#side note i’m not blocking anyone for liking any colors i just want to clarify that lmao

[maxxxines]

i just think that if someone “blocked you for no reason” you are wrong and there was a reason lol

#reason doesn’t need to be serious either #it can be as simple as you like the color green and they hate seeing it #that’s a valid reason lol #text post #side note i’m not blocking anyone for liking any colors i just want to clarify that lmao

[spiltscribbles]

Prompt: Remus havung a bad day and being comforted by his Padfoot. Your writing is crazy good! Don’t let anyone (even yourself, think otherwise 🥰

~Notes: You are such a sweetheart Nonny<3<3 Thank you so much and I’m sorry i’m just a whiney lil bitch tbh.... But all the love<3<3<3

.-

227811209

remus has always been the analytical sort. The Marauder who could figure out every facet of success for an impending prank. Someone who always understands the other side of a story and tries to make everyone happy in any argument. The sort of person who prides himself in discerning life in shades of gray. He’s known since he was barely six years old that nothing was ever purely good nor purely evil. Life is a walking contradiction, himself being the epitome of that by simply existing as a sweater clad, vegetarian eating,, former prefect for twenty-eight days out of the month, before the final night where he tears himself limb by limb. That twenty-ninth day where he can barely stand even listening to his favorite Big Band records before the blood thirsty beast lurking just beneath his skin would shred himself to ribbons with vicious claws and wicked teeth and an unkempt fury as the wolf raged against the nearest escape route.

So yes, nothing is ever as daunting as one may believe at first sight. But even that doesn’t bring him any relief as he runs the pads of his fingers against the tattoo branded onto the soft flesh of his neck by a man with meaty hands that were none too gentle and a smarmy disposition that made Remus feel like both a dangerous predator and vulnerable prey.

227811209

“I’m glad you could cover up most of it with your shirt,” his father finally speaks once they’ve walked a block and a half away from the Ministry’s office, hands plunged into his jacket pockets as his eyes stray away from his only son— face a complicated reck of guilt and resentment and despair. And Remus supposes he appreciates his father’s frenzy on his behalf, but he can’t help but ache for his Mam right now. But she would’ve never been allowed to travel all the way to London and enter the headquarters of Wizarding Britain. No, not as a muggle without a lick of magic to be found.

“Maybe I’ll grow out my hair? Look like one of those rock and rollers,” Remus says, voice soaked with sarcasm to hide the hurt embedded into his words.

Lyall laughs with more breath than sound, his grin brittle in the way that looks like it could be blown to dust just by the wrong breeze. “I think you’d end up just looking like your mother even more drastically lad.”

Remus pulls a face, still smarting at a stoned Lily giggling about how much of a pretty boy he is. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Lyall smiles more genuinely now, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him close. “This doesn’t change a thing, you know that Remus, don’t you?”

“I— I know Tad.” Remus replies, quiet and measured as he wills back the tears that are threatening to spill out, hugging his dad’s middle and pretending that his declaration rings true.

He eventually detangles himself and nods up at him, and Lyall graciously doesn’t pry, just quirks the corner of his mouth and starts strolling once more.

“You think we should maybe grab some take out before apparating back? I know your Mam has been craving some of those samosas from that Curry shop in Whitecastle.”

“I, erm. I actually promised Sirius I’d spend the rest of the break over at his flat. He wanted to see me afterwards— You know…”

Lyall’s shoulders stiffen for only a breath before relaxing once more, still weary over Sirius and Remus’s subsequent relationship with him. And Remus knows it has to do more with his surname than the fact that he’s another man, but it’s still a tender spot in their relationship. “Ah, I understand. You’ve told your Mam I suppose?”

“Yeah, she’s fine with it. Just wanted me to write her once I got there.”

“Righto, well stay safe won’t you?”

“Course Tad, I’ll be okay.” Remus tells him, as if he’s at all okay to begin with after the spectacle of today. But it seems to be enough for Lyall, because he only smiles that bit wider, and tousles Remus’s caramel colored curls before bidding farewell and leaving with a snap of apparation.

.-

Remus reckons its strange that the moment he wanders up the stairs of Sirius’s Camden Town flat, it’s the first time he’s able to inhale without choking on air all day. Like just the mere thought of being enveloped into Sirius’s strong embrace is enough for him to actually begin feeling better.

Gingerly, he taps his wand against the wards of the flat, the door opening up immediately after recognizing him— The first addition Sirius had incorporated after purchasing it with his Uncle’s vast inheritance to him back in November.

Remus expected that he’d have to floo James’s home once stepping indoors, after all he knows that Sirius is still living their until school ends in June under the behest of the steadfast and nearly smothering Potters who have adored and practically adopted Sirius ever since second year. Though, he admits that he’s crippled with relief when he steps inside only to be met by the great, hulking image of a bear like, black dog lounging by the fire, tale waggling in a sort of despair that makes Remus’s heart ache.

“Pads?” he greets quietly, toeing off his boots before he comes closer. But nearly immediately, Padfoot’s head pops up and his intelligent gray eyes pinpoint on him before he leaps forwards to lick across Remus’s face in hello.

“All right, all right. Down you mutt,” Remus laughs, suddenly so thankful for the horridly green breakfast table that Sirius had refused to get rid of considering that it’s the only reason he doesn’t fall flat on his back over Padfoot’s assault.

And in a sudden, magical haze, dog transforms into a beautiful man— All dark hair that falls artfully over his forehead, and cutting angles meant for Roman sculptures and a body toned after years of Beater swings and practice laps.

He’s so gorgeous that sometimes Remus can hardly even breathe when in close proximity.

“I’ve been waiting,” Sirius explains unnecessarily, arms wrapped around Remus’s narrow waste and his eyes boring into Remus’s own without a seconds hesitation.

“I’m sorry, there was a—“

“No Moony, don’t apologize,” Sirius interrupts, his stormy expression suddenly fading to something softer— something more apologetic. “I’m sorry— I just— I was just worried.”

Remus exhales from his nose, dry and the furthest thing from amused. “Well I’m fine.”

“Fine?” Sirius prods, face indignant.

“As can be I suppose.” Remus clarifies, relishing how Sirius ever so gently presses there bodies together, close enough that there’s no space left  between them, dropping his head to Remus’s shoulder as his lips mouth against his skin in languid kisses. “I feel like I’m cattle,” Remus admits, finally lets the tears that were threatening to spill out earlier, pour from his eyes, and can feel Sirius’s own tracing down his back.

“You’re better than the whole lot of them combined, and if anyone gives you any trouble I’ll kill’m with my bare hands.”

Remus should probably snort at just how full hearty he sounds, or he should probably chastise Sirius for having this incessant need to take on the world for Remus. He should at least thank him for sparing Remus the false platitudes his father tried speaking. But then he feels Sirius’s salty wet lips kissing softly against his skin, against the tattoo marring him. And suddenly it feels like even the ugliest part of him could be made beautiful under Sirius’s touch.

~Send ME A Prompt For A Flash FIC~

#WOLFSTAR #REMUS LUPIN #SIRIUS BLACK #SIRIUSXREMUS #REMUSXSIRIUS #HP FIC #Spilt ink #flash fic #lol i'm a mess #i'm just out here answering the wrong asks #i'm sorry #jfc #i need to go die in a hole #bahaha

[todoroki-waifu]

ayoo! I saw that requests were open so here I am! Anyways can I requests that there's a fem reader that is best friends with todoroki and he's dating (anyone) and one day when class 1a is chilling in the living room having a movie night and a kid from the future time travel there and everyone is confused asf and sooner or later it comes out that the child was todoroki's and the readers child and everyone's like damn cuz yk he has a whole s/o next to him LMFAOSJJ IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO CONFUSUNG😭😭

I’m so sorry this is so late! 😢 Thank you so much for your request! And it wasn’t confusing. This was an interesting one. If I did misinterpret it wrong, I’m sorry! Lol hope you like it ^^ 

Note:  __(u/s) will stand for unknown/unnamed significant other for Todoroki.

Todoroki x F! Reader (kind of?)

Word Count: 1,987

Genre: Angst, slight fluff, sci-fi, maybe a little fantasy? (whatever time travel would fall under)

Warnings: Female reader and Todoroki with a gender neutral s/o.

----------------

Midoriya, Iida, Todoroki, __(u/s), and Jirou were preparing snacks for class 1a's weekly movie night. Iida, Midoriya, and Jirou were the first to leave the kitchen, bringing with them cups, beverages, napkins, straws, and disposable plates. While Todoroki finishes up placing a variety of chips into different bowls, he looks over at his __(u/s).

He smiles fondly at them, walking over to his partner and wrapping his arms around them.

"Need any help?"

"T-todoroki-kun! You scared me." __(u/s) was concentrated on microwaving the popcorn at the correct temperature, afraid of triggering the fire alarm.

"Really? Am I that frightening?" He pouts slightly.

"Not at all! I guess my mind was elsewhere. I wanted to make sure that I didn't burn the popcorn." __(u/s) laughed sheepishly before pecking his cheek.

Both heads turn towards the kitchen entrance when they hear the sound of steps entering.

"Relax! Just me." You saw their slightly stiffened look. They were a fairly new couple so they were still getting used to showing their affection in front of other people. Todoroki and his partner were only comfortable around you, being that you're his best friend.

You've known him for a while and have been there for almost an entirety of his childhood and up to now. He still has yet to tell his significant other about his past, the poor boy afraid of scaring his current lover. 

Well, he'll tell them some day. Just not right now. But that was how much Todoroki trusted you.

He was also so grateful that __(u/s) was comfortable around you. __(u/s) knew of his and your relationship and although they were a bit weary of you in the beginning, they ended up loving you later on. You proved that you retained no feelings for the half and half student and that you had the same intentions as the rest of class 1a. Which was to be his loyal and supportive friend.

"Didn't mean to interrupt. Mina and Toru wanted some ice cream." You quickly went to the freezing, grabbing two tubs of the frozen dessert along with two huge spoons.

"Don't take too long, bestie. I want to get some cuddles with __(u/s), too." You joked as you walked out to the common area.

------

Midoriya saw you approaching the group and was the first to assist you.

"Here, let me get that." He grabs the two cold containers, placing it on the table. "Who wants which flavors?"

He calls out to the gang while a few responded back and you helped the All Might fanatic. Once you finish passing out the bowls, Todoroki and his partner come out with a few salty snacks to add to the menu.

You sat in between Midoriya and __(u/s) on the floor with a plate full of assorted goods. Todoroki and __(u/s) share a bowl of chips and ice cream, the couple feeding each other occasionally. You smile at your best friend, so happy for him.

Although you were a bit jealous that he found love before you. You felt like a third wheel whenever both of them would ask you to hang out.

Oh well. Romance will come whenever the time is right. Besides, you weren't that focused on relationships nor did you really have anyone in particular that you liked.

Your thoughts refocused on the blaring music coming from the TV, indicating the start of the movie. You excused yourself after a while, heading to the kitchen to grab some more water bottles for yourself and for a few.

When you reach the kitchen door, a small swirl of blue energy blocks your way. You watch as the ball of energy expand and white electrifying rays spread from the center. Before you could react, the energized orb immediately explodes, the blast causing you to fall onto your bottom. Not only did you feel the force push you back, but you felt a sudden weight holding you down.

"__(y/n)! Are you okay?" Midoriya and Bakugou are the first to respond to the blast with Todoroki not too far behind them.

"Y-yeah, I think so?" You replied, carefully sitting up. You look down at the weight on your lap, noticing it to be a small child with ___(hair color) hair and a single streak of white and red. When they peer up, you see dark grey and light blue eyes staring back at you.

"Mommy?" The child blinked up at you then smiled brightly. "Mommy! I found you!"

"M-m-mommy!?" You screeched out, feeling the little one embrace you tightly.

"You're a mother?" Uraraka chimed in.

"I didn't know I was one!"

"Mommy, where did your big belly go? Did my little sister finally come out? Where is she? I want to meet her! I'm so excited to be a big sister!"

"Excuse me!? Little sister?"

"You had another baby?" Hagakure gasps loudly.

"How? I never got pregnant! I don't even have a boyfriend nor am I seeing anyone!" You answered her back then sighed loudly. "H-hey kid, ummm, first off, are you okay?" You wanted to make sure this tiny stranger wasn't injured.

"Yes, mommy! I'm okay."

"Alright, well, I hate to tell you this but I'm not your mom. But maybe I can find her for you?"

"What do you mean? Why do you say that? Of course you're my mom!" Her eyes begin to fill with tears.

"It's just kind of impossible. Listen, you said that I had a big belly and you were waiting for your little sister, but right now, I don't have that big belly. I didn't even know you were having a sibling."

"M-mommy, are you-you j-joking? It's not funny! Waah!" Your future daughter begins to cry loudly and you immediately hug her.

"Don't cry! Everything will be alright! We're going to find your mommy, okay?" You look around the room to your classmates, sending them a pleading look.

"Hey man, that's your brat." Bakugou stuffs his hands into his pocket, about to not involve himself in your little dilemma. He didn't have patience for children at the moment.

"Bakugou!" You scolded him. "She's not a brat. She's just lost and scared.  Take it easy on her. And if you want to be a hero, help me find the kid's parents. Isn't that what a hero is supposed to do?"

"I ain't no babysitter!"

"Dude, that's not manly at all! Let's help them out." Kirishima places a hand on his blonde friend's shoulder.

"Time travel!" Midoriya blurts out of nowhere. Once he receives his classmates' confused gazes, he finally begins to clarify. "I think she's really your daughter, __(y/n). She looks a lot like you and she seems really attached to you. She must've came here from the future when that blast happened. That's the only plausible explanation."

"I'm sorry that everything is confusing and scary right now, but I think I figured out what's going on." Midoriya squats beside you and your daughter, placing his hand on her back. Your daughter sniffles a couple times before looking at the green haired boy.

"Uncle Deku? How... how come you're so small?" She wipes her eyes while he could hear a few snickering in the background.

"Yes, well, I'm sure you're noticing that everyone is different. It's because-"

"Daddy!" Your daughter gasps loudly when she finally sees Todoroki. She jumps out from your arms and rushes to the dual quirk user, holding her tiny arms up to him. Todoroki blinks at the child, unsure of what to do.

"Huh? How come you're not holding mommy's hand?" She notices Todoroki's fingers linked with __(u/s).

"D-daddy?! You mean, Todoroki-kun is the father?" Midoriya shrieks at the reveal.

"W-what?" __(u/s) frowns deeply, slowly slipping their hand away from Todoroki. "You mean, you and __(y/n)? But I thought that... "

"Wait, no, that is impossible. She must have me mistaken for someone else. __(y/n) and I do not harbor any feelings for one another nor do we share any children together. Please believe me." Todoroki attempts to grab __(u/s)'s hands, but they back away quickly.

"Yeah! Shouto's right! We're only best friends. That's it. You know that. How can we have a kid together when we're not even a couple? He likes you; not me. I might be single, but I'm really not interested in anyone at the moment."

"Daddy, what is going on? I thought you love mommy?" Your poor daughter was unknowingly exacerbating the situation.

"I... I gotta go." __(u/s) starts to gather their things.

"Please, wait." Todoroki grabs their arm but they pull back suddenly.

"Don't, Todoroki. This is too much. I don't think I can continue this." He tries to plead with them to stay, but __(u/s) shakes their head. "Just, please leave me alone. And please don't contact me. Either of you." ___(u/s) eyes both you and Todoroki.

Your best friend watches sadly as __(u/s) leaves, the room being weighed down by the silent tension. It was only when Denki utters a word that brought back the noise.

"Damn... " The electric hero feels a sudden, sharp jab to his right side. He looks at the source to find Jirou glaring at him.

"Mommy? Daddy?" The little one blinks at Todoroki and then at you, uncertain of what just transpired. You knew your best friend needed space to himself for now so you decide that you would approach him later. Besides, you felt like you were responsible for his breakup. You felt too embarrassed to face him.

So instead, you focus on your little girl, gently grabbing her hand and pulling her to the side. Midoriya begins to explain to your daughter why things were so different and she slowly begins to understand.

-------

Todoroki walks outside of the dorm building, situating himself on the first few steps. His mind tortures him by replaying the scene where his relationship crumbles. He doesn't understand. What could he have done to preserve his romance with ___(u/s)?

But then his mind directs him to his future daughter. Todoroki was a bit angry, yes, but he couldn't blame the young child seeing that she came from a very different timeline. It honestly wasn't her fault.

Then who's fault was it? His? Yours?

No, it was no one's. If he was truly meant to be with you, why wasn't he jumping for joy? Because at this point in time, he was simply not attracted to you. He honestly didn't understand how you two formed a family together.

Then his mind wanders elsewhere.

Would being around you continue to ruin his future relationships? Would he truly be happy if you ended up being his lifetime partner? According to his future child, you two were going to have another one so that had to mean something.

But he didn't love you. 

Yes, he cared deeply for you and you both knew everything and anything about each other, but you and him had a different kind of bond.

Then the thought of sacrificing his friendship with you for the sake of his future relationships began to hurt his heart. But you'd understand, right? Todoroki wanted to find love eventually. He also did want to work everything out with __(u/s).

But would separating himself from you be the right answer? How would that affect the future? He felt so torn. He has a family with you in the future, but his heart does not yearn for you. And you don't love him back like that either.

Right?

As he thinks on his feelings for you, he goes back to when you two were children and when you first met. He remembers almost everything that you two shared together all the way up to the present. 

The arguments. The late night study sessions. The dangerous villain encounters. The hero internships. The cultural festival. The laughter.

Your warmth. Your kindness. Your smile.

His heart slowly starts to beat faster.

But he didn't love you, right?

#request #thank you so much for the request #i really hope you like it #boku no hero academy #boku no hero academia #my hero academy #my hero academia #todoroki x reader #toodorki shouto #todoroki #shouto #todoroki x you #x reader insert #mha x reader #boku no hero x reader #shouto x reader #i really love him #this was a really interesting request #x reader #reader insert

[vengfulfate]

The Malachite's Shady Past

Canon to 'Both of Them, and Only Them'

Melanie and Miltiades are on edge as the team arrives in Mistral. A past they would rather forget becomes unavoidable, and Ruby learns more about her girls than any of them expect.

AN - When I ended 'Both of Them, and Only Them' I stated that I may make one-shots in this continuity if I can think of scenes worth exploring. This is one of those one-shots.

---

Jaune, Ren, Nora, Ruby, and the Malachite twins followed Ruby’s uncle Qrow out of a tunneled walkway and into a crowded marketplace filled with as many cheery, colorful people as it was filled with dark corners for slightly shadier transactions. “The City of Mistral.” Qrow introduced the city the group with an exaggerated flourish with him arms.

“About time!” The ever boisterous Nora proclaimed. “Seriously, whose idea was it to walk again?” she continued, staring pointedly at Ruby.

Ruby nervously rubbed the back of her head. “Well, it’s not like there were any airships out of Vale at the time… and I seriously though it would only take a few weeks.”

“At the same time,” Melanie picked up, “you really thought it would only take a few weeks?”

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to be on my side?” Ruby frowned.

“Maybe once my feet stop hurting,” Melanie teased.

“Oh, well…” Ruby stuttered. “I could, um… give you a foot massage? Isn’t that a thing couples do? Or would that be weird?”

Qrow interrupted, “what’s weird is you discussin’ that right next to the rest us. Save it for the hotel.”

“Right,” Ruby nodded, turning bright red.

“Sooo…” Jaune cut in, desperate to change the subject, “how much further to Haven Academy?”

“Almost there,” Qrow informed them, “but I figured I’d take you kids on the scenic route.”

“But I’ve already got my tour guides!” Ruby boasted proudly.

“You do!?” Nora replied loudly.

“Mel and Miltia were born here,” Ruby confirmed.

“Really?” Jaune asked, his brow cocking. This was the first any of them heard of it their entire hike here.

“Well, yes,” Miltiades answered tentatively.

“But it’s been a few years since we left,” Melanie continued for her sister.

“Years? Musta left pretty young,” Qrow deduced. “Are you orphans or something?”

The twins’ gazes deterred, clearly uncomfortable with the line of questioning.

“That was a little blunt, Qrow,” Ren lightly scolded in his calm tones, less to reprimand Qrow and more to support the twins’ silence.

“Sorry,” Qrow played along.

The group continued forward, talking about the city. Seeing the chance of a quiet moment, Ruby fell behind a bit for a small semblance of privacy with her girlfriends. “Hey, are you two okay?”

“We’re fine, Ruby,” Melanie smiled.

But Ruby could tell it was a little forced. “You know you can talk to me, right? Even if you don’t… it’s okay to not be okay.”

“I promise, Ruby, we-” Melanie was suddenly stopped by Miltiades. The twins had one of their infamous silent conversations that ended with Melanie sighing. “It’s… a lot to take in. Being back here. Maybe we’ll elaborate later, but not in the street.”

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable,” Ruby assured. The young redhead then decided on a joke to break the tension, “Maybe we can talk while I practice my foot massage?”

It succeeded in bringing a small smile to Melanie’s and Miltiades’s faces. “We’ll see, Gem.”

A few streets later another shadow fell over Miltiades face. “What is it now?” Ruby asked, following her girlfriend’s line of sight to some nearby graffiti in the shape of a spider. “What’s that?”

The twins shared another concerned look. “It’s a gang sign,” Miltiades finally answered.

“And not a good one,” Melanie added. “We should probably catch up with the rest of the group.”

The twins cast a sly look backwards, looking for anyone following them. To their relief, they spotted no one. Unfortunately, that was only because their tail had already broken off, eager to deliver the information they had gained.

---

Things at Haven Academy did not go nearly as well as Qrow had hoped. A fact that sent the aged Huntsmen to the bars while everyone else went back to their hotel. It was a spacious booking, with rooms aplenty and a common area for the group. The twins and Ruby picked a room to settle in, and after months camping as a group on the road, they cherished the opportunity to cuddle alone behind closed doors.

Ruby was the first to break the silence. “So… you two don’t have to say anything… but we are alone now?”

Melanie sighed.

Ruby winced. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s not you,” Melanie assured. “It’s just not happy memories.”

Ruby shifted until she was sitting up with her back against the headboard. “Do you not like being back…?”

Melanie was unsure how to respond. Miltiades ended up being the one to answer, “we like being with you, wherever you are.”

“I’m sorry if I seem pushy,” Ruby continued. “It’s just that when Qrow said… what he said… it made me realize I don’t know anything about before you moved to Vale.”

“You’re right,” Melanie snapped, “you are being pushy.” The brasher twin suddenly stood up and marched out onto the room’s private balcony.

“Mel!” Miltiades called after her sister. Ruby shrank and emotionally folded in on herself, making the milder twin frown. “She’s not mad at you, okay?”

“She seems mad at me,” Ruby countered.

“Let me go talk to her,” Miltiades offered, standing up herself. “We’ll be right back.” Miltiades didn’t like leaving Ruby alone in her poor mood, but this conversation was one the twins had to have, sooner rather than later. She stepped out onto the windy balcony, noting how much ambient noise the door managed to block. She saw her sister leaning on the railing by the far edge. “Are you okay?”

“I just… wasn’t expecting this to come up,” Melanie explained.

“You thought we could get into and out of Mistral without it ever coming up?” Miltiades pointed out.

“Well, I didn’t know how long we’d be here!” Melanie defended. “I was hoping for an afternoon, maybe. In and out and on to the next place…”

“Even if it was years down the road, she would have asked us about our history eventually,” Miltiades argued. “And… I think she deserves to know.”

“I know that,” Melanie sighed. “But what do we say? ‘Our mom is a dead crime boss and the Spider gang are the ones who killed her’?”

“Maybe not be so blunt…” Miltiades added nervously. “But we have to say something. With everything else going on… the last thing she needs to worry about is us.”

Melanie sighed again, her face dropping into her hands. “Alright… just… give me a minute to mentally prepare.”

Miltiades nodded and reentered. Ruby hadn’t moved, and her mood hadn’t improved either. She looked up, quickly noting that Miltiades was alone. “So she is mad at me…”

“No, it’s just a difficult subject,” Miltiades assured. “She just wants a minute to compose herself.”

Ruby nodded. Miltiades sat back on the edge of the bed, the anticipation for the coming conversation raised her nerves as well.

All the pair could do was stay silent while they waited. And waited. And waited… Eventually, Ruby broke the silence, “did she say how long she would take?”

“No,” Miltiades shook her head, “but it shouldn’t have been this long…” The timid twin slowly stepped back out onto the balcony. The empty balcony. Instead of Melanie, there was only a piece of paper pinned to railing where she had been a moment before.

“Oh no…” Miltiades bolted over to the paper. Reading it made her heart drop. She gazed hard into the darkening surroundings as dusk turned to night. “MELANIE!”

The shout had Ruby dashing out onto balcony. “What’s wrong?” Ruby’s trained eyes were distracted a glint on the balcony floor. She knelt down to pick up a tranquilizer dart. She stood back up and turned to Miltiades. “Where’s Melanie?”

Miltiades didn’t speak, she only held out the paper. A note signed with the image of a spider.

Miltiades Malachite,

The Spider’s Web

One hour

Bring the redhead

---

Ruby and Miltiades gathered the others in the common room to update the lot. Nora and Ren looked concerned. Jaune looked angry. Qrow was conspicuously absent.

“Why on earth would they do this?” Nora asked after the explanation.

“I don’t know,” Miltiades answered.

“Are you certain?” Ren followed up. “The two of you have been nervous since we got to the city.”

“Does this have anything to do with what you two wanted to talk to me about?” Ruby tacked on.

Miltiades bit her lip. “We do have a… past, with the Spiders. But that’s all it is! The past!” she quickly assured. “I really don’t know why they would attack us now! They have no reason too,” Militades turned to her girlfriend before adding, “I promise.”

“And what about the part where they want Ruby to come?” Jaune pointed out. “That Tyrian guy wanted to kidnap Ruby. What if this is about our enemies?”

“We need Qrow,” Nora added.

“But where is Qrow?” Miltiades questioned.

It was Ruby’s turn to sigh heavily. “If he’s not back already, he’ll be no help by now.”

“We have to do something!” Miltiades urged. “What will they do to her if we don’t show up!?”

“So what, the five of us just go our own? To face Mistral’s most powerful street gang?” Jaune shook his head.

“And why not!?” Nora jumped up. “Just a week ago we killed a massive, terrifying Grimm no one else had ever even seen before! We can handle a few thugs!”

“I… wasn’t serious, Nora,” Jaune clarified.

“Well I was!” Nora stood her ground.

“We needn’t fight,” Ren pointed out. “We merely need to secure Melanie and escape.”

“But not fighting is boring,” Nora whined.

“Nora,” Ren lightly scolded.

Ruby crossed her arms. “Miltia is right, though. We have to do something. And Qrow’s not gunna be able to help, so it has to be us.”

Jaune groaned. “This is a bad idea. But I don’t think we’re gunna find a better one, so… let’s go.”

---

It didn’t take long to find The Spider’s Web. It was a bar in one of the city’s lower tiers, mainly populated by people who had no where else to go and staffed by the Spider Gang itself. It was more a base of operations hidden in plain sight rather than an actual drinking establishment. A fact made all the more clear by the small army of people guarding the entrance as the group approached.

A girl near the front took a step forward to greet them. “You can stow the grimaces, we just wanna talk.”

“Talk!?” Miltiades shouted, “and what, kidnapping my sister was a polite invitation!?”

“Would a cordial letter have convinced you to come?” The girl pointed out. “Look, we don’t want a fight. You’ll all be free to go after my boss has said her piece. Scout’s honor.”

“Like you’ve ever been a scout,” Jaune shot off.

The girl gave him an amused look. “I bet that sounded a lot more macho in your head, huh? But I get it.” She turned to Ruby, “as a show of good faith, we’ll even let you keep your weapons. But only you two are coming in, and after my boss says her piece this will all be over. No bloodshed.”

“You’ll think we’ll let you just separate us!?” Nora shouted.

The girl rolled her eyes. “I think you don’t have much room to negotiate. We’ve been generous enough letting you keep your weapons. You want the girl back, these are rules.”

Ruby thought for a moment before speaking up. “Two questions.”

“Can’t promise I’ll answer, but go ahead,” the girl conceded.

“Do the names Cinder or Tyrian mean anything to you?” Ruby asked first.

The girl flashed a confused look. “No?”

“And Salem?” Ruby questioned next.

“Isn’t that a movie character?” The girl responded, scratching her head.

Ruby searched the girl’s eyes for any hint of a lie, and found none. “Alright, we’ll follow your rules.”

“Are you sure, Ruby?” Ren asked.

“Just be ready,” the young leader told them. “If you so much as hear a plate drop, all bets are off.”

“We’ll be sure to give the clumsy waitress the night off,” the girl joked. “Come on, you two.”

---

Miltiades and Ruby were led into bar. It was full of Spider gang members, barring one familiar figure seated at a table near the back wall. “Melanie!”

The captured twin spun around at the sound of her name. “Miltia? Ruby? What are you two doing here?”

“Getting you, of course!” Miltiades hugged her sister as though she would vanish again if she let go.

The formally trained Ruby was the one to ask, “are you okay?”

“A little lightheaded from whatever they shot me up with,” Melanie answered. “Other than that, they’ve been treating me surprisingly well. But how did you two find me?”

“We were invited,” Melanie told her. “Apparently, the boss wants a word.”

“With us and Ruby?” Melanie found it hard to believe. “Why?”

“‘Why’ is a good question,” Ruby crossed her arms. “For example, ‘why’ do you two have a ‘history’ with a gang?”

Melanie’s fists clenched. The softer hearted Miltiades once again had to pick up the slack. “Our mother was a big player in Mistral’s underworld. The Spider’s were her lifelong enemies.”

“You told Yang you didn’t get involved in stuff like that,” Ruby reminded them.

“And we don’t!” Miltiades assured.

“When we were children, we didn’t know any better,” Melanie explained. “As we grew older, we realized we didn’t like watching over our shoulders all the time. People around us were constantly being hurt.”

“Or doing the hurting,” Miltiades added.

Ruby’s stance softened as she took in the story. “So… you two moved to Vale alone… and a moment ago you said ‘was’ when talking about your mom…”

“She disappeared,” Melanie elaborated. “Around the same time, the Spider’s started combing the streets. They were even spotted in the upper tiers, all the way up to the academy. We didn’t so much move to Vale as we escaped there.”

“We didn’t want to believe the rumors at first,” Miltiades picked up. “But the longer without so much a letter… it’s pretty obvious what happened.”

“I’m disappointed, girls. I thought I taught you better…”

The voice made the twins freeze. Ruby turned a curious eye to the source. A broadly built woman stepped out of the back room wearing a simple yet clearly expensive ball gown with open shoulders showing a spider tattoo on one of them. She approached the table with a wide smirk on her face. “Always confirm the body.”

The spell broke, and Melanie leapt up from her seat with an angry “You!?”

The woman let out a single chuckle. “Me.”

Ruby was utterly lost. “Who?”

Miltiades finally unfroze herself, though still couldn’t tear her eyes away from the Spider’s boss. “That’s…” she couldn’t finish the sentence.

The woman turned to Ruby to introduce herself. “My friends call me Lil’ Miss. These two, however, call me ‘mother’.”

---

The awkward silence after that little reveal persisted long enough for everyone to be seated and served surprisingly well made food. Only the mother touched their dish. The girls were either feeling to awkward (Miltiades), too angry (Melanie), or just too confused (Ruby) to think about eating. “Well, it’s not going to bite you,” the mother Malachite chuckled. “Eat up!”

“Why?” Melanie asked.

“What else do you do with food?” Lil’ Miss joked.

“I mean, why are you here?” Melanie’s hand slammed the table. “Why gather us? Why… just why!?”

“I heard you were in town,” Lil’ Miss told her, “and I missed my girls! I am sorry about the methodology, but I knew you two wouldn’t trust a Spider’s courier.”

“Did you really think that we would just treat this like a happy family reunion?” Melanie scoffed.

The mother slowly lowered her fork. “Perhaps that is a little optimistic of me. Very well, I’m sure you have questions.”

“Why did you never tell us you were alive?” Miltiades jumped in right away.

“Did you think it was a secret you two wanted out?” Lil’ Miss asked in turn. “My disappearance was part of an elaborate plan to take control of the Spiders. I launched an attack, then vanished. The spread themselves thin trying to follow every rumor I planted.” She smirked, “too thin. Next thing they knew their leadership was gone and it was either join me or join them.”

Ruby shuddered at the implication.

“Anyways,” Lil’ Miss continued, “one of those false rumors reached your own ears. By the time the plan was finished, you two had already left. Like I said, I knew you wanted out, so I let you be. I figured contactin’ you would only complicate your lives in ways you were tryin’ to escape.”

Melanie scoffed again. “Are you seriously trying to say you let us think you were dead because you cared?”

“I resent that accusation,” Lil’ Miss frowned. “I may not have been the best mother to you girls, but you are my flesh and blood. How do you think you got that job with Junior, hm? After everyone else turned you down, somehow the less-reputable man was the one eager to hire you?”

“I thought it was because of his nature he took a chance on us,” Miltiades admitted.

“Well, I couldn’t order him to take you in,” Lil’ Miss clarified, “but he did hear one hell of a recommendation.”

“And you’ve been keeping an eye on us ever since?” Melanie questioned.

“Of course,” Lil’ Miss nodded. “It broke my heart when Beacon fell. With the communications down, I couldn’t check up on you. I was worried sick. When a Spider spotted the three of you in the markets, I knew I had to see you.”

“The three of us?” Ruby caught.

Lil’ Miss’s smile returned. “What mother isn’t interested the person that captures their children’s hearts? Circumstances aside, it is nice to finally meet you, Ruby Rose.”

“Um, it’s nice to meet you too?” Ruby returned unsurely.

“I’m sure it isn’t, but I appreciate your kindness,” Lil’ Miss responded honestly. “I just hope you’re treating my girls alright.”

“Better than you ever did,” Melanie jabbed.

Lil’ Miss frowned once more. “I suppose I do deserve that one. I told myself I was doing it so you two wouldn’t struggle in life. I didn’t see how it was affecting you in the then and there.”

The topic ran dry, and the awkward silence returned. “Are you going to eat?” Lil’ Miss eventually asked.

“Do we have a choice?” Melanie asked.

Lil’ Miss sighed. “You can leave anytime you want.”

“Good,” Melanie stood.

“But please,” Lil’ Miss insisted. “Just humor me. One meal with my daughters…”

Melanie only stopped to spare her mother a dirty look before continuing to the door.

“Wait!” Ruby called out.

Melanie stopped. “You’re going to defend her? She’s a crook, Ruby, you basically just heard her admit to killing people!”

“Well, I know if my mom came back to life I wouldn’t care what she’s been doing the last ten years,” Ruby pointed out. “Well… I mean I would, but… you know what I’m saying.”

Miltiades shook her head. “Your mother was a saving people by day, baking cookies by night super-mom. Ours isn’t exactly in the same league.”

“But…”

“Ms. Rose,” Lil’ Miss interrupted. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but the girls are right. I only have myself to blame for their opinion of me.” She stood to face Melanie eye-to-eye, “but if you ever change your minds, I’ll be right here.”

Ruby frowned. She couldn’t say she understood, but she knew it wasn’t her choice.

“C’mon,” Miltiades took their girlfriend’s arm to guide her out. “We have people waiting for us anyways. I’m surprised Nora hasn’t already started breaking legs.”

The scene in front of the bar hadn’t changed much, an eerily still standoff with all people in the same places as a half an hour ago. “See?” The girl guard from before spoke to Jaune, “your friends are safe.”

“What happened?” Jaune asked the three of them.

The twins stayed silent. Ruby only responded with a, “just… don’t ask.”

Jaune was perplexed, but more than that he was happy that his friends were safe, so he took the advice and didn’t question it.

---

When the group got back to the hotel, they were greeted by the sight of a drunk Qrow and a farmhand with familiar eyes. “Where the hell have you all been!?” Qrow slurred.

“Where were we? Where were you!” Jaune countered. “We coulda used your help two hours ago!”

“I…” Qrow started firmly before a grin spread across his drunk face, “…found him.”

“Found who, the kid?” Nora asked.

“I found him…” Qrow chuckled and then practically cheered, “I found him!”

“He’s talking about me,” the kid confirmed.

“And you are?” Jaune questioned.

“Well, you might this hard to believe, but in a way… I am-”

“Nope,” Ruby interrupted, b-lining toward the farmhand. “No, no, no, no, no, no.” She repeated the word until she reached the boy and planted her hand over his mouth. “We have had a very long night. Some,” she gestured to the twins, “longer than others. I don’t think we’re ready for yet another head-spinning revelation, so please, is there any way this can wait for tomorrow?”

The boy looked from side to side, as though listening for something, before slowly nodding.

“Thank you!” Ruby sighed in relief. “Girls, let’s go cuddle.” Melanie opened her mouth, only to be cut of as well, “and before you say you’re not in the mood, I remind you that I am an expert in cuddles, and after that, you two definitely need some.”

Melanie chucked and smiled. “I was going to say cuddles sound nice,” she assured. The twins followed Ruby upstairs, finally, to some proper peace and quiet.

---

A few days later, Lil’ Miss was starting her day with the newspaper. She read about how a group of faunus straight from Menagerie stopped the White Fang from carrying out a terrorist attack on Haven Academy. She also knew Ruby, and by extension her daughters, had business in Haven that night. She wondered if the two events were connected.

As she mused over the printed word, a customer entered her bar. A giant monster of a man, tanned, and with rather magnificent mutton chops. “Looking for information?”

“People,” the man corrected in deep tones. He tossed forward a few pictures. Lil’ Miss was an expert in hiding her emotions, which came in handy as she recognized the people in an instant. Ruby Rose and the people she was travelling with.

“Come back in a day or two,” Lil’ Miss told him.

“A day or two?” The man questioned.

Lil’ Miss shook her head. “There are a lot of people in Mistral. I only keep eyes on the important ones. These people are not important. It will take me time to gather the info, but trust me, I will find them.”

“Very well. Two days.” The man left without another word.

The same girl that traded barbs with Jaune a few days before turned to Lil’ Miss. “I assume we won’t be telling him they’re headed for Atlas?”

“Of course not,” Lil’ Miss answered. “But we have two days to make a believable lie. I hear Vacuo is nice this time of year.”

“People don’t like being sold false info,” the girl pointed out.

“Then we won’t sell it,” Lil’ Miss nodded. “We don’t need his money anyways. We just need to steer him clear of my girls. Make sure there’s room for error in the info packet, just in case.”

“Clever, ma’am. I’ll get right to it.” The girl left to perform her duties.

Lil’ Miss looked back down to the pictures, eyes passing over her daughters in turn before settling on Ruby. “What kind of enemies do you have, Ms. Rose? It’s up to you to keep my daughters safe. I hope you’re up to the task.”

---

I understand I just implied something that has to potential to cause much larger changes to RWBY's narrative. That realization, that Lil' Miss might not want to endanger her children, is precisely what I wanted to acknowledge here. However, I have neither the creativity nor the investment to follow a full fic exploring those changes. So I apologize, but this will remain a one-shot.

#rwby #fanfiction #ruby rose #melanie malachite #miltiades malachite #Ruby x Twins #polyamory

[losersclubbitches]

You’re Number 1

Let me preface this with the fact that I’m not sure who this is for, but hopefully I figure it out. Please let me know if you asked for this so I can dedicate it to you.

“Richie Tozier! Wake up, sweetheart!” Richie heard his mother call sing-songily from the other side of his door.

“Coming Ma!” he called back, rolling out of bed in a most dramatic fashion and heading over to his closet. He picked out a bright blue Hawaiian shirt with pineapples on it, a white shirt to go underneath, and some tan cargo shorts. He pulled on plain white socks and his black Vans and headed to the bathroom, lazily taking a comb to his hair as he brushed his teeth. When he made it to the kitchen, he saw his mother cooking eggs at the stove and his father brewing a pot of coffee next to her. The baby blue 2s floated above their heads and he smiled when they flashed red as the two kissed.

“Rich, we’re down here,” his mother reminded when she caught him staring. He shook his head to clear the thoughts and looked them in the eyes.

“Right, sorry. It’s just, the numbers are so distracting,” he spoke, giving a sheepish smirk.

“I know, sweetheart, but just try, okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Want some coffee, kiddo?” his dad asked, turning to him. Richie smiled.

“Sure!”

“Creamer?”

“Whatcha got?”

“Caramel and hazelnut.”

“I’ll take both, please.”

“Any preference how much coffee vs creamer?” his father inquired.

“50, 25, 25,” Richie answered.

“Coming right up.” His father prepared the coffee and set that and a plate of eggs and toast in front of Richie, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“Thanks, Dad.” When he was done with breakfast, his mother dropped him off at school, kissing him goodbye as he spotted his friends leaning against the wall, the bright yellow 3s distinguishing them from the rest of the crowd of colors and numbers. They waved him over and he went, waving, too. As he got over there, Bev offered him a cigarette and he took it, lighting it with the lighter from his backpack pocket. He heard a distant call from the drop-off lane.

“Bye, Eddie-Bear. Have a good day at school,” a woman’s voice spoke. Richie cringed at the voice. It was loud and grating and would have spiraled him into an overload, had he not been smoking.

“Bye, Ma. I love you,” a boy replied. The car door closed and Richie flinched. When he looked, the car was about 70 feet away. He shouldn’t have been able to hear either of them from that distance. Not to mention, the boy was looking down at his black converse.

“Hey!” someone called and the boy looked up. Richie caught his eye for a moment and his heart stopped. The boy had innocent brown doe eyes with a glassiness to them that Richie couldn’t resist. His brown hair was neat and swept to the left side of his face and he was wearing an anxious expression. Overall, he was beautiful and Richie’s heart fluttered dangerously.

“Hey, who’s that?” Richie asked his friends, distractedly turning to them. He didn’t want to take his eyes off the boy.

“Eddie Kaspbrak,” Bev told him, putting out her cigarette against the brick wall and throwing it into the trash can nearby. “He just moved here last week.”

“Yeah. I did a tour with him on Monday,” Ben spoke from where he was perched on the half wall of the steps. “Why?” Richie glanced at him, then out of the corner of his eye, saw Henry Bowers and his gang stalking over to Eddie.

“Uh, no reason.” He put out his cigarette and rushed over, getting there just in time to stand in front of the boy now on the ground where Henry had shoved him. “Hey, leave him alone,” Richie demanded and very much regretted it as the large, black 10s with red Xs appeared before him.

“Hey, Tozier, we’re down here, ya freak,” Henry reminded, shoving Richie’s shoulder. Richie stumbled back, but didn’t fall.

“Can’t you idiots find something better to do?” Richie demanded, standing his ground.

“You wanna say that again, Tozier?” Henry hissed.

“You heard me, Bowers. Unless you’re so stupid your brain stopped processing multi-syllabic words.”

“How’s this for processing, asswipe?” Henry punched him and Richie fell, hitting his head on the grass. He heard someone gasp loudly in his ear, but no one was that close to him.

“Richie!” He heard Ben call and opened his eyes to see his friends rushing over. He heard the bell ring and noticed everyone around him head inside except his friends and the new kid. Eddie, God, was he okay? Richie sat up and looked at the boy, who was a few feet away and breathing heavily and sounding like a teapot at a boil.

“Eddie, are you alright?” Richie asked, noticing the slur in his voice. He shook the fog from his brain and sat up, crawling over to the other. Eddie nodded and pulled an inhaler from the fanny pack strapped to his waist and took a hit from it. His breathing slowed and got less whistle-y.

“Rich, are you okay?” Ben asked, kneeling next to him. Richie waved him away and crawled closer to Eddie.

“Eds, are you okay?” he questioned, reaching out to the boy. Eddie flinched back but quickly relaxed and nodded.

“I’m fine,” he assured, standing up and brushing off his pants. “Thanks for standing up for me. You didn’t have to do that.” Richie stood up as well, assessing the damage to his elbows.

“No worries, Eds. You don’t wanna mess with Bowers and his gang. They’ll either pummel you to a pulp or make you do their bidding,” Richie instructed.

“Richie, what the hell were you thinking?” Stan chided, arms crossed.

“To be honest, I wasn’t,” Richie replied.

“Figured,” Stan muttered.

“We should probably go. Don’t want to be late for class,” Ben spoke. Everyone nodded and headed into the school building, separating and heading to different classes.

“What’s your first class, Eddie?” Stan asked.

“U.S. history with Mr. Scardons,” Eddie answered.

“Same as me and Rich,” Stan told him. “I’m Stan, by the way.” He stuck out his hand and Eddie hesitantly shook it.

“Nice to meet you,” Eddie spoke.

“Be right back,” Richie cut in, patting Stan on the shoulder before turning off down a separate hallway.

“Where’s he going? Class starts in two minutes,” Eddie pointed out.

“Richie’s never on time to class,” Stan clarified.

“Don’t five tardies add up to a missing? And three missings add up to truancy?”

“Yeah. Richie’s smart, though. He’s never late enough to count as tardy.”

“Oh.” They headed into the classroom and took their seats, leaving one between them for Richie. The teacher was there, sitting on the edge of his desk with a stack of papers in his hand.

“Good morning class. We’re gonna start a little early today,” he greeted, giving the papers to a student in the front row. “So, we’re gonna be starting our projects within the next week or two. The paper that’s being passed around is your assignment sheet. Make sure to read it carefully. The second bell rang out and Eddie startled slightly.

“It’s okay. You’ll get used to it,” Stan comforted, taking two papers and handing them to the other.

“I hope so,” Eddie replied, smiling at Stan. The door to the classroom opened and Richie walked in, head held high, taking his seat between Eddie and Stan. Stan handed him the assignment sheet.

“Thanks, Stanny.”

“Mr. Tozier. Glad to see you here. Any chance you can show before the bell?” Mr. Scardons asked.

“Starting class early, Mr. Scardons? Any chance you could cut me some slack?” Richie jested, smirking. The teacher just rolled his eyes and turned to the board, starting to write. Stan and Eddie grabbed out their notebooks and Richie pulled out his laptop and started the program, then opened his notes and started to type. Once class was over, the three left, talking the whole way. Stan and Richie parted ways until lunch. At lunch, they met up with the rest of their friends. Eddie and Richie showed up a little later than the rest, smiling and talking.

“Anyway, thanks for letting me borrow your book today, Richie,” Eddie expressed as they sat down.

“Of course. It’s not like I use it, anyway,” Richie replied. “I have the audiobook.” He pushed the food around on his tray, separating it, eyes trained above the heads of his peers. Stan clicked his tongue, drawing the other’s attention back down. Eddie frowned slightly, but dropped it, figuring it wasn’t his business. But Richie wasn’t eating and while Eddie didn’t know what he’d had for breakfast, he did know that people need three meals a day.

“Are you not hungry?” he asked, taking a bite of his sandwich. Richie snapped back to reality, looking at him.

“Hmm?”

“Are you not hungry?” Eddie repeated. Richie shrugged.

“Eh.” Eddie started to say something, but was cut off by a yell that originated from across the cafeteria.

“Hey, Tozier! What do you think you’re doing?” the guy from before, Bowers, Eddie assumed, called, stalking over with the rest of his gang.

“Eating lunch,” Richie responded, quirking an eyebrow.

“I meant, what do you think you’re doing with our fresh meat, retard?” Eddie flinched at the word; it hurt and it wasn’t even directed at him. Richie didn’t seem affected by it at all, though. 

“He doesn’t belong to anyone, Bowers, back off,” he sneered, standing up and blocking Eddie from their view. He looked back at Eddie and felt his heart clench. The boy looked scared, breathing heavily, but he was looking up at Richie with adoration. Richie’s heart fluttered, but he drew himself back to the matter at hand. Henry stepped forward.

“What did you say, freak?” he demanded. Richie frowned.

“I said Eddie doesn’t belong to anyone. He’s new here and he doesn’t need your bullshit, Bowers,” he told the other. He felt Eddie grab his hand comfortingly.

“He’s fresh meat, Tozier. Means he belongs to us. You should remember that,” Henry reminded, smirking to his friends.

“That was a mistake, Bowers. You should know about mistakes, you were one,” Richie bit back without thinking. Henry and his friends stopped laughing and the older boy stalked forward, getting in Richie’s face.

“What’d you say to me, Tozier? You know I can still beat your ass and no one would know, right?” Henry hissed. Richie reeled back.

“Jesus, ever heard of a toothbrush? Your breath reeks.” God, he wished he’d stop talking.

“You tryin’ to get killed, Tozier?” Belch Huggins chimed, snarling.

“You wouldn’t kill me. Especially not with the information I have,” Richie replied coolly. The older boys reeled back and Richie smirked.

“Oh, yeah. You forgot about that, didn’t you? The kid stays with us or I ‘accidentally’ leak your little secret all over the web,” Richie threatened.

“Fine. Keep your little boyfriend, freak. Have fun with the loser group,” Henry growled, turning on his heel and stomping away, his groupies following him. Richie sat back down and continued to shove food around his tray.

“Hey, thanks,” Eddie expressed. Richie looked at him.

“For that? Ah, that was nothin’, Eds. Don’t mention it,” Richie dismissed, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

“I mean, it was something. And I’m thanking you,” Eddie asserted. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, well, they’d either make you their lackey or their punching bag and you’re too cute to be either of those,” Richie divulged absentmindedly, taking a small bite of his food. Eddie silently cheered; Richie was actually eating a little and he counted that as a win. But then his mind brought him back to what Richie had said.

“Y-you think I’m cute?” he asked, blush rising in his cheeks. Richie didn’t seem to notice, staring at his plate as he shrugged.

“Yeah.” He took another small bite and Eddie smiled.

“I’m glad you’re eating,” he mumbled, looking down.

“Well, gee, Eds. Didn’t know you cared about a fella that much,” Richie exaggerated, putting on a deep Southern Voice, placing a hand over his heart. Eddie blushed even more, staring at his own lunch and taking another bite.

“Well, studies show that eating three meals a day pretty much every day is beneficial for cognitive function,” he recited.

“Well, thanks, Eds.” Stan scoffed, bringing the two back to reality.

“I tell you that all the time, Rich,” he grumbled.

“Yeah, but you’re more naggy, like an overbearing mom. Eddie’s like the sweet mom who really cares,” Richie replied, looking at his friend.

“Are you-” Stan gaped at him and Richie laughed.

“Don’t worry, Stanny. I’m just yankin’ your chain. I appreciate you for looking out for my well-being. Both of you.” They both gave nods of acknowledgement and continued their own lunches. After the bell rang, they parted ways again, heading for their last class of the day. Eddie, Bev, and Richie all had chemistry class together. Bev and Richie, per usual, walked in a little over a minute after the bell rang. The teacher just sighed and continued the lesson. Richie and Bev spent the whole lesson whispering to each other while Eddie took notes. Richie was also taking notes, but was clearly more focused on his conversation. Once class had ended, Eddie packed his things to head home but Richie caught his wrist. Eddie felt the area get warm along with his cheeks, but Richie didn’t seem to notice.

“Hey, Eds. We were all planning on going to study at The Clubhouse. Wanna come?” he offered.

“I’ll have to ask my mom, but hopefully I can,” Eddie replied, nodding.

“Cool. We’ll meet at the library at three.” Richie let go of his wrist and smiled widely, walking away with Beverly. Eddie hid his wrist under his books and kept his head down as he left the school. His mother was waiting in the pickup lane for him and she honked.

“Eddie-Bear!” she called. Eddie heard some people snicker and ignored them, shuffling to her can and tucking himself into the front seat. He buckled himself in and his mother drove off, not even noticing his silence. “How was your first day, Eddie-Bear?”

“It was good. Hey, Ma? Some friends invited me to study with them at the…library later. Can I go?” he asked.

“Are these ‘friends’ people that I’d approve of you hanging out with?” she questioned. Eddie thought about it. Richie was absolutely the kind of person his mother despised. He was loud and always late and Eddie was absolutely sure he smoked. But then he thought of Stan and how the others seemed like model students and nodded.

“Yeah. They’re part of this after-school study group and they’re really nice,” he told her, heart picking up when he remembered what Richie had done for him. His wrist was still warm and felt like it was glowing.

“Alright. What time does the group meet?”

“Three.”

“Alright. I can drop you off now so you’ll be early since it’s on our way. Is that alright?”

“Yeah, Ma. That’s fine.”

“You have your afternoon snack?” his mother inquired as she stopped in front of the library.

“Yeah, Ma. I have it.”

“And your phone?”

“Yep, Ma. Got it all.”

“Alright, Eddie-Bear. Have a good time. Call me when you want me to pick you up and don’t leave the library with anyone who seems unsafe, okay?”

“Okay, Ma. I won’t,” Eddie vowed, noticing Richie smoking as he sat on the steps.

“Bye, Eddie-Bear. I love you.”

“Love you, too, Ma.” She planted a sloppy kiss to his cheek and Eddie cringed away slightly.

“And stay away from that hooligan. I don’t want him infecting your delicate lungs.” Eddie got out of the car.

“I will Ma. I’ll see you soon.” With that, his mother left and Eddie made sure she was gone before walking over to Richie.

“Hey, Eds. The others are already at The Clubhouse. Ready?” Richie greeted as he put out his cigarette. Eddie was surprised he didn’t bring up his mother.

“Yeah. I just need to use the restroom first.”

“Want me to hold your stuff?”

“I’m okay, thanks.” Eddie headed inside and went to where the signs said the bathroom was. When he finally set his books down and examined his wrist, he saw that the name on his wrist was glowing. RICHIE. Could Richie Tozier be his Soulmate? The one he’d been trying to find since he noticed the mark when he was five. There had been a couple other Richies in the other towns he’d been to, but none of them made the mark glow. So he and his mom had moved shortly after. He could tell she wasn’t happy about him having a male Soulmate, but she was happy that he had a Soulmark in general. Denoting someone who would be perfect for him by nature. No one had Soulmarks to tell them anymore. Everything was left up to chance for everyone but the lucky few who got them. But Richie didn’t have a Soulmark that Eddie could see. They were usually on the wrist, but sometimes appeared on someone’s shoulder.

“Hey, Eds! You comin’?” he heard Richie call from the other side of the door. Eddie splashed water on his face and tugged on a sweatshirt from his bag to cover his Soulmark, then left the bathroom, running right into Richie, who caught him before he could fall back. Eddie felt his Soulmark burn his wrist and pulled back, clearing his throat.

“Uh, thanks, Richie,” he expressed, a heavy blush on his cheeks as he looked up into Richie’s brown eyes. There was a pause as Richie’s gaze trained above his head, shocked look on his face. They stood like that for a minute before Eddie caught Richie’s attention, noticing that people were staring at them. “Richie, are you okay?” Richie snapped out of his daze and stared in Eddie’s eyes and Eddie felt his heart jump.

“Uh, yeah. I’m alright. Thanks, Eds.” This time, Richie cleared his throat, pulling further away and dropping his hands. “Shall we go?” he offered, starting to walk away. Eddie followed him, staring down at his Converse.

“Hey, Rich?” he started as they hit the edge of the woods. Richie looked back, eyes still a bit dazed behind his glasses. Eddie wondered what he’d seen.

“What’s up?”

“Do you have a Soulmark?” Eddie asked.

“I don’t have one on me, but a lot of people don’t anymore. Why?” Richie replied, running a hand through his hair.

“Uh, no reason. Just wondering.” That was a disappointment. What if Richie was his Soulmate but he wasn’t Richie’s? He’d heard of a case like that where the person had then had hanahaki disease and died from choking on a clump of flowers. He didn’t want a death like that. He had to be Richie’s Soulmate. He just had to. He and Richie headed to a secluded part of the woods and Richie opened a trapdoor in the ground, leading Eddie down into The Clubhouse. It was a large space for such a small opening.

“Woah. This is really cool,” Eddie mused, looking around in awe.

“Thanks. I designed and constructed it,” one of the boys, Ben, Eddie recognized, chimed.

“Is it safe?” Eddie asked, feeling his lungs compress with the dust in the air. He took a hit from his inhaler.

“Perfectly. It’s not done, though, so we can clear all the dust out soon if you want,” Ben offered.

“That’d be great, thanks.” Eddie stuck out a hand to the other. “I’m Eddie, by the way. I don’t think we formally met.”

“Ben Hanscome.” As Eddie made his introductions, Richie motioned to Stan to follow him outside and headed back up the ladder. He sat down against a tree, then pulled a cigarette from the pack he’d gotten after school and lit it, taking a long drag to clear his head.

“Rich? What’s wrong?” Stan asked, closing the trap door behind him. Richie took another long, slow drag from his cigarette. He ran a hand through his hair, but didn’t say anything. Stan sat down next to him. “Richie, talk to me. What’s going on?” It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Richie spoke, putting out the cigarette against the tree and burying the butt in the grass.

“Stan, I think Eddie’s the 1,” he mumbled, so quietly that if Stan hadn’t been shoulder to shoulder with him, he wouldn’t have heard it.

“What makes you so sure?” he inquired.

“I couldn’t see his number even when we met. But at the library, I swear, I saw a glimpse of a 1, Stan. And I think he’s got a Soulmark. He asked me if I had one and I swear, when I grabbed his wrist after class, I saw his arm light up,” Richie relayed.

“Light up?”

“I dunno. I only saw it for a second. But I could have sworn it was blue, purple, and pink.”

“Like the bi flag?” Stan guessed. Richie nodded.

“Yeah. But I can’t be sure if any of this is right.”

“How will you be sure?”

“I have to kiss him. And that is not going to be easy.”

“We could play ‘Spin the Bottle’,” Stan suggested. “As a break from homework.”

“Stan, I could kiss you!” Richie exclaimed, eyes bright. Stan held up a hand.

“Save it for Eddie. Let’s go.” The headed back down into the Clubhouse and started their study session. When it looked like everyone was getting restless, Stan perked up.

“Anyone up for ‘Spin the Bottle’?” he posed, quirking an eyebrow. The others gave forms of agreement, but Eddie looked skeptical.

“Is that safe?” he asked, worrying his lip as Stan pulled a bottle from his backpack.

“You can do cheek kisses if you want, Eds, but it’s more fun on the lips,” Richie told him. “Plus, we don’t have any diseases, if you’re worried. My first kiss was Stan and he’s the cleanest person I know.” Eddie saw the blush on Stan’s cheeks as he averted his eyes. Maybe those two were dating and Eddie was going to ruin their relationship with all his stupid “Soulmates” business. He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of the bottle spinning in the dirt, landing on Bev. She and Richie met in the middle of the circle, hands on cheeks in a passionate kiss. When they pulled back, Richie smirked.

“New lipgloss?” he inquired, licking his lips. Bev nodded, sitting back. “Vanilla. I like it.” Bev beamed, then spun the bottle. It landed on Bill and they kissed, just a quick peck, but it left a pink blush on Bill’s cheeks. He spun and hit Stan, who spun and hit Richie, rolling his eyes. Richie kissed Mike, who then kissed Ben, who gave Bev a sweet kiss who then spun Richie again, who landed on Eddie. Eddie blushed and glanced over at Richie, who looked to be just as nervous.

“We don’t have to kiss, Eds,” he assured. “It’s really fine if-” Eddie cut him off by slamming their lips together. He felt Richie tense for a moment and almost pulled back, but then the other relaxed into the kiss, bringing his hands up to cup Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie could feel a boiling warmth everywhere Richie was touching him, down to where their knees pressed together just slightly. He felt the warmth surround him and fill him up and all he wanted to do was just keep kissing Richie, anywhere, anytime, including in front of his mother. But the urge to breathe was just slightly stronger than the urge to keep kissing and so Eddie pulled away, panting slightly and looked at Richie, who was staring at him, eyes flicking between his lips and just above his head.

“What? Is there something on my face?” he asked jokingly, but Richie nodded, pulling up his phone’s camera. Eddie looked at himself. His lips were glowing pink, purple, and blue, as were his cheeks. When he looked down at his knees, he saw the same, albeit muted, colors coming from under his jeans. Richie Tozier was his Soulmate. But was he Richie’s?

“Eddie, you’re my Soulmate. I know that this is all really weird, but my Soulmark works a bit differently. See, I can see my relationship to people with numbers and colors above their heads. I can also hear everything my Soulmate hears,” Richie explained. staring at his hand twisting together in his lap. Eddie reached forward and grabbed them, making his own light up.

“I guess we both have color Soulmarks,” Eddie pointed out. “I light up wherever my Soulmate touches me. I can also feel whatever they’re feeling when we touch.”

“Yeah? What am I feeling?” Richie tested. Eddie closed his eyes.

“Elated. Nervous. A little scared. Hungry,” Eddie relayed. When he opened his eyes, he saw Richie staring at him, smiling widely. He could also feel the love Richie had for him. This, he could get used to.

#reddie #it #stephen king #Original Work #richie tozier #stanley uris #eddie kaspbrak #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #Henry Bowers #fanfic #soulmate #soulmarks #au

[fight-for-humanity]

Hunger

[cw: violence, swearing]

A dim glow of the street lamps illuminated the quiet town of Redacre. From this sight alone, one might make the assumption that it was a normal, peaceful town, where families gathered around the dinner table each evening to have a meal together and spend time in each other’s company, or where kids would go to school to meet up with their friends to laugh, joke, and talk about the most recent gossip or who they were going to junior prom with. But, I knew better. We all did. Dinner tables were often empty. Families were too tired to spend time together, either because they never slept or they dug down in the labyrinth hidden underneath the town all night. Innocent teen gossip was replaced by the somber air surrounding the discussion of who went missing the previous night.

And then there were kids like me, sorry bastards who were fortunate enough to hear Voices in our heads and wake up in the middle of the night in odd places where we didn’t initially close our eyes. I was a member of the esteemed Blackout Club who sought to disrupt the nightly operations of one of these mystifying Voices, often at the expense of a good night’s rest. Fortunately for me, it was the last objective of the night. Upon its completion, I would be able to head back to the boxcar for a quick nap before sneaking back home. Some nights, I had a group to keep me company, but not this night. Schedules clash and accidents happen, especially with the risky work we’re doing. I zipped up my black hoodie to stave off the cold Virginia air. I wanted to get this mission done as soon as possible.

Bzzzzzz.

I froze suddenly, then grimaced. Damn phone. I wish I could just turn it off during missions, but HQ insists we leave our phones on so they can track our progress and send us updates while we’re “out in the field”. Admittedly, it provides some insurance, in the odd case we get suppressed and need to be saved in the morning. Still, I can’t help but jump out of my shoes everytime it buzzes in my pocket. With a sigh, I retrieved the damn thing and looked at the message. 

Your Stalker: “Behind you.”

A gasp escaped my lips. My blood ran cold at the sight of the text message. Reflexively, I twisted my head around to see a familiar face, one I hoped I wouldn’t see again. Aaron Costa, leaning against a tree and looking directly at me. A black bandana covered the lower half of his face, and he wore a signature white and red jacket. The last time I saw him, he tried to drag me to the red door, force me to live in an eternal slumber, listening to the same old song forever. He tried to make me a walking puppet for the Voice that was deemed worse than the others.

“Please. Don’t freak out,” he hushed before I could say anything, his hands raised half way in an attempt to appear unthreatening. It was a decent attempt, but at his height, he mostly towered over me. He’d be a threat to the average person. Still, for as much of a threat that he was, my eyes couldn’t help but wander to the scar down the side of his face. It was the battle wound I gave him when I managed to get away from him on that fateful night. 

I took a step back. “What the hell do you want?” I hissed, teeth bared. I glanced left and right to look for possible escape routes. I might be able to outrun him. I knew for damn sure I could out maneuver him. The Club’s training made sure we could escape an enemy bigger than ourselves.

“I need your help, RK,” Aaron pleaded, pulling down his bandana and taking a step forward. In response, I took a couple steps back. If he gets within arm’s reach of me again, it’s game over. I’ll be at the red door before I know it, and I have no spare drone part to save me this time. He froze, noticing that I was putting space between us. “I’m…” he stammered. It was odd to see him flustered. He always had this air of calm around him, but I guess that’s just who I thought he was. It was just a ruse to get close to me, so he could convert me to his weird religion. 

“I’m sorry about what I did. What I said about your brother was insensitive,” he continued. “I was just…” he paused, searching for words. “I didn’t expect you to respond like that. I thought I could show you how that club lies about us, how destructive they are, how much better it would be with us. I failed, so I felt like... it was the only way to keep you as my friend. It was desperate and stupid.” There was a certain honesty behind those brown eyes, imploring me to listen. I was such a sucker for sob stories, but the voice of reason in my head was too strong. I knew we could never be friends like we once were.

“Well, what the hell did you expect to happen?” I growled, tightly crossing my arms in front of my chest. “You chose your Voice over me, a person! A human being!” Aaron didn’t respond, his gaze sinking to the ground. Did he want to argue about it, but was holding his tongue? I wasn't sure. In a different town, with no Voices, we would have been friends. I couldn’t help but wonder how my other relationships would be different if the looming threat of Voices didn’t hang over everyone. 

Here, in Redacre, I wasn’t afforded that opportunity. I always had to remember the grasp the Voices had on everyone, how much people tried to fill in missing puzzle pieces with them, to dull the emptiness and pain that was so common to the human condition. I had to remember what people were willing to do for the Voices. I could never forget. My honest friendship could never compete with a millennia of manipulation techniques. I’m not good enough. I would be thrown to the wolves easily, just like before.

After a moment of silence between us, my curiosity got the best of me. With a sigh, I asked, “What do you need help with? I’m not doing any stupid Chorus things.”

The tension in Aaron’s shoulders relaxed as he let out a breath. “No. It’s nothing like that,” he explained. “We are...being hunted. By the Beast."

"The Beast?" I asked.

"The Hunter," he clarified. "Some of us have gone missing, and I know you have been making notes." 

I arched a brow. "How do you know that?"

"Kids talk at school," he answered. "Please, RK. I don't want more people getting hurt. I just need more information so I can help protect them."

"You mean protect more Stalkers like you?" I gave him a skeptical look and planted my hands on my hips.

"No matter what you call them, they are still people," he responded with a frown.

I paused. Dammit, Aaron. He was right, in his own twisted sense. The thought of more people forced under the Hunter's sway hit a particularly sensitive nerve.

With a soft sigh, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a flipbook. With reluctance in my tone, I held it out to him and said, “Here. These are the more recent field notes.” 

Aaron reached out and took it, his eyes scanning the little pages as he flipped through them. “The Hunter is experimenting on people?” he asked.

“With these weird tablets, yeah,” I answered with a nod.

“And these curses…” He murmured, his face scrunching in confusion. He flipped the notebook around and pointed at a poorly drawn doodle of a person with sharp, gnashing teeth. “What does this mean?”

I couldn’t help but snerk at my own artistic talent. “That’s, uh, one of the curses.” That answer didn’t seem to work for Aaron. He still looked helplessly confused, and a little concerned. “It’s called the Hunter’s Hunger. It gives you, like… these cravings, where you just want to, like, bite someone. It’s like mental torture if you try to resist it.”

He frowned and flipped to a new page, taking a moment to study before looking back to me. “Can I keep some of these pages?”

“Yeah, whatever. The curses and stuff are the last four pages,” I said grudgingly. Aaron gave me a grateful smile as he ripped the pages out and handed the flipbook back to me. “Do you really not know anything about what’s going on with the Hunter? Are your people not told anything?”

Aaron’s lips pursed. “Anything we’re not told is to protect us and keep us safe. I trust them.” I let out a sigh at his response. Clearly, they weren’t being kept safe if Stalkers were disappearing, but he had such blind devotion that he’d be willing to sweep anything under the rug. Is that how they all are? Every kid who has an attachment to a Voice? Voices become so infallible that they can do nothing wrong?

“Hello? Someone there?”

Aaron and I both froze as a foreign baritone broke the silence of the night’s gentle ambience. The voice didn’t sound familiar, and judging by Aaron’s reaction, it wasn’t a Lucid or anyone he knew either. It definitely didn’t have that Lucid masked-sound to its tone.

“Come on. I knew I heard ya. Come out, come out,” the voice cooed. 

“Who is-” I began to whisper, but Aaron halted me with a soft shush, his finger pressed against his lips. He turned around and slowly stepped towards the nearby house, pressing his back against the wall. I followed him as he peeked around the corner in order to take a look at the strange fellow for myself, but Aaron stuck out his arm to block me before I could go further. He turned his head and gave me a look of concern. I shot him a nasty look. Aaron really needs to do something about his annoying “save everyone” superhero attitude. With an annoyed sigh, I grabbed his wrist and pushed it down and out of my way. He didn’t try to hold me back again, but from the corner of my eye, I could see his shoulders sulk.

A man that appeared to be in his early twenties walked down the street, looking under cars and behind corners for us. He wore torn up jeans and a loose black t-shirt. I looked a little closer and it looked like a rock band shirt with a colorful, abstract logo, but it wasn’t any band that I knew of. His shoulder-length dirty blond hair was pushed behind both of his ears.

“Greyson Burke,” Aaron whispered, his brows arched in surprise.

“You know him?” I looked up at him with a curious look.

“He was a senior at Central High when I was a freshman,” Aaron answered, his eyes still trained on Greyson. “After graduation, his band started playing at one of the local bars, but they stopped a few months ago. I thought their band split up, or something.”

Greyson was getting closer. I could see a wicked grin stretched across his face, his crazed green eyes still searching for the source of the voices he heard. A few more moments, and he would be upon us.

Aaron turned his body to me. “I’ll distract him. You go home, RK,” he told me. Sounds like a plan. Didn’t have to tell me twice. I was sure Aaron would be fine. He can handle himself. I gave him a nod as he stepped out of our hiding place out onto the street towards Greyson. I turned the other way and started sneaking back to the privacy fence, but I stopped. Curiosity got the better of me. I retracted my steps and peaked around the corner to watch the exchange.

“There you are. I knew I heard someone,” Greyson said with a sick grin. There was something off about his body language. The way he curled his fingers and dug his nails into the side of his pants. The way he would occasionally gnaw at his lower lip, and how he breathed through a partly open mouth. He wasn’t well. There was something wrong with him. He looked… hungry.

“What are you doing here, Greyson?” Aaron answered, his voice tense.

Greyson gave a nonchalant shrug, his tongue darting out of his mouth to wetten his lips. “I was just in the neighborhood. Thought I’d take a stroll, and look for a dance partner, y’know?” He took a step forward, approaching Aaron. “Is that… Is that you, Aaron? Aaron Costa?” He craned his neck forward, squinting his eyes to get a better look. “Damn, boy. You’ve gotten tall!” He threw his head back and laughed, hand holding his stomach. Recomposing himself, he wiped his eye with the back of his hand and took another step forward. “Have you been working out? You look strong. I bet you would make an excellent dance partner.” Aaron stood his ground, not responding as Greyson studied him. When his green eyes landed on the side of Aaron’s face, his grin grew wider. “Nice scar. Want a matching one on the other side?” 

“Why don’t you just go home?” Aaron said, eyes narrowing. You wouldn’t think he was nervous by the tone of his voice, but I could tell he was by how he gently fidgeted with the corner of his jacket between his fingers.

Greyson released a piercing laugh. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to dance?”

“Are you really looking for a fight you can’t win?” Aaron responded with an incredulous look. He had a point. Greyson was a bit gangly, compared to Aaron. Plus, Aaron had height on him. You could easily make the initial impression that Aaron would overpower Greyson in a fight.

“Oh, no. No, no, no. I don’t know about that,” Greyson said with a soft chuckle, running a hand through his hair before shoving both hands into his pockets. “You might be a big bastard. But... I don’t play fair.” In a swift motion, Greyson pulled his hands out of his pockets and lunged at Aaron, his hand gripping a pocket knife. My eyes widened as I caught sight of the weapon, a breath catching in my throat. Aaron had a similar reaction and reacted quickly by grabbing Greyson’s wrist. I heard a growl from Greyson’s throat. “Come on, Aaron. Just a little bite!”

I stood paralyzed as the two struggled with each other. Aaron would still be fine, right? Of course he would win. Anxious thoughts continued to run through my head as the battle waged. Greyson was stronger than he appeared, and Aaron was wearing down. Block after block, dodge after dodge. The pocketknife caught his heavy, white jacket a couple times, ripping into the material that was fortunately thick enough to protect his skin. Maybe Chorus does care after all. Aaron couldn’t manage to get a hold on him to subdue him, and every punch he landed didn’t seem to phase his attacker. There was something unseen fueling him, some hunger.

Greyson shoved Aaron back against a sedan, his body slamming against the metal with a reverberating bang. Aaron grimaced and momentarily lost his footing, but caught himself by grabbing the trunk of the car. “Gah...Shit...” Wow. Aaron actually swears. It would have been funny if this was not a life or death situation. I had seen enough. Panic was settling in, and if I did not do something, Aaron would just turn in to another missing Stalker. I stepped out of my hiding spot and made a bee-line towards them both.

“This was fun. Sorry it’s over already,” Greyson taunted. He reversed the grip on the pocketknife and moved in. I ran as fast as my legs could carry me, my feet pounding against the pavement. With a battle yell, I barreled into Greyson, catching him by surprise and knocking us both to the ground. The pocketknife clattered against the concrete out of his reach.

I winced as I fell and twisted my head around to where Greyson landed. On his hands and knees, he shook his head, hair draping over his face. He slowly turned towards me. “RK...RK....RK… There you are. Did you want to play too?” he growled as he stood, his face splitting into a wide smile. I hoped I bought Aaron enough time to recover.

I scrambled to my feet, but before Greyson could change his target, Aaron moved behind him and slipped his arms underneath his armpits, locking his hands behind his neck. Greyson struggled to free himself from the hold, his arms flailing in the air. Aaron twisted his body and threw Greyson against the car, his head smacking into the window and shattering the glass. Greyson fell limp to the pavement, shards falling around him.

I flinched at the sight, but I was distracted by Aaron’s urgent plea. “Leave him.” Together, we ran off away from the street and houses, the blaring car alarm becoming more and more distant the farther we ran. Soon, we were surrounded by trees, only the soft glow of Redacre’s lights visible over the dense foliage.

“I told you to go home,” Aaron said after twisting around to face me. He was in bad shape and struggled to catch his breath.

“Don’t be a fucking idiot, Aaron. You’d be dead if I did,” I retorted, looking at him defiantly.

Guilt flashed across his expression, but he managed a soft smile and held out his hand, extending it towards me. “Thank you for having my back. I hope we can be friends again,” he said to me.

I looked at his hand, lips pursed into a frown. A long moment passed between us before I turned my body. “Be careful on your way home, Aaron,” I gave him those parting words, pulling my hoodie over my head as I walked away.

Never again.

#the blackout club

[darlingsdontdie]

New Yandere, Whump, and Dark Shipping Blog: Requests FAQ

Hey! So before I start writing and creating, I thought I'd get some common questions answered and out of the way! If you are concerned about your request or are unsure of its content, please first check this post before directly messaging me.

Request Content

Q: What kinds of requests do you fill?

A: I will fill almost any type of request! But here are some specific options with set structures and examples.

Headcanon Requests (bulleted, length depending on ask, ex: "Can I get headcanons for Requested Character with a short girlfriend?")

Scenario Requests (bulleted, LDOA, ex: "Can I get a scenario for if Requested Ship were getting married?")

Drabble Requests (prose, LDOA, ex: "Can I request a drabble about RC being worried when their darling is sick?")

Playlist Requests (list of songs, 1-5 song limit, ex: "Do you have 4 songs for a jealous RC?")

Graphic Requests (edit style, 1-4 images, ex: "Could you make a graphic for yandere RC with this item or quote?")

Aesthetic Requests (moodboard style, image with 6-9 sections, ex: "Can I get an aesthetic for dark!RS?")

Prompt Requests (list of brainstormed dialogue and short sentences, LDOA, ex: "Do you have dialogue prompts for RC kidnapping their darling?")

Plot Bunny Requests (short prose paragraphs or bulleted, LDOA, ex: "I want to write about yandere RC surprising their darling but don't know how or why. Are there are any plot bunnies you can give me?").

New! RP Idea Requests (selection of 1-4 short rp-style bios/plots/starters, LDOA, ex: "Do you have any yandere rp ideas for Requested Fandom ocs?")

New! Fancast Requests (moodboard or edit style, 2-9 images per RC/RS, ex: "Who would you cast as yandere RC(s)?")

New! Faceclaim Recommendation Requests (bulleted list of names with short explanations or reasons, LDOA, ex: "My yandere OC is tall, has dark hair, and soft features. He acts friendly but is the violent type. Can I have a few fcs?")

Requests that don't specify will be answered with a bulleted list or possibly a short paragraph. There may be times I'm willing to fill some requests but not others due to time constraints, but that doesn't mean I won't ever fill them!

Fandom requests involving AUs and crossovers are welcome (ex: "Headcanons of how yandere Naruto in a wild west AU?" or "Headcanons about what would happen if yandere Ten and yandere Crowley fell for the same person?"), as are original requests based on existing media (ex: "Can I get headcanons about a popular girl type who has a Breakfast Club experience and ends up going yandere for the criminal?" or "Can you write a drabble about a yandere whose story is like this music video?").

Q: What characters do you write for?

A: I'll write for any character that I am familiar with, with a few exceptions for characters I'm aware of but uncomfortable with. To get started, here's a list of fandoms that I have a solid handle on!

Anime (Naruto, Ouran High School Host Club, Death Note, Hetalia, etc.)

Western Animation (Archer, Castlevania, She-Ra: Princesses of Power, etc.)

DC and Marvel Comics

Star Wars (no New Trilogy - Originals, Prequels, Clone Wars, & Legends only)

Other Major Film Franchises (Pirates of the Caribbean, the MCU, James Bond, etc.)

Harry Potter and related properties

Percy Jackson and related properties

Hunger Games and related properties

Twilight and related properties

A Song of Ice and Fire (willing to try TV canon but much more familiar with Book canon)

Crime Dramas (Barry, Good Girls, Hannibal, Mr. Robot, Revenge, etc.)

Historical Drama (Vikings, The Tudors, Les Miserables, The Borgias, Downton Abbey, Peaky Blinders, Taboo, etc.)

Science Fiction and Fantasy TV/Lit (Star Trek TOS/AOS; Doctor Who, New Who only; Merlin; Good Omens; Lucifer; Galavant, etc.)

Horror-Thriller TV/Lit (American Horror Story, The Haunting of Hill House, Hemlock Grove, Alias Grace, etc.)

Sitcoms (familiar with Friends, all the Michael Schur products, Community, That 70s Show, Jane the Virgin, Schitt's Creek, Superstore, IASIP, and others)

Teen Dramas (Teen Wolf, Pretty Little Liars, Freaks and Geeks, Glee, etc., but no Riverdale)

Chinese and Korean Dramas (A Korean Odyssey/Hwayugi, Meteor Gardens, A Love So Beautiful, What's Wrong With Secretary Kim, Romance Is a Bonus Book, My First First Love, Black, etc.)

Video Games (Assasain's Creed, Portal 2, Fire Emblem, AFK Arena, Professor Layton, etc.)

Something that's not here can still be requested - I'm familiar with a lot of media and do my best to keep up.

As I implied above, I am also happy to write for original characters. Whether that means you telling me about your own OCs, or me creating my own characters for you down the line, either is great.

I will NOT be writing RPF or RPS. I do not approve of real person shipping and real person fiction makes me uncomfortable - if that's what you're looking for, there are a huge number of other blogs that will cater to your needs directly. Which leads me into...

Prohibited Requests, and Non-Yandere Content

Q: Will you fill every request you get?

A: I'll fill requests that interest me and that I feel comfortable posting, and that will probably be most of them! I am really excited to get started. But I still reserve the right to refuse a prompt - I'm writing for free, so no one is entitled to have their ask filled. If I choose to deny your prompt, I will answer privately and, if the issue is with content, update the blog so it's made clear that the type of prompt is not taken.

Q: What is and isn't allowed to be requested?

A: To be honest, most stuff is allowed and some stuff isn't. There's a lot of ground to cover here, so I've divided it based on the nature of the concern.

Q: Do you accept NSFW/SFW requests?

A: I'll do NS and SFW work, but I've got more experience with SFW content. This doesn't mean I do it exclusively, just that I won't think to go NS unless you mention it. Specify for NS and it'll be included happily!

Q: Do you accept violent requests?

Violence against non-SO characters and dub-con is okay always, as is situational or over-the-top violence, even murder, involving SOs (ex: "the yandere and their darling are soldiers on opposite sides of the war" or "the yandere saws off their darling's legs so they have to carry them everywhere").

However, there is some tricky area with violent fantasies. If I think the content strays too close to serious physical domestic abuse, then I'll likely deny the request. This is partially why I prefer requests that get violent to focus on non-SO targets, so if it doesn't matter to you, that's almost guaranteed to get a response.

Non-con I can mention and discuss in headcanon posts and possibly prompt lists, but I will not be writing drabbles or scenarios for non-con prompts.

Q: Do you accept kink requests?

A: It will depend on the type and whether I feel morally and psychologically comfortable with it. For example, hypnosis, size kink, gender stuffing, BDSM, roleplay, etc., are all currently accepted because they don't seem to affect me in a negative way. I am willing to do ships for cousins and step family, as well. However, I will not under any circumstances deal with r*ceplay, p*dophilia, fetishizing of trans people or people of color, or inc*stplay, and I will not be doing ship work for anyone more closely related than cousins, including but not limited to siblings, parents (blood or adopted), or aunts and uncles. None of this is negotiable. I am willing to consider AUs where two characters aren't family, or non romantic yandere behavior between family, but even then, the request's on thin ice. Anything super unhygienic or illness related is probably something I won't be interested in not as a rule or for moral reasons but just because it can exacerbate my anxiety and OCD. I also do not fill prompts related to minors at all, be it explicit/adult/sexual content or otherwise. Requests for characters who are minors will have them aged up unless otherwise specified - in which case you will promptly be blocked.

Q: Can I request a dark imagine that is not yandere related?

A: Of course! Just make sure to be specific about what you want from it.

Q: Can I request a ship or character imagine that isn't yandere or dark?

A: Yes, though I won't promise it'll be what you're looking for. I fall towards horror, thriller, and angst when I write, regardless of my intentions.

Q: Can I request something that's not ship or character imagine related?

A: Sure, I'd be honored, but again, I don't promise to fulfill every request. This blog is intended to be stress relief, self indulgence.

How to Make a Request

Q: How do I contact you for requests?

A: Asks, messages, replies on my original posts, and even more casual things like tagging me in yandere or writing related posts are all great ways to interact with me!

Q: When do you accept requests?

A: Requests will be opened or closed depending on how busy I am and whether I'm caught up on them.

Currently, requests are closed. However, I've decided that requests are reopened on my days off. The days should be listed in my bio.

Q: Do you accept anonymous requests?

A: Yes, I do! I also will not publish asks from users unless the user specifically clarifies that they are okay with it, just in case the user sent the ask from their blog on accident. User asks that aren't specified as safe to publish will be responded to privately when the request is filled.

Q: How will I know my request is filled?

A: As stated above, anonymous asks and user asks clarified as safe to publish will be published with a response. User asks without any clarification will be responded to privately. Anonymous asks asking for privacy for any reason will not be published. Messages will also get a reply. Users who send requests that are kept private will not be tagged unless you ask me to. Users with published asks will always be tagged in the final post, but it is totally okay to ask me to change or erase the tag! Other than this, checking for posts is up to the requester.

Other Kinds of Interaction

Q: Is there anyone who you don't want interacting with your blog?

A: Anyone complicit in nazism, racism, transphobia, homophobia, misogyny, xenophobia, pedophilia/MAPs, or any other politicized violence against a people is uneqivocally not welcome to engage with my work. I also have a zero tolerance policy for true crime fans who support or absolve serial killers. Please respect this - anyone who doesn't will be blocked. Anyone who pushes the issue will be reported.

Q: What about kink or otherkin blogs?

A: Honestly, I don't know much about either community. As of now, I'm fine with interaction. I'd ask that I not receive any kin related requests, because I am not familiar with the concept, community, and issues accompanying. Kinks can be requested but as stated above, are not guaranteed to be filled. Please don't bring discourse or discourse related requests here. I am not equipped to or interested in getting involved. If that changes, I have a main and other side blogs. This blog will never be a place for it.

Q: Are you okay if we interact with you or send you asks and messages that aren't requests?

A: Absolutely! I would love to talk with you. I am always interested in discussing any of the topics covered on this blog, or anything else for that matter! I pride myself on trying to be not just nice, but kind, and hopefully that comes through in every interaction. However, I'll expect the same courtesy from anyone who'd reach out to me, or use my posts to communicate to others for that matter. Anyone who doesn't will be, you guessed it, blocked. Anyone who pursues it further, yeah, will be reported.

Q: You have a lot of rules about requests and interaction, but you don't seem to post much and you aren't very active. Is this all just awkward and formal overkill, or is there a point?

A: I've explained all of this clearly, in as an accessible way as I can think of, because I want to eliminate the potential for drama, confusion, and other misunderstandings.

Online communities tend to be chock-full of plenty and I do not, nor does anyone who visits, need another reason to be tired. I'm not detailing all of this upfront because I expect to be very popular, or because I like listening to myself talk for paragraphs on end. I don't want a theoretical lack of information to be used to hurt either myself or others, though some of it shouldn't have to be spelled out in the first place.

But considering how ridiculously easy it is to misinterpret each other online, and how much of a disadvantage neuroatypical people like myself are when things are left just implicit rather than made what you could argue as exhaustingly explicit, I figured a crazy FAQ was a small price to pay for a peaceful environment.

TLDR: it certainly might be overkill, but that doesn't mean there is no point to it.

Q: What should requesters and followers call you anyways?

A: I'm fine with my username. If you're going for a different vibe, Red or Darlings sounds nice too. If you can come up with something catchier, feel free to try!

💀💀💀

On that note, I also may be slow going when it comes to requests. All I can do is promise to put a lot of thought into my replies, even though speed is not guaranteed. Any other questions can be asked directly, and I would be more than happy to answer them!

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #naruto imagines #mcu imagines #male yandere #yandere suggestions #yandere aesthetic #darlingsdontdie's content #darlingsdontdie's FAQ

[ilovemygaydad]

part 3/? of punk!patton gets adopted by single parent logan

part one - part two - part four - part five - ao3 version - masterlist (includes asks)

pairings: one-sided pining moxiety, eventual logince, background pining remceit, mentions of past thomas/female oc

warnings: swearing, lots of emotions, anxiety, worry, sympathetic deceit (his name is DC), jealousy, sadness, one-sided pining, rivalry mentions, depression mentions, divorce mentions, being held back a grade, arguments, anger, crying, unhealthy coping mechanisms, embarrassment, like some angst (sorry buds but emotionally closed off patton is an angst fest), food mentions, possibly something else

***feel free to send me questions or comments! i’ll answer them to the best of my ability, and everything is tagged under “punk!patton au”

a/n: this one is.... so long

(a clarification: logan and patton aren’t really father and son--they’re more like legal guardian and child. neither of them were looking for a father/son relationship, so they agreed that it wasn’t for them. i just didn’t clarify)

a few weeks had passed since the whole clothes incident, and patton and virgil had actually become real friends

which was why patton was unnerved when virgil’s foot wouldn’t stop tapping in their first block class

patton scribbled out a quick “you okay?” on a piece loose leaf paper and nudged virgil’s leg to get his attention and passed over the note

a few moments later, the paper is passed back to patton, and virgil’s neat writing reads “yeah, just nervous”

“about what?”

“well... i was going to ask you if you wanted to join my family for our twice-monthly disney marathon on saturday. dad’s college friend comes with his son, dc. he’s a senior. everyone wears onesies, and we just chill and watch cartoons for the night. you don’t have to come if you don’t want, but i thought you might enjoy it.”

and patton’s like

oh

okay

this is... a thing

so he writes back, “sure. i think dc is in my photography class?”

and virgil passes the note back one last time, but the timing went poorly, and the teacher sees

she’s like “mr sanders. mr summers. are you passing notes?”

and patton rolls his eyes as he takes the paper and clips it into his binder “no, ms w. virgil thought that he’d missed some of the notes yesterday by accident, so i gave him my sheet so he could double check.”

and the teacher is like ,,,,,,, fine and goes back to teaching, but virgil looks over at patton and gives him this small, thankful smile

and if patton has some weird, fluttery feelings about it, then that’s fine

even though he doesn’t

(the note says “7pm--last house on zora lane downtown. you’ll know the one ;)” and patton finds it really cute)

so saturday rolls around, and patton picks out some pajamas to go in because he doesn’t have a onesie

logan had offered to buy him a onesie, but patton looked up one that he thought he might like, and it was nearly forty dollars. he refused to let logan spend so much money on something so stupid

he settles on a black muscle tank and black jogger sweats because there’s no way he’s going to break his aesthetic for a disney marathon

he does wear his glasses, though, because he doesn’t want to deal with the hassle of taking out his contacts before going to sleep and then putting them back in before anyone wakes back up, and he’s too blind to just go without

and he hates how the huge, square frames look on his face, and the lenses are so damn thick

but he wears them anyway because he has to

logan drives him to virgil’s house and it definitely wasn’t because logan was hoping to catch a glimpse of virgil’s dad what???

virgil was right--his house was so easy to find. it had a ranbow flag flying by the door, and about twenty little rainbow pinwheels stuck around the garden

it was either the sanders’ house, or it belonged to the world’s most excited five year old

the thing is, virgil didn’t mention that it was huge with gigantic fucking windows and a chandelier that was visible from the fucking street

patton gives a quick goodbye to logan and goes up to the door. he rings the doorbell, and almost immediately, the door swings open. there’s a tall man in a stitch onesie and round glasses smiling at him, and all patton can choke out is a small “hello”

and this man squeals

like

squeals

and then he says, “you must be patton! virgil has told us so much about you--come in!”

it isn’t like patton is just going to say no, so he walks inside and follows this stranger through the house, looking around as they go

the place is just as big as it looks from the outside. there’s a formal dining room to the right and a large office to the left

patton wouldn’t really call the dining room “formal,” however, since all the chairs and the table are random colors and sizes and styles

but that doesn’t even mention the vast foyer with floating stairs to the second level on the left side of the hall and bridging to the upstairs on the right

patton couldn’t believe he was somewhere so fucking nice

they keep going and patton gets a few glimpses of the shiny kitchen and lush living room as they head through a door to the basement

disney music filtered up the stairwell as they descended into the finished basement

it smells like cookies and popcorn

they round the corner and there’s a little entertainment area with a rainbow of giant, fluffy bean bag chairs and a very large flatscreen tv that was currently on the main screen of winnie the pooh

there was also a bookshelf full of disney DVDs (and even a few VHS tapes of the classics)

virgil, roman, and dc were sitting on a couple of the bean bags, but virgil immediately hopped up and threw himself at patton when he noticed that he was downstairs

“you actually came! and you have glasses!!!”

patton huffs out a laugh as he wraps his arms around virgil and hugs him back “yes, i did show up, v. i wasn’t going to stand you up. and, yeah, i do have glasses. i didn’t want the hassle of bringing my contacts and solution and shit, so i just wore my glasses even though they look stupid”

“that’s bullshit!” virgil almost shouts, but he quickly corrects his volume “the glasses look really nice, pat. i swear.”

and there’s that stupid fluttery feeling again

patton rolls his eyes as virgil releases him from a hug, and he’s actually able to get a good look at his friend

virgil’s wearing an eeyore onesie, which matches the disney onesie theme of roman’s mushu onesie and dc��s beymax onesie

patton almost feels left out in his regular pajamas, but he cuts that shit out right the fuck away

virgil gestures to the man who brought pat downstairs “that’s emile. he’s dad’s college friend, and you said you know who dc is already” he still points to the boy who was draped over his bean bag upside down and staring at them with his heterochromatic eyes—the gold one standing out against the darker birthmark around his eye. dc flashed a peace sign, and patton waved back

virgil turns his gaze to the cookies and popcorn set out in the middle of the floor by the tv “those are free to eat—just don’t get between dad and the snickerdoodle ones. he’s vicious. and, i’m only telling you this because i know for a fact that i’m speaking too fast for him to understand”

so they all sit down and watch the movie

patton decides to not notice when virgil moves from a pink beanbag to a purple one right next to patton’s blue one

the movie starts, and it’s all goofy and fun in the basement. the sanders and picanis are quoting the characters and singing along to the little songs

even roman, who signs along with a soft smile on his face

patton is kind of in awe at how relaxed everyone is

he’s also in awe at how freaking cold it is in the basement

he can feel himself curling up and shivering, and he totally regrets wearing a tank top

patton doesn’t know how, but virgil sees him shivering and hops up from his chair, whispering a hasty “i’ll be right back” before sprinting upstairs

when virgil returns, he’s holding a bundle of gray fabric that he tosses to patton

when the bundle is unfolded, patton sees that it’s a hoodie with cat ears and paws and a big pouch in the front

“sorry that it’s so cutesy,” virgil whispers. “it was the most black thing that i own...”

and patton just laughs a little because,,,, virgil’s thought process is really adorable and weird sometimes

like any hoodie or blanket would have done, but virgil absolutely had to get patton the darkest colored one

pat puts it on and instantly feels much warmer

after winnie the pooh, they change to black cauldron

roman whines for a little bit because “there aren’t even any songs!” but eventually concedes because it’s virgil’s favorite and he isn’t going to not let his son watch the movie on disney night

after that’s done, the adults decide they’re going to go to sleep

emile says it’s because they’re old, roman says it’s because he has yet to meet his prince charming in his dreams, and he is looking forward to it

as soon as the adults are gone, the teenagers move closer to the food in the middle

“so,” virgil starts. “it’s time for our gossip session. patton, you’re completely free to sit out if you feel uncomfortable”

“what, uh, does this ‘gossip session’ include...?” pat asks because honestly ???? he’s a bit afraid of what he might hear

dc decides to answer, saying, “usually it’s about what teachers are being shitty again, how classes are going, do we have any annoying group partners. that sort of fun stuff”

and patton just nods because that’s not bad at all

and then virgil does that cute thing like in the movies where he crosses his legs and rests his elbows on his knees and he puts his chin on his hands and he leans forward

you know

that thing

and he says, “sooooo dc. what’s up with that cute boy from school that you like? oh, what was his name? ryan? ray???”

dc rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, and his voice comes out clipped and low

“i don’t have a crush on remy sanders, who you already know because he is your cousin. first of all, stop doing that every time you bring him up. second, stop fucking bringing him up”

virgil just kinda goes “aw, bud, you totally have a crush on him!”

and dc flips out

“you fucking know how much i hate your teasing about crushes, and then you go and tease me in front of someone i barely know? at least i don’t do that! actually, you know what? maybe i will tell patton who you have a crush on because, fuck it! we’re letting all of our secrets out, anyway! virgil has a crush on—“

virgil cuts him off with a loud “STOP” and patton swears that time froze in that room as everyone stares at each other

“i’m sorry,” he continues. “it was so uncool of me to tease you in front of patton without your consent. i just—i think you and remy would be good together, even if it’s just as friends”

dc stands up and starts to march to the stairs “remy and i were nothing more rivals in school, and now that he’s out of the competition, we don’t have anything to connect us. just fucking drop it. i’m going to bed”

patton doesn’t really know what the hell is going on with this remy guy, but he knows some major shit just went down

he decides to focus on virgil instead of the twinge in his chest at the mention of virgil having a crush on someone

really softly, patton asks who remy is

“he’s my cousin,” says virgil “he’s technically the year above, but he got held back last year because of some personal stuff that messed with his school work.

“ever since we were kids, remy and dc were rivals in school. they were both smart and athletic and talented, and they wanted to be the best. they had a lot of chemistry despite the constant bickering, and i tried to get them to become friends instead of rivals. it never worked because remy spends weekends with his moms, so he couldn’t do disney nights, and on the days he was with his dad and could hang out, dc was busy with gymnastics.

“then, after rem got held back, they pretty much ceased all contact. i knew that both of them were hurting because they lost the thing that fueled them to be the best that they could be, but it was pretty obvious that they were missing each other, too.

“i just want them to be happy!” virgil ends, hunching in on himself

patton hesitantly opens up his arms

“do you... do you want a hug”

virgil doesn’t even answer; he just launches himself forward and pretty much tackles patton to the floor in a hug

he’s sobbing now, and patton doesn’t really know what to do, so he pats virgil’s back every so often and whispers nice things to him

eventually, virgil’s breathing evens out and he’s just sniffling into the soaked cat hoodie

patton slowly releases him and rubs virgil’s arms gently in a reassuring gesture

“i’ve never actually done this whole sleepover thing before,” pat says with a sheepish grin, trying to play up the act (even if it is partially real). “would you mind if i slept in your room?”

virgil looks surprised for a second, but then his face smooths out into a tiny smile

“yeah, sure. it’s getting kinda late.”

they pack up the leftover food and stick it in a cupboard by the stairs before going upstairs

virgil grabs patton’s hand as the make their way to his room because tbh he needs the comfort

patton doesn’t mind

virgil opens the door to his room, and it looks just how patton expected

the bed is straight ahead from the door and placed at the bottom of a large window with pink curtains. the blanket and pillows are floral patterned in pastel colors. there are tall, white bookshelves on both sides of the bed that are filled with books of all sizes and colors; however, they look to be organized by age and genre, starting with children’s books and ending with adult fiction and nonfiction. there’s a door that leads to what patton assumes is an en suite bathroom and double sliding doors to the closet. the walls are painted a very light purple, and the remaining furniture are all a slightly darker purple. there’s a wooden desk strewn with tons of office supplies and a vanity with a large mirror and makeup neatly organized in small plastic drawers

everything just screams virgil

while patton is busy ogling at the room, virgil had gone and grabbed a sleeping bag and extra pillow, setting them up on the floor

“i’m gonna go brush my teeth, so make yourself comfy in the bed!” virgil said as he walked into the bathroom

“woah, wait—i’m not sleeping in the bed! this is your house. you get your bed!” patton argues as he takes off the wet sweatshirt and looks for a place to put his glasses for the night

“nuh uh!” virgil sticks his head out the doorway, toothbrush in hand and toothpaste all over his mouth. “you sleep in the bed”

“you aren’t sleeping in that sleeping bag. i refuse to let you do that.”

“fine!” virgil went back into the bathroom, and patton assumed that the argument was over, but virgil came back out with the same fiery look in his eyes. “if i can’t sleep in the sleeping bag, neither can you. get your ass in that bed before i tackle you”

patton had never been so afraid of a 5’7”, 130 pound boy before

he quickly slid under the covers with virgil following after he flicked off the lights

within just a few minutes, both boys were fast asleep

there is so much warmth when patton starts to stir in the morning

he’s just so warm, and he loves it

he curls into the warmth, and for a second he thinks about falling back asleep

and then there was a soft giggle

patton jolted back, opening his eyes to see that he was face to face with virgil

he had been cuddling virgil

and virgil was laughing at him

“awwww, pat! you’re so cute when you’re asleep! you kept trying to cuddle me.”

“shut the fuck up,” patton grumbled, putting his glasses back on and slipping out of the bed

“but it was so cute!!!”

“and if you tell anyone,” patton growls (although, there isn’t much bite behind it) “i will end you. I have a reputation to uphold, and i won’t let you ruin it”

virgil just laughs and follows patton downstairs, teasing him the whole way to the kitchen

roman’s already there, sitting on the counter and stirring a bowl of something

“morning, dad!”

“morning, starshine. why does patton look so grumpy?”

patton slumps into a chair at the table all emo and grumpy, and virgil softly sighs

“i was teasing him, and he got a bit grumpy at me. i’m sure he’ll lighten up as soon as we have pancakes to eat.”

surprised, patton glances over at virgil. he was expecting virgil to completely expose him like the older kids at the orphanage had done, but virgil hadn’t. the smaller boy smiles gently and winks, sitting down next to pat

there’s this strong urge in patton to lean close to virgil, but he squashes that feeling down right the fuck away

“hey, has dc been down yet...?” virgil asks, and patton can see that he’s genuinely still worried and upset about what happened last night

“i am now,” dc announces as he walks into the kitchen

patton is Extremely uncomfortable right now

dc and virgil are just staring at each other when virgil speaks up again

“look, dc, i’m really sorry. it was super selfish of me to try and force your life a certain way based on what i wanted. i’ve always just wanted you two to be happy, but i let my own emotions get in the way”

there was a long pause, and for a second, patton thought that dc was going to throw hands or something

“i forgive you, virge,” dc sighs, and he sits down next to virgil. “i’m sorry, too. i was about to deal a low blow, and that was equally shitty.” he groaned and hid his face in his hands. “and you were right”

“right about... what, exactly?” virgil asked

“i have a crush on remy”

“oh. oh! oh my gosh, dc! that’s sweet! aw, i’m proud of you.”

patton has NO clue what’s going on, but he thinks it’s a nice family moment, so he decides not to intrude

dc and virgil chat for a few minutes, and patton stares at the table silently

it feels a bit like breakfasts at the orphanage where everyone else would laugh and talk and be normal kids

and he would just

sit

alone

all the while, roman had been cooking, and he shouts out, “alright, every-gay--i mean, except patton?”

“nah, i’m... i’m gay, too.” 

“sweet!” roman says with a sigh of relief. “every-gay, it is time for... cinnamon roll pancakes!”  

a huge--like, at least thirty--pile of pancakes was set in the center of the circle, and everyone immediately began to set pancakes on their own plates and slather the frosting on top

dc and virgil began to banter with each other and, against his better judgement, patton joined in

and it felt...

really nice

patton was getting to know virgil’s friends and family better, and it was so interesting to finally be part of some sort of family dynamic for the first time

then he looked over at virgil, who was stuffing pancakes into his face and

the feelings kind of hit him straight in the face

he’s in love with virgil

virgil, his best friend

virgil, who tried to defend him even after he’d been a total asshole

virgil, who... had a crush on someone else

patton almost drops his fork as a sick, sad feeling twists inside of his stomach

he can’t be in love with virgil because virgil doesn’t love him

for the rest of the morning, patton’s all fake smiles, and he keeps quiet

he says a quick goodbye to virgil when logan shows up to drive him home, and he sits silently in the car as logan chats with roman for a few minutes

he doesn’t turn around to wave at virgil

when he gets home, he immediately goes to his room and cries into his pillow

life was a lot easier when he stifled his emotions...

to be continued... in part four

asks are loved and encouraged 💖💖💖

tag list: @residentanchor @eeveeawesome @xionical @absolutesandersidestrash @stormcrawler75 @musikasworld @ironwoman359 @a-weirdo-with-a-computer @thegaypotatoroyalty707 @darkrainbow333 @ravenclawunicorn1 @noahlovescoffee @whymustibedraggedintofandomhell @romansleftshoulderpad @still-waiting-for-cookies @emounicorn2006 @lana–22 @angels-ofthe-sea @demonickittykat @lonelysoul43 @the-virgil-mary @five-second-cookies @noisywolfbatbakery @band-be-boss-blog @heck-im-lost@lamp-calm-sanders @patton-e @knightofbloodcancer @cloudchaser7 @really-sleep-deprived-nerd @era-eclipsed @khadij-al-kubra @anxiousmorality @are-you-really-sure-about-that @today-only-happens-once @notalwaysthevillian @backatthebein @sunshineandteddybears @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2 @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @dodos-in-damnation @some-lost-meme-boi @dead4sevenyears @spookyingarbageisland @the-poison-apple-of-art@radioactivehelena @the-melody-of-eliza @im-a-mess-aaaaaa @whycantihavemorethan32characters @broadwaytheanimatedseries @veryvirginvirgil @llamaavocado @unisaurioamorfo @caterpiller-tea @cornycornfriendo @simon-at-3am 

#m writes things #moxiety #logince #punk!patton au #ts deceit #sympathetic deceit #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders

[simmeredsalmon]

〈whisper of yoriichi’s heart〉

+ a demon sends you back in time and you miraculously meet the elusive yet warm yoriichi... and you fall in love with each other. (violence / angst)

Taisho-era. The feverish gasps elicited from the heat scorching your lungs fill the air brimming with tension, your numb fingers refuse to let go of your sword—even as it quivers. How long has this fight been going on? How long have you endured sprinting around, praying for daybreak?

This demon, Shifumi, has scarcely used his Blood Arts on you; only effecting the surrounding terrain by decaying the vegetation, or rapidly flourishing it. A long spear was his choice of weapon... which he also hasn’t utilized at all. It was perplexing, to have someone trap you within their circle yet not attack you. Shifumi is clearly attempting to wear you down until you cracked. But wouldn’t the sun be rising soon...?

Just as those spate of thoughts gyrated in your mind, Shifumi casts a technique and the crinkled roots under your sandals spring to life and ensnare around your ankles. Your sword immediately shreds them away, but another wave comes at you and effectively keeps you locked in your spot.

“You’re such an idiot girl... You embody your breath-style. You’re slow at escaping me and making deductions... just like the clouds,” Shifumi taunts, the spear glimmering as a crack of sunlight bears itself before you—but he swiftly submerges you in the darkness of trees. “That look in your eyes? Did you finally realize my powers?”

The weapon tucked between his hands, hands teetered with wrinkles yet youth, was a spear in the shape of a clock’s hand. This whole time, he wasn’t controlling plants. He was controlling time, increasing or decreasing their lifespans as he pleases. What a dangerous demon... How many had he killed with those powers?

The tip of Shifumi’s spear tilts your head up by your chin, and a malicious grin appears on his face; his rotted teeth sharp contrast to his plump lips. “Because I’m fond of your special breath-style, I’ll allow you more time to live; or so you’ll think. Just as the clouds have always existed, drifting in and out of time... I’ll send you back to a time where they block the sun. And when you return to your rightful place in time, you’ll feel the pain of a thousand deaths.”

“There has never been a time, or will there be, a time when the sun is not comforting humans!” As trepidation shakes your body, your axons jerk and you push yourself forward in order to impale his spear into your throat and end your life before giving him the pleasure of having his way.

Feeling the immense pain in your neck, your eyes innately shut. However, as you expected to see your deceased family when your eyes opened... you were met with only a familiar sky.

Your body feels functional and healthy, although dried blood coats your throat’s skin—and it feels hard to breathe when you acknowledge that.

When you push yourself up, you scrutinize your surroundings and are unnerved to recognize nothing. The buildings around you are modelled differently from what you know and understand, and even the people ambling by are dressed in old clothing styles.

The people around you haven’t acknowledged your presence in the middle of the road, but you drive any pernicious ideas out of your mind and stand up; addressing the nearest person for advice. You couldn’t afford to squander time by dazing about, you needed to grasp what was happening as quickly as possible.

However, as you tapped a benevolent-looking lady’s shoulder, she didn’t flinch. “Excuse me...?” you said, but she wasn’t even looking in your direction at all. “Please answer me!”

But she didn’t. When her head craned in your direction, her eyes couldn’t see you at all. Their depths only reflected the cat frolicking behind your entity.

Panic settles itself in the thicket of your nerves, and you desperately search around this town for anyone who could acknowledge your existence. In this endeavour, you discover it’s nearing the end of the...

Sengoku-era. Your despair is acute, bringing you to tears as you stumble your way out of the town. It seems as though you can interact with the world, but they cannot react to you. You’re transparent, in a world bordering reality and dream.

Upon making it towards the stream outside of the town, you peer into the water and are relieved to see your own face staring back at you. You senselessly wash away the blotches of blood on your neck, before heaving a quavering sigh. What should you do? You’re supposedly in the Sengoku-era, where no one can even see or hear you. Feel you. Wouldn’t the only option be... to die?

The sword forged upon your feelings of resolution to destroy demons shimmers on your hip, and you draw it ruefully. “There’s no time for hesitation,” you whisper to yourself, preparing to slit your throat, “I’m going to die once I return home anyway.”

Yet, before you could complete the act, the clamor of metal colliding resounds and you find your sword being ripped from your hands.

Standing before you is a man, the hanafuda earrings he wore swaying with his swift movements. But the calm gentleness in his eyes makes you aware of your heart, how it's still beating. “Don’t hurt yourself. You still want to find a way out, so think before you choose to end your life here.”

The way he says this gifts you solace, even if in that fleeting moment. And that sensation of relief was enough for your mind to process the burden of your body, and you collapsed; although the man caught you on his shoulder before you hit the stream.

... And when you awoke, the scent of fire and fish wafted around you. The sky was dark, and not a cloud tainted the onyx-colored horizon. You peer over at the pale light of the fire, before shifting your gaze towards the man from earlier. “Um...” you breathe out, unsure of what was happening. “You can see me?”

It was all you could think of to say, only you immediately thought about how you should’ve expressed your gratitude firstly afterwards.

Nodding his head, the man clarifies, “I can also touch you.”

When you bring yourself up, the man’s red haori flutters into your lap—and you gasp out, “Th-Thank you very much! Here you should have it back—“

“No, it’s okay. You’re not... wearing proper attire, so you need it more than I do right now,” he tells you, noting your uniform’s short skirt. “I know you’re not supposed to be here. You’re trapped by a demon, aren’t you?”

You then proceed to explain your situation to him, elucidating that you’re from the future and how you came to be before him. Even though you would’ve never opened up this easily, he gave you abundant comfort and you find him trustworthy in spite of not knowing his name. “I’m [full name]... May I ask for your name?”

“It’s Tsugikuni Yoriichi.” And you wondered why Yoriichi was the only human able to perceive you. Maybe it was the purity in his eyes that enabled him to see things others cannot see.

Once he soaked in your plight, Yoriichi agreed to let you accompany him places as you search for a way to return home. To your rightful place in the world.

You felt invincible and powerless all at the same time. Whenever he slayed a demon, you weren’t harmed. Because you weren’t ‘really there’.

The two of you travel evasively across the warring lands, sharing memories and thoughts along the way.

As you learn of Yoriichi’s childhood, you can’t help but say, “If you’ve been cursed at all, it’s only because evil believes you’ll defeat it someday. Why curse a newborn child, who has yet to develop anything?” You also add in, “Also, I think your birthmark is pretty! I-I know I shouldn’t say that, since you’ve been through so much... but I can’t help how I feel.”

Yoriichi is speechless for a moment, mostly for your second remark more than the first. He knows he’s no one special, so the impact was scarce on him. But calling a part of him beautiful so unabashedly shook his heart for a second. “Thank you for saying that, [last name]-chan. If it’s the reason I’m able to help you, then I’m happy for it.”

When he breathes that out, your cheeks suddenly heat up. It’s a tremendous sentiment to be given, and you’re suddenly grateful to still be alive.

Of course you were thankful for Yoriichi before, but now... you feel exuberant strength accumulating within you. It even helps ease your struggles with accepting the fact that you can only give him emotional safety and nothing more.

Yoriichi always tells you that he’s older and doesn’t mind taking care of you—though he would still do his best for you even if he was younger.

In such a short span of time, you had grown extremely close to Yoriichi—and him to you. The nights spent with your head on his lap, his on yours, or mutually draping your haoris (he generously bought you one in your favorite color) over top of you both... they were precious. You cherish them.

Sometimes, when you’re fast asleep, Yoriichi presses his lips against your forehead and sighs against your skin; deeply enraptured with your entity, but too afraid to display such affection when you’re awake.

“Having someone by my side... I never imagined it. Now, I don’t yearn for anything else,” Yoriichi muses to himself, the leaves rustling as the world is still, “I know you’ll depart back to your rightful time someday. And I know... I’ll never be able to love anyone but you.”

The grief is threaded in Yoriichi’s soft voice, yet a tranquil smile is still present on his thin lips. “Maybe I wished for this all along. Wished for you.”

You were a bit slow at times, but Yoriichi never minded having to carry you in his arms; or having you sit on his shoulders when the two of you needed to make great distances. You were also clumsy; couldn’t grill the fish right because you put them too close to the fire at times. But...

You were kind, faithful, and optimistic—you were becoming your old-self, the you who wasn’t overwhelmed with desolation for the future. He wasn’t aware that he was the one who helped you return to your normal self, given you such inspiration and hope.

But Yoriichi is a man of no worth, one who knows he is unable to protect you from your dismal fate.

As he brushes his hand against yours, you unconsciously slip your hand into his... allowing his larger, solicitous hands to encase yours in their heat.

The only one who can grasp your hand... it sounds lonely, like his existence, but it’s much more profound than that. Always behind the clouds is the sun, bright and warm—giving you a push from behind, giving you a perpetual sense of safety. And standing before the sun is the attainable clouds, who give respite and shelter.

“When we die, we’ll be together. We’ll be at the same place. Please, [first name]... don’t lose heart. I’ll never forget you. No matter how much time passes, you’re engraved in me.”

The last thing he whispers is mournful... “Forgive me for being who I am.”

#tsugikuni yoriichi #kny x reader #kny scenarios #kny headcanons #my headcanons #my scenarios #[note: the demon's name 'shifumi' is composed of the characters death+sentence!] #this should've been a one-shot but i don't have the dedication for anything over 6k words right now haha #i hope you all enjoy! i adore yoriichi & this is super self-indulgent

[lxveille]

28. be mine + soonyoung + perhaps teenage friends who grew apart, cross paths again

title: say you’ll be minewc: ~ 1700a/n: i’ll  admit, i toyed around with a couple different ideas for this prompt before settling on this… and in the end, i indulged myself by making this Vaguely Apocalyptic Scifi-ish

The crowd at the departure field is loud. An incoherent mess of people shouting farewells and well wishes and, in some pockets, condemnations of those abandoning Earth, or protests that this whole approach is unfair. From where you stand in the throng, it’s impossible to make out any details of the passengers boarding exodus vessel Phi-7. It defeats the purpose of coming in the first place if you can’t even see if your friend scheduled for departure has even made it on board safely.

You turn your back to the spacecraft and begin making your own through the sea of onlookers towards the gates. The spot you leave is immediately filled by someone else desperate to push in a little closer for the chance of a better view. With your head ducked down, you murmur excuse mes and sorrys into the cacophony to every other person you try to push your way through.

When you’ve finally made it out of the tightly-packed crowd, you let out a sigh and turn to look back at the mess of people. You understand those that are upset, of course. What’s unclear to you is exactly what good they think will come of shouting objections here at this point.

Your boots crunch over the mix of pebbles and dead grass as you make your way back towards the path leading to the exit. One of the guards stationed along the departure field’s fence gives you a skeptical look, as if no one has ever left before the vessel’s lift off before.

You drop your gaze to the cracked stonework beneath your feet to avoid anyone else’s gazes. And remind yourself that you aren’t doing anything wrong.

There’s no relief of weight upon your shoulder once you pass through the gateway. All you are now is a doomed soul who isn’t bothering to look on as luckier ones get their chance at something more than a quickly dying planet.

A sound something like your name nearly makes you pause. Except there’s no reason - and no one - who would have a reason to be calling for you here. You push your hands into your coat pockets and try to bury your nose into your scarf as you carry on down the pavement away from the departure site.   

Behind you, there’s a sudden pick up of footfalls, and a second shout. This one unmistakably your name. With eyebrows furrowed and senseless nervousness prickling at the back of your neck, you stop where you are and turn around.

The sight of a uniformed guard jogging towards you down the sidewalk makes you nearly panic, makes you glance around yourself as you contemplate if you should be fleeing. What story starts with an armed guard chasing you down the street can possibly end well?

But he slows down in his approach when you glance back, holds up a hand in wave that looks entirely too friendly for someone in his uniform. It makes you take a second look over the guard, and realization comes upon you in a wave that only makes you more puzzled.

“Soonyoung?” you sputter out the name. He grins, and you wonder if somehow you might be dreaming this all. And if so, why the hell would you be dreaming of a schoolmate you haven’t seen in years?

“It’s been a while, huh? You’re probably the last person I thought I’d see here.” Soonyoung still has this cheeriness about him that makes it feel like he belongs to a different place or time than the reality you live in. At sixteen it had been the most charming thing you’d ever seen in a person. Today, all it makes you think is endless questions of how exactly he passed any training for the Guard.

“I could say the same, I guess,” you answer, “Especially…” You take one hand out of your pocket and gesture vaguely at him. “…Like that.”

He laughs. His laughter is still the same as it ever was, and it makes your yearn suddenly and all too deeply for a time when things had felt simpler, or at least like there was still some hope left for this place. “I know. It’s weird where life takes us, I guess.”

“It looks like you should be working right now rather than… chasing down an old classmate.”

He blinks, unsure how to take your words, but then in an instant his smile is back. “I know. You’re right! I should. But how often do people actually see someone they knew before the Exiting started by chance like this?”

You shake your head and shrug. “I don’t know. I guess the odds are a little higher at a departure field, though.”

“I guess you have a point there. But you’re not even sticking around to watch it go?”

“It’ll go like the rest of them have, won’t it?” Something in your words makes Soonyoung chuckle again.

“They usually do,” he agrees. “Still, I don’t know. People seem to like seeing it. Either for someone they know on board or… to get a sense of what it’ll be like when they leave.”

Or to let off some of their anger over the fact there won’t be enough vessels for everyone to leave, you add on inside your own head. His uniform keeps you from saying it aloud. “I should let you get back to your job,” you say instead.

“Hey – would it be totally out of line if I asked you to meet up with me after my shift ends?” he asks quickly. Like it’s been the question on his mind from the moment he first called out your name.

After all these years, you still trust Soonyoung’s smile. So you agree to be at the cafe a few blocks away at 6.

It surprises you when he shows up already changed into plainclothes. Perhaps more than seeing him in the guard’s uniform had surprised you in the first place. All the same, it sets you more at ease to see him this way. His style has changed from high school, but he looks more like himself in a sweater and jeans.

He sits across from you and orders juice rather than any kind of coffee.

“Sorry if I startled you earlier,” he opens with, “I just couldn’t believe it was actually you.”

“It’s fine,�� you tell him, and pull your mug a little closer to yourself on the tabletop.

From there, the two of you slip into conversation that attempts to make up for years of estrangement. You find out he enlisted into the Guard after his university was forced to close due to low enrollment. That he considers one of the few perks of working in the Guard is that he has more friends still left of Earth than the average person does. With that, you stumble into telling him how the last of your close friends had been on Phi-7 today.

His face falls in sympathy. “Is that why you didn’t want to actually watch it leave?”

“Something like that, I guess.”

“Well,” Soonyoung starts only to cut himself off, brows furrowing and lips quirked downwards as he tries to come up with the best way to ask what he wants to next. “Do you have plans to try to get on any of the remaining vessels?”

You laugh dryly. You’d heard something along those lines as an odd-humored pickup line a few weeks ago. You don’t think Soonyoung means it in that way, though. “I’m not in a couple. So, they’re not gonna sell me passage no matter how much money I have saved up. And at this point I doubt any are even available if I was in one.”

“Oh,” he looks down at the table between the two of you and seems lost in his own thoughts for a minute. “They have priority tickets for the Guard, but they made those only available to people engaged or married about a month ago, too.”

“And how many engagements have suddenly popped up since then?” you asked with mild, sardonic amusement.

“Not that many.” His tone tells you he knows this will come as a surprise. He clarifies, “They ask for some backlog of proof that you know each other as a basis for the relationship and all that.”

“So, priority tickets out of here just going to waste because too many guardsmen are hopelessly single, huh?”

Soonyoung winces at his inclusion in that grouping before giving in to a small chuckle. “Some of them are hoping they’ll backtrack on that rule if they decide they need more Guards out on the new settlement.”

“Not you, though?” you ask, fingers tensing around your coffee cup somewhat.

Color rises in his cheeks, and his smile takes on a certain sheepishness as he glances away from you. “I guess I should be honest, huh?”

You look him over quizzically. “I wasn’t aware you hadn’t been up to now.”

“No – I didn’t lie or anything” he hurries to clarify. “It’s just… When I saw you leaving the field earlier… It was like I suddenly remembered all the pictures and stuff of us that I still have sitting around from school. And how people used to think we were dating back then, sometimes.” He trails off, seeming rather like he’s having second thoughts about whatever he’s leading up to.

On your side of the table, his sudden mention of mementos of your past has you thinking of the folded up confession note you never gave him back in your school days. The memory of all the times you backed out of handing it over or leaving it somewhere Soonyoung would find it makes you go quieter, slouching down in your seat some.

Soonyoung leans in some, speaking lower. “I guess what I mean is, it occurred to me that those kinda things would probably count as backlog proof. If you wanted to leave…”

Your gaze flits back to meet his. “Except we’re not a couple.”

He grins briefly before his expression is taken over instead with a tinge of nervousness. “I know. But… People could believe it, couldn’t they? It’s not like there’s close friends or family for them to go double checking with left on Earth, right?”

It feels reckless and risky to even consider it. But Soonyoung has a point. Moreover, Earth’s time is running out, along with the number of vessels left scheduled to take anyone to the new settlements.

“I think we’re gonna have to take some more recent pictures if it’s gonna be believable,” you conclude.

Soonyoung smiles. “I’ve got the whole night off.”  

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #hoshi fanfic #kwon soonyoung x reader #valentine hearts flash fics #i also acknowledge this whole idea would Work Better in longer more fleshed out fic but #sometimes flash fics are Like That

[daisychains4]

Strings (12/16)

Chapter 12: Never Be Alone (Masterlist)

Warnings: None

Note: Italics are song lyrics

AN: This is the Shawn Mendes x reader AU teenage heartbreak story you didn’t know you needed.

Shawn sent you a short text the next day. “I’d like to meet him.”

Your reply was even shorter. “Ok.”

Shawn didn’t know where you lived. You’d always insisted on meeting him in neutral locations, and now he understood why. But you’d sent him your address when he asked when and where he could meet his son.

He stood outside your door, screwing up the courage to knock. Several deep breaths later, he finally managed to rap gently on the door. He held his breath as he heard the lock click.

You didn’t let him in; instead, you cracked the door just enough for you to slip out into the hallway, blocking his view of inside.

“Hi,” you said. You sounded nervous, like you were meeting for the first time all over again. “Before you come in, I need to know,” you began. It sounded like you had rehearsed what you wanted to say. “I need to know that you really want to be part of his life. Because I can’t let him get close to you if you’re just going to disappear.”

Shawn hadn’t been expecting this, but he answered as honestly as he could. “I want to be in his life,” he said, “if you’ll let me.”

“I do want him to know his dad,” you said, then hesitated. “But I… I’m scared of losing him.”

Shawn could hear the pain and fear in your voice, and it broke his heart. “I don’t want to take him from you, (Y/N),” he said truthfully. “I just want to know him. And help you.”

He knew you feared abandonment; he knew what your mother had put you through, and he could only imagine the pain and heartbreak you carried all those years. He would do everything in his power to show you that he wouldn’t put your son through the same.

I promise that one day I'll be around;

I'll keep you safe.

I'll keep you sound.

You nodded your head, then reached back to open the door to your apartment. Shawn followed you inside.

It was tiny, but it was bright and clean. Shawn knew he could cross the entire apartment in just a few strides, and he felt instantly guilty about the size of the home you shared with your son compared to where he lived alone.

You watched Shawn’s face closely as he took in the tiny kitchen and living room. Shawn’s eyes finally fell on a small table in the corner under the window on the far side of the space. A little boy was sitting in a little chair, coloring diligently. His little tongue peaked out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on his picture.

You stopped next to Shawn, still watching for his reactions. Shawn inhaled sharply. “Is that— is that him?” he barely whispered.

“Yes,” you said, just as quietly. You both watched the beautiful boy quietly for a long moment.

Finally, you broke the silence. “Baby,” you said, more loudly, so that the little boy would hear you. He looked up at you and smiled. “There’s someone I want you to meet,” you said.

He stood up from the table and crossed the room. Shawn stopped breathing altogether when he saw the little boy’s face. It was Shawn’s face.

You reached down to pick up your son. Shawn’s fingers itched to reach toward the boy and touch his curly brown hair. Shawn’s hair.

“Shade, this is,” you paused, deciding what to say. “This is my friend Shawn,” you decided.

Shawn’s eyes misted over and he had to swallow the lump in his throat before he managed to say, “Hi, Shade.” He stuck his right hand out, out of habit or awkwardness. He hadn’t been around too many little kids.

He was surprised when Shade reached out and shook his hand. “Hi,” said the little boy, smiling. “Nice to meet you.”

“Why don’t we sit down,” you offered, motioning toward the love seat. “Shade, you can show us what you’re working on.”

Shade was happy to present his artwork to the adults. Shawn asked questions about his picture, and he was blown away with the young boy’s vocabulary. He couldn’t always understand him, but the little boy was talking in paragraphs. Shawn didn’t know any better, but he would’ve expected words, sentences maybe. Shade was well-spoken and polite, always saying please and thank you, yes ma’am and no sir.

“He’s like a tiny adult,” Shawn observed impressively. You were watching Shade play with a plastic car on the floor in front of you.

“Well he’s always around adults or big kids,” you said. “He’s at the studio with me all the time.”

Shawn had so many questions for you, it was hard to know where to begin.

“He’s two?” he asked.

“Two and a half,” you replied. His birthday is March second.”

“How did you come up with Shade?” he asked curiously. “I’ve never heard it as a name before. But I like it,” he added quickly, “it’s different.”

You blushed. “I wanted to name him after you,” you admitted. “But… I also didn’t want anyone to find out he was yours. You had gotten famous, it felt like overnight. I don’t know why I worried that someone would connect the dots. I was paranoid, I guess.”

Shawn didn’t know how to respond. He was starting to realize that the public finding out Shawn Mendes had a son - your son - was a source of anxiety for you.

You stood up and crossed the small living room to the equally small kitchen and picked up a book off the counter. You handed it to Shawn when you sat back down.

The cover had a picture of a newborn Shade. Underneath the picture was a block of text in navy writing.

“Shade Peter Raul Lennox,” Shawn read to himself. He was moved that the amazing creature in front of him shared parts of his name.

Shawn opened the book and began looking through the photos inside. It was like looking at a story of his entire life, from his very first moments curled up on your chest in a hospital bed to countless photos of him crawling around, then dancing with the older dancers at the studio. Shawn beamed at every photo. His son was obviously so loved and so happy. He wiped unashamedly at the tears in his eyes.

Suddenly, Shade was standing in front of you, holding his toy car out to you. It had broken when he crashed it into the coffee table and he was on the verge of tears. “Mummy fix it,” he pleaded.

Shawn reached out a hand for the car. “Can I take a look?” he asked.

“Ok,” Shade said, handing the car to Shawn.

Shawn took a moment to reassemble the car. He got down on the floor to hand the repaired car back, and was an instant hero in Shade’s eyes.

You watched with tears in your eyes as Shawn and Shade played together on the floor. Shawn had seemed unsure of himself with Shade at first, but he was warming up quickly as he played cars on the floor. Shade took an instant liking to Shawn as they played. He was soon climbing all over the man he didn’t know was his dad. You could have sat watching them forever, but your eyes landed on the clock on the wall across from you and you realized it was time to start cooking dinner if you wanted to get Shade to bed on time.

You cleared your throat, and Shawn looked back at you.

“I need to start dinner,” you said. Shawn could see the redness in your eyes, and realized his must look the same.

He began to stand up, disentangling himself from the little boy as he realized that was his cue to leave. “I should get going,” he said.

“Or you could stay,” you said hopefully. “For dinner,” you clarified.

Shawn looked at you as if to ask, Are you sure? You nodded.

He smiled as Shade made a concerted effort to climb his long leg. “Is it ok if I stay for dinner, Shade?” Shawn asked as he pulled the little boy into his arms.

Shade beamed. “Yes!” he shouted gleefully.

“Ok,” Shawn agreed. “I’ll stay.” He couldn’t help but stare in awe at the giggling boy he held in his arms. “But you know,” Shawn whispered conspiratorially in Shade’s ear. “We should ask Mummy how we can help,” he said.

Right now it's pretty crazy,

And I don't know how to stop or slow it down.

You were overcome with emotion. The perfect domesticity of hearing Shade’s dad talk to your son, call you Mummy, overwhelmed you. You turned away from the scene to gather yourself. Shawn noticed. He put Shade down to play on the floor again and walked quietly into the kitchen behind you.

You froze as you felt Shawn standing behind you, so close you were almost touching.

“Hey,” Shawn said soothingly into your ear as he leaned just slightly over your shoulder. He wanted so badly to pull you into his arms, but he was afraid he would scare you away. “Are you ok?”

You sniffed and nodded your head. You wiped at your eyes once again. “Yes,” you said breathlessly. “I just… seeing you two together…”

Shawn wished you would turn around so he could read your face. “Is it too much?” he asked worriedly. “I can back off—”

“No!” you exclaimed, more forcefully than you intended. You turned around, finding yourself almost pressed against Shawn in your tiny kitchen. You inhaled sharply. “I’ve waited for this for so long. It’s better than I ever dreamed it could be.”

At the sight of you crying in front of him, Shawn couldn’t resist anymore. He pulled you toward him by your elbows and wrapped you in his arms. He let you cry into his shoulder as he stroked your soft hair and whispered “It’s ok” over and over again. Your shoulders shuddered and he held you more tightly. It felt like you were beginning to let go of three years of fear, pain, anxiety, and heartbreak.

When your breathing finally returned to normal, you pulled back and wiped your eyes again. “I’m sorry,” you said, smiling bashfully. “I’m a mess.”

“You’re perfect,” he said, still holding onto your arms. He couldn’t make himself let go.

Hey—

I know there are some things we need to talk about.

And I can't stay—

Just let me hold you for a little longer now.

You seemed to suddenly realize how close you were, and you knew he could feel the tension crackling between you. You slowly pulled back from him and let out a shaky breath. You turned back to the food you had laid out on the counter to make dinner.

“What can I do?” Shawn asked. He understood that your moment, whatever it had been, was over.

“You can cut up the vegetables,” you answered, pulling a cutting board and knife onto the counter.

Shawn was happy to help, although he was somewhat inexperienced in cooking beyond putting a frozen pizza in the oven. You noticed, and tried not to laugh.

“You don’t cook much do you?” you asked, taking the knife out of Shawn’s hand. He watched as you lined up the vegetables in even rows and cut them quickly into smaller pieces.

“No,” he admitted sheepishly.

You smiled. “That’s ok,” you said, “As long as your mum isn’t still doing your laundry,” you teased.

Shawn blushed.

“No!” you said, laughing in earnest now.

“Not all of it!” he tried to defend himself. “You try keeping up with laundry when you stay in a hotel room more than you stay at your own house!” He knew the argument was weak.

“Forgive me if I don’t feel too bad for you,” you teased.

It was the most relaxed you had been since your reunion. Shade had come into the kitchen looking for Shawn, and he’d allowed himself to be lead away. It’s not as if he was really helping with dinner. You continued your comfortable chatter as you finished up in the kitchen. It wasn’t long before the tiny apartment smelled like whatever wonderful meal you were cooking.

You rejoined the boys — my boys, you caught yourself thinking — on the living room floor. You all played together while dinner cooked in the oven.

An hour later, Shawn was clearing the table. He had insisted that he do the wash since you had cooked what turned out to be an incredible dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables. Shawn was impressed at how well the two-year-old boy ate. He thought little kids were supposed to be picky.

“Shade, it’s bath time!” you said.

Shade tried to run away, but there weren’t many places he could go, so you caught him easily.

Shawn listened to the sounds of bathwater running and you and Shade laughing. It was his turn to become overwhelmed with happiness— and uncertainty.

When you returned to the kitchen, you were cradling Shade, who was wrapped up in a towel. Shawn quickly recovered himself, hoping you and Shade wouldn’t notice. He reached out to tickle Shade and relished the sound of the little boy’s squeals. Shawn had always known he wanted to be a dad, but had never thought too much about what that would entail. He would give anything to have more moments like this.

“Someone wanted to say goodnight,” you said, holding your son close to Shawn so Shade could give him a hug.

“Goodnight, Shade,” Shawn said as the little boy wrapped his arms tightly around his neck.

“Goodnight, Shawn,” he replied.

You took the boy back out of the kitchen and into what he assumed was Shade’s bedroom. After a few minutes, Shawn heard the little boy calling out for him.

He walked across the apartment and into the only door he saw. He found you sitting on the edge of Shade’s tiny toddler bed, tucking him in. Shawn quickly took in the details of this room. It was small like the rest of the apartment, and you had managed to fit your bed and Shade’s bed into the tiny space. Guilt once again tugged at Shawn as he thought about what you had had to sacrifice to take care of your son - his son. How he was more than capable of supporting you both, but you’d never asked him for anything.

“Sing me a song!” Shade exclaimed happily.

Shawn squeezed down in the small space on the floor next to Shade’s bed. You had to curl your legs under yourself further to accommodate everyone.

“Any requests?” Shawn asked. “Do you have a favorite song?”

Shade scrunched up his nose in thought, then said “no” rather unhelpfully.

Shawn thought about a melody he’d been working on earlier that day. He began to whistle for the little boy. He didn’t have any lyrics planned, but as the best songs always did, the words flowed from him freely as he began to sing to his son.

Take a piece of my heart,

And make it all your own,

So when we are apart,

You'll never be alone.

You'll never be alone.

He whistled the melody again.

You'll never be alone.

When you miss me close your eyes,

I may be far, but never gone.

When you fall asleep tonight,

Just remember that we lay under the same stars.

And hey—

Shawn looked in your direction.

I know there are some things we need to talk about.

And I can't stay,

Just let me hold you for a little longer now.

You couldn’t take your eyes off Shawn as you thought about the words he sang.

And take a piece of my heart,

And make it all your own,

So when we are apart,

You'll never be alone.

You'll never be alone...

Shawn choked on the last words.

You kissed Shade on the forehead and ruffled his hair. “I love you,” you said. You stood up and walked to the door before turning to look back at Shawn and Shade.

“Goodnight,” Shawn said again.

“Goodnight Shawn,” Shade yawned. “Will you come back tomorrow?”

Shawn glanced up at you. You nodded. “I’ll be here,” he whispered into his son’s hair. “I’ll be here.”

And take a piece of my heart,

And make it all your own,

So when we are apart,

You'll never be alone.

You'll never be alone...

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes au #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes multific #shawn mendes never be alone #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes relationship

[imaginarybird]

Unwilling and unable to face everyone on her own when it comes time to attend Auggie and Ava’s wedding, Riley Matthews hires a solution in Lucas Friar. Loosely based on The Wedding Date.

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

Rating: Around a PG 13/14

Notes: As always,  thanks to everyone who has read, reblogged, commented, liked…whatever you’ve done to support the fic. It means the world to me. And just a reminder, I’m more than happy to chat about this or any of my other fics if you pop into my inbox.

In this chapter, Lucas gets his introductions to Topanga. And Maya. And then he and Riley do some sharing. 

“It’s lovely to meet you Lucas.” Riley’s mother is the picture of poise as she smiles and shakes his outstretched hand--warm and not at all what he’s expecting after making the rounds in the dining room. “It’s always nice when Riley actually gives us a peek into what her life is like now.” 

The barb, presented behind the veneer of courteous small talk lands just as intended; Riley’s grip on his hand tightens and out of the corner of his eye, Lucas sees the edges of her smile draw in.

That’s more like it.

Meeting the rest of the Matthews family, from her grandparents on her dad’s side to her aunts and uncles and their families (most of the Matthews family now live scattered across the country according to Riley, and are using the destination wedding as a vacation and quasi-reunion) has thus far been a mixed bag of awkwardness, passive-aggressive needling towards Riley and suspicion aimed in his direction. They’d just been running out of small talk to go over with the only surrogate uncle invited to the full family experience, Shawn, when Topanga and Maya had returned to the dining room. Maya had gone back to her husband upon entrance but Topanga had zeroed in on and them to greet Riley and receive her introduction.  So far, Topanga only checks off the box of passive-aggressiveness, leaving Lucas curious. Of all Riley’s blood relatives in the room, only Auggie and Riley’s Uncle Eric had been genuinely at ease and warm with her (and him), but Topanga would come across as such to anyone not paying close attention.

 Is her relationship with Riley not as far gone, Lucas wonders, or is she just better at hiding what’s wrong?

He instinctively leans towards the latter option; when she’s not flustered Riley has a mask that could fool almost anyone. She had to have gotten that skill from someone.

 “I’m just glad I was able to get the time off to come out with her.” Lucas says. “Riley has become so important to me over these last few months and I really want to meet everyone who’s important to her.” The comment is a bit cheesy, he knows, but most of the time when he throws it at parents of his clients, they eat it right up, and he figures it makes for a pretty decent litmus test. How Topanga reads the implication could give away a bit more about where she stands with Riley.

 “And yet you’re here.” Topanga swoops her head in a single nod. Her smile doesn’t falter, but her voice is just a pitch too bright. “Riley must not talk to you very much about us.” 

“No, but she paints a picture.” Lucas drops Riley’s hand in favor of wrapping his arm across her shoulders and bringing her a bit closer. She stretches an arm around his waist in return. 

“I’m sure she does.” Topanga’s eyes narrow, ever-so-slightly. Her attention quickly focuses on her daughter. “Riley, you and I will have to have a lunch while you’re here, just the two of us. I feel like there’s a lot we need to catch up on.”

“Sure.” Riley nods, pressing her lips together. Her eyes go just about everywhere except for her mom’s. “I mean, if there’s time.”

Topanga scoffs. “I’m sorry, are you really not going to make time for your mother?”

It’s the first crack in Topanga’s perfectly pleasant facade, Lucas notes. Her eyes flash and her voice gets louder...more strident. Meanwhile, Riley seems to shrink back, even without moving an inch.

“That’s not what I--,”

Topanga cuts Riley off. “We haven’t even been on the same coast of the country in over a year and you barely call twice a month, which I graciously forgive because I know how hard you have to work as a young woman who’s the low man on the totem pole, but now you’re here on vacation and you still can’t carve an hour out of your busy schedule to catch up with me. Are you really that--,”

“I think she just meant that we’re here for Auggie and Ava’s wedding, ma’am.” Lucas steps in before Topanga’s words can get too hurtful, a path they are obviously starting to barrel down. He doesn’t bother trying to tamp down his displeasure or hide it in any way; bonding so quickly with Riley is going to be problematic, particularly when he’s usually so capable of not feeling anything real for his clients) but right now he’s not going to complain that it’s making his job fairly effortless. The protective ire that bubbles up in his chest at Topanga’s practical emotional bullying of Riley is exactly what a caring boyfriend needs. “And as a member of the wedding party, Riley’s schedule has pretty much been planned out down to the second. However, I’m sure if anything changes, you’ll be Riley’s first priority.” Unlikely, but he can’t afford to alienate Topanga entirely.

Topanga’s mouth is opened, poised to deliver what promises to be a diatribe of a rebuttal when a soft, repeated clinking cuts through the chatter of the room.

Ava’s at the head of the dining table, water glass and fork in hand. “Thank you. Everyone is finally here, so if you could all take your seats by the appropriate place cards, we can get the meal underway.

Lucas takes the moment of distraction to gently pull Riley away to the table. A cowardly move? Possibly. It’s obvious that several members of intimidated by her, even afraid of her though aside from her crafty ability to disguise guilt trips and condescension as part of her perfect mom and super woman thing, Lucas has yet to see a compelling reason why. But he also doesn’t want to cause a scene and draw attention, something that could easily happen if he and Riley stay in this conversation, and he’s fairly certain that they won’t be seated anywhere near the elder Matthews’.

Lucas’ second priority is to get Riley’s train of thought away from Topanga; part of having him as her boyfriend for the week should be that she gets to relax and impress her family and former friends--be every ounce of the warm and bubbly personality being stifled beneath her yearning to please the people that by his count, aren’t interested in being please. “I thought this was an informal dinner…” He leans down slightly to comment in Riley’s ear as they walk. “Is she serious about place cards?”

“Ava doesn’t joke about parties she’s involved with.” Riley answers him. As she continues to talk the stiffness slowly bleeds from her posture. “She’s a planner. Very detail-oriented. She has a Pinterest board about how to make the perfect Pinterest Board.”

“So I should double check that my suit and tie won’t clash with the wedding colors?”

“If you don’t want to be barred from entry to the ceremony, I would.”

The meal starts well enough. They’re sitting closest to Riley’s Uncle Eric, a Senator who Lucas recognizes from the news and myriad appearances on late night talk shows (though he never would have made the connection to Riley without the introduction) and his wife, Linda.  Riley’s relationship with Eric seems quite normal and even affectionate compared to the rest of her family, it’s easy enough for the foursome to hold a conversation--Riley and Eric giving each other updates on the goings-on in their lives with Lucas and Linda occasionally interjecting-- and block out the rest of the room. By the time salad comes out, Riley appears to have put the encounters with her parents at the back of her mind and is starting to enjoy herself, laughing as Eric recounts a dating mishap he and Linda had back in high school, the first time they had gotten together. 

Riley doesn’t even falter when Linda smiles sweetly and comments, “So Riley, Eric didn’t know very much at all when I asked him about you and Lucas and you’re so sweet together… I am dying for details. How did you two meet?”

After all, Lucas thinks, this is a story that they came up with together. They’ve practiced telling it and Riley is comfortable so she answers without pause. “At the hospital. I was at the main desk working on my charts and Lucas had just brought in a coworker of his that had gotten sick during their shift together.”

“And I’m trying to help him fill out his paperwork,” Lucas cuts in, angling his glance towards Riley occasionally as he speaks, “but I keep getting distracted by this beautiful nurse with a stuffed bunny rabbit around her neck.”

“My stethoscope cover.” Riley rolls her eyes. She leans to the side as she giggles, her shoulder bumping his and Lucas is impressed; he hadn’t been sure that she’d be at ease enough--with him or the situation--to forget about the play-acting element of the week let their interactions happen naturally as they would with most couples but she’s surprising him the more the evening goes on by starting to show a bit more of herself. “And you were way more distracted by that...I don’t think you even noticed my face.”

“Oh I noticed you too, but I had never seen one of those before.”

“Because they’re for pediatric patients. Anyway,” Riley continues after their shared look, “I’m working away and he’s ogling my rabbit--,”

“Which is not something I approve of my niece’s suitors doing in public.” Eric interjects.

Riley flushes brightly, but doesn’t stop talking. “We’re both doing our thing and this guy comes up--the boyfriend of a patient I’d been working with earlier--and he’s upset, asking all these questions about his girlfriend that I can’t answer. I’m not allowed to, but that’s not the response he’s looking for. He gets really mad and he grabs my shoulders and starts shaking me. Lucky for me, Lucas was there.”

“I just wanted to get the guy off of her.” Lucas clarifies. “He was a kid, but he was huge, and I didn’t see security anywhere so someone had to do something.”

“Oh my gosh, so you stepped in and saved her?” Linda’s rapt expression melts into a smile. “Oh Riley, no wonder you fell for him.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it was instant or anything...” Riley giggles and nearly stammers. It’s the first part of their story that reads like a bit of a lie, which Lucas finds interesting. It’s almost like she’s defending herself against the claim of falling for him though he can’t imagine why. It’s not like there’s anything wrong with the scenario they’ve concocted it’s not unusual at all for a person to become attracted to someone who does something like intervene is they’re being threatened. Whatever the initial spark of attraction to someone is caused by, it doesn’t make the subsequent relationship less real. Not as long as you build a solid foundation on top of it. “I still had to get to know him.”

“Still…” Linda gushes. “What a way to meet. And you’ve been dating ever since?”

“It was three months last week.” Lucas nods. He lays a hand on top of Riley’s, brushing his thumb across her knuckles and causing her to glance over at him. There’s a brief flash of the same uncertain, deer-in-the-headlights look the gesture had caused on the plane in her eyes, but just as quickly it retreats, making way for her small, bashful smile to return.

Her really adorable, bashful smile.

The really adorable, bashful smile he finds himself returning and wanting to see more of.

Lucas has to tear his gaze away when Eric starts to speak.

“Three months in, a week-long trip to meet the family...sounds pretty serious.” Eric peers pointedly over the glass he has raised near his mouth. “Riley never introduces us to her boyfriends so for her to bring you here to face the entire firing squad...she must think you’re something special. Maybe the next wedding we get together for will be for you two.”

“Eric!” Linda and Riley admonish him in unison, while across and a little farther down the table, a blonde groans and rolls her eyes.

“Oh please.”

Eric loses some of his convivial nature at the muttered comment and lifts his chin at the woman. “Something you want to add to the conversation, Maya?” The edge in his voice is unmistakable; Eric is not his sister-in-law’s biggest fan, and Lucas wonders why.

Across the evening he’s gotten the feeling that Maya plays a role in the story of Riley’s estrangement from most of her family--she just hasn’t featured in the snippets that Riley has given him. But the mention of her is enough to cause an increase in tension, and despite the fact that she’s Riley’s age and her aunt by marriage, there had been no attempt to greet her thus far; if anything Maya had seemed to deliberately avoid being near Riley until they had taken their somewhat adjacent seats at the table.

The blonde seems to get along with everyone else and fit in well with the rest Matthews’ family, so there has to be something causing the unease and disquiet. Unless it’s just the fact that Riley doesn’t get seem to fit in well with them, but that seems unlikely. They’re all adults after all.

“I just think it’s hilarious that you think Riley and this...Norman Rockwell rip-off are gonna get anywhere near marriage.” Maya says, stabbing at a cherry tomato in her salad with her fork. “We all know Riley doesn’t do the relationship thing anymore. And even when she did it was not with guys like him.” She pops the tomato in her mouth, and talks around it. “It’ll be a miracle if they make it to six months, let alone to an engagement or a wedding.”

Josh, who Lucas has only interacted with enough to form the opinion that he hero worships Cory and worships his wife, leans over to quietly chastise her at the same time that Riley shrinks back in her chair.

“Guys like me?” Lucas asks. He’s careful to leave his tone friendly enough and a smile on his face but he nearly squares his jaw just the same; he can’t see how Maya’s comment is meant to be anything but a jab at Riley, even if she wasn’t directing it towards her. He has to reach for her hand again when Riley tries to pull away.

The table starts to hush as the conversation continues, everyone else catching on that something more interesting than general family catch-up is happening.

“You’re crazy hot.” Maya blinks, like she can’t figure out what he doesn’t get. “Like, stupid hot.”

“So?”

“Riley has a type and you’re not it.” Maya shrugs. “She’s never dated anyone like you.”

“That’s funny,” Auggie comments from a few more seats down the table, levelling a sharp stare at Maya, “I don’t remember you having any complaints about who she chose to date when you were in high school.”

That’s it, Lucas realizes. That’s where the story is. He should have known. It always goes back to high school 

He knows that the secret to the story lies in Auggie’s words because Cory and Topanga both immediately start demanding that he apologize to Maya, and most everyone else seems to be caught up between joining in on the fight that brews when Auggie refuses and making sure that Maya’s OK. Meanwhile after a few moments of this building voluminous explosion where her name gets thrown around more than once, Riley, face burning bright pink and eyes shining with tears pushes away from the table and rushes out of the dining room.

Lucas is the only one to notice.

He doesn’t understand the situation--doesn’t understand what a girl like Riley who seems to be so soft and caring and full of exuberance could have done to have such a polarizing effect on her family--and the more he watches the Matthews, the less sure he is that he needs to; it’s not his job to fix them anyway and Riley never asked him to. She asked him to be her companion for the week and make everyone think that they’re a couple.

With all of that in mind, no horse in the game, and starting to give in to his distaste for the Matthews and the way they treat Riley, Lucas stands and walks out of the room without a word.

After a detour through the kitchen where he snags something they can eat (as the meal hadn’t really been underway when they had left) Lucas finds Riley sitting out on their room’s balcony, staring out at the beach with her knees pulled to her chest. He observes the situation for a brief moment (she’s not crying as he was sort of expecting), and raps his knuckles twice on the doorframe.

“You want to talk about it?” 

Riley doesn’t turn to look at him when she answers. “No.”  The one syllable tells Lucas everything he needs to know. It’s dull and wet; she’s swallowing it all down, something she’s obviously used to doing. For every snide comment, dirty look, or outright attack she had faced from her family, not once had she been the one to fight back, not in any meaningful way. She made a few token attempts to defend her current life, but otherwise took everything they had to throw at her in shrinking subservience.

When did she learn that? Lucas wonders, though he shakes his head as soon as the thought emerges. If the family’s conflict isn’t his problem than neither is the history of Riley’s behavior. Diving too deep into that rabbit hole is just another way of getting too close and becoming attached, and there’s no room for that in a business arrangement like theirs.

“Do you want to be alone?”

“Not really.”

Again, not what he expects. But Lucas complies, and steps out onto the balcony, taking a seat next to Riley on the small bench seat. After a brief moment of sitting in the thick silence, contemplating his next move since she doesn’t want to talk about what just happened, Lucas presents his (slightly stolen) plate of food. “Do you want cake?”

This at least gets her to turn and look at him.

Riley’s eyes go from his, to the plate he’s holding with a genuinely massive slice of cake and two forks on it, back to his eyes. “Why do you have cake?” The corners of her mouth twitch up, though the expression doesn’t grow further.

“I wanted to make sure you got something to eat.” Lucas replies, grabbing one of the forks and holding it out for her to take. “But the most portable options were either the basket of dinner rolls or...cake. And I thought given the choice…”

“Yeah, cake is good.” Riley nods, taking the fork.

Lucas watches as she cuts into the cake with gusto, taking one large mouthful of red velvet, and then a second. After a moment, he joins her using the second fork, and although the dessert is a bit sweet on his largely empty stomach, it’s moist and rich and exactly the sort of thing he likes to eat when he’s treating himself. Judging by Riley’s reaction, she feels the same way and they eat in the relative silence of the crashing waves for a couple of minutes before Lucas decides that they’re settled enough and comfortable enough that he won’t be overstepping to speak.

“I grew up in Texas,” he begins, feeling more than a little awkward. This isn’t a conversation he normally has with his clients; it’s not a conversation he normally has with anyone although his business partner knows most of it. “In this little tucked away pocket of a town near Austin where everything just felt so backwards and stuck in time compared to the city. A small town like that… everyone knows everyone and everyone knows everyone’s business… Appearance and what people see you do is everything. And my family owns the biggest ranch in the town so we’re kind of at the center of that microscope.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.”

“It...wasn’t great.” Lucas confirms. “I had a family legacy to live up to and as much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t do it. And the whole town knew.”

“Is that why you left?”

“One of many reasons.” He waits a moment to see if she’ll say anything else and when she doesn’t, he continues with his story. “When I was five, my dad entered me into my first mutton busting tournament.”

“Mutton busting…?” Riley quirks an eyebrow.

“It’s like a rodeo except instead of adults it’s little kids, and instead of riding bulls you ride sheep.”

Riley smiles as the explanation sinks in. “So...the most adorable miniature version of a sport ever.”

“You don’t really see it as adorable when you’re trying to be the very best and uphold the family name.” Lucas says. “Then it’s just…”

“Impossible to focus on anything other than the anvil of pressure that your family is laying across your shoulders?” Riley fills in, lowering her fork back down to the plate.

Lucas doesn’t respond to Riley’s explanation directly, although he’s not surprised that she has such an innate understanding of the situation even without many details; it’s becoming increasingly evident to him that although their actual experiences have been different, their situations are actually quite similar. “If a Friar was entered in the tournament, they always made the strongest showing. My dad, my uncle, Pappy Joe, his dad… mutton busting is a rite of passage in the town and the first step to upholding the Friar family legacy. And I wanted to do it. I thought I was ready. I trained hard as a five-year-old could, watched videos of other tournaments… I was ready to be the best damn mutton-buster they’d ever seen. Then the tournament came and I drew Judy the Sheep as my ride.

“And I know what you’re thinking,” he continues. “With a name like Judy, she had to be an easy one, right? Just a cute little innocent fluffball.”

“I’m guessing not.”

“Judy,” the name still nearly sends a shiver down his spine, “was an unhinged and violent sheep disguised as an innocent fluffball, who bucked me off within two seconds.”

Riley’s hand is on his before the explanation is even complete. “That must have been awful…”

“Just like that I was the laughing stock of the town.” Lucas confirms. “A failure. And Friars can’t be failures. After that it didn’t matter what I did… all anyone ever saw was the kid who fell off Judy.”

“I think disappointing people unlocks their memory banks.” Riley sighs. She takes her hand back and starts playing with the hem of her skirt. “You do something that doesn’t meet their standards and it’s like they’ve got an infinite loop of every mistake you’ve ever made playing in their brains.”

Lucas still can’t wrap his head around what Riley could have done to disappoint anyone. She’s a successful nurse, so it can’t be that they disapprove of her career, and personality-wise… she’s got a family that uses every opportunity to remind her that she doesn’t fit in and that they don’t think she’s trying hard enough and she doesn’t ever seem to fight back or get mad or really try to defend herself. She just keeps playing nice. If that’s their idea of a personality flaw…

Lucas considers himself to be very good at reading people and an excellent judge of character but this not something he can figure out how to understand without a lot more help.

He leans forward and rests the remaining cake on the small table in front of them. “I spent years trying to make them see past all that. Swallowed every piece of myself that they didn’t like to try and fit in... turned into the worst possible version of myself and it still didn’t change a thing.”

“And that’s why you left.” Riley fills in.

“Same reason you did, I’m guessing.”

“Yeah.” She shifts in her seat, looking askance. “Only I get the feeling you don’t go back anymore. And that you think I’m pretty stupid because I do.”

Lucas half-nods, half-shakes his head. “No, I don’t. On both counts.” He tacks on, nudging her shoulder with his. “We’re two different people, Riley. Leading two different lives. My solution isn’t necessarily yours.”

“I just… don’t know how to stop caring about them. They’re my family.”

“That’s the thing. I never stopped caring about them. I just started caring about myself more.”

They sit and talk for several more hours until long after the sun drops down below the horizon. Riley doesn’t share the history of what happened with her parents, but she tells him how a summer internship with her Uncle Eric while he was working on healthcare reform led to her choosing to study nursing. They finish the cake and talk about movies and music and when a slip of the tongue reveals his secret love for Cuddle Bunnies, they spend a good chunk of time talking about their favorite characters and which episodes they go back to watch when they’re having a bad day. 

It’s the most open and relaxed he’s ever been with a client and Lucas isn’t sure how to feel about that. He’s always kept boundaries in place for a reason --things just get messy when you get too involved and at the end of the day this is his business. His livelihood. But it’s just so easy to blur the lines with Riley and forget that at the end of the day, she’s just another customer.

They talk right up until they’re both yawning so much that they aren’t even getting full sentences out, and at that point he urges Riley inside to get ready for bed.

Bed. Which they still haven’t discussed and definitely don’t have a plan for.

Given the day they’ve had and Riley’s obvious lack of comfort earlier, Lucas thinks the smart thing to do and the only real options is to go with his original default plan. When he sees Riley go into the bathroom with a bundle of clothes and close the door behind her, he ducks back into the room and grabs a pillow from the bed. From there, Lucas sets to work turning the small sofa into something more comfortable for sleeping.

He does that, changes into some sweatpants (and after a small amount of mental debate leaves his undershirt on though he would usually sleep without it) and is just about to consider settling in when Riley comes out of the bathroom.

She’s got light purple short set pajamas on and her hair in a side-swept braid across her shoulder and Lucas feels his mouth go dry. Then she looks at what he’s doing and crinkles her nose in a confused frown and he nearly falls back onto the seat.

He is in so much trouble.

“Why does it look like you’re planning on sleeping on the sofa?” She asks.

She’s just a client. Part of a business transaction, nothing more. Don’t go falling for something you can’t have, Lucas. It’ll only be you that gets hurt.

After giving himself the mental pep talk, Lucas coughs once into his hand and answers, feeling slightly re-secured in the nature of their relationship. “I thought you might be more comfortable if you had the bed to yourself.”

“Oh.” The syllable falls from her mouth and she glances at the floor. “Won’t you be uncomfortable? It’s just that...you’re so tall and that couch is pretty short, and I wouldn’t feel right about that. If we’re gonna do this, I should be the one on the couch.”

There are many different parts of him that won’t stand for that. “What? No. Riley, that’s ridiculous. This is your trip, your family, you’re the one who needs to get the best night’s sleep possible and you’re the one in charge, so you need to take the bed.”

“If I’m the one in charge, then I can insist that you take the bed.” Riley argues. “I’m already making you put up with my family for a week, I’m not gonna make you put up with back pain from a poor sleeping surface on top of that.”

“You’re not making me do anything, you’re paying me.” Lucas counters. He nearly frowns when he sees something flash in Riley’s eyes but continues his piece of the debate. “And I’ve told you before, that as long as it’s not illegal I’ll do pretty much anything for a client.”

Riley squares her shoulders and crosses her arms over her chest. “Then what if I said I wanted to share the bed with you?”

“Then we’d share the bed, but I don’t think that’s something that’s really--,”

“I want to share the bed.” Riley nearly stammers when she makes the assertion but she makes it all the same.

“Riley…”

“I want to share the bed.” She repeats, a little firmer this time. “We’re both adults. I’ve shared a bed before and I’m sure you have too. You said nothing would ever happen without my permission and I trust you. There’s no reason we both can’t be comfortable tonight.”

He sighs, mentally adding ‘stubborn’ to the list of traits he can confirm about her. “I can agree with all of that, but I just don’t agree that you’ll be comfortable. You’re still adjusting to holding my hand.”

“And if everyone’s really going to believe that we’re together then I have to be more comfortable with touching you. All of you.” She blushes and turns away in a rush to continue talking, pulling back the sheets. “Consider sharing a bed immersion therapy. It’ll be fine.”

Lucas kind of doubts that, but there’s only so many ways he can make the argument. Riley doesn’t appear ready to back down, and they need to get some sleep to face the day tomorrow; in many ways, it could end up worse than today was, given how the dinner had ended. If she’s gonna insist on sharing the bed, he figures he either has to do it, or go for a walk, come back when she’s asleep and take the couch anyways. And quite frankly, he’s tired enough that he doesn’t want to go for a walk. “All right. We’ll share the bed.”

As they both get into the bed, Riley’s bravado fades a little bit and they share several glances where her nerves are more evident, and Lucas thinks about offering the couch one last time but she doesn’t say anything and before he can, she turns the light out.

Comfortable where he is (he really has been able to sleep pretty much anywhere) Lucas closes his eyes, but he doesn’t get anywhere near falling asleep. For the next several minutes Riley is finding a position staying there for a little bit and then shifting, and it’s all too much movement within their shared space for him to relax and fall asleep.

Finally, she lies flat on her back and sighs. “Lucas?” She whispers.

Figuring this is the moment where she gives up and asks him to move, Lucas starts to sit up. “Yeah?”

“I was...it was nice out on the deck when we were talking. Could you…?”

Oh. Lucas lowers himself back down onto the bed, and takes a moment to think. “You know how I told your dad I’m putting myself through vet school? That was true. I’m gonna be a veterinarian someday.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. One day when I was in the sixth grade I was home alone after school and I went to the barn to hang out with the horses, and one of my favorites, Sofia, she started foaling…”

#rucas #rucas fanfic #riley matthews #lucas friar #gmw #fanfiction #au #fic: Cold Cape Cod Clams