s read about or played a game about or seen a movie about.

What does she have to lose if she does? Her job as a waitress? Her other job as a cashier? Or her third job of landscaping during the summer? Her roommate who could easily find another person?

“My cat!” Alexis blurts out. The Bartender blinks. “My roommates hates Stripes. I-” the Bartender blinks and suddenly a very fluffy orange cat is sitting on the counter of the bar. Alexis blinks and then looks at the Bartender with wide eyes. The person shrugs.

“I like cats.” The Bartender says, petting the cat’s head.

Alexis wordlessly decides not to press. After all- that bit of power… it showed that Celestials did apparently have great power.

Now though, she has her cat. And… well, what else did she have? A mother she spoke to last at age 17 when she finally just walked out the door? No friends other than her coworkers and roommate, nothing really going for her…

‘A new life or possible death,” Alexis thinks. ‘Is there really a choice?”

“Can I give you a list and you pick?” Alexis asks. The Bartender hands her a piece of paper with various things already written. Alexis blinks upon reading the list, as she spots all her favorite stories, games and movies on it. “Alright- you pick. I love all of these.”

The Bartender hums and then trails a finger down the list before pausing.

“I haven’t sent anyone here before. It’ll be more accepting of you.” The Bartender sighs. “Finish your drink and then I’ll send you and Stripes off.”

Alexis drinks the rest of her paralyzer before she nods, waiting. The Bartender smiles and then with a blink, the seat is empty and the cat is gone. The Bartender stands alone in the Bar and smirks.

“I’ll see you one day anyway Alexis,” the Bartender murmurs.

The Bartender picks up the glass and goes to clean it, awaiting their next patron. Celestial, human, elf, alien, or other- they would be there waiting for anyone who came.

They were a bartender.

#original work #the bartender

[siennahrobek]

Rex

Rex was exhausted. He wished he didn’t have to think. He was nervous and jittery and there were much too many thoughts running through his head. Even though he didn’t show it, even though no one could possibly know. To everyone else, he was confident and steady as he could ever be.

To make matters worse, communications were on a strict bar and heavily monitored, so he couldn’t check up on the 332ndand Ahsoka. He hoped she was okay. Then again, he doubted Jesse and Echo would be quiet about anything that went wrong. Besides, they were with Master Feemor. Rex couldn’t say he knew much about the jedi who claimed to be General Kenobi’s brother – and he wasn’t entirely sure how that worked – but he seemed kind and good in a fight. He kept Ahsoka’s head level on her shoulders. He wouldn’t really rest until he could reunite with all of them. Rex had been burned by two jedi generals and even though Master Feemor was not a general, Rex was cautious to trust another, especially one that he just met.

The days went by slowly for him and he tried to keep with the survivors of what was left of his battalion. He tried not to think about how many were dead, or worse, how many they hadn’t yet been able to save.

Rex knew, on some level, consciously even, that the jedi weren’t actually abandoning them, his brothers, his troops. Even the 501st. When General Kenobi said they would be back for them, that they were regrouping to make a plan to get them back. Rex believed him.

If there was anyone, he had to be able to believe right now, it was him.

Rex wasn’t sure if he could take another blow like that.

If there was anyone Rex could trust not to betray them, it had to be General Kenobi.

You thought that about General Skywalker once, too a traitorous part of his brain whispered. He tried to shake it off. Surviving another treachery on the level of that of Skywalker; Rex wasn’t sure if he could. Even thinking about it made it hard to breathe. He would keep his faith; it was something to hold on to right now.

But looking at these boys, watching them cry and try to pull themselves together from the horror that they had lived through, some deep, dark part of him cried with them, cried for his brothers that were left behind. The ones he sometimes thought he would never see again.

Escape and evacuation had been the right choice. Rex knew that, on multiple levels and ways. They had warned so many, probably saved quite a few. And Kamino – oh! – all the youngsters and cadets and trainees and tubies, they were being saved as well. The Jedi were coming for them. Or rather, the cadets were coming withthem. Rex was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Alpha-17 had committed mutiny in such a short time frame, just on the mysterious warning of General Kenobi.

Rex was a bit curious how they knew each other.

General Kenobi seemed to know someone from everywhere.

It was the third and final day that Rex had done double takes when he saw one of the survivors. Because even though he knew several of them were from the 501st, they were not actually donning the colors. Rather, suddenly, they were painted in the familiar brother battalion of gold. He didn’t ask any of them. It felt intrusive. It was rather understandable too. Who would want to be a part of a legion under a traitor and the person that had betrayed them? That had brainwashed them into killing children?

The captain-commander (he wasn’t entirely sure if he still held the commander title anymore and he was a bit too tired to care) had stuck around Cody and, by proxy, General Kenobi, in those final moments before they reached Kamino. He stood by the two of them, with a couple other jedi generals milling around the bridge, when the water planet came into view. His anxiety had been wrapped in something warm and comforting, like one of those robes that Cody kept stashing away and giving to the troopers on cold nights. Something that soothed his worries.

He glanced over at his brother, whose shoulders had sagged just a little, in some kind of pleasant feeling, like he didn’t have to stand straight and at attention all times. His gaze drifted towards General Kenobi, who was breathing methodically. In for four. Out for seven. In for four, out for eight.

The jedi was doing this, Rex thought, blinking blankly. After everything, he was projecting something comforting for them. He wondered how far that feeling reached, how many troopers felt it.

Alpha-17 greeting them in his usual gruff manner was no surprise. The man had taught most of them, especially those that were designated as officers of some kind. He had a soft spot for the commander and their class, if Alpha-17 could have anything that remotely resembled a soft spot. He seemed rather friendly with General Kenobi, even getting the jedi to crack a small smile.

Finding out so many generals survived was such a relief.

There were so many.

Which meant so many brothers had survived with them.

Eventually, when he and Cody went back to General Kenobi’s ship, after the meeting, and had a moment of peace, Cody shoved a cup of caf in his hands. The two jedi stayed on the bridge and after their job was done, the two clones had slipped away for a stolen second to calm themselves.

Rex, like a fool, didn’t even ask. He just drank it.

And promptly spit it back out.

“What is that?!”

Cody smirked but his expression was rather warm as he walked down the hall next to him. Their shoulders bumped together as they walked, their pauldrons clanking and making noise as they went along. A few 212th boys passed and chuckled, good-naturedly. “Plague’s illegal whiskey,” he replied, with a shrug, shooting him a knowing glance. “He’s on his last bit and probably won’t be able to get any more. But I figured, if anyone needed something, it would be you.”

“This is… bracing,” Rex forced out, trying to sound nice about it.

“Come on, let’s find a quiet place to sit down,” Cody added with another laugh. “We have a moment before anything crazy happens again and it’s not like we are needed for now.” Rex just followed as his brother led him through the halls until they found a quiet room, just a little storage space, filled with supplies and buckets of paint. Cody pulled out a large, brown robe and gave one to Rex. “It’s one of General Kenobi’s. We collect them and use them as blankets,” he explained Rex’s silent question.

Okay then.

He took the robe and wrapped it around himself. He wasn’t wrong, he completely understood why the brothers would want them as blankets. They were nice. The two of them got settled on the floor near the wall and began nursing their small cups of disgusting alcohol. “I don’t think I want to drink this ever again,” Rex announced, but his voice was a bit quiet.

The commander laughed, lightly. “Well, you probably won’t.”

“This is a weird place to be,” Rex added.

“Most of the usual places are occupied, ya know, with kids and jedi,” Cody explained. “Some have moved over to the other venators and cruisers, to spread the population out a bit. Just in case.”

“Aren’t they chipped?”

“There is a pulse that stops it for a while. I think all the ships have been outfitted with one. Something pretty simple. If anything, suspicious comes near, we can just bring up the pulse,” he explained further. “And the medics are all starting surgeries. The jedi brought their medical droids which can pretty much do it quick and nonstop.”

Rex nodded, mutely.

“You think Ahsoka is, okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” Cody said, near immediately. “She’s got a pretty good head on her shoulders. Besides, you said a master was with her right? I’m sure he will keep her in line. I doubt he was so much like Skywalker to cause a bunch of trouble.”

“That’s true,” Rex confessed. “I’m just worried.”

“Do you know anything about this…Master Feemor?” Cody asked, suddenly.

Rex blinked, glanced over at him. “Not really. He seemed nice. He got Ahsoka away from…Skywalker during the battle. He helped save some boys. Seems to have a pretty level head.”

Cody nodded.

“Why?”

“You said he claimed to be General Kenobi’s brother,” Cody replied, slowly.

“I don’t know if he was telling the truth or not,” Rex shrugged. “But I’m sure you will be able to talk to him when he and Ahsoka get back.” The conversation died and the two of them sat comfortably in the storage room, sipping disgusting alcohol. He looked around the room, at the paint buckets, all covered in the 212thsignature gold color. It reminded him of something that happened not that long ago.

“I was walking around, the day before we got here. And I saw one of my boys. He was nervous and skittish. But he was better, less panicked than the day before.”

“Okay…” Cody said, slowly.

“There was something else.”

“What?”

“Instead of his 501st blue, his armor had been meticulously scrubbed and repainted in gold. 212th gold,” Rex admitted.

Cody paused. “Rex…”

“I’m not… mad or upset or anything,” he assured, quickly. And he wasn’t. There was no way he could be. “I’m not upset. How can I? I’ll never really understand what they went through. Enslaved and brainwashed by someone they trusted, someone that they thought they could trust, to murder innocents. The elderly and children and babies. And they did. People died. Children died. And the 501stkilled them.”

“He did it during the night,” Cody explained, his voice getting even quieter, as he wrapped closer to Rex. He knew exactly who Rex was referring to. Rex wasn’t entirely sure how, but it didn’t really matter either. “He was in the pile we had for the general and the survivors to help them sleep. I don’t think he did, though. I didn’t give him the paint.”

They both knew who did.

“It took Graffiti two hours to walk into one of the rooms that were set aside for some of the jedi kids,” Rex continued. Cody blinked in surprise; he wasn’t expecting the story to continue.

“Did you follow him?”

Rex nodded, mutely. It took him a long minute to keep going. “He finally went in after a while and I just… couldn’t quite make myself walk away. The jedi adults there didn’t seem alarmed when he came in. They didn’t say a word to him or ask him why he was there. He just sat in a corner. But then…something happened,” he continued, with his brows furrowing in some kind of confusion. “Something happened that called for the jedi’s attention. She had been holding a child so she just…gave him the child. She was just… a little thing. A baby. And Graffiti just stared.”

Rex paused.

“And then she put his hand on his face. And he just started bawling. He sat in a corner with this baby and was simply sobbing. He muttered apologies and this baby just sat on his lap, in his arms, babbling nonsensical things.”

Cody nodded, another silent urge for his brother to continue. Rex needed to get this out, to get to the end.

“Back at the Temple, when I went to the medical bay during the evacuation, I found Appo there,” Rex said. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this but the not-interaction with the commander had struck him.

“We found him,” Cody said. “The General, another trooper and I. Shoved him in a closet.”

Rex snorted, amused. He quickly sobered up as he continued. “He had killed a five-year-old child and it was ripping him apart. Graffiti reminded me of him when I was there. I watched him and the adults.”

“The adults?”

“They barely blinked. All of them must have known what the troopers had done, probably knew it was the 501st specifically. They know who killed them, their people, their children but these jedi just…let Graffiti in. No questions, no reservations. Just invited him to sit.”

“He was de-chipped,” Cody replied, keeping his voice cautious and slow. No chipped trooper was allowed around the younglings and babies, especially until they had gotten out or surgery. It was a security and safety precaution.

“But, after the horror that happened. They just gave him a baby. Just like that. After what happened, even with the jedi that had no experience with us clones, they still trust us.”

Cody looked at him, uncertainly. Did he not understand what Rex was saying? Even if the troopers forced to do what they did, chipped, which, of course they were, would that not still give them fear? Caution? Paranoia? If it was done once, who was to say it couldn’t be done again? Could they just turn once more?

The thought was just as horrifying as the first time.

“You know what they said on Kamino?” Cody asked.

Rex stared at him as Cody looked up at the ceiling, as if he could see the stars and systems up in the sky they would be going to soon enough.

“How we were made for the jedi? For them to lead us?”

He swallowed harshly and nodded. They had always been told they were meant for the jedi. They had been told so much and the troopers had found some kind of awe and loyalty for them even before they had known any single jedi. “It was a lie,” he croaked. He blinked in surprise. He was surprised that had come out.

Cody just shook his head. “It really wasn’t. And I don’t think anyone really understood exactly what it meant, not the long necks, not anyone.”

“What do you mean?”

“Our futures were always going to be intertwined,” Cody said, leaning further against the wall and letting the robe fall over his shoulders. “It was always going to be us and the jedi. It always will be. Their destruction was meant to be our destruction. Ours meant theirs. Think about it, we are brainwashed, destroyed and who pays that price? The Jedi. The Jedi are destroyed, by us or anyone and who is left for us? No one really understood what the Kaminoans meant, not even the Kaminoans themselves. They didn’t realize it was a two-way street.”

“A two-way street?” he echoed, questioningly. He wasn’t sure if he followed.

“We were meant for the jedi just as much as the jedi were meant for us.”

Shaak Ti

It wasn’t Master Kenobi’s ship that was hit but they had a front row seat to the event. Master Shaak Ti and Master Cin Drallig had been on the bridge for quite some time, trying to coordinate and plan when, in plain sight through the viewing port, another ship in space rocked, one of the edges lighting up in a small explosion.

Everyone on the bridge jumped, some even shouted.

“Stamina, come in!” one of the communications troopers yelled. “Stamina, respond, what is your status?”

There was brief moment of bare static. “We’re okay. We are alright,” a voice came through. “It was a glancing blow; systems are still operational.”

“Does anyone have eyes? What happened?” the trooper called out again, quickly. There was a pause.

“A ship came out of hyperspace,” yet another voice spoke up, a bit on edge. “It is on fire. It doesn’t look like it is going to fire again but we cannot establish communications.”

“We need someone to go in there to incapacitate those on board. They could be chipped. Any available to get in quickly? Who is closest?”

“Vigilance, this is Captain ARC Alpha-77,” the sound was a little off, like the owner was moving and the communications device he was talking through wasn’t quite made for the distance. “I’ve already got a squad ready to go and on the move. Will be there within minutes.”

“Set your blasters to stun, please,” the trooper on the ship replied and his fingers danced over the board of his station.

It would be quite some time before Shaak Ti and Master Drallig would get anymore news. There was an uncomfortable silence during then, as they waited uneasily for an update.

“Vigilance, this is Captain ARC Alpha-77,” the ARC’s voice came through, a little clearer this time. Everyone perked at least a little. “The ship Ascension has been neutralized, activated troopers are being shuttled to medical stations, along with two jedi.”

“Any others?”

“Several natborn officers. Orders?”

The trooper glanced at Shaak Ti and Cin. She cleared her throat. “Please, put them in the brig with the others from Kamino.”

“You hear that, Captain ARC Alpha-77?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Status of the ship?”

“Unsalvageable.”

*

“How did this happen?” Cin asked, as the bridge died down in sound and talk once again. They could see the offending ship, on fire and slowly breaking apart from their viewport.

“The Captain mentioned there were two jedi aboard,” Shaak Ti replied. “Perhaps they can give us some insight into that has occurred.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t mean the Empire is right on their tail.”

*

“How long until we can depart?”

Master Obi-Wan pressed into the bridge of his own flagship, the ARC trooper captain, Alpha-17, at his side. Many emotions were flowing from the master as he quickly tempered them behind thick shields. Shaak Ti and Cin Drallig were on the ship, discussing a great many things, including strategies to avoid the newly formed Empire as they gathered their family and friends, as well as the mess of the ship that had come in, fired a shot and was burning to pieces. It had been evacuated, with all those still alive, but no one was sure how it happened. Shaak Ti and Cin had went back and forth with some theories. They had stopped talking once Obi-Wan had entered, his face drawn and tired, with someone else that was weighing on his shoulders.

“Are you alright, Master Kenobi?” she asked. He glanced around and settled on her, his gaze slackening and softening at the sight of her. She was glad he could find some semblance of peace with his fellow jedi, her in particular. She was always happy to help in such a way.

“You have heard about the ship on fire that took a shot at one of ours?” he asked.

They both nodded, as Shaak Ti saw in the corner of her eye. “It didn’t harm the ship too badly. A group of soldiers, led by one of the ARC Alphas, Captain 77? I believe? He and a select few others went to subdue,” Master Drallig responded, his lips pursed at the notion of the unfortunate event but his tone reflected his gratitude for those who had gone in. “They worked quite quickly.”

“We don’t know how they discovered us so quickly,” Master Shaak Ti added, folding her hands over one another.

“They didn’t,” Master Obi-Wan replied. “Ahsoka decided to take over the bridge of an activated ship and took Master Feemor along with her,” he explained.

Cin stiffened.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Master Feemor is critical but on the medical ship Master Vos brought,” Obi-Wan continued. “He is with Ahsoka and getting checked out, but she appears unharmed.”

“Casualties?” Cin asked.

“Uncertain,” Obi-Wan said stiffly.

“I’ll go find Fordo and get the numbers,” Captain Alpha-17 dipped his head and marched off. Shaak Ti paused and put the two identities together. Obi-Wan took a moment to watch him leave. She wondered if he preferred that he stayed, on some level. He seemed rather comfortable with that.

“I’m not sure if they got a distress call or anything back to Coruscant or another fleet,” he added, keeping himself steady as he spoke. “How soon can the evacuation and preparations be done?”

He looked around the bridge.

He’s asking the troopers, Shaak Ti realized. He’s so used to working with them.

She wasn’t entirely sure if that was a blessing or a curse.

How many jedi would be the same way?

She was to, in a way, but she wasn’t often on the battlefield like so many of the others were. She had been in charge of training and organizing squads, alongside Commander Colt and, sometimes, Captain Alpha-17.

“I’ve been keeping up with the numbers and reports, sir,” a trooper by a station over the side of the bridge called out and looked over at him. “Preparations are finished, all equipment, rations and available resources are buckled up. They are loading up the last of the troopers onto the last of the ships, the Comeback and the Believer,” he reported, easily.

“Thank you, Crys,” Obi-Wan smiled, faintly. “Do we have a timetable?”

“Within the hour sir, I’d reckon,” Crys replied. “Give or take thirty minutes, pending ship complications.”

“Excellent,” Obi-Wan nodded. “Do we know the closest fleet to rendezvous with?”

“Already calculated a comprehensive route, general,” another trooper chimed in. “Plugged in and ready to be shifted on command.”

“Good, Bloom. Thank you.”

Shaak Ti glanced over and caught Cin Drallig’s smirk.

“Is anyone communicating with other ships? I’d like to leave the moment we can, as closely together as we can,” he continued, eyes sweeping the area.

“I’ve been on it, sir!”

“Inkspot. I was wondering where you have been,” Obi-Wan chuckled, shooting the trooper a smile, who grinned back at him.

“Just trying to help out sir,” Ink responded, cheerily. “The 212th have been great. I’ve already told the fleet to button up and prepare to move on command.”

“They have the next coordinates,” Bloom added. “Menace is helping out on the Endurance, putting together coordinates and communications with any jedi we can get a hold of.”

“Just waiting on the Comeback and the Beleiver,” Crys added.

Obi-Wan nodded. “Good. Good,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Where is Immortal and his death caf when you need it,” he muttered under his breath.

Shaak Ti and Cin glanced at one another curiously just as a trooper sidled to Kenobi’s side, with a cup and pot in hand. The grin on the clone’s face was knowing and mischievous and just a bit smug. “Thought you might want this, sir.”

Obi-wan brightened as the cup was given to him, cupped in his hands with a flash of relief that went through his expression. “Are you sure you are not a telepathic deity, Immortal? Because I do believe you just read my mind.”

The trooper laughed. “Not a telepathic deity, sir. I just know you, and happened to be around. Figured you would need something. Pure coincidence.”

“The will of the Force, perhaps. I do thank you, my dear Immortal.”

“You’ll catch your death that way, general,” Crys called back, good naturedly.

“Please, the general is of the same type as Immortal. He doesn’t die,” Bloom scoffed but he was grinning wide.

“Yeah,” another sniggered. “Have you learned nothing of the Rako Hardeen incident?”

“General Kenobi does not cheat death,” someone jeered, happily, but even Shaak Ti could practically hear the grin and she was inwardly gaping.

What was happening?

“He wins fair and square!” another finished and several cheered with varying high fives near one another, like it was some sort of victory.

Shaak Ti glanced over at Obi-Wan and Cin was doing the same. The young master just rolled his eyes. “You are all rather ridiculous,” he snorted but he was vaguely amused and it showed.

“Who’s death jokes are they doing now, general?”

The three jedi turned around to see Obi-Wan’s commander walking up to his side, wrinkling his nose at the jedi’s cup of caf. Shaak Ti recognized the 501st captain Rex with him. The commander frowned a bit.

“Ah, yours apparently. Your drinking Immortal’s…special blend.”

“I think the situation calls for it,” Obi-Wan shrugged and took a sip.

Shaak Ti, standing nearby, caught a wiff of it and startled. It smelled terrible; she couldn’t imagine how it must taste.

“Would you like a cup, general,” Immortal offered to her.

She almost felt bad for declining, but she couldn’t even imagine trying to taste something that smelled rather vile. “Ah…no thank you trooper.”

Besides her, Master Drallig shrugged. “I’ll try it.”

The other troopers around stared in near rapt attention as Immortal offered him a cup. After a tentative sniff, Master Drallig swallowed a gulp successfully.

“That is…atrocious,” he said, shaking his head. “You like this, Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan shrugged. “Sometimes helps keep me awake. You know, alert and focused.”

“Certainly,” Master Drallig added, nearly coughing as he took another swallow. “This… cannot be healthy.”

“Oh, it is not,” a trooper sniggered.

“Only beskar stomachs can keep it down.”

“It appears you do, General Drallig.”

“Hey! You gotta wait twenty minutes, at least. If he doesn’t throw up, then he’s good.”

Shaak Ti couldn’t help but be incredibly amused. “Is this what your ship is always like?” she mused out loud.

Obi-Wan shrugged, gulping down some caf. “I cannot complain. They are excellent men, in both capability, disposition and spirit.”

Both she and Cin laughed. “Agreed,” the conceded in unison.

“Sir!” Bloom shouted, apologies seeping through his tone quickly. “There are incoming ships, trying to contact Kamino.”

Obi-Wan stiffened. “How long do the Comeback and Believer need to move?”

“Not long, sir. Fifteen minutes, perhaps?”

“Tell Commander Colt and the others to jump. We will buy them some time.”

“Every face around the bridge hardened in determination and agreement. Loyal to the end, Shaak Ti thought. Inkspot and several others began sending the message to jump to hyperspace towards their first stop.

“Arm the cannons, make an announcement,” Obi-Wan ordered smoothly. “Prepare to fire upon command.”

“Prepare to launch fighters, sir?” Commander Cody asked.

“Prepare but wait for command. If we can make a quick getaway, we should.”

“Yes sir.”

*

A ship leapt forth out of hyperspace. Obi-Wan ordered their ship to block the enemy’s path, intending to give the other ships time and space to escape. Shaak Ti glanced at Cin and met his gaze. He nodded. This was okay. If they gave their lives here, as the others escaped with theirs, that would be an acceptable death.

Obi-Wan leaned forward. “Unknown vessel, identify yourself immediately.”

There was a pause.

“If you do not comply, I will be forced to open fire,” he added with a bitter lip curl and a snarl.

“Easy, Admiral,” the other voice crackled through the communications. “We picked up a call from a venator that disappeared from Courscant a few days ago.”

“Unfortunately, the vessel Ascension has been decommissioned,” Obi-Wan responded without pause, a bit flat. “There was a drive malfunction and she exploded.”

“Admiral?” Cin muttered under his breath, confused.

“I will repeat myself, identify yourself.”

“Oh. I am Captain Thvidm,” the voice replied, calmly. “I see you bear the mark of the Open Circle fleet, one of the 212th’s ships, the Vigilance, also left Coruscant space a few days ago.”

“That would be us,” he affirmed.

“Did you execute your traitor?”

“Pardon?”

“Your jedi general is a traitor. Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi usually leads the 212thpersonally. Have the clones dealt with him?”

Obi-Wan paused and bristled at the tone.

“Obi-Wan,” Cin warned, quietly.

“Sir?”

“Affirmative,” Obi-Wan ground out.

“Oh that is good,” the other man sighed in what could only be construed as relief. “He was one of the high-profile ones, one of the worse traitors. I’m glad he is gone, he is rather dangerous and a ruthless general. At least we have General Skywalker on our side. He defected from the traitors, stopped an attempt on the Emperor’s life if you can believe it.”

“Ruthless,” Commander Cody muttered under his breath, flatly.

Obi-Wan scowled. “Oh, I can.”

“He is loyal to the Empire,” Thvidm continued. “Where there any survivors?”

“Pardon?” Obi-Wan startled.

“On the ship, where the hyperdrive exploded. The Ascension? Were there any survivors?”

“Ah yes. They are currently being treated.”

“Is there a reason you are here, Admiral?” Captain Thivdm asked, almost cautiously. Master Kenobi narrowed his eyes, now quite suspicious at the change of subject and clear tone.

“As much as I doubt that is any of your business,” Master Kenobi responded, firmly. “Captain, you know what happened with my ship. You know what happened with the Ascension. What warrants this line of questioning?”

“The Jedi have escaped,” the captain responded, drawing out his tone and speech. “And from our scanners, ships are leaving the system by the dozens, there is little life on the planet left where there should be many soldiers. And like I said, the jedi escaped Coruscant. They had to use some ship to get off the planet.”

Obi-Wan glanced at one of the troopers, making a sign with his hands. “What are you suggesting, captain?”

“I’m thinking that the Vigilance did not take out the traitor and have been harboring criminals,” the captain accused, vitriol on his tongue in such spades, it could be heard over the comm.

Obi-Wan glanced around at them, sweeping over Shaak Ti and Cin before furthering towards the bridge. “Status of the Comeback and the Believer,” he muttered, away from the comm but loud enough for the rest of them to hear.

“Everything is buttoned up and ready to go sir,” one of the troopers said, carefully trying to keep his voice out of communications. “Jumping within the minute.”

The jedi nodded. “Captain Thidvm, we are leaving the planet. Any efforts to stop us will be met with firepower. I would suggest you leave it alone,” he announced, loud and bold through the comm to the other ship.

“You are Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan nodded.

The captain’s voice went quiet. “Fire upon will.”

“Now,” Obi-Wan replied, nearly at the same moment.

And in that moment, several cannons fired.

But the Vigilance was gone then, with nothing but dust left behind.

#finally sorry it took so long #computer problems AND no internet #yikes #anywho #we are burning stars au #we are burning stars #burn the ships #i finally got a series name #order 66 #order 66 au #fix it sort of #fix it #pro jedi #pro jedi fic #pro clone #obi-wan kenobi #obi wan kenobi #commander cody #captain rex #cin drallig #shaak ti #crys #clone trooper oc #original clone characters #original clone troopers #immortal's death caf #he's called immortal for many reasons

[poormeowmeowcollector]

Trying To Balance With A Part Of Yourself Missing

Summary: Thor bargains with Odin on Loki's sentence, and he wins. Loki is moved with the Avengers to fix his past mistakes. But Odin's term changes everything, and Loki's foe is not their mistakes, but their self-image.

Warnings: each chapter has individual, the work in general is pretty dark

Notes: When a dialogue of Loki is in bold, he is speaking English. And when a line is in italics without a dialogue, it's an intrusive thought.

Chapter 5: The Doctor

Chapter summary: Banner takes Loki for the tests.

Warnings: Language, gender dysphoria, gender dysmorphia, internalized racism, intrusive thoughts, needles, blood, medical themes, mentions of child neglect [not on screen], mentions of self harm [not on screen]

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This time, Friday wakes them up, reminding them of the appointment with Banner. Loki groans and drags himself out of the bed and into the bathroom, it's better to get rid of that smell, at least for as long as it can hold.

At least Loki doesn't have to look at their body as they wash themselves, an advantage of blindness they didn't think of until now. Still, being forced to touch all the time is unpleasant and uncomfortable to no end. And trying to wash his hair without scratching his hands on the horns or his claws scratching his scalp is a task unimaginably difficult.

Loki now understands why Jötnar run around naked, wearing a shirt with these horns is almost impossible. But, they must hide the chest plate, at least from everyone but Thor. And Banner, after the examination. And, shit, he probably has to take breakfast with them…

They sigh and glance at the mirror, only to make sure they don't look so much for a mess. His appearance is acceptable, so he takes the now charged earpiece and walks away, wearing it as Friday starts instructing.

A hand touches their shoulder, making them flinch away. Thor, the owner of the hand, mutters something, probably an apology, but he can't hear it thanks to Friday. They take a breath out and smile at Thor, muttering a good morning. Thankfully, Friday stops talking.

"How are you feeling? You look…" Thor trails off, trying to appear as polite as possible.

"F-f-feverish? It's fi-fine, just-just a b-bad day," he brushes off, suddenly glad that he doesn't need Friday's translations.

"But, you're ill," Thor argues, making Loki sigh.

"I'm not-not, it's a bad d-day," they answer.

"Loki, you can't fool me. You're unwell, why don't you admit it?" he groans. Truth be told, Loki rarely admits any weakness with ease. As long as one can walk, there's no need for whining, Odin had said countless times and Loki never stopped obeying.

"I d-d-do. It's a b-bad da-day," he speaks slowly and as clearly as possible.

"Loki, you're having a fever. It's not just a bad day, and you are allowed to admit that you're ill. Please," Thor begs, actually begs. If Loki wasn't so pissed off, they'd be touched.

He pulls Thor closer, mostly to maintain some secrecy. "I am on m-m-my pe-pe-period," they hiss, watching as Thor's last brain cell comes to life.

"Oh… well, this explains the irritability of yours, brother. You know your patience always runs low these days," Thor nods, all matter-of-factly. Loki has to take deep breaths and remind themselves again and again that murder is a convicted crime, and they should not get locked up in a Midgardian prison. Or any prison, anytime soon.

Luckily, Thor remains silent after that. The only one who breaks the silence is Friday, reminding Loki that he can't eat before a blood test, or the results will not be accurate. Fine, they didn't really feel hungry anyway.

Perhaps, if you skip today's food entirely, you'll lose that disgusting bloating of yours. He tries hard to not grimace at the thought. No, they have to remind themselves, it will leave after a few days, it always does. Just do the damn tests and then eat, it's not that hard.

When they reach the kitchen, Loki can feel eyes on him and a mix of confusion and irritation in the air. Alright, just stay quiet and it will pass.

Wanda mutters a good morning, her magic swirling around her like some form of shield or blanket. Loki repeats the wish, forcing a smile. They don’t know which is worse, the jealousy building up or the guilt over the last time they listened to that feeling.

Thor helps him find a chair in the bright chaos, and even pulls it. For fucks sake, they're not unable to sit on a fucking chair! He tries to prove it by being the one who adjusts it on the table.

"Morning, dude. How're you feeling?" a man asks, Wilson. Just by his voice, he sounds kind, less judgemental.

"Fine, thank you for asking," they answer, plastering another fake smile (one of the best skills being a prince has given them).

Still, Wanda is seeing through it and attempts to find out, by using a simple mind invading spell. One that makes the base of Loki's skull feel ablaze. As loud as he can, he thinks of the word stop, making Wanda pause and retreat, her curiosity replaced with shame.

Then, a conversation occurs. Loki doesn't want to take part, but the combination of the voices and Friday's translations is overwhelming, making his head pound. Friday catches the message and stops translating, but the voices are still too fucking loud. Loki sighs and decides to just take a sip of water, and see if it'll help, but it turns to ice before it touches their lips. But fuck, he's thirsty and in pain.

A hand touches their shoulder, and they jump up, turning around to see a short person dressed in purple. "Are you ready for the tests?" He asks, Banner. Loki nods and gets up, pardoning himself before walking away.

"Are you okay?" he asks, making Loki groan.

"Wh-wh-wh-why does e-e-everyone ask me-me if I'm okay? I'm f-f-fine!" they snap, stopping only after feeling Banner freeze.

"I asked because you looked like you were about to start crying over there. No offence, they can be loud sometimes, but you didn't seem like you were taking it well," he answers, half expecting his skull to be crushed. But Loki is just ashamed he didn't hide the pain better.

"N-n-n-none t-taken. Noise is not exactly we-we-we-welcome, and I used to to-to-tone it down w-w-with spells. Now, I c-c-c-can't," they explain, just beginning to collect themselves.

"You know, you can ask Friday to deafen, if you use the earpieces. It helps," he suggests. Loki nods, happy with the silence that they fall into. At least Banner doesn't feel like he has to talk all the time, even though he's nervous. He's still afraid of him, even though it's not necessary any more.

The lab is a fucking bright room, Loki has to cover their eyes and let Banner navigate them, after lowering the lights.

During the examination, Loki comes to realize that Asgard and Midgard are opposite when it comes to healing. First, Banner promises secrecy, any information stays private until Loki asks for a leak, or in a life or death situation. And then, he just asks about everything and listens to the answer. No doubt, no comments and no painful examinations with leeches or smelly potions that make people’s skin pink. Well, the examination on light sensitivity was painful, and Loki swears to piss on the grave of whoever thought a flashlight in the eyes is a good idea, but the rest were fine.

When he was young, Odin would not easily believe Loki, no matter what. The times when they were forced in hunts that were leaving them in the healing wing for weeks or feasts until they faint on their plate due to fever are uncountable. The show would usually begin with Loki faking the illness because he’s lazy, come to its climax when Loki would be deemed delicate and weak while being tossed in the healing wing and the parade of hypocrisy would end after Loki returns to his chamber only to be forgotten there. Loki learned two lessons from this. One, if they can stand up, they're not ill, and they shouldn't bother other people with whining. And two, if he's truly ill, it's wiser to deal with it on his own than let others draw conclusions.

The change feels so odd, yet it’s so welcome.

Until the time for the blood test.

"Just follow my instructions, I'll make it as painless as I can," he promises, and then instructs Loki to lift their sleeve and show the armpit, the non-dominant one. Loki doesn't show his nervousness, and tries to appear as cold as possible when he reveals the hand, and everything he's done to it. Banner doesn't comment and doesn't show pity, but his skin grows just green enough for Loki's eyes to notice.

The other instructions were easy. Clench the fist, breathe in, breathe out and relax the hand. Banner is surprised to say the least when he sees the tube filling with blue liquid instead of red, but doesn't comment.

Do you think he could bleed you dry and be done with this shit show? Loki hitches a breath and clinches their stomach, stopping when the sound of something breaking and a hot pain blooms in their arm. Did he freeze the tube and break the needle?

Banner fetches something from a table and grabs Loki's hand, muttering something about getting the needle out. Loki hisses from the pain, and manages to freeze Banner's glove, but he still covers their hand with gauzes. The white starts turning blue and freezing in some parts, Banner is about to do something about it but Loki hums a no.

"Do you want to try again?" he asks, Loki could feel how he was expecting a negative answer. But he nods a yes and covers his right hand, so he’ll uncover the left one and clench. This time, they don't dare looking at the needle and mentally play some random songs for a distraction. Banner tells him to clench again, and then gives him some cotton to press in the hole before he vanishes behind some machine.

"What were you humming?" Banner asks, making Loki's face go ablaze.

"I… em… a song," they mutter, and mentally berate themselves for the lack of words. Banner laughs, but not out of malice. And he hands over a paper box and a bag. Loki stares at him and tilts his head, but Banner tries to brush it off as "something that's always done when someone gets a blood test". As if Loki is also a fool, apart from blind.

They're about to get dismissed and leave when Friday tell them via the earpiece that Banner will ask questions when he sees the test results. Loki sighs, it's better to be the one who tells him, right?

"Ba-banner, about th-th-the te-te-te-test, y-you may so-see some… abnormalities in th-th-the tests. It's n-normal, yet-yet-yet uncomfortable," they trail off, feeling confusion on Banner's side instead of clarity.

"Would you mind being more specific? I need to know what to ignore,"

"Hormonal, m-mostly… on, em…" he groans in frustration, feeling like an absolute fool, "on me-me-menstruation hormones… and y-y-yes, I kn-know wh-what it implies. B-but, d-don't tell anyone, only Th-th-th-thor knows," they get it out, waiting for a myriad of feeling emit from Banner. But he just makes a small oh sound and hands over another paper package.

"I guess you'll find them easier than tampons. If you finish them, just come to me. Don't try to steal Nat's, you'll be disappointed, and possibly earn a chinned tooth," he smiles, but Loki can sense the warmth from saying Romanov's name. Love, he concludes, what a complication when towards your co-worker, from what he's heard.

"W-w-w-we're done?" they raise an eyebrow and look down at Banner, glad he doesn't look afraid. Interesting, just enough inspection, and he isn't afraid any more. What a gullible scientist.

"Friday will find anything we missed, and she can help Tony make you some glasses, if you decide you want them, or inspect the brain damage from the other guy," he answers. Loki nods and is about to turn around, before thinking twice about the answer he got.

"W-w-wait, wh-wh-wh-what brain d-damage?" they blink. Apart from the nightmares, thoughts, flashbacks, headaches and general fuckery, his brain works perfectly. Well, perfectly might be an exaggeration, but the Hulk hasn’t done anything.

"You're telling me you walked around with a dead ear since the Attack and didn't notice?" Banner is now the one to raise an eyebrow.

"I w-w-was in so-so-solitary c-c-confinement until y-y-yesterday. Not much to h-h-h-hear," they explain. But… he should have heard Thor coming today in the corridor…

"Yeah, your left ear is dead, or the nerves getting messages from there to your brain. You can thank the other guy, and there's nothing to be done," he isn't exactly mild on announcing another damage on this throughout fucked up body, but it doesn't exactly matter. So, they just nod and go back to hiding under their sheets, but this time they make Friday play some music, just to cover up the silence.

~~~~~~

Taglist: @lucywrites02 @electroma89 @the-emo-asgardian @rorybutnotgilmore @hybrid-in-progress @weirdfangirl2416 @darkacademicfrom2021 @nicoistrying

#marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fic #tw gender dysphoria #tw body dysmorphia #tw language #tw racism #tw needles #tw blood #tw intrusive thoughts #tw medical #tw self harm #tw child neglect #cw self harm #angst #heavy angst #hurt/comfort #jotunn loki #loki needs a hug #genderfluid loki #odin's a+ parenting #incomplete #work in progress #queer characters #ace characters #aro characters

[highpope]

Silver Keys - Ch. Four

JJ Maybank x OC x Topper Thorton // Soulmate AU

warnings: mentions of abuse, swearing

notes: HI! I rewrote the ending of this ch. instead of finishing my Industry paper. I really hope you liked it :) Let me know what you think!!

Tags: @allycat449-blog @ifilwtmfc @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @auds24 @messagesinthesky @collecting-stories @cognacdelights @sunsetholland @uwubonebabie

(if you wanna be tagged or removed message me)

JJ never liked his birthday. It was just the weight of the day and the pressure to make it memorable. It was never something he could give himself. He didn’t like to make a big deal about it either. It was easier that way. It’s not that he didn’t appreciate what his friends did for him, he really did.

JJ remembers for his 16th birthday his dad was passed out drunk the whole morning and Pope came and picked him up and they went surfing all day. Later they stayed at John B’s, sang happy birthday, and had brownies, his favorite. He had found out later that Kie and June had baked the brownies themselves. It was the best birthday he had ever had.

JJ’s birthdays were always a fight with his dad. Like a sad yearly tradition that left him more bruised than the day before. The day reminded his dad of his mom and how they weren’t in love anymore and that she left him. That’s JJ, the constant reminder of the shitty world they live in.

His mom left them both. JJ always clarified that. If his dad got to be bitter and drink himself to death, then JJ got to be upset about it. Even just a little.

He hadn’t lived with his dad in a few years, only stopping in once and a while to make sure he wasn’t dead, had paid the bills, and kept food in the fridge. He didn’t deserve it, but not doing it made JJ feel guilty.

JJ had made it clear to his friends that he didn’t want to draw attention to his birthday this year.

“We’re not doing any party shit, okay? I just wanna go surf.” He had said Sunday. No one argued, but Kie did insist they at least go to The Wreck Friday for dessert. They all agreed and would stay over at the chateau to get to the beach the following morning. That was before June stood him up for surfing. And before she said she’d go out with Topper Friday night. Pope seemed to be on her side which was just the icing on his sad, sad birthday cake. He said as such to him when they went surfing Tuesday morning.

“JJ, I am not on anyone’s side. There are no sides.”

“But you knew!” JJ responded, his thoughts were circling in his head.

Pope sighed, “I knew that he sort of asked her out back at that party, but I didn’t know he came into the shop yesterday. and,” he gave JJ a pointed look, “I didn’t know you’d be this upset about June going on a date.”

“I’m not. She can go out with whoever she wants to go out with,” he said matter of factly.

Pope just raised his eyebrows and went back to unloading his car. They hadn’t made it down to the beach yet, JJ too distracted to keep walking.

“It’s just Topper man,” JJ fake shivered.

“Listen, no one’s thrilled about it being him, but we at least owe it to June to act, I don't know, neutral about the situation.”

“Okay, okay,” JJ brushed off his comment.

JJ wanted to say that no one knew if Topper was really June’s soulmate or not, but he knew that he would tell JJ not to be rude and accuse him of being in love with his best friend. Which was not the case here.

“No, I’m serious JJ. Don’t make her feel bad about going out with him. We owe it to her. That and about a million other things.”

JJ let that thought roll over in his mind. He was right. June was the most caring person in the world, she had put them all first every single time.

“Yeah, I know.” He paused, “And what if it’s not him?”

Pope was already walking down the beach, annoyed at how long JJ was taking, “then we fuck his shit up.”

JJ laughed at his abruptness because that’s exactly what he would have said.

The both of them spent the next few hours in the water, but JJ couldn’t stop thinking about what Pope said. And that’s why, the next day, JJ got out of bed before noon and drove to the bait shop around the time June would be getting off. He knew she wouldn’t have driven there, it was too nice of a day. So, he sat in the parking lot and waited.

When she was finally leaving, she used the side door. JJ had to run to catch up with her, startling both himself and June.

“Hey!” he called out.

She froze before turning around, “what’re you doing?” “Can I drive you home?”

She thought about it before agreeing.

“I’m sorry,” JJ began when they had gotten out of the parking lot. She was quiet and very visibly tired.

“The JJ Maybank… apologizing?” So, she was still mad.

“Okay, I deserve that. Go ahead, give it to me.”

June stayed silent in the passenger seat, her head leaning against the window, “No, I just shouldn’t have said anything.”

He gripped the steering wheel tighter, “No, it was shitty of me to be all passive-aggressive about it. It really doesn’t matter who you go out with or who you don’t or if it’s Topper or whoever.”

He looked over at her, bouncing her leg up and down and still leaning against the door.

“Are we okay?” he asks

“Always.” It took a moment for her to look over at him but she smiled. JJ cleared his throat and shifted his eyes back to the road. He already felt better, like he could breathe properly again knowing she wasn’t pissed off at him.

“What’re you humming?” He asks.

Her eyes were closed when she answered, “I don’t know. It’s been stuck in my head all day.” and then she started humming again, louder for JJ to hear.

“Oh, I know that song!” He starts to sing along, filling in the words.

June laughs, “I’ve literally never heard that song. That’s wild.”

“It’s your soulmate?” JJ poses tentatively.

“Yeah, yeah I guess so.” She breathed.

When they parked he asked, “Do you really think it’s Topper?”

June shot him a look instantly. He held his hands up in surrender, “I’m not arguing. Just… curious.”

She sighed a little before speaking, “I don’t know. But I’d hate myself if I didn’t try to find out, ya know?”

JJ just nodded his head, she looked as if she wanted to say more, but stopped herself. June climbed out of the truck and yelled behind her, “See you Friday?”

“Of course,” he yelled back. He watched her close the door behind her before driving off.

JJ didn’t go straight back to the chateau. Instead, he kept driving, the radio at the lowest possible setting, all the windows down until he ended up at his dad’s house. He parked a few houses down and just watched. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to build up the courage to go in, or if he wanted to see his dad come out, or what. He stayed for a while, not thinking about anything specific, just breathing in the cool air and watching.

Sometimes JJ wanted so badly to hate his dad. He desperately tries to erase all traces of familiarity, every last thing about himself that could possibly lead someone to Luke Maybank. He hated him. He hated him for giving JJ his eyes and his rough demeanor. He used to wish to be softer, kinder, more gentle. Someone like Pope or June. Instead, he was steel, dented, and hard to fix.

Sometimes JJ wanted so badly to hate his dad and everything he had done to him, that he couldn’t.

On Friday morning, well Friday afternoon, JJ walked into the living room of an empty chateau. Half asleep, he stumbled into the kitchen and pulled out an empty Eggo waffle box from the freezer. Cool. He then dragged his feet over to the cabinets and pulled out what was left of the coffee grounds and began making a pot. He thought about calling Pope and making him bring some breakfast from his dad’s, but then he saw the note on the counter.

went to get groceries. can’t survive on stale Oreos anymore

John b.

Well, that answered that JJ thought as his stomach growled. Stale Oreos didn’t sound too bad now.

About a half-hour later, he heard someone on the front porch and thought it must be JB back from the store, hands filled with groceries.

He flung open the door, “God, I’m starving. What-” He stopped in his tracks. Standing in front of him was his dad. It felt wrong, having him here. In this place, in this safe space that he and his friends had created. Such evil and anger weren’t welcome.

“What’re you doing here?” JJ said when his mouth finally caught up with his brain.

“Is that any way to greet your father?” Luke spoke as if he was reading from a teleprompter. His words were slow and meaningless, slurred together without a thought behind them.

JJ stayed silent, disgust rising in him.

“Heard you were in the neighborhood.”

“No,” JJ said through gritted teeth, “must’ve been someone else.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy. I’m the one who taught you how.” He was inching closer. He reeked of alcohol and sweat.

“You didn’t teach me anything.” He spits.

“Listen to me you little shit” Luke started, laughing as he lunged forward. It was a dark, empty sound. It made JJ’s ears ring. He closed his eyes for a second and the laugh echoed. It encompassed him, became him. JJ saw every fight, every empty beer bottle, every stack of cash blown away, every sleepless night and it overtook him. He was the product of hatred. He was steel, so scratched and dented and kicked in that not even the best people could fix him.

When JJ opened his eyes, his body hurt and his ears were ringing and he thought his lip was bleeding. He was laying on the porch, propped up against the doorframe. Once he was sure his dad had left, he started to get up. Every thought in his head was replaced by the throbbing of his left side. The more he walked, the more he breathed, the quicker it morphed into anger, “Fuck,” he yelled, “He came here! Here. Here. He was here.” He repeated it over and over until the words had no meaning. He left through the backdoor and ended up at the overlook. His mind was racing, replaying the moments from earlier and every moment prior. JJ didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to be the little kid with the shitfaced dad who forgot his birthday. But he was, so he did. JJ cried until his eyes were puffy and his head hurt and the sun had started setting.

Now, JJ was sitting in John B’s spare room. He crawled in through the window, not wanting to run into anyone if they were home. They were probably trying to call, but his phone was in the living room from this morning. He didn’t want to have to tell them, watch as their eyes scanned over him to assess the damage. He looked around the room that had somehow become his own. There were clothes piled on the floor, a few swimsuits left from the others hanging on the door, and empty beer cans littering the ground. The bed frame was broken, making the whole mattress tilt slightly towards the left.

JJ didn’t know what it was like to call someplace home. He was always hesitant, afraid that someone would just pull the rug out from under his feet and he’d be left falling. He never called his childhood bedroom home, it was a house. With four walls and a shitload of bad memories. He wanted to scream, why did he still let his dad have this control over him? He threw a shoe across the room and stormed out before stopping short in the hallway. He could hear a voice in the living room.

“Kie, it’s fine. I’m not going to be late, I just stopped at the chateau to get changed.”

She paused.

“Because it’s faster than driving all the way back to my house.”

“Okay, see you in five.”

Shit, his birthday dinner. JJ tried to retreat to the room, but he wasn’t fast enough. June had already seen him, “J! I didn’t know anyone was here. Thought you’d be with everyone else by now.”

She was holding onto the door frame with one hand and attempting to pry off her heels with the other. She was wearing a sparkling purple dress that he didn’t recognize and her hair was lazily pulled up on top of her head. A wave of nerves flooded his body, but he suppressed the feeling almost as fast as it happened.

He cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah. I was just leaving. Actually.” He grabbed his keys off the counter. He wasn’t sure if she could see his bruised knuckles from there, but he didn’t want to give her the chance.

“I can drive,” she offered softly, “if you’ll wait five minutes so I can get out of this shit,”

He nodded his head, and slowly sat at the counter, “spare’s open if you want.”

She nodded, heading into the room. JJ took this opportunity to bandage his side in the bathroom. It was already bruised, so he put some aloe vera on before taping it up and changing into a different shirt. Pope had mentioned once that aloe vera can help inflammation. Ever since there’s been a bottle in the first aid kit. He liked the smell, reminded him of summer.

He cleaned the cuts on his hand and his lip like he should have when he first got here. The blood was dry on his face and cleaning it only made the cut reopen. Fuck it, he thought and met June back in the living room.

She had changed into jeans.

“Hey, is this mine?” she asked, pointing to the shirt she was wearing. It was a gray high school track t-shirt, “I forgot to pack one and saw this in the dresser.”

“Must be, I didn’t do track, hell no.”

She laughs before linking her arm through his and leading them to the car. JJ couldn’t help but wonder how her date went. She was in good spirits, better than usual he noticed. He wanted to ask, but he was certain he didn’t want to know the answer. He wanted to tell her about his dad, too, surprisingly. But he knew the face that she’d make as soon as the words were out of his mouth. And that hurt JJ more than the possible broken rib.

When they got to The Wreck, Mr. Carerra waved them to the back where the rest of their friends sat. It felt the most normal JJ had felt in a long time like time resets itself when the five of them sit around a wooden table eating ice cream.

He tried to focus on the conversation, on the light music being played through the restaurant, on the crickets outside, anything to ground him to this moment.

“JJ?” John B asked from across the table.

“Hey,” June said a little louder, hitting his stomach to get his attention. He winced slightly before responding, “huh? Sorry. I was, uh, trying to figure out what song was playing.”

Pope and Kie share a look before diverting their attention back to John B who repeated his question, “Are you excited to figure out your soulmate?”

“Oh,” JJ laughed, “yeah. Thrilled.”

“Come on, it’s kind of exciting. You’ve gotta admit that.”

“Yeah, I guess.” His eyes scan the table, stopping at each of his friends. Truthfully, he doesn’t want anything to change. He’d trade a soulmate for his friends any day. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

When Kie's dad finally kicks them out of the restaurant, he makes her stay behind to clean the tables. They all offer to help, but to JJ’s excitement she assures them to go ahead and that she'd meet back up with them in a little. Pope and John B hop in the van and start driving away before the rest of them are even in the parking lot, “See you in ten,” Pope yells from the passenger side.

Once June and JJ are in the car, she makes JJ close her eyes.

“Why?” he questioned.

“Just do it.”

“June, I really-”

“Please?”

He huffed and pulled down his hat to cover his eyes. He could hear her moving around next to him.

“Okay, open.” JJ did as he was told and was presented with a soft gift-wrapped present.

“Happy birthday,” she said sweetly. She was facing him, turned sideways in the driver's seat with her head resting on the chair.

“It’s not my birthday yet.” He said, meeting her eyes.

“I wanted to be first.”

“I told you not to get me anything.”

“I don’t care,” she chuckled.

“June,”

“Take the present, you jerk.”

He pulled back the paper revealing a keychain laid on top of some type of clothes. He held it up to get a better look and realized it was a surfboard with “OBX” written on it like from a tacky souvenir shop, “cute.”

She smiled, “now look at that.”

He lifted the crewneck in his lap, it was a light blue color and had stitching near the colors.

Before he could say anything June interrupted, “Found it in that thrift shop by my house the other day.”

“I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, are you kidding?” He laughed a little, “thank you.”

She smiled again, satisfied with herself before turning forward and starting the car.

JJ messed with the rings on his fingers, examining the bruises that had started to form/

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,”

“Have you… heard anything else? Like your soulmate, I guess.”

He felt her hesitate beside him, “Ya know what nevermind. It’s okay, you’re pretty sure it’s Topper and you really don’t have to tell me anything. It is totally okay. I was just-”

“Nervous?”

He sighs, “yeah.”

She clears her throat, “it’s not scary. At all. It is weird though, weird as hell. I mean it’s almost like if you weren't paying attention, you’d never even notice.”

She had the same far-off look John B got when he talked about this shit. It made him uneasy.

“But to answer your question, I’ve only heard it a few times.”

He nodded his head and mulled over what she said.

When he opened the door to the chateau, he was met by everyone standing in the living room, “happy birthday!”

“You distracted me!” He yelled at June shutting the door.

“It was my job!” she yelled back, “I had to give them time.”

He was laughing at everyone’s stupid party hats and the tray of brownies with sloppy “happy bday J” iced on top with a single lit candle. He made a show of blowing it out and pulled the others into a hug. He pretended to be annoyed at the effort, but deep down he had been so excited.

Later, he tried to etch it into his mind. He wanted to remember tonight as the best birthday he had ever had. He smiled as he fell asleep on a mattress that didn’t tilt to the left anymore in a room that he had made his home.

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