#Also bought some plants and had to throw away some dead ones cause they were annuals very sad about that.

[baepsays]

BTW I AM A FREE MAN EXAMS ARE DONE WOOOOOOO I AM FREEEEEE

[birdiebowers]

polar explorers' graves 2/2

Time for Dobrowolski! He was the one I wanted to visit most, as it was his recent anniversary. But his grave was harder to find than Arctowski's, so I left him for last.

I bought him a fresh flower, as last time there was only a wilted winter wreath. I also brought with me a small blue candle and some matches.

There was a lot to do, so I quickly set my shoulder to the wheel.

(I'm glad that my previous candle stayed there 🩵)

I started with the general tidying up. Unfortunately, I had to throw away a wreath that had been brought in by pupils from one of the schools. As I mentioned, it could have been from this winter or even the year before. It was very shabby and the needles were falling off. It had completely faded in the sun, so I got rid of it. It was a shame because I was really touched that a group of twelve year olds had visited the site and brought flowers.

The grave is under a tree, so it became a target for crows (one was screeching at me all the time I was cleaning it up). It was covered in sand, dust and leaves. Luckily the gravestone was flat, so it was easier to sweep up than Arctowski's.

The problems started when I realised there was no tap anywhere near me. I only had a small container of water and I had to go back and forth across the cemetery. After a few minutes I managed to find three (!) water canisters. This speeded things up considerably.

I poured water on the tomb (causing a little flood) and began the standard process. Washing off the first layer of mud and sand, then cleaning the stone so the D/2 could work. I coated everything with biocide and took a break. I had half an hour, so I decided to wash the glass candles.

I carefully rinsed off the biocide and started scrubbing with a soft sponge soaked in stone-friendly liquid.

It handled dried dirt perfectly and helped me discover something surprising.

It's not a glacier (as I thought), but the silhouette of the Belgica! Previously it was covered in flowers and mud, but now it is clearly visible. I have a photo without liquid' smudges:

(I guess I'm just blind lol)

I managed to finish after an hour and a half. I kept three artificial white flowers from the school wreath. They came in handy when there was a problem setting up the decoration. I changed it several times because something didn't fit. It wasn't until I made a little construction out of my flowers and pupils' flowers that everything started to fit. I also weeded out all harmful plants around

The result of my work was satisfactory, but not in photographs. Dobrowolski's tomb is made of a strange rock with many very different types of stone. Some are so shiny in the sunlight that they look like greasy stains. A bit like the holographic images on ID cards or banknotes. It was frustrating because it seemed dirty to me all the time.

The end!

I was tired but happy. I spent a lot of time there and had an unpleasant journey in the high temperatures earlier, but this work really helped me to relax mentally. I got so involved that I came across the closed gates of the cemetery. I was stuck there, but luckily the workers hadn't left the Powazki cemetery yet and they let me out. I was very lucky, because spending the night there would not have been my dream come true.

Voilà!

I hope this will encourage you to look after the local (or more distant) graves of people who, for whatever reason, are important to you (even if it's just a dead 20th century scientist that nobody remembers). It's important to keep the memory of them alive, especially if they're worth nothing to some — just because they didn't hear about them.

[noirhistories]

Welcome to Antioch, JEN BLUME ! Local sources report that you’ve been in town for YOUR ENTIRE LIFE and are known to be HELPFUL yet SECRETIVE. Others have dredged up rumors that you’re involved in THE VAMPIRE OF ANTIOCH as JEFF BLUME’S TWIN SIBLING, but most know you for your work as a CASHIER at ONCE UPON A BOOK. We’ll see you around town soon !

BASICS

Character Name: Genesis 'Jen' Yvette Blume Nickname (s): Jen (she doesn't care if you use a J or a G), Sisi, Blossom, Princess Face Claim: Florence Pugh Birthday: May 1st Place of birth: Antioch, Oregon, USA Zodiac: Taurus MBTI: ESTJ Moral Alignment: True Neutral Sexuality: Bisexual Occupation: Cashier, former florist Place of work: Once Upon a Book, former employee of LoveCrafts (fired) and Secret Garden (quit) Subplot affiliation: The Vampire of Antioch 3 positive traits: Helpful, detail oriented, patient 3 negative traits: Manipulative, Secretive, vindictive Languages: English Love language: Physical touch

TRIVIA

Believes herself to be psychic

BIOGRAPHY

tw: death, one mention of suicide

You came out seven minutes after Jeff and he never let you forget it. You were the baby and you played up to it, letting everyone think you're so dainty and that you need protection. But they were all wrong because the only person you ever needed was your brother.

It was a stereotype how close you and Jeff were. Most siblings you knew fought constantly and hated each other, and sure, the pair of you could fight, but you would also burn the world for him. At nine years old, you spilled lemonade on a sleeping bag and screamed about how one of the most popular girls in school peed the bed because she hurt your brothers feelings. You were never doubted and never caught.

At ten, when a boy put gum in your hair and you had to cut it out, your brother stole a letter opener to cut his bike tires. Jeff was caught, but everyone understood by that point - The Blume twins were a unit, you always fought against both of them.

So when you lost Jeff, of course you lost part of yourself. You knew long before they ever found Jeff's body that he was dead, because he never would have left you, and the way you grieved for the lost part of your soul long before the cops ever came knocking caused more than a few heads to turn in your direction once the Blume name blasted across televisions and newspapers.

Did she do it? They whispered, gossiping about how much the codependency you were known for had rotted away at your better judgement. After all, they murmured behind hands, Jeff could never leave now. No one would ever have the chance to be closer to Jeff than you.

They were right about that, but it didn't mean you were guilty, and you didn't give them the satisfaction of saying anything.

It wasn't only the people suspicious of you, but the cops as well. You went to them when Jeff first disappeared and they wrote you off as some foolish, ditzy blonde that bought into too much mysticism. Claiming to know someone was dead because of a feeling seemed the realm of psychics, and the law doesn't believe in those.

So much attention was put on you, and part of you wanted to scream that the attention belonged to Jeff. There was a funeral that needed to happen, a remembrance, a hunt for the real killers. You were so angry at them, and sometimes that seemed like all you could feel, no matter your best efforts.

You were always good at growing things, but the new life of blooming plants while your brother was cold beneath ground was suddenly too unfeeling for you, so you quit your job as a florist.

You tried to feel alive again and keep from replaying the ways all those people could have died and the way one simple change might have saved them by throwing yourself into an affair, becoming the other woman without concern about who you might hurt.

It wasn't really a surprise when you ended up fired, but it was a shame because you'd been enjoying the job. It seemed as though without Jeff, all you did was keep finding ways to implode, doing it so quietly that no one even noticed.

You heard once that when women committed suicide, they were more likely to do it in a bathtub because they were aware of the clean up that would be left for others. Considerate even on their way to death. You understood that. You recognized and resembled that, even when you wished that you didn't.

But you couldn't fade away, not when someone out there hurt Jeff. As long as the guilty party was out there, you would remain quiet and waiting because after all, the Blume twins are a unit. Hurt one, and the other hurts you back.

CONNECTIONS

Wanted Connection #1: Someone that she was having an affair with, a coworker she got caught fooling around with and she/they ended up getting fired for it.

Wanted Connection #2: Someone that suspects she or her brother were somehow involved in the killings. She and her brother were incredibly close and people think Jen has changed since losing her twin, just like the details of the crimes have changed.

Wanted Connection #3: People close to her brother! Best friends or exes of Jeff's that Jen keeps up with and looks out for, or who check in on her. Or maybe even people that she hates for not doing enough for her brother and keeping him from getting killed.

[hops-hunny]

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: Slightly suggestive flirting, fluff

A/N: This chapter is so cute omg I hope you guys like it <3

“Oh come on (Y/n)! It could be fun!��� Twyla called after the girl, who she was currently chasing around the halls of the manors. The tall men in suits watched them but didn’t interact, not sure of what to do in the situation. The (h/c) haired girl ignored her, making lala noises with her fingers in her ear. “Real mature, babes, real mature!” When they got back to the girl’s room, Twyla closed the door, locking it so her friend couldn’t escape. She got on her knees, pleading and begging the girl.

“Twyla I can’t just pick up and go on a trip to Italy!” she shouted, forcing the girl to stand up. The tall girl grabbed her shoulders, shaking her shorter friend in her arms.

“Why nottt?” she whined out. (Y/n) smacked her hands from her shoulders growling some at her.

“A multitude of reasons, Twy! The main one being oh I don’t know, who’s gonna look after my damn bakery!” she hissed out the last part, throwing herself on the large bed, the blonde joining her shortly after. “I’ve got no one to watch the bakery, I don’t have any clothes nice enough to take and even if I did I’d have to travel by floo back home to get them! Also, who’s gonna water my plants? I love my plants, Twyla!” she ranted causing the girl to shush her.

“Relax, you worry too much and there’s a simple fix to all these so-called ‘problems’ you have.” she sat up, pulling the girl up with her. “Let’s start with problem one. You said you have to run the bakery, right?” (Y/n) nodded, curious of where the girl was going with this. “Easy, ask Tiana to run it for a while. She’s been looking to get more hours in since she just bought a house.”

“I can’t ask that of her! Plus, she can’t do all of that with the staff we have now, she’d be understaffed!” she said, watching the girl type away on her phone. She was always so amazed by Twyla’s ability to use muggle technology.

“Well lucky for you, you won’t have to ask her. I just did!” her boss gawked at her, going to tell her off but she continued speaking. “And plus, it’s summer. Do you know how many culinary art students are looking to get hands-on learning in an actual bakery? You don’t handle the application process anyways, Tiana does that. Remember, you stopped doing that because you’d cry any time you had to reject an application.” she made many valid points, slowly pulling her over to the side that wanted to go, wanting to be on a trip with Neville. “Also you’re the only owner who spends so much time working. Isn’t the point of owning a business to make people do shit for you?”

“That’s true.” she sighed, picking at the skin around her cuticles. “But what about my apartment? And my clothes?” 

“Don’t you still talk to that old couple that sold the bakery building to you? Ask them to watch your plants!” she retorted, smirking triumphantly. Slowly but surely her reasons for not being able to go were dwindling. (Y/n) sighed before shrugging.

“You know what? Screw it, I’ll go.” Twyla squealed, grabbing the girl’s hand as she dragged her out the door.

“Hey tall man, where’s Neville?” she asked the guard who was posted outside. He cleared his throat, adjusting his sunglasses.

“In his office. Downstairs and to the left, miss. He’s currently in a me-” without another word she grabbed the girl, dragging her downstairs. They reached the large wooden doors that had two large men standing there causing the shorter girl to cower in fear. Their glares were intense as they stood up straighter.

“Can we help you?” one of them asked, his rough voice booming. The other one nodded along, leaning down to her height as he gave her a strong glare, vein on his forehead popping out. 

“The boss is in a meeting so unless you’re someone special, get lost.” (Y/n) felt her lip quivering, tears welling up in her eyes. 

“Oh you’re fucked buddy, that’s the boss’s girl. Come on, I’ll let you guys in.” an unfamiliar voice said from behind her. Turning around she saw two identical men, quite lanky and tall in stature. She couldn’t help but notice how they favored another certain Ginger she knew.

The one on the left pressed on the small earpiece in his ear, clearing his throat. “Hey boss, your lady friend is out here crying. You should get more observant guards.” he said giggling as a shout could be heard from beyond the large door. The men visibly paled but kept their composure. The door swung open revealing Neville, who adorned a white button up and black trousers, a pair of suspenders connecting the two together. 

“I-I’m sorry boss, I didn’t know.” one of them stuttered out, sweat building up on his bald head. Neville gripped his shirt tightly pinning him to the wall causing the man’s feet to lift from the ground. (Y/n)’s eyes widened at the sight. The man he was lifting had a large, muscular build making her wonder just how strong Neville really was.

“If you think that’s something, you should've seen him last night.” Twyla whispered out the corner of her mouth, the twins nodding along in agreement.

“You better listen because I’m gonna say this once.” Neville said, a calm tone which was somehow scary if he was to yell. The man nodded along frantically, wide eyes trained on the man. “That girl right there? She’s my flower. Let it be known that if she sheds a tear caused by any of you, you’re dead and what I’ll do will be worse than anything the Weasley twins could do combined.” and with that he dropped him, walking over to the girl. Weasley twins? So they were related to Ron! She felt her face flush as Neville leaned down, brushing away the tears that had threatened to fall from her eyes. “You alright, love?”

“Yeah I was just coming to tell you that I’ve made a decision. I’ll be joining you in Italy.” she whispered, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He grinned at her lifting her up in a hug as he spun her around, laughing some. “B-but I don’t have any clothes so I still have to figure that out.” he sat her down, shrugging nonchalantly.

“Just buy new ones when we land.” he declared. She froze, scratching the back of her neck. That would be an easy solution if she hadn’t spent any extra savings she had on the night before.

“I don’t really have the money to do that..”she trailed off. Neville put something in her hands causing her to look down confused. In her hands was a black card, his name engraved in the front of it. “Is this...is this a black card?! I can’t take this. Plus what about you know, “ she cleared her throat, blood rushing to her cheeks and ears. “My undergarments. I don’t have any on me for before we go shopping.” Neville smirked at her words, feeling particularly confident from her flustered expression. She was so soft, so...pure. Anytime he neared her she’d get all warm in the face and anytime he kissed her that same look would double. Temptation was his flower and he was tempted. Hearing her inquire about something that had innocent intent behind it had him thinking about anything but.

“Nonsense, pretty girl. Take my card and for your undergarments..” he trailed off, leaning down next to her ear. He placed his hand around her neck, gently squeezing it as he chuckled. “Let me take care of that. Better yet, let me buy the ones for the trip as well.” he whispered, nibbling the shell of her ear. (Y/n) squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes. Was he doing this on purpose or was it a simple misunderstanding? Either way, she couldn’t stop the heat pooling between her legs. “I’m only messing with you cutie. However I wasn’t kidding, leave that to me.” with a final peck to her lips he stood up straight, adjusting his tie before heading back through the wooden doors, the twins following behind him.

“Nice meeting you (Y/n)!” they said in unison, offering her a smile before they closed the door after themselves.

“You know he totally wants to bang you, right?” Twyla said, causing the girl to glare at her. She held her hands up in defense, looking back at the girl as she began to walk off. “I’m just saying! It’s obvious. You should share a room with him when you go to Italy.”

“Do you..do you think he’d want that? I don’t wanna get in the way of-”

“Are you kidding me?! The man practically worships the very earth you walk on, why wouldn’t he?” Twyla exclaimed as the girl followed her blindly. (Y/n) gasped, looking up at where they were. Around them were large counters on the floor and ceiling. Marble countertops with a matching marble floor along with two large fridges and a state of the art oven. Ignoring Twyla’s rambling, she began to walk through the kitchen, inspecting and exploring every part of it. Her eyes landed on the pantry to which she opened, letting out another surprised noise. It was massive, food lining the walls, all organized to perfection. There was even a walk-in freezer and fridge down the hall!

“Twyla, I’ve gotta use this kitchen. If I don’t bake something in here I’m going to die.” she said, running out to the girl as she began to shake her back and forth. “Quick! Give me an excuse to so I don’t feel bad about messing things up!”

“Ooh! I love excuses! I mean, Neville’s having a meeting so you co-” before she could finish the girl put the kettle on before beginning to pull out various different bowls and ingredients.

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

“Well, do you have security plans?” Neville asked from the end of the table, quirking a brow at the italian man at the end of the table. He noticed even through the man’s fear that he probably didn’t understand what Neville had said fully. “Sorry, um, avete piani di sicurezza?” he asked, causing Blaise to quirk a brow at the man’s fluent italian. Neville rolled his eyes at him before turning his attention back to the man. He nodded, sliding back a file folder filled with papers. 

“How long are we going to be there for?” Seamus asked.

“Does it matter? Money is money. Plus it’s not like you have anything important going on in your life, Finnegan.” Draco retorted which resulted in the shorter man growling as he grew red in the face.

“Don’t you dare fucking start. If you’re going to act like fools I’ll replace you with two lower levels in a heartbeat.” Neville gritted, not even looking up from the plans. He looked at the other man next to the italian man. “And you, what’s the exhibit worth exactly? If there’s no high hitting items we can already consider this a dud.”

“U-um. It’s estimated that it’s worth over 1.5 million, sir.” he responded, gulping as he reached for the water they had given him with a shaky hand. However, Neville wasn’t satisfied with that answer.

“Listen, did I ask you what it’s estimated to be? I asked for the exact cost. If you only have estimates then how bout I est-” he was interrupted by light knocking on the door. “Who is it now?! J-just come in.” he said, huffing out. The door opened followed by a quiet set of footsteps causing the inner circle of men to smile, giggling some. Curiosity got him, causing him to turn around, his expression instantly softening. “Petal? What are you doing here, angel girl?” he asked, pulling her closer but being careful of the large tray in her hand.

“I thought you might want some snacks for your little meeting. I hope there’s enough for everyone.” she said, setting the tray down on the table. It was funny really, comical, the way the doily and flower covered tray contrasted with all the men in the room. On the tray was a large array of different foods. Scones, tea biscuits, even tea sandwiches. In the center was a beautiful antique floral teapot along with matching cups. 

“This looks amazing, princess!” he exclaimed, his stomach grumbling in agreement. She giggled at that, causing his ears to tint pink. “There’s most certainly enough. Go on fellas, don’t be-” before he could continue the men began to grab at the food, swooping in like vultures. 

“Oh my god, this is like heaven!” Seamus moaned out, bits of sandwich falling from his mouth. Ron nodded along in agreement, a bunch of unintelligible words leaving his mouth. Even Blaise was wide eyed as he sipped at the tea, taking a bite of his tea biscuit.

“Yeah, is there any more of this? What kind of tea is this? I don’t think I’ve had the pleasure of having it before.” he said, taking another sip. She looked at them sheepishly, leaning into Neville’s embrace.

“It’s butterfly pea tea infused with strawberry and honey. Also there’s more of everything! I kinda went overboard.” she responded. Neville smiled, grabbing her hand before placing a kiss on top of it.

“Well thank you, I really appreciate it. You’re so lovely.” he muttered, turning her hand to place a kiss on her palm before proceeding to do the same all up her arm. She giggled some at the action, looking away from him shyly.

“Well I better get going before Twyla buys more stupid things with Draco’s black card.” she turned once as she got to the door. “Good luck with your meeting!” 

Neville sighed happily before turning back around, looking at the men at the table before them. He grabbed whatever scraps the ravegers had left, eyeing everyone intensely. “What?” he spat out angrily.

“Mate you are so whipped!”

PREVIOUS||NEXT

TAGSLIST: @vayeya11 @pink-hufflepuff @clancyscookies @elemental-of-magic @beewitchedlou @simpforremuslupin @mottergirl99 @princesslaiahg​ @nevillelongbottomsgirlfriend​ @redpanda-poetry​ @vibingaesthetically

[cozyjsuh]

nct au

favorite things au

genre: all fluff here

pairing: nct 127 x reader

taeil: hand kisses

10/10 the most loving person ever

loves to hold your hand and place kisses on it whenever you’re around

the other boys gag at the sight of their simp of a member 

“ew hyung. get a room.”

“you rascal, i can’t. i share with yuta.”

movie nights with him would just consist of him holding your hand close to his mouth so he could kiss it whenever he wants to

the both of your hands get super sweaty but he still doesn’t let go

leans his head onto your shoulder while you concentrate on the movie

when you sleep, he holds your hand close to his lips

overall, he loves the softness of your hands

johnny: forehead kisses

the man is literally 7’11

he can barely reach your forehead by bending down

when he embraces you, your face gets buried in his chest

and i’m ngl, you literally almost suffocate

still, the giant loves affection and touch

you’re literally big spoon 7/10 times

he loves to kiss your forehead when he comes back home from work

on date nights, as the both of you wait for the subway, he wraps you inside of his jacket and pulls you close to his chest while pressing forehead kisses nonstop.

“y/n. please come to bed, i wanna snuggle.”

“sorry, but working on something important.”

“more important than me?”

“of course.”

let me tell you, he sulked. for like an hour before asking for more cuddles.

“i’m just kidding, john. you’re more important than anything.”

flurry of forehead kisses and cuddles

taeyong: cheek kisses

a total softie

and everybody knows it

he likes to stare at you with a small smile every time you enthusiastically talk about anything

tbh most of the time it’s about your university classes

he doesn’t care because he just loves you too much

gets super jealous when you’re hanging around the other members

so he plants kisses on your cheeks every once in a while

you don’t notice his behavior until you feel a tiny tug on your sleeve and find him pouting

“why are you pouting?”

“because.”

“because?”

“pay attention to me, not them.”

you laugh at his words

“okay.”

he leans over to you and leaves a flurry of kisses on your cheeks whenever you lie on his bed and wait for him to finish playing games

your animal crossing houses are legit #couplegoals

he becomes mom of the nct group while you the dad

just loves you so much that he can’t keep his lips off of your cheeks

yuta: neck kisses

as everyone should know, yuta nakamoto is a trouble maker

he loves to embarrass you in front of anybody

which means giving you random neck kisses in front of your parents or the members

he also loves to do stupid pranks on you

one time, he put one red sock in with your white laundry

let’s just say, he got a good beating and slept on the couch for a week

another time, he mixed wasabi into your mint ice cream

thanks to your high spice tolerance you felt nothing

but he felt something when you beat him again

as you lay in bed, watching netflix on your ipad, he jumps on top of you and leaves soft kisses on your neck

“yuta, it tickles.”

does it more just to tease you

by the time you leave their dorm, your neck is wet with yuta’s saliva

doyoung: eye kisses

you lay in bed with him

enjoying the sunlight that shines through his window, to be exact

since his manager was busy with the other boys

the both of you had a chill day

you lay your head against his chest as music softly plays from his record player

he plays with your hair

twisting it, twirling it, everything basically

your legs wrap around his as he softly laughs while watching videos on his phone

“honey.”

“yes y/n?”

 “what do you love about me?”

“to be honest love, everything. but if i have to pick one thing, it would be your eyes.”

“why?”

“because i know that i’m the only one you look at.”

he leans and gently kisses your eyelid

and he’s right, he’s the only one you see

jaehyun: ear kisses

let me just get this out there

this boy wakes you up with ear kisses

he just adores your ears the most

he also loves it when you snuggle into his chest

that’s just when he can get closer to your ear

he whispers sweet nothings into your ear, fully aware that you are listening

“you’re so beautiful.” or

“i’m so glad you’re mine.”

loves kissing your outer ear

with the plus of hearing your giggles

by the time he arrives back home, he back hugs you as you cook dinner

again, he whispers

“how was your day,” or

“hello honey.”

his breath tickles your ear

you push him off

“just get ready for dinner. then i’ll allow you to finish.”

he speeds off and comes back in legit four seconds

ready to give some ear kisses

jungwoo: nose kisses

junguwu

what’s more to say

he loves the size of your nose

especially when he can boop it with his finger

you can literally spend years away from jungwoo

but he will never forget your beautiful nose

any chance he gets, he doesn’t forget to kiss your nose

he will always take you to little hidden cafes for some alone time with you

the both of you read books while in the company of one another

you stare out into the snowy city

jungwoo on the other hand, stares at you

before grabbing your hand and running outside with you

you look at him surprised as he lets go and picks up a snowball before throwing it at your face

you then repeat his action

at the end of your snowball fight, your noses were red

he wraps his scarf around your neck and uses it to pull you closer before

dropping a kiss on your red nose

mark: classic lip kisses

mans is a classic romantic

he loves to leave pecks on your mouth randomly throughout the day

whenever you talk to him or the other members, the only thing he stares at are your lips

yuta, unfortunately notices

“yo mark, are you distracted by y/n’s lips?”

“w-what? n-no.”

you softly laugh and continue your story

one day, you and mark decide to go to an amusement park

he plays a bit of games to win you a stuffed animal

in which all attempts were fails

so you told him it was fine and just decided to go on rides

but not rollercoasters cause mark is a literal child

but your last ride of the day ends up being the ferris wheel

as the both of you finally reach the top, mark speaks

“y/n, i love you so much.”

“i love you too mark.”

he leans in for a kiss on his favorite part of your body

your lips

haechan: shoulder blade kisses

he’s a little shit

but he’s your little shit

you walk into the dreamies practice room as the finish up

setting down the bag of chicken you bought for them

hyuck takes you out of the room and to the roof of the building

“where are we going?”

“shh.”

he opens the door and

bam, picnic on the rooftop

“hyuck, you set this up?”

“no, jaemin and jeno did. but i helped!”

back hugging you, he leaves subtle kisses along your shoulder blades

the rest of the night was spent making fun of each other and a food fight

in which, you got in trouble by doyoung and taeyong

but you ran away after so it was fine

a/n: hi, i’m not dead, yet. but this is my first post after being on a super long hiatus on writing because of my writers block. i have so many stories i need to finish, so please stay optimistic and continue loving my stories!

overall masterlist

[unlocktxt]

Game Over

choi yeonjun

genre: horror, yeonjun x reader

word count: 2k

warnings!!!: THIS INCLUDES BLOOD AND GORE! there is mentions of murder, drinking, and cursing. it is also a bit suggestive. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

note: I tried writing this really quickly and it is unedited, so it may be pretty bad.

every halloween... a girl goes missing. every halloween a certain family moves. for every person celebrating halloween, there is another mourning.

“babe! please! you know how much i love halloween.” a frown adorns your face as you stare at the boring boy infront of you. you had a whole day planned in spirit of this one time of the year!

“y/n i already told you... i don’t feel comfortable celebrating halloween anymore.” yeonjun sighed as he rubbed his neck. anytime you brought up halloween he’d just get jumpy and ignore all your ideas.

you huffed before thinking, “okay... since we can’t come to an agreement... why don’t we compromise?” you were upset that he was being a debby downer on Halloween, but you assumed he had his reasoning.

he was one of the sweetest boys you’ve ever met, honestly he could do no wrong... but with that came his fear. you met him almost a whole year ago and around that time he would jump at everything... the first time you met him he was crying with some dead flowers in his hand. he had gotten better over the months that you two have been together, but there were certain moments when he would have a breakdown... and he never told you why. you only assumed that halloween was one of those days that brought back bad memories for him because these past few days he’s been extremely paranoid.

“i don’t know y/n... i really don’t feel like going out tonight.” he didn’t look at you this time, just looking down while playing with his fingers.

you walked over to him- who looked more fragile than ever, and took his hands in yours. “we don’t have to go out to celebrate halloween. how about we play some classic halloween movies- that are not scary- and carve some pumpkins.” you stated into his hesitant sparkly eyes that always managed to calm you down. you could only help you could do the same to him and as his stiff body relaxed a bit, you knew that you had.

“and... there’s no going outside right? we can just stay in the house- with the doors and windows locked.” yeonjun raised a brow, wanting to confirm before he would let his guard down.

“yes yeonjun we can stay inside and lock the doors and windows.” you smiled softly at his cute paranoia. who knew people could get this scared over halloween?

yeonjun instantly enveloped you in a hug, “thank you baby.” you could only let out a small laugh at his behavior, “of course.”

you had gotten the pumpkins and all of the supplies to carve them, while yeonjun was busy locking everything. he even made sure to close the blinds.

“okay baby can you turn on hocus pocus? i’ve already secured the pumpkins.”

after yeonjun turned on the movie, the two of you started your carving.

“babe... babe. i think i’m gonna throw up. the inside of the pumpkin feels disgusting!” yeonjun quickly took his pumpkin juice hand out of the pumpkin, looking at it in disgust.

“you’re such a baby, you’ve done worse things than emptying a pumpkin.” you chuckled as you looked in between him and the pumpkin. now wearing a smirk, you grabbed a handful of the pumpkin insides and threw it at his face.

he sat for a few seconds in disbelief before swiping the plant off of his face. he could only stare at your hunched over figure, while plotting his revenge. while you were too busy laughing he put himself to work, carving an even bigger hole before speeding through the gutting.

having seen his fast at work arms, you stopped laughing only to realize he was going to finish before you.

“oh so we’re racing now?” you grinned, unaware of his intentions, and started to get to work yourself.

your arms were getting tired and before you could tell the boy that he won, a cold orange pumpkin blocked your vision.

“yeonjun! that’s so disgusting!” you took the giant thing off of your head only to witness your boyfriend dying from his laughter. it was a major contrast to the frightened boy before. it warmed your heart, and you wanted to see more of it.

“oh so you think that’s funny huh?” his laughter only became more intense as a response. you rolled your eyes playfully before putting his pumpkin down.

before you could say or do anything else there was a crash coming from upstairs. yeonjun’s laughter instantly subsided, replacing with his trembling hands.

“i’ll go check it out.” you decided, quite spooked yourself, but you didn’t want yeonjun to have to deal with it.

“no!” his sudden shout caused you to jump and look at him in awe. “i’m sure it’s nothing... i’ll go check it out.”

he walked up the stairs slowly with his hands in a fist. time seemed to go by slow. the eerie silence didn’t calm you nerves. it had only been a few minutes, but yeonjun hadn’t said anything.

“yeonjun! is everything okay?” you hollar, preparing yourself by grabbing the knife from carving.

“yeah! sorry babe, but a few kids broke out window.” your stiff shoulders finally relaxed as you put the knife down.

“ok! we will have to get someone to fix it, but for now let’s finish carving our pumpkins.” your racing heart started to slow while waiting on your boyfriend to come back down the stairs.

“actually... i was thinking... you bought these hot couples costumes for us, so maybe we should put them to use.” he was walking down the stairs, but his suggestion had you in awe.

“what are you implying mister?” your cheeks were flushed as you wondered what had gotten into him.

“well i know you planned for us to go to eunjin’s party, so i thought why not? it should be fun because i’ll be with you.” yeonjun was already wearing his fake bloodied doctors outfit. he looked good in it just like you predicted.

“go on, put yours on.” he threw the bloodied nurses outfit at you while grinning. his aura was completely different, but you couldn’t complain... it was attractive.

you hurriedly put your costume on in front of him before excitingly grabbing the car keys.

“hurry we’re already late yeonjun!” you jumped around in excitement before yeonjun smacked your ass from behind you. your eyes widened at his sudden action. you were taken aback because he never did that.

“sorry your ass just looked too good not to slap.” yeonjun pulled you and your red face closer to him as the two of you walked out of the house.

the halloween music was blasting in your ears, the party lights only adding to your party spirit.

“go have fun babe, i’ll wait for you.” yeonjun looked around, his hooded eyes scanning everyone in the room.

“or... we could both go and get a few drinks.” you smirked at yeonjun as you grabbed his hand, leading him to the kitchen. he was smirking along with you as you found the alcohol.

you didn’t know what you were drinking, but you managed to drink a cup full. with yeonjun’s encouragement you managed to be on your fourth before he dragged you outside where everyone was dancing.

it had gotten a little hard to dance once the alcohol kicked in, but yeonjun managed to keep you afloat. eventually he leaned in, kissing you deeply. his plump lips moved against yours in a rough manner, but you managed to replicate it. He bit your lip, causing a spark within you to ignite. your mind may be hazy, but you knew what this feeling was.

yeonjun pulled away first, seeming to read your mind. “fuck this party I have something better in store for you at home.” his words excited you and you rushed with him driving.

“okay y/n put this on.” yeonjun placed the blindfold in your hand, looking at you with expectancy.

“oooooh... kinky.” your slurred words didn’t help the sentence, but you managed to put on the blindfold before he guided you up the stairs. the two of you were silent as he sat you in a chair before using a belt to tie your hands and feet. ‘this is a completely new yeonjun.’

“and... surprise!” yeonjun ripped the blindfold off of you and you were met with him sitting across from you- his mouth clothed and his hands and feet just like yours. what was going on?

it wasn’t until the same man that tied you down walked over to what you thought was yeonjun. you must be seeing double after whatever the hell you drank.

“poor y/n looks confused yeonjun. whatever shall we do?” he confirmed that the one sitting was yeonjun, but then who was he and why was he looking at you with fake sympathy.

“i kissed your sweet little girl friend yeonjun... it was nice to actually get in some of the action... now i know that we don’t need you. i can have all the fun myself. you failed your job, so i had to come in and do it for you. you’ve always been a sucker.” yeonjun- or whoever this man was- twirled the knife in his hands before walking over to you.

“now y/n... you made this too easy. you were so thirsty for me that... i almost feel bad for you. we can’t have you running your little mouth though can we?” the man- yeonjun’s twin- reached for your tongue as you screamed. in attempt to get the man away from you, you bit down hard- managed to get him to pull away.

“you bitch!” your heart was racing now. he was going to kill you. you hopped in the chair, trying desperately to get out. you wish you could remember all of those defense videos you had watched.

“oh... i’m going to enjoy your slow and painful death. your blood will decorate this house very nicely.” he glared at you with a sinister smile. you fumbled with the belt, but the actual yeonjun tackled the evil twin. you don’t know how he got out, but he was buying you time and that’s all you needed.

“leave her alone! you’re fucked up you know that!” yeonjun yelled as he punched his brother. you continued to struggle underneath your restraints as yeonjun continued to pound the sicko.

yeonjun stopped after a few minutes and walked up to you. he also terrified you. you don’t know if this was all some game to him. he failed his job? what does that mean?

“don’t worry y/n... i’m not gonna hurt you. in fact, after we call the police you can run as far away as possible.” he sighed, sadness in his voice. was this the yeonjun you knew? was it all an act?

“w-what did he mean by your failed job?” you asked as he started to unbuckle you.

“well... i’m apart of this family who kills people every year. i never wanted to be apart of it...” he choked on his words as he started to sob, “but... i didn’t know a way out until now. i plan on turning them all in thanks to you.” you felt awful. he disgusted you, absolutely disgusted you. he’s the reason so many people have died... he’s the reason you could’ve died... yet you loved him.

“i’ve never killed someone with my own hands... here’s the phone you can call the cops. make the decision you would like.” you got up quickly and grabbed the phone, dialing 911. you reported the crime as quickly as possible, knowing this was going to be a lot to explain...but at least you had yeonjun.

once you put the phone down you walked over to yeonjun, hugging him as the emotions bombarded you. it was a lot to take in.

“thank you y/n.” yeonjun sighed, hugging you tightly.

“for what?” you asked, almost pulling away until a sharp pain came from your lower back.

yeonjun pushed you off of him, “for helping me kill my brother.” the yeonjun who always looked fragile looked different now. he was emotionless, worse than his twin. you fell to the floor, trying to get your legs to work to no avail. yeonjun grabbed your hair as you teared up.

“plea-” a slit to the throat. that was how all of their victims died, but this time... the other twin was tainted with the blood of an innocent.

[restapesta]

The Tomato Thief

Enjoy this little something I wrote based on a prompt here on Tumblr. Feedback is always appreciated.

Words: 4.3k

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The first time Ian noticed his tomatoes half-gone, half-squashed from the small vegetable patch he had started working on when he and Mickey moved into the apartment complex, he chose to ignore it. Pretending as if the loss of his small, barely ripe cherry tomatoes was insignificant, he mentioned no word of it to anyone, making a conscious decision to simply start the planting process once again. So, in the past month, Ian, choosing not to get frustrated, but rather improve his skills, was trailing along the edge of a nervous breakdown, trying to get his little patch of land replenished. When he realized that the second time doing something he initially started as a hobby would be much more difficult than the first, he feared that what he intended to be relaxing would turn into aggravating. If it wasn't for the security business, he probably would've had a meltdown, very much hurt by the fact his poor tomatoes were gone, but somehow, he managed to power through it, luck being somewhat on his side, making the tomato-growing process faster than before. It was a long excruciating process, living with the secret that all of his previous hard work was now replaced by even harder work and determination, but the sight of his vegetable patch replenishing itself as if it were never ruined, along with the Westside growing even fonder to both him and Mickey, almost starting to feel like home, made it all sort-of worth it for Ian. His husband was happy, his home was beautiful, his business was expanding, and his tomatoes were finally turning a deeper shade of red, after being torn out the first time while they were mostly green. Ian was truly very much happy.

Until he woke up one Saturday morning, excited to start his weekend off by gardening, his way to relax from the crammed-up week he and Mickey had, both enjoying the little separate bubbles they created, together yet apart, Mickey with the pool he grew to love, and Ian with his veggies, working away in the Sun -- and found every single one of his tomatoes gone, neatly picked from their stems, as if done by a professional.

First, Ian had paled, his complexion turning impossibly whiter in the bask of the afternoon glow. Then, his left eye began twitching. Anger bubbled inside of his chest, and he finally understood his husband's urges to break chairs and signs, and throw tantrums -- Ian felt like murdering somebody. Wrapping his hands so tight around the neck of the person who took his tomatoes which weren't even ripe for taking yet, and squeezing until he saw the life leave their eyes. Scaring himself at the thought, he took a deep breath and then held it for a long period of time -- a questionable, dangerous, life-threatening period of time. He was sure that his neck and cheeks were even redder than his poor tomatoes were when he had last seen them. Exhaling quickly, he balled his hands into fists and made his way quickly to the vegetable patch to examine it better.

Crouching down, as if he were in a detective movie, he observed the soil, in case the culprit left footprints or accidentally dropped a valuable item Ian could use to identify them with. When he saw nothing helpful, but rather just his regular garden -- sans the lost reds -- he rolled over all of his options in his head. 

It could've been an animal the last time -- a squirrel or a bird, considering how a lot of the tomatoes were simply just squashed -- but now, the precision the tomatoes were picked with... there was no other possibility. It was one of the other tenants, somebody who deliberately wanted to either get revenge on Ian or simply to eat the vegetables Ian had worked so hard on for himself and his husband. It was ironic how he saw red.

Breathing deeply, composing himself more with each inhale and exhale -- a technique he had been forced to learn in court-mandated therapy -- the ginger made his way from the garden to the manager's office, strides quick. Melanie, the on-sight manager, was in the room, along with her poodle when Ian knocked on the door.

"Hi." She chirped in greeting. "How may I help you?"

Ian forced a smile. "I was wondering if you perhaps had cameras in the garden area? I think someone stole something I left there, by accident." He lied, not wanting the woman to think of him as even a bigger fag for caring about dumbass vegetable-fruits. Much to his dismay, she shook her head apologetically. 

"Sorry, no. Was it valuable?"

Yes, Ian thought sadly. "Nah. Probably just misplaced it. Thank you anyway."

She smiled again, "You're welcome. Say hi to your husband for me."

"I will." He waved goodbye and exited the office, closing the door behind him.

No cameras, no clues. He had no fucking idea how he could possibly catch the asshole who had the nerves to fuck with him. Suddenly, he understood what he needed to do. 

Mickey was lounging by the pool, sunglasses on, looking hot as fuck, enjoying the day when Ian found him. Stepping in front of the chair Mickey was sitting on, Ian blocked the beams of light which were hitting Mickey's body, slowly giving him a nice tan. Mickey begrudgingly opened his eyes to stare at Ian, pushing his sunglasses down slightly, as if wanting to give Ian a better look of his 'why the fuck are you blocking the Sun' expression. 

"What?" He finally asked, pushing his RayBans back up.

"Baby, I need your help killing someone."

Mickey's eyebrows scrunched up in confusion, assessing Ian's face for any sign of humor. When he found none, he blew out an exasperated sigh. "Why?"

"Someone stole my fucking tomatoes."

Ian could see Mickey's eyes close again behind the black glass. "Who?"

"I have no fucking idea. If I did, they'd already be dead. This is the second time, Mick!" He shook his head in disbelief. "First time, I let it slide. Thought it was a bird or some shit. So, I did everything again this past month, made sure everything was better than before, had a near fucking episode over the stress that shit caused me, and now, they get fucking stolen, again!" He was breathing raggedly now, even angrier than before. His shrink's anger controlling methods only worked for a short period of time, he guessed. "We need to kill them."

Ian sat himself down on the chair next to Mickey's, slouching back in defeat. His poor tomatoes. He felt his fingers intertwine with soft, warm ones, Mickey's thumb rubbing soothing circles over Ian's. "We can't kill them," Mickey started. Ian was about to respond how he knew that, how it still made him really fucking angry, but Mickey continued, softly, "without knowing who they are. Once we know who they are, we can slip rat poison into the tomatoes, and have 'em dead in a heartbeat. Can't even pin it on us, 'cause then they'd have to admit they stole it."

Ian's eyes widened slightly, amazed and terrified by his partner at the same time. "I forgot you were a murderer here for a second."

Mickey smirked at Ian's growing smile. "Parole for attempted murder, Red. Need I remind you? Did you forget how much that turned you on?" He was now inching closer to his husband, chin jutting out, seeking out a kiss. Ian complied, even in his angriest moments still horny for his worse half, moving his lips against Mickey's slowly and teasingly. 

"We can't kill them." Ian voiced out after they broke apart, now much calmer.

Mickey snorted, settling back in his chair. "No shit."

"We can find out who the fuck it is, though."

"How the fuck you gonna do that? All your tomatoes are gone, right? 'S not like you can just make new ones appear."

Ian thought about it for a second, "Who says I can't? I have my ways."

Mickey nodded mockingly. "Sure, tough guy. Is this the moment I find out I've been married to a wizard?"

"Store-bought tomatoes, Mickey." Ian deadpanned.

"Oh."

"We plant those, and then go on a stakeout." He was already devising a master plan in his head. How they would buy the tomatoes at WholeFoods -- get the expensive ones so the bait was even more tempting, make it look as if Ian grew them himself (even though that was impossible by the rules of time -- but the person had to be stupid enough to steal from a Gallagher after all, so it had to work), and then, wait tonight in the garden, considering how his tomatoes couldn't have been stolen at any other time of day, and try to catch the thief. It was a good fucking plan.

"Why do you keep saying we?"

The voice interrupted his daydream. Confused, Ian looked at Mickey. "You're not gonna help me?"

"Not my problem, man. They're your tomatoes. I'm only here for the murder part, but you backed out of that, so... good luck."

Ian was about to argue, but he thought better of it. Maybe it would be easier to do this alone anyway. Leaning forward, he pressed one last chaste kiss on Mickey's lips, then swiftly got up. "Okay, then. Text me if you need anything. I'm going out."

"Where are you going?" Mickey straightened up for the first time since Ian got there. Ian felt a smile form on his face. His husband was very easy to read.

"Tomatoes, Mick. But, um, not your problem, right?" His voice was teasing and he knew his eyes were glinting with an unspoken challenge. "Don't know if I'll be home tonight. The stakeout might last a while. Guess I'll see you tomorrow. Keep the bed warm for me, would ya'?"

He turned to leave, but Mickey's hurried voice stopped him. "Hey, wait -- hold on a minute."

"Hmm?" So, so easy to read.

Scoffing, Mickey got up. "Let me get changed first. Then, we'll go catch the fucking tomato thief."

The smile Ian gave him was blinding.

----

"Tell me the plan again?"

Mickey was currently observing the expensive as fuck organic fruit in the WholeFoods store, gawking at the prices, but also simultaneously observing his husband as he picked through the best, reddest tomatoes he could find. Between the bitching and the sadness, Ian was all over the place -- it was hard for Mickey to understand why Ian was going so crazy over stolen tomatoes, but the thought of having Ian spend the day doing God-knows what kind of legal and illegal shit made him almost break out in hives. He would rather come along to control the hot mess than "warm the bed" as Ian had so casually put it. Fuck if he was gonna keep anything warm but Ian's dick in his ass.

Ian ignored Mickey's question and shoved a tomato at his face. "Do these look good enough? I want them to look natural, but also really good. What do you think?"

Mickey gave Ian an incredulous look, "Um... those look great... man, just pick whatever the fuck you want. This guy probably isn't very picky if he stole a ripe tomato."

Ian rolled his eyes. "It was a high quality tomato, Mickey." As an afterthought, he added, "Also, it could be a she."

"Maybe it's that fag with the big muscles? Maybe he has a thing for your tomatoes?" Mickey teased, only slightly bothered by the crush the blond guy in apartment 243 had on his tall redhead. It wasn't hard to glance over the sultry looks he gave Ian, or the flirtatious tone. Mickey liked giving Ian endless shit for it, just because of how defensive and uncomfortable Ian got when it was mentioned. It was pretty funny.

"Ugh, God Mickey. Seriously?"

"What? Am I wrong?"

Ian rolled his eyes so hard, Mickey was afraid he'd be shocked by the emptiness he found back there in a moment. Instead, Ian simply grimaced. "That guy really needs to back off. I literally couldn't have flashed the ring in his face more bluntly."

Mickey, using Ian being distracted by the guy, tied the bag Ian had been filling with tomatoes, discreetly moving them away from the spot they'd been standing in the past hour and a half, and towards the cash register.

"If he continues with that shit, I'll just start making out with you in front of him. Should get the point across."

Mickey only hummed in acknowledgment, content with the plan. He hated PDA but Ian made it so natural at times, there was no way he could say no to it.

"Wait, how did we end up here?" Ian glanced around him, only now noticing they were standing in line for the check-out. Mickey shook his head at his husband, who he had to admit was a himbo through and through. "Well, at least we got the tomatoes. The rest is easy."

"What is the plan, anyway?" Mickey repeated the question from before. Now, Ian didn't ignore him. He smirked at Mickey and told him not to worry about it.

"Not to --?" Mickey stuttered. "Ian, your ideas are not top-notch ideas. If I'm gonna try and catch a vegetable thief with you -- which may be the faggest thing I've ever said -- then I need to know the plan."

"Okay, fine." Ian huffed out a breath. "In short, we put these as bait, lure the asshole in, and wait to catch them in the act."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"...that's it?"

"What do you mean?" Ian smiled at the cashier as he took out a ten dollar bill from his pocket, paying for the overpriced vegetables -- or was it fruit? Mickey didn't really give a fuck.

"What do I mean? I mean, this may be the dumbest pan I've ever heard. I mean, sure, the tomatoes are good, but what, you just wanna have a stakeout the entire night? You do know the guy probably won't steal them straight away? We need to give it some time. Work out the suspect list, make sure we know who we're looking for."

Making it out onto the streets of Westside, Mickey was pleasantly greeted by the spring air -- he wouldn't admit it yet, but the Westside was something he was adapting to quite quickly. What used to make him uncomfortable when they first signed the lease changed completely in the past couple of months they'd been living here. It wasn't easy, but as the furniture rolled in, and as the apartment started feeling more like home, the whole "middle-class" life sort of followed. Both Mickey and Ian were still major fucking Southside trash. But now, they were Southside trash that lived in a pretty nice place that didn't have too many murders and attacks per day. That way, when they did happen, it felt nostalgic for Mickey. More special.

"I keep forgetting who you are. Takes a thief to catch a thief, I guess."

"I love how high of an opinion you have of me, Gallagher." Mickey replied teasingly, choosing to take it as a compliment.

Ian smiled, wrapping an arm around Mickey's shoulders, "The highest, baby."

Endeared by the nickname, Mickey blushed slightly. "C'mon man. Let's get back to the apartment. We got a stakeout that needs planning."

Ian nodded, but the arm stayed put the entire way home. Mickey didn't mind one bit.

----

"What about the lady from apartment 193? The one with the weird-ass dog?"

"Ian, she's, like, a hundred years old."

"I don't know, Mick. Seems kinda suspicious."

They were sitting on their newly-bought sofa in the living room, beers in hand, discussing the potential suspect list. Ian had his phone out, writing the names of the possible culprits down, attempting to uncover the thief by the way the crime was executed. It wasn't going that well.

Ian's suspect list was a mile long, all ranging from old women who had complimented his tomatoes months ago, to the weird guy who gave him the stink eye when they first moved in for no apparent reason. "He's out to get me, Mick. I know it." Mickey had told him to shut the fuck up, and presented his own suspect list.

His was a little more realistic, containing names such as Alan who most certainly didn't like the couple -- "maybe the reason for that is the tantrum, Mickey." "shut the fuck up, Ian." -- and the chick whose daughter had a massive crush on Mickey.

"Maybe she thinks I'm some sort of pedo. Not cool, man."

"She would have called the cops, Mickey, not stolen my tomatoes. Also, the whole thing is pretty cute."

Mickey blanched. "She's fifteen! And has a crush on me."

"She's cute, acting all flustered when you casually say "good morning" to her. She probably doesn't even know we're gay."

The girl, Courtney, lived in the apartment a couple doors down from theirs, and her apparent crush on Mickey was beyond adorable to Ian. She was amazed by his thug appearance, and she made it clear in the way she greeted him whenever she passed by the couple, ignoring Ian wholeheartedly. Mickey hadn't even noticed it until Ian pointed it out one night, and when he did, Mickey grimaced and groaned, muttering about how he really didn't need to be the cause of some kid's daydreams.

"Her mother is out to get me. And the way to get me is through you -- everybody knows that."

Ian's chest swelled at the probably insignificant sentence in Mickey's mind. "Aww, Mick. That's really sweet."

"I am sweet."

"It's not the mother. We have to come up with something else."

"Ugh." Mickey groaned. "Why can't we just do this the old-fashioned way?"

Ian simply raised an eyebrow.

"Listen, you already planted the bait when we got back, we have somewhat of a suspect list -- now, we just set up the camera."

"Camera?"

"Yes, Ian. A fucking camera."

"Where the fuck are we gonna get a camera?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. "Carl? He's probably got access to those hidden camera thingies at work, right? We just have him snatch one for us. We'll give it back." He then added as an afterthought, "Maybe."

Ian thought about it for a second and then sighed. "Fine, we'll do it your way."

"Better than crouching in a bush of roses in the middle of the night, Ginger."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Ian agreed, texting Carl simultaneously asking for the 'camera thingy'.

"Also, I'd probably never, under any circumstances, do that shit. Doesn't matter how much I love you."

"Uh-huh." Ian smiled at Mickey, amused.

"I'm serious." He affirmed. "Never. No fucking way."

---

"I can't believe you made me do this shit." Mickey grunted as he crouched behind a rose bush, eyes trained on Ian's vegetable patch.

"Your plan didn't work, so we're doing it my way."

"Well, I didn't really plan for the camera to get fucking broken!"

Their thief was way more skilled than they had initially thought. After they got the camera from Carl, Ian hid it well, making sure it caught the asshole on tape once they attempted to steal his goods again. And when, a couple days later, his store-bought tomatoes were ruined again, this time, squashed deliberately in the garden, he was so happy Mickey had the bright idea to record it.

Until he found the camera squashed along with the tomatoes. It still worked somewhat, and when Ian saw there was a video on it, his hopes had immediately risen, only to be squashed like the poor tomatoes when he saw the video got cut off in the middle of the night, right before the murder had taken place.

"We are gonna do this my way. And then, we'll kill them." He had told his husband.

"Sure, man. The red blood will fit right in with the tomatoes."

"Stakeout."

"No, Ian."

"The sex you'll get if you do this with me will be nothing like you'd ever experienced."

Mickey scoffed, "Sure."

Ian gave him a look full of mischief, and leaned into his ear to whisper his intentions. "Three words, baby: handcuffs, blindfold, tongue. As someone who claims he doesn't like ass-licking, you sure as fuck make some sexy, loud noises when I try it."

And that's how Mickey was there in the garden, at three in the morning with Ian, his dumbass husband, waiting for the thief to appear. Ian had planted another bait, and decided to have a stakeout that night, after loudly flaunting to the other gardeners how good his tomatoes had grown -- "They'll take the bait, Mikhailo, stop giving me that look."

"The ground is really fucking cold, man. Can't believe you convinced me to do this shit. No sex is worth this."

Ian, in response, pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Mickey's neck. "You sure about that?"

"Yeah..." Mickey sighed in content. When Ian tried pulling away, he muttered, "No. Don't stop."

"Eyes on the tomatoes. You'll get your prize later."

Just as Mickey was about to protest, a figure appeared, inching towards Ian's vegetable patch. The couple stilled, eyes squinting, trying to see who the thief was -- who the fuck was it that had so easily crushed Ian's dreams of becoming a gardener, and had forced them to sacrifice their Friday night, crouching in the bushes instead of loudly fucking in their bed.

When the figure stepped even closer, Ian gasped. The culprit's face wasn't even covered and when Mickey saw who it was, he couldn't help it.

He laughed.

He laughed so hard, tears streamed down his face -- he wheezed at the sight they were greeted with. Ian hit his bicep roughly, but it was too late.

The girl had noticed them. She jumped in fear at the noise and her eyes zeroed in on the two men. Her young face paled and her eyes widened in fear.

"You!" Ian accused, jumping up to his feet, not as amused as Mickey was.

The girl jutted out her chin in defiance, not scared one bit. "Yeah. Me."

Ian stared at the fifteen-year-old. He had once considered her cute -- the crush she had on Mickey being nothing more but sickly sweet to him, perfect teasing material. But now, as he realized she was deliberately sabotaging his tomatoes because of, what? Jealousy? Oh, he was pissed.

"Why, Courtney? I've been working hard on those vegetables."

"Fruits." Courtney replied and Ian gaped at her, as Mickey kept on laughing.

"Not the point. Why? Are you jealous or something?"

"Why would I be jealous?" She asked, still acting tough for a girl who had just been caught in the act.

"Then why are you doing this?"

"Because..." She glanced at Mickey who was still on the wet ground, observing the exchange. "Your tomatoes look better than mine, and I was planning on giving Mr. Milkovich my tomatoes but it wasn't gonna work if yours looked better. So, I took yours."

Mickey busted out laughing again. This time tears were actually streaming down his face, clouding his vision. "Mr." Wheeze. "Milkovich." Wheeze.

Courtney looked down, embarrassed. "Maybe I was a little jealous. I just wanted to be noticed."

"Stealing my husband's tomatoes sure got you on my radar, kid." Mickey muttered, still laughing loudly. Perhaps too loudly for three in the morning.

Courtney stilled. "You guys aren't just... roommates?"

Ian shook his head. "No, married."

Her mouth formed an 'oh' shape, and for a moment they stood in silence. Then she laughed, sheepishly. "Well, in that case... I'm sorry?"

Ian was still on the verge of a mental breakdown, but he chose to remain calm. "Just don't do it again, please."

"I won't. I swear." She raised her hands in the air in surrender.

"Go home, kid. It's three in the fucking morning. You're way past hour bedtime." Mickey pitched in from his seat on the soil.

She nodded once again, muttering a quick "sorry", and then ran out of the garden.

Ian turned to Mickey, still shocked. "The root of all of this has been you."

Mickey just smiled. "Not intentionally."

"She wanted to give you her tomatoes. So she ruined mine."

"Your tomatoes are the only ones I care about."

"This better not be a metaphor for my balls."

"Oh, I like those too."

Ian grinned at his husband. "At least we figured out who it was." He put his hand out towards Mickey. Mickey got the hint and grabbed it, pulling himself up.

"Yeah. It was the little girl all along."

Ian snorted, still a little angry.

"How about now, you and I go back to our warm, comfy bed where you can tie me up and fulfill your promise."

"You're not tired?" Ian raised his eyebrow at Mickey.

The smile Mickey gave him was genuine. "For you? Never."

"Maybe I could fulfill my promise. It'd get my mind of off the tomatoes."

"You can always use me as a distraction." Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian's neck and pulled him down, slotting their lips together.

"I'll show you how to handle your tomatoes properly." Mickey teased and Ian all but shoved him  back to the apartment.

The sex that night was fucking amazing. Mickey realized he wouldn't mind playing detective again if this was the reward he got. Suddenly, Ian's wish to plant thise tomatoes was the best thing that could have happened to Mickey in the long run. He wasn't surprised, though.

Ian really knew how to make the most of everything for Mickey. It was probably why he loved him so much.

This was a night Mickey would probably never forget.

[skultrashfics]

A Common Cold

So I lied, I am posting again starting today! XD  I have a cold and always want comfort when I am not well, so I definitely wrote this as a self satisfaction kind of thing >w< 

Pairing: Dead Men x Sick!Reader Word Count: 1,497 Themes: Cold, Being Looked After, SFW, Fluff 

You had bought that box of tissues merely as a precaution. The weather was getting colder and you always were susceptible to catching the first wave of the common cold. Now here you were, a headache throbbing in your temples and the itchiest of sensations tickling your nose. It already felt sore from how many times you had had to blow it and that box of tissues was already practically empty. You groaned as you rolled over in bed, kicking off your blanket as a wave of heat flowed over your body. Hearing your distress, Anton Shudder opened your bedroom door and a frown furrowed his brow, “Are you alright y/n? You’ve been in bed all morning. That’s not like you”. You met his eyes with a soft pout on your face. From the appearance of your scruffy hair and the ever increasing bundle of used tissues he deduced quite quickly that you had fallen ill. A soft sigh left his lips and he nodded, “Right then, I will call for backup”. As quickly as he came Shudder left and you smiled to yourself, you could always rely on your friends to look after you.  

Erskine Ravel peeped his head round the doorframe and was met with your sleeping form, a soft smirk crept onto his face as he gently walked into the room and placed a hot toddy on the bedside table. He sat on the edge of the bed and lightly tapped what he assumed was your shoulder under the blanket, “Sorry to disturb you, but this one is better to drink when it is hot my dear”. A small mumble came from the mound under the covers. Ravel leaned down closer to you, “What was that? I didn’t quite catch it”, he uncovered your face and chuckled running his thumb along your cheek, “Come now… try and sit up”. You squinted at the light as you followed his grasp on your chin and were directed upright. Blinking yourself awake you stretched out leaning your face into his hand further, “Drink? What drink?”. Ravel noted your hazy demeanor and couldn’t help laughing charmingly, “Just beside you on the table”. You lit up as you realised he had made you his famous mystical cold curing hot toddy, just the scent of the whiskey and lemon was helping to clear your sinuses. He moved his hand as you reached over to take the mug and watched you happily inhale the vapours coming from the beverage before taking a sip. It immediately warmed and relaxed your body while simultaneously soothing your throat, “That is amazing… thank you Erskine”. He nodded appreciatively before standing up again, “I will leave you to relax now, get better soon”. With a final flourish and a soft kiss on the cheek Ravel left the room closing the door behind him. 

After watching some Youtube and finishing your drink, you were starting to feel sleepy again but the lack of heat after such a hot beverage was making you shiver. You nestled into your blanket only to half jump out of it again as your door slammed open. “Ah SHIT!”, you heard Saracen stumbling over himself and grappling with the door. Gazing over at him you could see by the rosiness of his cheeks that he had also had a hot toddy, or two. Giggling you shook your head at him, “Saracen Rue, you are disrupting my beauty sleep”. Closing the door behind him Saracen laughed, “Oh please, we both know that neither of us needs ‘beauty sleep’ just look at us!”. He slumped down onto your bed and frowned softly, “You feeling any better?”. You shrugged your shoulders in response, “I’m feeling tired again… but I’m a little cold now…”, you had only just realised that your shoulders were shaking. Saracen noticed too and scooted up beside you, he spread out his arms and lay back, “Then I shall be your personal heater mademoiselle. Please take all the time you need, free of charge”. You laughed at him, but nestled into the crook of his arm anyway, “I have to admit, you are so much more cuddly now”. Saracen raised his eyebrow at this, “I keep getting that a lot lately… But I’m glad I can keep the ladies comfortable”, he added with a chuckle. Saracen readjusted your blanket and made sure you were wrapped up tight. “There we go, is that warmer love?”, he asked looking down at you but alas you had already fallen asleep. 

You woke up a couple of hours later to the sound of Skulduggery lecturing Saracen, “Why do I always find you in someone’s bed, Saracen?”. “Well I guess I am just too lovable for people to resist me. Besides, she said she was cold”. “And your response was to get in bed with her, real mature”. You started laughing and Saracen noticed you jiggling in his arms, “There see? Even y/n thinks you are overreacting”. You yawned and sat up smiling at Skulduggery, “Don’t worry Skul, I’m not pretty enough for Saracen to try anything like that…”.

At this Skulduggery tilted his head, “You’re plenty pretty, even when you are sick. But I needed Saracen to help me with a case and this is where I find him”. As his face did not display his annoyance his tone very directly conveyed it, “Leave the poor girl alone, we need to leave as soon as possible”. With great hesitation Saracen freed you from his bear hug, not before planting a kiss on your head, and made his way out of the room with Skulduggery. “See you soon y/n, hope you feel better”, he called out as he was dragged away by the collar of his shirt. You smiled and waved from your bed and once you were left alone you looked around, “Now what am I going to do with myself?”, you questioned aloud. 

As though he heard your call, Dexter Vex strolled into your room with a bottle of Lucozade and a couple of DVD’s. “Sounds like you might be happy to see me then”, he grinned waving around his gifts. 

A couple of bad movies later you and Dexter were having the best time building a blanket fort in your room. You had so many now that it was almost as though you were collecting the foundations for such a project. “Hey Dexter, could you pass me the pillows now?”, you called out from inside the impressive structure. “Sure thing”, he yelled back before throwing pillow after pillow into the fort. You laughed loudly as he practically buried you in pillows, “Stop stop! What if the fort falls down?”. He laughed more and poked his head through the makeshift door, “Well I've run out of pillows now so I don’t think that will happen”. You cuddled one of the pillows and sighed, “I didn’t realise I had so many”. Dexter joined you in the fort and smiled pulling you into a hug, “Yeah, this one is pretty big too! And heavy”, he groaned rolling over with you in his grasp. You squealed and wriggled in his grip, “I am not that heavy!”. Dexter laughed and blew raspberries onto your cheek, causing you to laugh and squirm about even more, “Eww stooop!”, you cried out in between your giggles. Someone suddenly clearing their throat made you both stop in surprise, you made your way to the entrance of the fort to see Ghastly standing there with a tray. He glanced down at you with a knowing look on his face, “I figured you would be hungry by now so I made some ramen- since I know you don’t like soup that much”. You smiled brightly and nodded, “Thank you that was really thoughtful Ghastly”. He placed the tray on the floor in front of you and you saw two bowls, “Dexter he made some for you too!”. This quickly caught his attention and Dexter made his way to the front of the fort beside you. Ghastly had turned on the fairy lights in your room as it was starting to get a little dark. The ramen looked amazing and you could guess that it smelled just as good. Then your door opened once more and the rest of the Dead Men came in to join you. They each had a bowl of steaming ramen, apart from Skulduggery who only carried a book. You all ate and listened intently as the men recounted the events of their day once they had left you. It was a wonderful way to spend the evening, the warmth of the light, the food and your friends helping you feel better. Everything felt perfect, until Saracen let out a sudden sneeze. Everyone in the room turned to look at him and he met their gazes with a wide eyed stare, “I-I’m fine... don’t worry”. You laughed softly, “Saracen are you su-” he sneezed again loudly and sighed, “Damn it”.

[0kayblue]

Recently Deceased

Summary: You and Beetlejuice have been together for awhile and things are starting to get tense with y'know, the whole being dead thing. 

Word Count: A little over 3k

Notes: Um, it’s an okay read. Fluff and angst.

Character Relations: Beetlejuice x reader (romantic relationship)

A/N: Y’all it’s a Beetlejuice imagine!! I love him and if anything happens to this demon I will not hesitate to fight back. Also!!! It’s my birthday gift to you!! My birthday is the 30th so I thought I’d put something out there for kicks!! Enjoy!!

WARNINGS: DEATH. Death is mentioned heavily throughout the story and if you are sensitive to the thought of you dying please DO NOT READ.

You trudged through the front door as you let out a heavy sigh. With no warm greetings from Beetlejuice you knew he wasn’t home. You carelessly threw your bag on the floor and flopped on the couch. An unbearable headache making itself at home after a long and tiring nine hour shift. You could always call him, but decided against it. He was probably busy or maybe you just gave him the wrong time. Maybe it was for the best he wasn’t here, the lack of noise was for the best. Although it would’ve been nice to have him dote after you while your head pounded.

As you adjusted yourself on the couch you smiled at the thought of Beetlejuice being so warm and domestic, which was the role he’s taken on the past few weeks.He has actually tried cleaning up around the house the past few days, being rather considerate as you worked overtime. They needed the help and you needed the money to keep a roof over yours and Beetlejuice’s heads. His sickly sweet behavior was beginning to become concerning. 

You had all the right to be concerned, he was trying to hide from you in plain sight and it sort of worked. You’ve been so busy lately that trying to keep up with all the responsibilities of life that catching your breath was becoming harder. You knew something was wrong with the bug but never pushed it too hard, but that needed to change. You needed to talk to him and pull the truth from his cold undead hands. 

As your mouth opened to speak his name a sharp pain in your head caused you to wince. Okay, so maybe talking wasn’t the best thing to begin to start doing. The quiet holding only an ounce of comfort as you relaxed into the couch unable to pull your thoughts away from Beetlejuice. 

You remembered talking about your relationship and how things were starting to get a little confusing. As you both reached another milestone in your relationship the undeniable truth pounded at the front door. You were alive and he was a dead demon straight from hell. It was a difference that was proving to be more difficult than you originally thought it would be.

 The Maitlands, and bless their cold still hearts, tried to help. It just made things worse as the night resulted in midnight blue hair and a pool of tears. Their suggestions were just so, normal. You both weren’t normal, at all. You and Beetlejuice were treading on uncharted territory. There wasn’t exactly any counselors you could see or books you could read that would give you advice on what to do with an undead partner. Conjoin finances? Beetlejuice didn’t even have any money let alone a use for it. Marriage? You were quick to say no to that one and it broke Beetlejuice's heart. You didn’t find out until later but you just explained the trouble it would be, not that he wasn’t worth the trouble, it’s just the steps of adjustment it would take for him. No ghostly powers combined with all the adjustment he would have to deal with by becoming human. Becoming a part of the system of the living after following the flows of the Netherworld since he began had to be extremely difficult. The Netherworld and the Land of the Living were polar opposites that only connected through death and that was it. Not to mention the fact that you could die whenever and that would leave Beetlejuice alive and alone. Beetlejuice understood but it still hurt, he wanted to marry you. He wanted it to be an official binding that you were his and he was yours. But your mind was made up, so you suggested the logical thing that could result in getting rid of this living/dead roadblock. You slowly slipped out the idea of you biting the bullet. 

His hair turned ruby red at the mention of it. There was no way in hell he was going to let you end it all just because things were getting tense. You had this life and you were just so willing to throw it away. For him as well? He wouldn’t allow it, he couldn’t allow it. He wanted you to experience life so he selfishly could hear all about it. So he could listen to you talk for hours about how complex living really was. He wanted you to enjoy life, something that he only understood the basics of. He wanted you to soak up all life had to offer before it was ripped away from you. He was furious, how was your death any different than him becoming a warm body? I mean it was very different, but it also had it similarities. You both spent a good hot minute screaming at each other as you argued your points. Your main point being death awaited you regardless. His was that you’d have to learn how the Netherworld worked just how he would have to learn how the Land of the Living worked. It took some work, but you both called a truce. Marriage and death were out of the question. 

That had to be what was bothering him. That was the only thing you could come up with and it was in fact the thing that was bothering him. The seed of doubt had been planted in his head right next to the willow tree of worries. You were so quick to say no to marriage he wondered if you even want to spend eternity with him. That wasn’t the case in the slightest, you positively loved everything about Beetlejuice, but it was hard for him. In truth as the seasons changed he saw you change with them. The changes weren’t anything drastic, you were still the you Beetlejuice fell in love with. Things were just different. You worked yourself to the bone ever since you bought your own house and moved out of the Deetz’s, paying for a house was a lot different than paying rent. With all the hours you spent at work left little time for you and Beetlejuice to partake in activities that didn’t involve you sleeping, thus left Beetlejuice to his own devices. 

It left him stuck in his own thoughts. What if you were growing tired of him. What if you were just dragging him along. He felt like a dead weight and usually when he began to feel that way he would leave. But you were different, you somehow knew exactly what to say. It drove him mad because he’d have a speech prepared. Then after the speech you’d be fed up and he would leave and you could go on with your life and have something normal with someone else. But, the moment you walked through the door, and your eyes locked, and you weakly smiled as the words ‘I love you’ floated out of your mouth, he was trapped. Like a fly to honey he held you close and melted into you like a giant sap. Not like his plan would’ve worked anyway. You’d just call him back until you worked things out because where Beetlejuice was stubborn you were relentless. 

You both were stuck with this feeling of inadequacy. Both of your worlds were so different and it was tugging at both of you. You had to figure out the best course of action to achieve a balance for the both of you. Even if that meant moving back in with the Deets. You sighed, you had to fix this. You couldn’t push it off any longer. This road block was not going to be the end of the only joy you looked forward to at the end of the day. 

As your brain wandered on what to say your stomach started to swirl. You slowly pulled yourself off of the couch the pain in your head becoming more intense. As you stood the room started to spin and the yellow light coming from the ceiling fan started flashing. This overtime was killing you. You took a deep breath and slowly made your way into the kitchen. You opened your eyes slowly as you opened the spice/medicine cabinet. As you grabbed the ibuprofen your leg gave out. You desperately grabbed the cement countertop to hold yourself steady, dropping the ibuprofen but catching yourself as you did so. You let out a sigh of relief. As you went to pull yourself up you were quick to realize that wasn’t happening. So you sunk to the floor and sat there. You closed your eyes and held your head in your hands. Was this even a migraine anymore? Your head felt like it was going to burst and you started to involuntarily cry at the pain.

You need some medicine and a nap and it’s all over. It’d be okay. You sniffed and rubbed your eyes as you tiredly crawled toward the pill bottle. Just grab the pills and crash on the couch, you were okay. 

As you pulled yourself up on the couch you stared at the ceiling fan. The blades rotated slowly but the yellow light emitting from the light bulbs began to become splotchy. Something wasn’t right, this wasn’t right. You needed help, you needed medical attention. Your heart rate began to spike as you quickly glanced to your bag on the floor. You knew your phone was buried under all the things you carried and you couldn’t work up the energy to crawl over towards the bag and dig your phone out of it. You let out a little laugh, you were alone. You were going to die alone. You smiled lightly, thanking whatever higher power that no one had to witness this. In a lot of ways this was the right time for you to die. 

“Beetlejuice.” You called softly. You voice so low that you’d be surprised if you even actually said it. You wanted him here, you wanted him to be the first person you talked too. 

“Beetlejuice.” You said softly again. You couldn’t wait to see him. You couldn’t wait to scare him. It would be a combo of surprising and scaring him. He couldn’t be mad at you either. You didn’t do it yourself, it just sort of happened. Things were working out and maybe you guys could take the next big step without there being any confusion or any hassle. Things could go the way you both wanted. 

Your head stopped spinning but you felt yourself rocking. As if you were on a boat caught in the middle of a storm and you were just entering the eye. 

“Lawrence.” You called as something in your brain popped and relief flooded your body. You felt your whole body relax and then nothing. There was no tunnel or bright light. There was just nothing.

“Hey, babes.” Beetlejuice said weakly as he entered the house through the kitchen door. He threw an empty can of that cheap green halloween hair spray, that he did in fact steal from the general store in town, in the trash and as soon as it landed he snapped his fingers and the whole trash can disappeared. The stuff fooled the Maitlands and it could trick you for a few minutes. 

“I’m sorry I’m late but-.” He stopped suddenly as he saw you still on the couch and he couldn’t help the smirk from finding its way on his face. He wished the overtime wasn’t a thing and if he had things his way you wouldn’t have to work at all. There were easier ways, illegal ways of acquiring funds to support you. I mean you wouldn’t be the one doing any of the stuff Beetlejuice would be behind it all, but you would be taken care of. It honestly was a win/win situation. He’d get all of his demon tendencies out and lushly take care of His breather. Regardless of how tempting it sounded you declined his offer. 

Beetlejuice approached the couch slowly and cautiously. Should he try and scare you awake or should he just gently nudge you awake as he carried you to the bedroom. Decisions, decisions he chuckled as a genuine mischievous green tint returned to his hair. This is going to be the fright of your life. He thought as his feet left the floor. 

As he rose into the air he noticed it. He notice that your chest wasn’t rising and falling. He noticed how still you were. His concentration being broken as he roughly fell to his feet. 

“Babes?” He questioned as his panic set into his features. His hair beginning to be littered with bundles of white and deep blue hues. Beetlejuice was scared, absolutely terrified as he examined your lifeless body lying on the couch. He knew you were dead. He couldn’t mistake a corpse if he tried. But, he clung to the hope that you were still alive. 

“Hey, hey, get up. C’mon you got me. Get up, babes.” He said desperately. “(Y/N), get up!” He shouted as he reached for your arms to shake you awake. As his calloused hands met the smooth cold skin of your arms he could see it. He watched you die, he saw you struggle to get to the medicine, he watched you fall, how you weakly climbed back into the couch, he heard you call his name three times. 

He let out a deep gasp as he was quickly reunited back within himself. Tears were quick to stream down his face. Beetlejuice couldn’t exactly comprehend why he was sobbing. Why his tears weren’t joyful ones filled with hope and promise of your future without the alive and dead roadblock. But instead his tears were filled with rage and incomprehensible sadness.  You were supposed to be living a full life, you were supposed to grow old, and he was supposed to be with you for as long as you allowed. Beetlejuice’s hair started to change from a deep blue to a flaming red. 

He was furious as he squeezed your body tighter and held you closer. He carefully laid your lifeless body back on the couch and tried his best to cool down as he delicately rested your head on one of the many throw pillows you had. 

“I’m sorry.” Beetlejuice choked out. He couldn’t help but feel as if this was his fault. 

You didn’t think it took so long for the soul to leave the body. You poked your head out from around the closet door. You examined Beetlejuice’s hunched over deminor and any thought you had of scaring him flew out of the window. 

“Beej, honey.” You said as you quickly left the coat closet. You saw him jump and a light giggle left your lips. 

“I got you.” You said as your guy’s eyes locked as he stood up. He was still crying as you just shook your head and walked through the couch and into his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a tight and loving embrace. 

“I got you.” You repeated as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and buried his face into the crook of your neck. A laugh escaping his lips as his hair returning to a bright and luscious green. 

“I love you.” He said through muffled sobs. You intertwined your fingers with his hair, some of it still stiff from the hairspray, as you cooed into his ear. You had no idea what was going on. You had no idea why he was so upset. Wasn’t this perfect? 

“Beej, what’s wrong? You’ve been acting differently lately. Talk to me.” You pulled away from him and you carefully cradled his face in your hand. He looked so sad. Beetlejuice’s free hand held yours softly against his face as his free arm held you close to him. He let out a heavy sigh and sucked it up as tints of deep purple danced through his hair. 

“I don’t want to lose you and now that your dead I don’t want you to think you have to stay. I’d dragged you down when you were alive and now your dead. I don’t even remember a time in the past few weeks that you felt motivated to do much of anything. I feel like I’m sort of the blame for that because I can’t really do much of anything to help with the whole living thing. Y’know keeping the roof above our heads and all that other bullshit. You didn’t even get to really enjoy- wait.Why are you smiling? Stop smiling.” 

“You emotional bug.” You said as you brought your face to his in a soft kiss. 

“You weren’t going to lose me when I was alive and you aren’t going to lose me now that I’m dead. Yes, things were difficult but none of it was ever your fault. You never tied me to anything, well except the bed.” There you go, saying the right things at the right times. Beetlejuice snickered as you placed a kiss on his neck. 

“But that’s it. None of this is your fault, it was just my time. And honestly it couldn’t have come at a better time, love bug.” You looked up at him with hope and for the first time in the past few weeks Beetlejuice saw that bright gleam in your eyes. He rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue at the nickname. 

“You’ve gotta stop with the pet names, sugar.” His tears had dried and he calmed down enough to where his hair returned to a bright green. A couple strands of light pink spotting in his hair, but that didn’t need to be addressed. 

“Over my dead body, Beej.” You smirked as you rested your head on his chest. 

“We are over your dead body, babes.” You both laughed as he kissed your head. The doorbell rang and your head popped up. A wicked grin plastered on Beetlejuice’s face as he looked at you for approval. You just smirked, you might as well christen your death with a big scare. 

“I’ll creek the door open, but don’t scare them to bad. The dead body is going to be enough to scar them.” You said as you began to head towards the door but Beetlejuice grabbed your wrist pulling you back into his embrace. 

His face beamed with joy. The pink in his hair becoming more noticeable. Everything was okay and everything was going to be okay. He pecked a quick kiss on your lips before you pushed him away from you. 

“You are one lucky bastard.” You said as you headed towards the door. The Netherworld was in for quite a surprise after your death celebrations. Then the wedding after that, well after Beetlejuice asked.

[agwitow]

What is - in the most-commonly accepted sort of a way, hands down, spoken of in hushed tones - the most objectively awful thing that ever happened in that world? If anything. Could be minor! Might not be. Some cataclysmic or malodrous event that stuck in the minds of a generation?

Oooh, in hushed tones, huh? That certainly does give it a certain flavour of awful event, doesn’t it? lol

I’m going to say the coup against the Beryladian Imperial Family. While the coup/civil war itself isn’t whispered-behind-closed-doors worthy, what was done to the royals is.

(I’m putting a read-more partly because it’s long, and partly because it’s kinda brutal and involves the murder of children)

So, hundreds of years ago, several of the territories that made up the Beryladian Empire wanted independence. Nobles, merchants, and commoners alike schemed together to find a way to throw off the chains of the Empire. For a long time it was just talk. At least, until a close advisor to the Imperial Family joined the conspirators.

She had been the long-time lover of both the Emperor and Empress, but she was manipulative and power-hungry. Eventually they could ignore her maneuverings at court no more. They broke off the relationship and sent her on a “diplomatic mission” to one of the newer additions to the Empire. This was a clear sign to the court at large that she’d fallen out of favour with the Emperor and Empress.

While on her “mission,” she discovered the rumblings of dissent among the people. At first, she thought it was nothing more than just disgruntled grumbling. But she wasn’t the type to just move along, so she began digging. Eventually she uncovered the network of rebels across several territories.

She had a choice.

She could revel the rebels and, perhaps, even plant evidence that some of her rivals at court were involved with them. Use it to try and win her place back. Or, she could work with the rebels.

She chose to become the rebels’ spy at the Imperial Court.

With her information, they were able to actually take action. They could strike at important shipments, locations, and people when they were most vulnerable. They could avoid the soldiers hunting them.

The more successes they claimed, the more people joined their cause.

But the Imperial Family was generally well-liked - they funded a lot of public works that benefited the common folk - and the rebels and army came to a sort of stalemate after several months.

The turn-coat advisor knew that if something drastic didn’t change soon, then the rebellion could very well fade.

So she invited the entire court to her sea-side palace to “celebrate the Imperial Military’s recent victories.” As most such festivities in the Empire, it was planned to last several days.

On the second night, she had her personal guard discreetly lock all the doors to the ballroom. Then she waited.

When the first person fell, people laughed at the poor courtier who couldn’t hold their wine. Then another fell. And another. And another. Panic began to spread. Was it an illness? A magical assault?

Courtiers tried to flee, only to discover they were locked in. And every moment, more of them fell, victims to a deadly poison in the wine.

The Emperor and Empress watched in horror as their court collapsed around them. They called for their guards, but the only ones not killed by the traitorous advisor’s guards had been bought off.

When they, the advisor, and the guards were the only ones left, she had her guards drag the Emperor and Empress’s children into the room. Then, one-by-one, she carved the children up before finally slitting their throats. All the while, the Emperor and Empress were forced to watch. And each time they cried out, something of theirs was broken. Fingers, arms, legs, jaws.

When the last child was dead and the Emperor and Empress were so broken they would have eventually died of their injuries, the advisor killed them too.

The next day she announced the death of the Emperor and Empress and proclaimed herself the new Empress of the Empire.

At first it seemed she might have succeeded, but the guards who’d been at the sea-side palace whispered of her viciousness. The whispers spread. The people revolted. The rebels disavowed all association with her. The Imperial Military split into those loyal to her, and those loyal to the former Emperor and Empress.

For several years, the entire Empire descended into chaos.

Eventually, the Empire was broken apart. The United Territories of Afrye formed from the original instigators. Beryladia was reduced to a country like any other, and the rest of the continent reverted to independent countries.

No one knows what happened to the advisor - some say she was killed, others that she ran away once she realized the people would never accept her. But everyone whispered of the atrocities she’d committed. Saying her name became a taboo. Being a ‘faithless advisor with bloody hands’ became the worst of insults.

(Also, even from the start of her claiming the Empire, there were whispers that not all of the Imperial Children were killed. Some claimed one of the girls had been sick and did not go with the rest to the palace. Others were adamant the entire family had gone. It became an almost Anastasia-type legend - in truth, one of the guards knew the children would be killed and hid the youngest before the other guards went to drag them down to their deaths. Given that there were twelve in total, it’s a bit understandable why the advisor didn’t realize one was missing until later. And by then, the guard had fetched the two-year-old and disappeared)

So...um... very much not a happy story, but hope you enjoyed?

[kreactionsentertainment]

Exo Reaction ~ You Saving Them Pt. 2

Admin Eva: As stated in Part 1, I do not take credit for writing this reaction. A very good friend of mine helped me in a huge way by writing this reaction. I also want to state that this blog does NOT own any of the gifs used unless stated otherwise. Once again this reaction does have a part for Jongdae, however as stated before this is the last romantically inclined reaction that will be on this blog. I will still write sibling requests or just general exo requests, but none will have Jongdae and a romantic interest. Thank you so much for your patience and understanding~! 

Jongdae

Jongdae was intensely focusing on his battle with Chanyeol, if anyone was winning, it was him and not that stupid flamehead. He charged up several lightning bolts and threw them at Chanyeol like spears while he tried dodging all the fireballs being thrown his way. The two hit each other and caused a big explosion, throwing both men miles apart. You sensed something was wrong and immediately went to Jongdae's location. When you saw him, he was lying motionless on the ground, bleeding profusely from what looked like deep cuts and ash? Being a healer, you focused all your energy on sealing up his wounds and helping his body repair itself. You sat back and looked at Jongdae disappointedly after you finished healing him. 

“I know your awake Jongdae.” The said man opened one eye to glance at you before closing it straight away, hoping you didn’t catch that. “You know, I keep telling you that it's not smart to battle Chanyeol when you and him have destructive powers. Now I’m going to have to report to Suho and ah ah don’t say anything, you brought this upon yourself Kim Jongdae.” Despite his whining, he knew what he did was dangerous… he just didn’t want to have to listen to both you and Suho lecturing him at the same time, but for sure he was dragging Chanyeol with him whether he got caught or not.

Chanyeol

As the lightning spears barely scraped by Chanyeol, he added more heat to his flames, causing the fireballs he threw to be a blue color. He wasn’t looking when his flame hit Jongdae’s spear and blew up, sending him into the air along with Jongdae before they both smacked into the ground. Chanyeol called out to you because you would be able to hear his voice no matter how quiet or far away you were. Your body appears as if the wind carried each particle and built you back in front of Chanyeol. You rush down to his body and start inspecting all the burns. With a quick sorry, you pushed your powers into Chanyeol as he bit down on a piece of cloth. 

The winds felt like it was cutting up his body internally, but your powers of wind were fueling his powers of fire, causing his body to regenerate quicker. Like magic, the existing burns from Jongdaes thunder looked like they were being erased in front of your eyes. With one last force, you fell on him and laid there to rest. Chanyeol could hear Jongdae’s girlfriend nagging him about being reckless and here he was just hoping you’d forget this after you wake up so he wouldn’t have to listen to your lecture about “being safe” and “taking precaution”. With a little kiss on the nose, he smiled softly. “Don’t think you're getting away with this, I’m just too tired right now, but you already know Suho’s hearing about this.” And just like that, his smile was gone and he was back to worrying how he’d deal with you and Suho for the nth time.

 Kyungsoo

“Find him! Don’t let him get away!” Kyungsoo had been on the run ever since he stole that guy's wallet, and boy did he regret it. The polished black leather wallet had looked too expensive but expensive was good, expensive meant money and that meant he could eat for the week, a month maybe if he was extremely lucky. Turn out the amount of cash in this wallet would be enough to feed him a whole year, that’s discarding all the cards because a smart person would just suspend it or track him down. Speaking of, he was currently being tracked down right now, but instead of the police sirens, he was hearing gunshots and yelling.

Kyungsoo ran and ran until he couldn’t anymore. He had once prided in his ability to run fast, a thief who couldn't was a dead thief anyways. Today proved him wrong, that the people he outran before were normal people, those who were easy to escape from. Today he was being chased by those who seemed serious in getting this wallet back. He found a hole that looked his size and crawled in. He didn’t expect to see someone already sitting in this small space. The girl in front of him starred unblinkingly as she ate what looked like a small piece of stale bread. “Hi!” You exclaimed at the owlish boy. Kyungsoo backed away in fright only to hit the metal scraps that served as a wall to your home. “Oh.. sorry, umm..” You took in his appearance and grabbed the wallet once you saw it. Opening it up, you saw a familiar face, not that you personally knew the guy, just that he was well known around these streets. “Oh boy! Did you steal this from Mr. Mouse? That's a bad idea you know! He goes bang bang when he’s upset..” Kyungsoo snatched the wallet back from you as he squinted at your speech. “I think that bread you're eating is causing you to go crazy.” He took the piece of bread from you, only to realize it was a dried piece of chicken. He suddenly dropped it out of shock while you scrambled to pick it up again. “That's my dinner! How rude!! No wonder you’ll go bang bang in 13 minutes! 15 if you’re lucky!!”

Kyungsoo was too busy wondering how a piece of chicken could be as dry and crusted like stale bread. He even wondered if it was safe to consume, “wait, 13 minutes? 15? How do you know?” The numbers seemed too accurate unless she was truly crazy... “Mr. Mouse has a clock! 30 minutes or bang! The lizard finishes in 10 minutes but he’s away today. The next fastest is the little deer! He doesn’t like to be called that though~” You giggled at the thought of a mad deer. “And.. the deer finishes in 10 to 15 minutes?…” He wasn’t sure what you meant by Mr. Mouse, the lizard and or the deer, but he assumed they were code names made by your loopy mind. “Bingo!~ Hehe~” You tried taking another bite of the chicken when it was suddenly taken away again. “Hey!!”, “Show me the way out of this city and I’ll buy you better food.”

Kyungsoo soon found out that you were incredibly smart, just that your mind stored information in a very simple way. After he safely got away, he offered you to come with him with the promise of better food and living conditions. You guys would still be on the streets sometimes but it was never as bad as that metal shelter, especially now that you had someone to keep you company, one that didn’t think you were completely insane.

Zitao

Gunshots were being heard throughout the building and Tao didn’t know where to go. He just kept running until you pulled his arm and dragged him in the opposite direction. “Are you crazy? The exits this way!” You whispered as loudly as you could afford to. Working in a bank was definitely boring for you, but that didn’t mean you wanted robbers coming into ‘spice’ up your day. You guess this guy was new as he didn’t have the exit routes memorized yet nor did he seem to understand that you don’t run towards the sound of gunshots. Opening the exit doors to the stairs, you warned him to follow you as quickly and quietly as he could. For some reason, Tao managed to stay pretty quiet, with the occasional scream, but he remembered right after and covered his own mouth to prevent the robbers from finding them.

After what felt like too long, both of you got out and together you ran to the nearest cafe before calling the cops to let them know the updated situation. “Th-thanks” You had forgotten about the guy for a brief moment but waved that it was no big deal. He hadn’t gotten you more in danger and it just seemed right, rather than letting him run around the building like a headless chicken. “Let me buy you a coffee!” Tao quickly went to the counter and order two things he felt would taste good. He tried to calm his racing heart down but he wasn’t sure if it was due to the adrenaline or if it was because of you. That day on, Tao would always stick close to you when he can and you soon found out this guy had a lot of fears. But it was cute, that and afterwards he always bought you something to eat or drink when he got scared.. and when he simply wanted to.

Jongin

You jumped into the ocean after waiting what felt like forever for Jongin to pop up. You guys had gone cliff diving with friends and while you all had done it numerous times, you felt uneasy when Jongin wasn’t surfacing. The others assured you, he was probably just playing a joke, but you thought differently. Jongin wouldn’t scare you like this, this was too long to be a simple joke, so here you were swimming in the warm ocean trying to find your boyfriend. You rose multiple times to take a deep breath before swimming down again. Your friends saw how panicked you looked and jumped down to help you search for Jongin too.

He had jumped down into the warm water and man did it feel great. His friends had already known he would pull a prank at one point. So when he entered the water for the fifth time that hour, he held his breath for as long as he could. A few minutes passed by and he was starting to feel uncomfortable. As he tried to swim back up, he realized his foot was caught in some plastic netting and other plants that floated in the ocean. Jongin did his best to unraveled the webbing around his foot but he was starting to desperately need air. His body started to panic and he wasn’t thinking straight anymore.

You had finally found him and called your friends to come help. Everyone took a deep breath and swam down to where Jongin was. You carefully cut away the plastic and saw that it was stuck to heavy rocks, no wonder he wasn’t able to getaway. Once Jongin was free, the guys swam back up as you and the girls followed along, making sure there was nothing to get caught on around them. Back on land, you immediately performed CPR and prayed that Jongin was okay. A few seconds later he was bending over to cough up the water in his lungs. His chest and sinus stung like crazy as he was gasping for the much need air. Jongin pulled you into a tight hug once he felt a little better. He told you how thankful he was over and over, promising to never pull a prank like that again.

Sehun

Sehun had his breath knocked out of him as you tackled him to the ground. “Idiot!” You yelled at him as bullets continued to fire his way. He hadn’t realized he was getting shot at, as he was too focused on watching your back. The two of you had been partnered up together on a few missions years ago. Soon after, you both started to go on every single assignment with each other. Little did you know, Sehun had been requesting to work with you, and you did the same for him. How embarrassing it was when your boss yelled out “Finally!!” at a work party. Only then did you guys find out how silly your actions seemed when it would’ve been easier to say it face to face.

Sehun focused his attention on you to find any scratches and luckily there weren’t any. He kissed you deeply, too caught in the moment of feeling how grateful he was that you were okay. You immediately pushed him down in panic, what was he thinking? You both were in an active shooting zone and here he was kissing you? He let out a soft groan as his back hit the concrete floor, maybe he should show you how much he appreciates you once you both were safe at home.

He gave you another peck on the forehead and told you to be safe before he headed off in a new direction. Although he was always extremely grateful to have someone like you watching his back, he needed to remember that they still had a dangerous job to do. Often times you would save his life and he would save yours. Despite that, there was never a moment that either of you took it for granted, as your life was too precious to him and you cherished him.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

More Time - Chpt.3

Summary: Steve & Bucky learn to navigate Steve’s new normal. Master list is HERE.

Warnings/ Content: Just some fluff this chapter.

Word Count: 1.4k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Thank you all for the great reactions to the last chapter both here and over on AO3. Your comments give me life ya’ll, seriously. Also, posting schedule will definitely be daily now because I’ve discovered the joy that is saving drafts ahead of time. Woo! XOXO - Ash

Chapter Three

They say it takes losing something to realize how much you appreciate it. Steve thought that particular phrase was entirely too apt in his experience. 

Steve had struggled in 1942 to adapt to his body post- Project Rebirth, and now being thrown back into his smaller body was just as big of an adjustment for him. He’d lived out two lifetimes with only 25 years in his smaller form at the very beginning; making it more foreign than familiar at that point. Steve hadn’t forgotten the myriad of ailments that plagued his early years, but he hadn’t had to deal with them in so long that the memories of actually having to live with them had faded. 

Bruce had let Bucky take Steve home the day after the failed procedure with a promise to come back for more testing the following day. The subsequent weeks were spent resting at home and round after round of testing, as well as trying to help alleviate or treat Steve’s various ailments. Things weren’t as bad as they had been back when Steve had lived in this body before, but it was still pretty inconvenient. There were glasses to help correct his vision, a discreet hearing aid for his bad ear, and medications for his high blood pressure, asthma, and arthritis. Steve’s days were ruled by doctor’s appointments and the persistent buzz of his smartwatch reminding him to take one of his many medications. He was reluctant to throw therapy sessions into the mix but at Sam and Bucky’s pushing he started seeing a therapist regularly too. 

Bucky decided to take an indefinite leave of absence from his work with the Avengers and the newly re-formed SHIELD, wanting to help Steve readjust to life in his smaller form. He hadn’t been taking many missions before that either, trying to soak up as much time with Steve as he could since he’d come back aged. Bucky missed the fulfillment that came from a mission accomplished but that feeling was eclipsed by his love for Steve. He knew that things wouldn’t be as bad as they were growing up, they had money and modern medicine now, but he also knew Steve and how difficult this would be on him. Sam assured them both that things were going well at work and they didn’t need to worry about a thing. 

Bucky looked forward to Sam’s visits, as infrequent as they were. Steve had been so nervous the first time Sam had seen him after. He knew Sam was his friend regardless of what he looked like but it was still embarrassing to be a full head shorter and over a hundred pounds lighter than his friend when they had been of similar size before. “Who can run laps around who now?” Sam joked before hugging Steve tightly, thankful his friend was okay after everything. Until Steve took advantage of his bony elbows and their proximity to Sam’s ribs, and Sam learned that Steve’s temper hadn’t diminished along with the rest of him. 

Their days fell into an easy rhythm and both men found ways to pass the time so that they didn’t go stir crazy while they adjusted to Steve’s new normal. Steve returned to his art with a passion so fierce it surprised Bucky. He’d woken up one morning to find papers littered all around the spare bedroom, sketches of people and places from their past and some from more recent years as well. Steve was sitting on the hardwood floor in the midst of the mess, hunched over sketching a Brooklyn skyline when Bucky had interrupted him. They’d gone out later that day and bought him a proper desk and easel as well as all the art supplies he’d ever wanted. The spare bedroom was easily converted into a studio for Steve and it was nice to finally make good use of the extra living space. Steve was overwhelmed with the possibilities open to his art when he wasn’t limited to what little supplies they could afford back in the ‘30s. He had charcoal pencils, water colors, oil paints, and color pencils too. They got him canvases in all sizes and a myriad of sketch books. Steve poured all of his bottled up emotions into his art and his therapist was impressed with his progress since he’d started drawing and painting again. 

Bucky loved watching Steve flourish after several tense weeks of an adjustment period. He had meant it when he’d told Steve he loved him no matter what happened, even though this outcome was not even on the horizon of possibility at the time. Having Steve back in the body he’d originally fallen in love with him in was both wonderful and conflicting for Bucky. Guilt ate at him in the quiet moments before sleep each night, something his therapist was working with him on consistently. He loved the way Steve fit under his shoulder again, the beauty of his pale skin and fine bones, but it felt like a betrayal of Steve to appreciate the very thing that caused Steve so much pain. So he devoted himself to making Steve’s life easier any way he could. Bucky would keep his joy at having a lifetime with Steve silently restrained and spend the time they now had making each moment count. 

Steve was not stupid and he caught the little looks Bucky gave when he thought Steve wasn’t looking. He couldn’t quite figure out what to make of the elated and sometimes reverent glances but after enough of them he pieced together that Bucky was happy with him and trying to shield him from it. It took a little bit longer to figure out why. 

It was almost two months since Steve had woken up on Bruce’s lab table when the first truly cool week of autumn hit. Steve had settled down with his laptop to order some warmer clothes online while Bucky sat on the opposite side of their sofa watching yet another episode of “Wonders of the Solar System” on the Science Channel. Steve would occasionally show Bucky a shirt or pair of pants to ask for his opinion since, as Nat used to remind him often, he had no sense of style. Bucky would weigh in on Steve’s current selection and then return to his show, but Steve noticed the small grin on Bucky’s face when he thought Steve had looked away. After a few times Steve set aside the laptop, ready to finally have the conversation he’d been preparing in his head for over a week. 

“It’s okay that you’re happy.” Steve told him bluntly, “You know that, right?”

Bucky paused the show and turned so that he was facing Steve, unsure where the conversation was going. “What do you mean?” He asked hesitantly. 

“I see the little glances you shoot when you think I’m not looking. You’re allowed to be happy I’m back in this body again.” 

Bucky’s cheeks burned brightly, “I’m sorry, Stevie. I know how hard this is on you and I’m so damn selfish for being this happy. I’m so sorry.” 

Steve crawled on his knees across the middle sofa seat and settled himself down on Bucky’s lap. He let himself be wrapped up in Bucky’s strong arms, the way they used to sit in the dead of winter when they couldn’t afford to turn on the heat. The familiarity was comforting to them both. “It’s okay.” He told Bucky, “You’re allowed to be happy about this. Sure it kinda sucks to deal with health issues again, but it’s miles better than it was back in the day. And I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t miss the super soldier body but it gives me a lifetime with you that I missed out on the last two times around. I love you, Buck, and I want you to be happy.” 

Bucky planted a soft kiss on the top of Steve’s head, inhaling deeply the clean scent of shampoo and the crisp undercurrent that was undeniably Steve. “I love you. I want you to be happy too though.”

“I am, you doofus. Every single day I get to wake up next to you I am the happiest I’ve ever been. We’re so lucky to be alive and together right now, how could I not be.” 

“You’re the doofus.” Bucky chuckled and hugged Steve tighter. 

Steve stayed quiet, satisfied to let the conversation go for now at least. He could finish shopping later, a little quiet time with his best guy would always come first.

Tag list lovelies: @godofplumsandthunder​ @remilupin22​ @supraveng​ @hiddles-rose​ 

[kenkamishiro]

Ishida’s Q&A comments from YJ compilation, Part 9

Ishida’s comments from 2017! Only one more part left to go which will cover the 30-something questions from 2018.

For anyone who doesn’t know about the relevant Questions to Ishida contest, please read here. You can start from Part 1 here.

The recent set of zakki:re and interview translations take a lot of time and effort, so if you enjoyed it please reblog or leave a like. Thank you!

2017

No. 1

Sensei, if you had to pick a character from a manga/anime/novel to become the president, who would it be?

Mozgus-sama.

Just stop.

[T/N: One of the antagonists of Berserk...]

No. 2

The winners of the New Word/Buzzword awards have been announced for 2016, but in your opinion what new word or buzzword should have won for this year?

「～てわけだし」。

I wonder why.

[T/N: The phrase 「～てわけだし」is difficult to translate on its own since it’s more of an implied feeling, but basically it’s used when you’re stating a conclusion based on reasons that were given in the conversation.]

No. 3-4

It’s that time of year when hot pot is at its most deliciousness! What is your favourite kind of hot pot or hot pot ingredient?

Motsunabe.

Wasn’t there a question just like this before?

[T/N: Yes, yes it was. (In 2013, Issue no. 49.)]

No. 5-6

2016 was also a year where all kinds of events shook the world. Now then Sensei, please tell us about your biggest event of this year!

That I got the opportunity to meet Togashi Yoshihiro-sensei.

It was amazing...

No. 7

The first issue of Young Jump for 2017!! Sensei, what words do you want to write for your wishes for the New Year?

To be on time.

Do your best.

No. 8

Sensei, please tell us what you want to challenge yourself to do this year!

To become an apprentice.

That’s a good one.

No. 9

January 26 is Mobile Apps Day! Please share with us your favourite app or an app that you feel has been useful recently!

Voice recorder.

Apps with shogi problems. It’s perfect for when I have free time.

No. 10

February 2 is Pigtails Day! Please share with us a hairstyle of the opposite sex that makes you feel things!

Short cuts.

Indeed.

No. 11

February 9 is Manga Day! What was the first manga that you read or bought?

I forget what my first one was, but my most recent was volume 45 of Kingdom.

It was probably something like Crayon Shin-chan I think? Most likely...

No. 12

Sensei, please tell us about a sports match that has moved or excited you to this day?

Rocky vs. Mason Dixon.

I haven’t really seen much, huh.

No. 13

Sensei, what item makes you feel “I haven’t seen this lately/it’s gone now, what a shame?”

That crunchy salad thing from Family Mart, the Mexican something-or-other.

I’ll say it again.

No. 14

This may seem out of the blue, but please tell us about a memory that’s related to your birthday!

Thank you for last year.

I received a lot.

No. 15

Sensei, please share with us what you usually eat or do for your health!

Nuts.

I’ve been running recently. Last month I clocked in 100 km.

No. 16

Sensei, please share with us a time where you felt full of energy or gained courage to this day!

I was so scared of Biohazard in VR that I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body.

I haven’t been playing any VR games recently.

No. 17

Sensei, please tell us about a local rule that surprised you, or any unusual rule that was considered as normal in your local area!

Libatape.

It’s a bandage.

No. 18

Sensei, please share with us what you’re secretly obsessed about!

88Kasyo Junrei and Ziyoou-vachi.

Ohh.

No. 19

Sensei, please tell us what you’d like to eat right now!

Corned beef.

I wonder if I was craving junk food at the time.

No. 20

Sensei, please tell us about a moment where you felt like spring was coming!

I don’t really feel it. Though it does feel like summer.

What’s with that force.

No. 21

If you could send a letter to a person again, who would that person be and what would you like to tell them?

A friend from a long time ago, since I moved around a lot.

I’d tell the friend that I’ve become a mangaka.

No. 22-23

We’re at the cusp of Golden Week! Sensei, please share with us where you’d like to go, or something you’d like to do!

Read.

Just get out of the house already.

No. 24

Sensei, please share with us a technique you thought was amazing or moved you!

I saw it recently, but Terada Katsuya’s live paintings.

Man it was amazing.

No. 25

If you could choose any one special ability or superpower, what ability would you want to use?

The ability to fix my back.

The ability to be motivated at any time.

No. 26

Sensei, what book do you want to read the most/want to know the contents of right now?

I want to read all kinds of books.

I’m currently interested in Russia/Soviet relations.

No. 27

Sensei, please tell us about the scariest story you’ve heard or experienced in your life!

Missiles.

When I was drawing the manuscript for the final chapter that everyone associated with it was waiting for. My heart was pounding like crazy.

No. 28

Sensei, please tell us about something you’re particular about in your home/room, or something you’d like to be particular about if you moved!

Delivery boxes.

Where there are delivery boxes, no bugs crawl out...

No. 29

Sensei, please tell us about a movie or drama that you thought was interesting/would be interesting!

“Documental” was interesting.

“One Cut of the Dead” was interesting too.

No. 30

If you could know just one thing from the future, what would it be?

I wouldn’t want to know anything.

Whether manga still exists or not.

No. 31

Sensei, please tell us what your favourite appetizer is!

Nuts.

Raisin butter.

No. 32

Sensei, please share with us a day that only you celebrate, or a day that is special only to you!

Since the day my series first began is in September, I consider that to be a day for celebration.

I’m sure I’ll forget it.

No. 33

When you think of summer, you think of festivals! What comes to mind when you hear the world “festival”?

Live performances.

Fireworks, food stalls.

No. 34

How would you describe your personality in a single word?

Uncoordinated (To everyone involved, I apologize for causing trouble last week).

What happened...

No. 35

Sensei, please share with us a dinner meal that gets you excited the most!

I don’t get excited over meals.

I do now!

No. 36-37

Sensei, please tell us what you’re glad to have done as a child!

Play Dragon Quest.

Study. Not for the contents necessarily, but more so cultivating my ability to concentrate. Well, that and Dragon Quest too.

No. 38

Sensei, please share with us the first thing you do when you wake up in the morning!

Sleep.

Huh?

No. 39

Please share with us something about Japanese traditional culture or events that you like!

Sweet mochi cakes.

I think it’s wonderful that we have events for each season. Though I don’t take part in them.

No. 40

August 31 is Vegetable Day! Sensei, please share with us what vegetables you like!

Orange paprika.

Celery, paprika, tomatoes.

No. 41

If there was a moment in your life where you thought, “I’m saved!”, please tell us!

I did have one.

I’ve only ever been helped.

No. 42

It’s September but the blazing hot days aren’t over just yet! Sensei, please share with us your steps to combat the summer heat!

Pray.

You didn’t even do anything for the heat did you.

No. 43

Sensei, please share with us something that you thought you wanted to throw away, or wanted to throw away but couldn’t!

My chair.

Stuff like packages or stuffed toys that the staff left behind.

No. 44

Sensei, please tell us about a moment in your everyday life where you get a bit excited/feel a bit of small joy!

When I manage to wake up early.

I know the feel.

No. 45

Please tell us who you thought was the most beautiful woman you’ve seen in your life (can be a real person, or a character from a manga/drama/novel)!

Andrea Pezick.

It’s hard to say who the most beautiful is.

No. 46

October 13 is Moving Day! If you were to move, what town would you want to live in (can be real or fictional)?

Kansai.

Kanto or America or Taiwan.

No. 47

Sensei, please tell us about a moment in your life where you noticed a discrepancy and realized it was different from what you expected!

Turkish rice.

Robot Restaurant.

[T/N: Ishida went to Robot Restaurant last fall with some friends.]

No. 48

Sensei, if there’s a character that you want to make a guest appearance in your own work, please tell us (even real people are acceptable!)

Me.

Don’t need me there.

No. 49

Sensei, please share with us what you do when you can’t fall asleep at night!

I fall asleep right away, so please tell me what to do instead.

Please rest assured that my sleep schedule returned to normal after TG ended.

No. 50

Sensei, if you’ve had a moment where you wanted to keep experiencing the same thing in your memories, please tell us!

I want to erase my memories and play Bloodborne again.

I don’t want to repeat it again.

No. 51

It’s harvesting season! Sensei, please share with us what you thought the best harvest of the year was, or something that was significant to you for this year!

Live performances.

Recently I’ve been doing stuff like practicing drawing and studying. I’m not sure if you’d call it harvesting or planting seeds though.

No. 52

It seems November 22 is Carpenter Day. Sensei, if you have a memory of the house you’ve lived in to this day, please tell us!

Centipedes showed up a lot in my dormitory.

Whenever they got inside the soap box they would cluster together.

No. 53

This is the final issue of 2017! Sensei, please share with us what you want to eat as your last dinner of 2017!

I’d be fine with soba.

That way of speaking is an affront to soba.

previous || next (coming soon!)

[wordswithkittywitch]

Donner, Blizten, and Pooka

The traditional host for Billy and Zoë, DeviantArt, is being recalcitrant, so I’m posting it directly to my tumblr this year. If AO3 had a spot for original work, I’d use that just because I love how straightforward their system is. I should look for a better platform, I guess. But for now, this year’s is hosted on tumblr. (I don’t know why I never say Zoë and Billy. I guess it’s just that I’ve been saying their names in alphabetical order since 2002, and I’m not likely to start now.) This is actually an idea I've had since the first year I starting writing these, and I'm so glad I've finally done something with it.

This year’s story has a few instances of gruesome imagery, but no major triggers behind the obvious “character death”, as you know at least one character, be it recurring or otherwise, is going to be a dead one.

With no further ado, enjoy 2019′s addition to the Billy and Zoë universe.

(4940 words, 9 pages, several horror elements. Because it’s a freaken horror story.) Recomended audio accompaniment.

           Donner, Blitzen and Pooka

No, this isn’t the same story as last year, just the same exposition

          Billy and Zoë were always said to be good kids, not getting in fights, making the sports teams, honor roll, debate team, cheer squad, chorus and band. Both moderately popular jacks-of-all-trades, they managed to make prom king and queen even though they were just friends, and got scholarships to the same college. Billy played sports year round, but managed to talk about other things, mainly debating, singing or playing clarinet. Well, not when he was doing those things, as they involved his mouth. He had a tall, muscular build, his features seemingly mismatched. He had soccer legs and basketball feet, baseball arms on a football torso, which his head was thankfully not too small for, his white blond hair contrasting with his cheeks, which were always red for some reason, be it anger, embarrassment, or chill. Zoë’s body, however, seemed more perfectly constructed. Her complexion was warm and comforting like a cup of cocoa and she had shiny black hair, large brown eyes, long willowy arms and legs rippling with muscles and small, athletic breasts that did not get in the way when she cheered, played the flute, lacrosse, tennis or cricket. Both frequently smiled, especially when the life-long friends found out they were going to college together.

         It was a bright, cold day, one of those days in mid-December when there’s finally what to Billy’s mind counted as an “adequate” amount of snow. It was just so hard for him to really get into the spirit of things when the weather looked less like a Christmas card and more like a whole lot of dead plants stuck together with asphalt. Why someone who went for a jog through the woods every morning before class was so excited about five inches of snow was beyond even Zoë’s understanding and also Billy’s ability to explain. The cold air just felt so… crunchy on his lungs. It sounded bizarre, even to Billy, but once he’d been going long enough that he didn’t feel too cold, running in the snow was so refreshing.

         So, despite the fact that his cheeks looked like the entire cheer squad had slapped the shit out of him and there wasn’t exactly what one might call feeling in his fingers, Billy was in a very good mood. He turned away from the main road and jogged into what was charitably called the cross-country trail by the college track team. It kept the name mainly because very few people were wiling to reassess it. There was nothing quite like going over broken ground to get the blood pumping, Billy thought. He was immediately greeted by the smell of pine and the crunch of unbroken snow under his feet. He took it from the fact he couldn’t hear water trickling that the river had finally frozen over. He couldn’t see it from the trail, but from his previous morning jogs he knew that it ran parallel to the trail for about half a mile.

         Some people asked him, and quite rightly, when exactly a first-year college student had found them time for a morning jog, but it was early in Billy’s athletic career when he learned how to have the “Why am I doing this? It’s way too cold out. It’s way too early. I hate every choice that led me to jogging in the snow.” during the first ten minutes of the jog itself instead of for a twenty minute block beforehand, so that saved a lot of time. It was all a matter of dedication and mind over matter. Also, he had dropped his 8:00 AM ethics lecture within the first month, so that gave him plenty of time. He could drop one course if it gave him enough energy for his other classes, this college had a notoriously high freshman drop-out rate, and Billy refused to be just another fresher who dropped off the face of the earth.

         It was nice to have a jog into the thin strip of forest that the college seemed have bought to be a pleasant stripe of green forty feet in the background of the models in their early thirties wearing backpacks that came around about once a year to pose for photos that would make the college look more fun-loving and ethnically diverse on the website. It was one of the few places on campus that was far enough away from the Laundromat basement to not smell heavily of dollar-store Febreze knockoffs. Even on days when he had to substitute his morning job for an afternoon jog, because after all, no amount of Red Bull can hide the fact an all-nighter was all that stood between Billy and a “incomplete” assignment, especially not if you were the teacher’s aide who had to read the damn thing; Billy almost never saw any other students or faculty on his jogs. Unless, of course, you counted the caretaker’s distressingly fat Maine Coon a part of the faculty, but Billy had only encountered one student who was willing to argue Timmers worked for the college, and that person was a third-year law student who had just smoked a bag of marijuana so large Billy honestly wondered if it was now available at Costco.

         The fact of the matter was that Billy had never seen another human walking the cross-country trail at eight in the morning, so when a slender figure stepped out from between the trees Billy let out a manly exclamation of surprise that he would insist did not sound remotely like a three-year-old girl stepping on the tail of a cat of the same age. Fortunately, that slim figure was Zoë, and she’d been friends with him long enough that there was no point in trying to fake having dignity in that moment.

         “Zoë!” Billy exclaimed, deeper than his previous scream but still high enough that he took a moment to cough and compose himself before he continued, “What are you trying to do, give me a heart attack?”

         “I don’t want to hurt you,” Zoë said urgently, which is never a good way to start a conversation. She held out her hands in that position people usually only take if they’re trying to calm down someone who is on the verge of throwing a fit or if they’re pretending to tame a flock of velociraptors.

         “You look like hell,” said Billy, which was true. She was still wearing the outfit she had been the night before, but appeared to have taken her morning shower anyway. Water dripped miserably out of her sweatshirt and dribbled down her leggings, her long black hair plastered to her face in a single black, tattered sheet. Her makeup ran down her face in long black streams that made her eyes look large and hollow, and heavy brown stripes that showed thin strips of bluish-pale skin between them.

         Despite knowing as little about makeup as he could manage, Billy was aware that Zoë was not exactly a beauty vlogger and her usual approach to makeup involved pulling random tubes of liquid out of her coat pockets and saying things like, “Oh shit. I’ll just blend it out I guess.” or “Or don’t look at me! Don’t look at my eyes, I hate this, I guess I’m just catwoman now!” or “I guess that’s what blotting is for.” Somehow seeing it running off her face made it look more dramatic and distorting to her features, rather than “I’m a woman performing a musical recital and if I do not rub something on my face it will appear from where the audience is sitting that I have rubbed something on my face, but in a way I do not want.” That was definitely not the effect it was creating now; now it looked like something had tried to rub her face off her head.

         Billy thought that he could see faint white etching of frost forming on her hands and up her neck, but he was fairly sure that was an optical illusion caused by the thin light through the branches and the part of his sock that melted snow had now soaked through sending a “it’s too cold out here to be alive” message every few seconds.

         “Billy.” Zoë said urgently. She stumbled forward, her legs seemingly unwilling to bend properly. Her hand grasped his shoulder, so cold he inhaled sharply with pain. It was like the mere touch of her skin on the fabric of his sweatshirt was actively stabbing him through to the bone with knives so cold his flesh stuck to the blade like lips on cold metal. She looked into his eyes and he shuddered again. There was something wrong with her eyes, they looked concave, like the eyes on fish that has no business being still sold as edible at that age.

         With apparent effort, Zoë forced out another four words. Though the phrase was short, each word was spoken with the slow intensity of someone fighting both the urge to scream in someone’s face and the urge to collapse with exhaustion. Billy was far too distressed by the state of his friend to notice that, as thin and breathy as her voice was, she didn’t inhale before speaking.

         “Leave the reindeer alone.”

         Startled and not yet getting a concept out of what Zoë had just said, Billy pulled away from her instinctively. He tried to parse out a meaning from her statement, but with only half of a mind on the subject, as the rest of his mind was taken up by worrying about what Zoë had done to get in that condition, it seemed meaningless.

         “What happened to you?” Billy asked, trying to fight his urge to recoil and losing. Zoë simply shook her head and began to back away. Okay, she was clearly not in a state to discuss it, maybe once she had warmed up and was in a safe place and dry clothes he, or maybe a therapist, could get her to talk about what had happened. Billy didn’t like the idea of that, he was bad at giving emotional support and would much rather hurt whoever hurt his friend. To be honest, he didn’t have any experience fighting someone physically, but he was very big and muscular and thought he had pretty good odds beating up someone if he had to. After all, he was motivated, and more importantly, he was eighteen, and eighteen year olds have an inflated concept of their ability to come out on top in a fight.

         Someone had hurt his best friend and he needed her well enough to tell him who it was before he beat the tar out of them. That meant getting her inside immediately. She probably already had hypothermia, based on the fact it was late December and she was dripping wet.

         “Let’s get you inside.” said Billy, taking a cautious step towards Zoë. She drew further back, stepping over a fallen branch without taking her eyes off of Billy. He put up his hands as unthreateningly as possible.

         “You’re going to be okay.” he insisted, moving closer. Zoë shook her head, she looked like she might burst into tears at any moment, but god what was wrong with her eyes? Every time Billy tried to make eye contact with her, he felt something deep inside himself forcing him to look away before he figured out what he was looking away from.

         “Leave the reindeer alone.” Zoë repeated, her voice low and urgent. Billy lifted his hand, and much quicker than he would have expected, she spun around and walked briskly back into the woods. He broke off into a run after her. Cross-country it was. While it seemed that every branch in the forest was trying to high-five his face, Zoë moved forward quickly without appearing to be impeded by the woods at in the least. Branches cracked loudly as he pushed by them, snow crunched beneath his soaking wet sneakers, his breath came in long ragged gasps as he ran. Strangely, it seemed like the only noises in the forest were the ones Billy was making himself.

         “Zoë!” Billy cried out, not expecting her to react but desperately wanting a noise to blot out the awful silence around him. She didn’t appear to hear him at all, and she certainly didn’t call back. Zoë made no sound. Not even the woods made a sound, no birds chirping or squirrels chittering threats to animals fifty times their size, no distant sounds of other students waking up in the campus just beyond the trees.

         Billy had no idea how she managed to walk that fast, but at least it meant she was doing better than she looked like, he wouldn’t have expected someone who looked as bad as she did to be able to walk at all. He should have caught up to her by now, Billy thought, pressing on with a fresh gust of effort, but she seemed to only get further away the more he ran. He ignored the pain and the wet and the branches lashing out at him, not daring to take his eyes off of Zoë least he lose sight of her. She was getting harder to follow, her wet gray sweatshirt blending into the shadows between the trees. She moved silently behind a tree and failed to emerge from the other side. Billy blinked furiously and forced himself forward a few more yards, as his mind argued between the two ideas that if she stopped behind that tree, he could catch up, and the fact that tree was too young and thin to hide a toaster behind it, much less a teenage girl. He grabbed onto the tree when he reached it, more to stop himself from falling facelong into the snow than anything else.

         Bent over double, face red as plastic holly, Billy gave up on catching Zoë and tried to catch his breath instead. He was fast enough on the sports field, but he knew that in a footrace Zoë could overtake him nine times out of ten. The tenth time Billy wasn’t sure if Zoë was just sick of being asked to a rematch and let him win one. She was shorter, but had much longer strides than he did. Billy pressed his eyes closed and cursed himself internally for not thinking of this sooner. No one went off the trail in these woods, she could run as fast as she could, but her footprints would still lead Billy to wherever she stopped.

         He opened his eyes but didn’t straighten up. He looked at the snow. Billy wasn’t much of a tracker, but he could tell the difference between four inches of untouched snow and snow someone had just walked through. He was so sure she had been standing just here when he lost sight of her, that this was the tree she had darted behind. He glared at the tree accusingly, as if it were the tree’s fault that he lost track of her. Taking a deep breath, Billy drew up to his full height and looked around. Behind him, there was a distinct path he had been crashing along as he chased her, but aside from that Billy had no indication of where he was. He inhaled deeply, and the cold air was like daggers on his heaving lungs. How could he had been enjoying the weather less than half an hour ago? It was less than half an hour, wasn’t it? How long had he been running through the woods? He might not have been used to running between trees but he was still exhausted. He even didn’t feel this tired at the end of a football match, so how long had he been in the woods? He looked around, trying to remember which way the shadows were falling when he started his run, less to guess at how long he’d been out there and more to see if he’d gotten turned around. He must have done, Billy reasoned, as the woods weren’t that deep. It was just a strip of young trees between the quad and the river, wasn’t it? He should have been able to see at least one of them from any point in the woods.

         Finally, Billy’s eyes fell on something other than glittering white snow and twisted branches. In the snow, not far from him, the trees thinned enough that there was what should have been another stretch of unbroken snow. But this snow had fresh tracks left in it. Sadly, he could tell in a moment that these were the tracks of an animal, not Zoë, but they were so odd that for a moment, Zoë flew from his mind. They were large, but delicate and round, cleft in the middle like a deer but with two dots behind them. Part of Billy thought that they looked a little like rabbit ears with little round eyes under them, but he had as little experience with rabbits as with deer.

         The strange thing about the prints is that they started in the very center of the clearing and moved out into the deeper woods, like some giant hand had placed the animal delicately in the center of the clearing and let it wander away. Billy put that thought out of his mind, because it was ridiculous, it was creeping him out, and if the animal had held still while the snow started to fall that could have covered its tracks. Probably. Not that it had snowed in the past week, but Billy put this out of his mind and moved closer to the tracks.

         These tracks were broad and easy to follow, even with him churning up the snow beside them as he traced their path. He asked himself why he was following these tracks when Zoë was clearly in danger of something, but he found himself reluctant to give up on them and look for signs of someone who hadn’t left any tracks he could follow until this point. There was a movement at the edge of his vision, and Billy began moving towards it before he fully looked up. Maybe these tracks had lead him to Zoë after all. There was something grey moving between the trees, and his heart shot up in his chest with hope, failing to quiet down appropriately when he saw whatever it was it was far too large to be Zoë. And whatever it was, it was moving towards him.

         Billy held still for a moment, not daring to move lest whatever it was spook as easily as Zoë did. Maybe it was her, after all, and she was just much closer than he thought she was. No. It was coming out of the trees now, it was looking at him, and it was clearly what left the hoofmarks.

         As he had been conscious the past few years, Billy was aware of the movie Frozen and was able to think “Yeah, I guess that looks like the reindeer owned by dude who people keep saying I look like, so I guess that’s what reindeer look like.” despite the fact a small part of him had until this point always pictured reindeer as looking more like Bambi than Sven. Whatever it was, it was wearing a bright red bridle so it was clearly tame. Also, he rationalized, a wild animal wouldn’t be happily trotting up to a human it had never seen before.

         “Hey.” said Billy weakly, holding up his hand and immediately feeling stupid for doing so. The reindeer cocked its head and trotted forward a few more steps.

         “I, uh, don’t have anything…” Billy said quickly, patting down his pockets. A reindeer with a bridle walking up to a random human was definitely something that had broken out of a petting zoo. That would account for why the red bridle covered in round brass bells.

         “I know.”

         Billy blinked hard and cocked his head. The reindeer looked down at him. Billy had really not expected reindeers to be this big, but that didn’t account for where the voice came from.

         “Who’s there?” asked Billy, looking around.

         “I am.” said the reindeer. Billy hadn’t caught its mouth moving but that was definitely where the sound was coming from. He took in the bizarre appearance of the enormous creature. It’s antlers seemed to branch up forever into the trees, its thick creamy-white mane shook gently with every breath. Thick white and brown fur covered powerful muscles and the smell coming off of it was like nothing Billy had ever experienced. Because he was watching it so closely, he could see the dark, furry lips form the words, “You’ve lost your friend.”

         It wasn’t a question.

         Mind racing, Billy desperately tried to figure out what the appropriate thing to do in this situation was. Either he was losing his mind, in which case what he did next didn’t really matter, or a reindeer was talking to him.

         “Do you know where Zoë is?” Billy asked carefully. The animal smiled. It’s mouth wasn’t suited for it, and there was something very odd about the teeth.

         “I can take you to her.” the reindeer replied.

         This was weird. There was no getting around that. He had just found a talking reindeer in woods that were much, much bigger than they were on the outside, but the important thing was that Zoë was still missing.

         “I promise,” the reindeer said slowly, with a warm and husky voice. Billy couldn’t quite understand how the animal’s lips were forming English sentences, but they were definitely moving in time with the speech. Tentatively, Billy reached forward and touched the animal’s head. Warmth immediately flooded into his hand, and the reindeer rubbed against it affectionately. It reminded Billy how cold he was, and suddenly all he wanted was to bury himself in the animal’s fur and start feeling his fingers again.

         “I promise to bring you to Zoë.” the reindeer repeated. Billy flexed his cold fingers. If he was this cold, then Zoë, soaking wet and turning blue, needed help now. The last doubt out of his mind, Billy moved to the reindeer’s side and tried to figure out the fastest way to get up it. Steeling himself, he took a firm hold of the red bridle and swung his weight up on the animal’s back with all his might. He got a leg over and pulled himself into a balance, and it seemed to him that the reindeer flexed its muscles to settle him more firmly astride itself. Warmth flooded up into Billy from the thick, shaggy fur.

         For a moment, there was nothing but the stillness of the woods and the ragged warm fur beneath Billy’s hands. Neither of them moved. Then, he heard the animal’s voice again.

         “Dear god, you are stupid.” said the reindeer.

         Before Billy had fully registered what the reindeer had said, the thick, warm fur wriggled around his hands like maggots eating a corpse and tightened onto every part of him it could grab. Like thick cords, the fur wrapped itself around his fingers, his wrists, and up his arms. A sickening thought crushed the air out Billy’s lungs: This was not a reindeer. Billy knew almost nothing about reindeer but this was not a reindeer and it never had been one.

         The reindeer arched this neck back and laughed, its mouth opening at entirely the wrong angle and showing entirely the wrong set of teeth. It was as if someone had transplanted a wolf’s mouth into a reindeer’s head, but did it wrong so that the mouth could open up to an obtuse angle. A long, horrible tongue rolled past the fangs and writhed in the air like a dying snake as the creature snarled out a sickening noise that was slightly an agonised screech but mostly a cruel laugh.

         Billy became aware of the fact he was screaming and probably had been since the fur moved. The creature’s laughter rang through the icy woods, echoing and shattering icicles off the trees. The animal reared, and Billy hoped for a moment it would throw him off but the fur moved like snakes, rooting him firmly to the spot.

         Then it ran.

         Ice-encased branches whipped across his face, but could not dislodge him even when he pulled with the force. The forest was still morning-bright, the sunlight cracking through the branches and casting a thousand periwinkle-blue shadows dancing around the snow like dying spiders. The not-a-deer’s hooves passed over the landscape, sending a flurry of snow in its wake.

         Before them, the woods appeared to finally thin. They were reaching the edge of the woods, and a last gasp of hope awoke in Billy’s chest. If they got out of the woods, would the not-a-deer let him go? Was that it’s plan all along? Sunlight danced on the ice, and Billy’s breath caught in his throat. He knew what the thing’s destination was. He threw himself as hard to the left as he could, but something… momentum? The twisting fur? The sheer will of the creature? Righted him again. There was nothing Billy could do.

         They were heading right for the river.

With a leap, the not-a-deer broke out of the woods, hanging in the air for a moment, the icy surface of the river sparkling beneath them like a delicate spun glass sheet.

         “The ice!” Billy screamed. “It won’t hold us!” But even as he wailed these words, Billy knew that was exactly the idea. The crash of hooves meeting ice was enormous, but even that was drowned out by the sickly crack of the ice’s surface giving way. Billy’s last scream was cut off as the water hit him; he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t move, all he felt was the water shredding icy cold through his whole body, it felt like even his heart forgot to beat.

         Billy knew he was going to die. He would probably drown before he froze to death, and all that was left to do was decide if he was going to die with his eyes closed or not. It was the only choice he had left in this world. Billy forced his eyes open against the icy water. At what he saw, he almost wished he hadn’t.

         Zoë’s body floated unfettered mere yards away from him. Her eyes were closed, her skin was discolored, and her hair floated around her face like smoke. Blood cut red streamers in the water from where something with a large mouth and sharp teeth had removed a chunk of her leg. But still, he could see it was just a taste missing. This was where the thing took it’s meals. This was not a dinner table, this was a larder. This was were the thing brought it’s meat to eat slowly over the long, cold winter.

         There was something else in the water, something small and moving towards him. It didn’t swim, it didn’t float, it merely stood upright in the water, pulled ever closer to Billy by some unseen force. It was also Zoë. But it was Zoë as he saw her in the woods before this all started. She was underwater with him, but water dripped off her heavily, tears rolled down her cheeks from her sunken, lifeless eyes. Billy knew no sound could carry through water, so when he heard Zoë speak, he knew she wasn’t using her mouth to do it.

         “I told you.” said Zoë’s ghost, her voice trembling. “I told you.”

         Billy couldn’t respond, his lungs full of water, but his last thought as the cold and the water and the shock drained what little life was left in him, was this:

         I found Zoë after all. I found her.

         Above the surface, the ice rocked gently and slowed in its movements. The world was quiet, but after a few moments, one finch let out a tentative twitter. The silence of the wood was broken. The thing had fed once again. A few more animals dared to start moving. What appeared to be a small clump of leaves stood up and stretched its back. Timmers shook snow out of his fluffy mane and trotted delicately to the edge of the river. Humans were so horribly predictable: they see an animal and automatically assume it’s there for their benefit. Timmers had long since stopped trying to warn the students about the pooka himself, no amount of purring around their ankles or hissing and charging from the woods or growling ominously at the river seemed to do any good. Every human who had gone to the river had met the pooka and every human who met the pooka were drowned by it.

         Timmers thought that this time, leading a real human with a real voice, even if they were a ghost at the moment, to the next victim would have some effect. The plan had almost worked perfectly: the ghost had spoken to her friend, the human was warned, and he still jumped on the reindeer the first chance he got. Timmers stretched out his body in the feline equivalent of a sigh of resignation and turned back to the caretaker’s cottage, where a tin of good wet food and an army blanket twisted into a turban-like affair waited for him in front of the electric heater, Timmers’ salary for his important work on campus, even if no one bothered to listen to him.

         There was just no helping humans.

[haphazardlyparked]

Peddler in the Towers

Part 6 of Into Fairy

(previous - part five)

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The Towers road was hard-packed dirt that ran from the docks through the center of town before stretching out past the cultivated fields and orchards; then it wound its way into the forested Towers feet and disappeared from view.  Cal and Meg set off down it two days after arriving to Auphont, the trio from their riverboat were long gone. But Cal was right that they wouldn’t be alone. Early on their first day, rambunctious group of four adventurers who’d been in town for a week passed them riding fine horses, laughing and joking as they went, as well as another pair on more sensible mules. Cal and Meg had opted to go on foot, carrying their supplies. 

“They do know they can like, die out there, right?” Meg asked when a third set of adventurers—another trio, also mounted on horses, and also laughing amongst themselves as they rode—passed them by. They were even passing some kind of meat pastries between them, as though it were a picnic. Meg wouldn’t have begrudged anyone a picnic. The pastries had smelled delicious too. But this was a quest, and there had to be some kind of solemnity to it all, right? 

Cal looked over at her with the patience of a stone. “You do know we can like, die out there right?” he asked, mimicking her words but completely botching the inflection.

She inhaled to argue--and then scowled and kicked a pebble at him instead.

Cal was right; Meg was being a bit hypocritical. 

Even after all the stories she had hunted down and begged and bribed out of people—the most maddening of which included the nearly-forsaken wanderers who’d traded precious heirlooms to the Peddler in exchange for the way out, only to find they had been just one turn away from the road all along—the whole Oracle quest thing didn’t seem quite real to her. Taking it seriously, or hoping that everyone else did, wasn’t going to make it feel like a quest for her either. 

“Whether it feels like one or not,” Cal said sympathetically, when she tried to explain it to him later that night, after they’d made camp on the side of the road. “You’re right that we should be cautious. There’s a reason why the Towers are infamous, Peddler stores or no; there has only ever been the one road through them, and it really is dangerous if you leave the path. They say the Towers were one mountain once, before a great earthquake shattered it into three peaks, and that’s what makes traversing them beyond the known road so dangerous. You never know when you’ll come up against a deep chasm, or a sheer bluff. They’re not like normal mountains.”

Meg tried to take Cal’s words to heart, but the truth was that she still didn’t feel any sense of danger or adventure. 

*

Though most of the other adventurers broke off from the caravaners’ road after only one night on it, Cal had learned of a travelers’ shrine while talking local flora and fauna with the caravaners, and being Cal, he wanted to leave an offering there. The shrine was a humble thing, set on the first major crest of the pass before it descended into a steep, switchback route plumbed the depths of a deep valley between two of the mountains. For the traders on their way to Auphont, the shrine marked the easy sloping end to their journey. For Meg and Cal, it would mean the real start of their wandering, and maybe the real start of their quest. 

Meg had agreed to the shrine plan because she couldn’t see how it would significantly change their plans. She even gathered plant stems and wildflowers as they went, to braid together her own offering to the shrine as they made their ascent along the road.

It was early afternoon of the third day by the time they reached the shrine, and Meg’s whole body was tired. Her only consolation was that Cal seemed to be a bit sore himself after their long indolent months on his lands. The shrine was small and modest, little more than mounds of rocks, moss, and other woodsy things clearly meant to represent the three peaks of the Towers. Cal had bought a small candle of green wax to burn from a trader, and Meg laid her wreath over the mini-Towers so that it encircled them.

“Is there something we’re supposed to say?” she asked, yawning and stretching out while they waited for the candle to burn down or get blown out—either would do, Cal said, but from where Meg was sitting it looked like the three miniature Towers would protect the tiny dancing flame from the gentle breeze until there was nothing left to burn.

Cal shook his head. “It’s more of a reminder. We are saying we are guests here, and the important thing is that we respect the lands we pass through.”

“Got it,” said Meg. “No hooliganism. I can do that.”

“Mm,” Cal agreed, and dodged the piece of hard bread Meg threw at him.

*

Cal’s candle was nothing more than a puddle of wax in less than an hour, and then they were off.

From the shrine, finding a little game trail was easy (for Cal) and they followed it away from the road to make their first camp in the proper wilderness of the Tower. They had only been trooping haphazardly through the underbrush of the woods for an hour or so—Meg picking their route at random with a rising excitement, while Cal kept an reflexive eye on the sun’s position over head—when it became clear that someone was trooping haphazardly after them.

They were following a small trail that rose and fell as it seemed to circle around something, and Cal kept looking at the falling sun when he stopped suddenly, tugging on Meg’s arm silently to halt her too. The look on his face--thoughtful, head tilted as if listening--had Meg doing the same, but Meg didn’t hear anything until a dog yipped loudly. 

“Hello?” Meg shouted in the direction of the bark, before Cal could stop her.  

It was a human voice that replied. “Adventurers?”

The speaker sounded distant but hopeful. Meg froze Cal went for the hilt of his sword, and then Meg heard what Cal had before the dog: the sound of someone tromping closer to them grew louder and louder.

In front of them, a dark shape bounded out from behind a copse of trees just to the left, and Meg yelped. Cal pulled her back and stepped forward, drawing his sword. The afternoon’s sun flashed against the steel, and Cal was already in a wary, protective stance before they both realized that it was just a dog.

“I thought I was going to have a heart attack,” Meg muttered under her breath, but Cal still didn’t relax. 

The dog was a skinny, long hunting dog of some sort, with the kind of narrow hound face that Meg had always found somewhat creepy, but there was a loop of leather around its neck that said it wasn’t wild. Its tail wagged in a satisfied blur when it saw them relax, and then it sat down on its haunches and panted and watched them.

A few minutes later, the shoemaker from Auphont emerged from the same place as the dog, carrying a small traveler’s pack on his back. “Oh thanks be!” he pronounced, throwing his hands up in relief the moment he saw them. 

Meg and Cal stared. Meg kept staring while Cal sheepishly sheathed his sword, nodded at the shoemaker, and greeted, “Hello, Master Cobbler.”

“I’ve been following you,” the shoemaker said without preamble.

“Apparently,” said Meg, not very politely 

Cal nudged her chidingly. “What for?” he asked.

“To save you!” the shoemaker exclaimed like it should have been obvious. “And now that I’ve found you, you need to return to the town before you actually die here.”

“Do you know something of the Towers that we don’t?” Cal asked.

“No, no, no,” the shoemaker said. His reply was quick and impatient. “I think we all know equally well that the Towers wilderness means death. There’s a reason we have the road.”

“We’re searching for the Peddler,” Cal said, though Meg thought the statement was both a little unnecessary--surely the shoemaker already knew this--as well as a little wrong. It was more like they were waiting for the Peddler to find them. 

The shoemaker reply was an agitated exclamation. “He doesn’t exist!”

“But…” Meg said, grappling with a disorienting mix of disappointment and the sense that she’d known this would happen all along. “The oracles—?”

The shoemaker threw his hands up again. “Yes, yes, the oracles, nevermind them. They come second. First, what’s important is that you know the Peddler is only story, you understand, perhaps something made up to interest a customer, and perhaps now someone feels responsible for all the adventurers that keep disappearing into the Towers and has to go running after them to save them as if he were the Peddler in truth.”

Meg gaped as she processed this. “Are you saying this is all some giant marketing ploy?”

“I—” the shoemaker frowned at her defensively. “I told someone they maybe wanted a new pair of shoes in case they lost the trail and were doomed to wandering the broken faces of the Towers until an unreliable sole caused them to slip and die, and then I spun a tail about a mysterious peddler who might also trade them the secret of safety for a good pair of boots. To drive the point home, you see.”

“Oh,” Meg said, because as long as you were a little bit of afraid of losing the trail and believed in things like the Peddler, that was actually kind of a great sales pitch. And Meg and Cal had flown partway to the Towers on dragonback in search of that very same Peddler, in order to find directions into fairy so that they could hunt for a magical sword from a long-dead ancient hero... so who was Meg to say what people should and shouldn’t believe in? 

“I am very good at selling my wares,” the cobbler said soberly. 

“But the oracles,” Cal said, repeating Meg’s question, and Meg felt a faint odd tingling in her shoulders. He was right—she had been right, too. How could a lying shoemaker set off a bunch of oracle prophecies? And there was something else she was forgetting, she was sure of it. 

The dog thumped its tail loudly against the ground and smiled its weird smile. The cobbler rubbed a hand over his face and said, “Yes, about that. I did learn something…ah… portentous, shall we say, a few weeks ago. And since I am the Peddler, after a fashion... you see?”

Meg looked at Cal; to Meg it sounded sufficiently loop-holey and frustratingly prophecy-like, but Cal was the one who would know those things. 

Cal returned Meg’s look thoughtfully, and asked the cobbler, “Will you be sharing this portentous information?”

“Of course!” the shoemaker exclaimed. “Who am I to meddle with the prophecies? I know my role, an I will do it. Now, you will go back to the town and wait for me, and I will go and warn a few of the others, and then return within three days to... Share my story.”

Cal glanced at their packs, laden with camping supplies, and said, “We will stay here tonight, and head to the base of the mountain tomorrow. And wait for you by the road on the way back to Auphont.”

“Agreed,” said the shoemaker quickly. “Wait for me three days by the road. Now. I must go after the others.”

And with that same air of exasperated impatience, he confirmed the way back to the road to Cal, gave Meg a thin rolled scrap of paper for just in case they still managed to get themselves lost, and started away. 

“Three days, remember!” he said as he trotted off, the smiling dog at his heels. “It was agreed!”

And then they were both gone.

Meg stuck the scrap of paper into one of pouches and looked at Cal. “It’s nearly sundown, and you didn’t even offer to share our camp with him,” she observed.

Cal avoided her look guiltily. “I know, it was very rude, but…”

“,I’m not going to complain,” Meg assured him. “I’m just surprised. But really, I’m glad that you also—” she paused abruptly, uncertain of what she was trying to say. “I am not in the mood for company.”

“Yes,” Cal murmured. “I think I was feeling the same.”

“Makes sense. We only just got started out on our adventure, and then he totally just put a damper on everything!” 

Cal nodded along with Meg, but still she had the unpleasant suspicion that she was forgetting something. 

Something important.   

*

In the forest that was not the Temple, Meg knelt with Chai in her hands, point ground into the dirt. She clung to the hilt, leaning against it an attempt to keep herself upright.

“—son of a—”

.

.

.

(the tone of this has been bugging me for like a week now and i still want my line breaks back but ;_; alas)

[0kayblue]

Stupid House

Summary: You buy the house that Robin loved even after she left you.

Word Count: Just short of 3k

Notes: Nothing is gayer then buying a house that your first love was in love with. Even when she left you high and dry.

Character Relations: Robin x Reader (romantic relationship) Steve x Reader (platonic relationship)

A/N: It’s been awhile hasn’t it? I’ve had a hard time bringing myself to write but I decided to just throw this little idea out there. It’s not very good but it is something. 

WARNINGS: Bad writing, you’ve been warned.

As you and Robin walked down the street casually chatting over the sound of crisp autumn leaves being crushed under your weight. You were torn between listening to every word that came out of her mouth and the multiple houses that stood solidly next to each other.  

Some were newly remodeled and others just new. You thought about all the things you would do differently with them. The type of flowers you would’ve planted outside, or the patio furniture you’d put on the porch. Your mind drifting through the front door and inside, imagining the layout. What rooms were where, how many there were, and how big they were. Thoughts of colors you’d like to paint the walls and themes you’d put in rooms that were barely used. You even started daydreaming about a master bedroom with a king sized bed. Lazy Sunday afternoon naps with light barley creeping its way in through the curtains. Thin fingers gingerly running through your hair as your hand trailed up and down her back. Buried in the crook of  her neck, the mix of her perfume and natural scent enveloping you in comfort.  

“What do you think?” Robin asked, beaming at you. She pulled you out of your thoughts faster than almost anything else could. You just smiled at her and nodded. You had absolutely no clue what she was talking about. 

Robin rolled her eyes and smirked, knowing that you weren’t exactly with her right now. Physically you were right beside her, mentally you were in her arms.

 “Okay, so bright  yellow platform boots for your birthday, duly noted.” Your full attention brought back to earth as the words ‘bright’ and ‘platform’ hit you like a train. You playfully pushed her. 

“What? No!” You laughed lightly as you both stopped at a four way stop. 

“Then what do you want?” Robin asked as both of you crossed the street towards the desired destination of the park. 

“Robin, my birthday is a while away don’t worry about it. Besides, you need to save all the money from Family Video for college.” Robin just rolled her eyes. “I’m serious.” You firmly reiterated as your eyes go back to the houses. Robin eyes followed yours and you both stopped in front of this one story white house with black trim. With white open steps that lead you onto to small open porch that sat next to a built out window nook. It was a beautiful house, it wasn’t exactly  too big, but it also wasn’t too small. It looked like a rather cozy house and something about it just captured your attention. 

“I love that house.” Robin said and you turned to her as she gazed at the house. You were quick to look around not seeing anyone in sight as you grabbed her hand and squeezed. 

“Do you?” You asked as you leaned your head on her shoulder careful of your surroundings. Your body on edge as you let go of her hand and remained against her shoulder.

“Something about it, I don’t know, it just seems safe.” You nodded in agreement. 

“Then that’s what I want.” 

“What?” Robin said kind of confused. The house? You wanted the house? 

“The house. I want this house.” Robin laughed, of course you wanted the house. Robin leaned her head against yours and sighed. She loved you, she truly did. 

“Tell you what, if we stay in Hawkins, I’ll buy you the house.” Robin said with a sad smile. Robin knew your plan was to get away, to run as far away from Hawkins as you could, and she couldn’t blame you. After everything you both had been through, not to mention everything that awaited you, away from small town minds was probably for the better. Robin wanted to leave as well, it was just harder. You both had more than just one family now, one that Robin grew more attached to than she originally thought she would. 

“That’s cheating.” You said as you smiled warmly at her. You began to walk your own love struck self away from the girl that was head over heels for you.

“No, not really.” She went to explain as she started to catch up by your side.

••••••••••

It’s been ten years since you’ve last seen Robin. Ten long years. You got married, then divorced. Your mom had gotten sick, then died. You told her of your sexuality before she passed, she didn’t understand, your father didn’t either, but they let it go. Which was better than the other outcomes that so many others faced. It wasn’t right, but it was something you had to accept. 

Your father went not long after your mother, a broken heart, he was always so dependent on her. Hawkins grew even smaller if that was possible, the news of every odd things that had happened here died down quite a bit, causing people to leave. Remaining questions of all those events you went through being shut down with halfwitted answers from the government. You of course couldn’t tell anyone the truth nor did you really want to. Only few would truly believe and the rest would call you crazy. Not to mention the danger that could bring to El. 

Speaking of, El wasn’t in Hawkins nor where the rest of the Hoppers-Byers family. The Wheelers also packed up. Which reminds you that you still have to RSVP to Nancy and Jonthan’s wedding. Lucas, Dustin, and Max all off at college. Lucas and Max still an off and on thing that still managed to entertain you and you looked forward to the nights that they stopped by and would update you on all of there college adventures. 

Steve was the only one that remained in Hawkins with you, in fact he lived with you. In that white house with the black trim. 

You bought the house after your divorce and right before your mother died. Steve practically moved in as soon as you bought the place. He claimed his rent was getting too high, but you knew he was just lonely. Steve had proven himself to be quite the successful salesman earning more than you did at the bank. 

A couple weeks before he moved in his then girlfriend up and left him. Just out of the blue and you had never seen a more heart broken and confused Steve in your life. Your heart really ached for Steve because you knew exactly what that was like. 

Which reminds you that you need to get Lydia to come over so he can finally ask her out. They’ve been fawning over each other like a bunch of high schoolers ever since she moved in. They need to get together and get married so hopefully, maybe, you could have your house back. You loved Steve you really did, but you wanted your house back. Not to mention it was time for him to experience romantic love again. But, baby steps you reminded yourself. Baby steps.

You took a deep breath and crawled out of bed. Waking up from a lazy Sunday afternoon, you didn’t have to work on Sundays due to banking hours, so naps were permanently on your Sunday schedule. You stretched as your feet touched the cold wood floor. You put your hand on your lower back as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your hair was a wreck and your dads oversized shirt came untucked from the pair of shorts you had on. You just rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through your hair brushing it out. You glanced at the clock and it was already about time for dinner. 

“Steve.” You called out as you began to walk out of your room. “Are you going out tonight or do I need to make dinner for two?” You asked as you walked into the kitchen your eyes focused on him sitting in your chair.  

“Uh,…” Steve began as you raised an eyebrow. You looked down at the table to the steam coming from your favorite mug. You heard the guest bathroom toilet flush and the sink began to run. A wicked smirk found your face, that dog. Steve, the hair, Harrington was finally making a move.  

“Steve, who’s here? Did you invite Lydia-?” You were cut off as the guest bathroom door opening and Robin looked you dead in the eyes. Your heart stopped as she looked at you sadly. A crooked smile on her face. Robin looked aged from her time away from Hawkins, still stunningly perfect, but obviously older. She was dressed to the nines in an all black pant suit that made your cheeks flush. She looked incredible and you were standing here in pjs with semi-crazy hair. 

“Dinner for three?” Steve asked breaking the dense silence. You just closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and backed away back into your room. 

Robin flinched when she heard the door slam shut. She didn’t even say hi. She was so relieved to see you and you still looked so beautiful. She looked at the space where you once stood and her gaze quickly found Steve. 

“You didn’t tell her I was coming?” Robin asked sharply. 

“You literally called like thirty minutes ago! I wasn’t going to wake her up and be like ‘hey, wake up, y’know Robin, the girl who ripped your heart into shreds, our former best friend, yeah she’s going to be here in thirty minutes.’, I was not going to do that!” Steve was quick to defend himself and with good reason. Waking you from a nap was an awful idea to begin with.

“Well she would’ve liked the warning, dingus.” Robin said as her hands found her hips. Considering you first was always done, but no matter how Robin tried to plan things with you it always came out a lot different than how she originally wanted it. 

“I was going to give her one, when YOU were at the restaurant waiting on us. That way she could’ve made the decision if she even wanted to see you or not. I was going to give her the option.” Steve retorted crossing his arms. The weight of this situation truly falling into Robin’s shoulders. 

Steve was ecstatic to see Robin, but also furious. She packed up in the middle of the night and left she didn’t call, hell she didn’t even leave a note. She just left. She left him, the kids, and you without even a goodbye. You all mourned her like she was dead. Honestly what were you supposed to do? No one could even get into contact with her. 

Robin sighed and returned to her coffee. She needed to get away. Her parents were down her throat and she let it slip that you and her where more than just “best friends”, they flipped out and Robin ran away. Part of her wanted to talk it through with you, but the other part told her she couldn’t bare the thought of dragging you down with her. I mean who knew how your parents would react, so she just took off. She regretted it and always thought about calling, but never did. She thought about calling everyone, because she hurt everyone. Not just you. 

“I am sorry, Steve. I am sorry I took off without a word. I should have talked with you, at least.” Steve’s expression softened and he approached Robin slowly. His gaze softened as he pulled Robin into his embrace. 

“You dingus.” Steve said as Robin’s body tensed from the sudden embrace. She was soon to relax and wrap her arms around Steve.

“I know, in this case I am.” Steve's eyes started to water as he pulled away. 

“Alright.” He said sniffling and hitting Robin on the shoulder. “Alright.” He repeated a little stronger. “I’ll try and get (Y/N) out-.” 

“No. Let me try.” Robin quickly cut him off and headed towards the room she saw you run into. She put her ear against the door overhearing your sobs. Guilt coursed through Robin’s veins as she turned the door knob. It was surprisingly not locked. As she opened the door she caught a glimpse of you standing with your head in your hands.

“Get out!” You screamed furiously as you threw a pillow at Robin. As the pillow hit her square in the face, you cursed that you didn’t skip the nap today and put working locks on your doors. “Don’t you knock?” You questioned as you went to grab another pillow. 

“Hey, hey, listen to me.” Robin began ready to catch the pillow. Robin has only seen you act like this once. You went mental after a run in with a demogorgon and it was the second saddest thing Robin had ever seen, this was the first. She caused you to lose it, it was her fault, and that tore her apart. 

Robin approached you slowly as you held that pillow like a shield. You didn’t want her anywhere near you, but at the same time you were so relieved she was here. That the nightmares that plagued you about her weren’t a reality. Robin started to get on the bed and shook as she walked on it. The tears wouldn’t stop and you most definitely couldn’t make them. Your vision was blurry as you looked up at her. 

“What do you want?” You said coldly as she jumped onto the ground. 

“A welcome hug, dork. What else?” She said and the cold facade vanished quickly as you slammed yourself into her arms. You needed her, you hated to admit it, but you needed her. 

Robin arms wrapped tightly around you as she buried her face into your hair. The familiar perfumed scented shampoo welcoming her home. Robin began to sob, she missed you so much. The fact that you stayed here threw her into confusion but she was thankful that you were here. 

“I h-hate you.” You stuttered out through sobs. 

“I know.” Robin said with a chuckle as she fell back onto the bed. As you both landed on the bed you both laughed. It was an odd laugh, it didn’t make any sense, but what made sense about any of this. Absolutely nothing, none of this made sense. Robin didn’t deserve your embrace and she knew that, but here you both laid. Wrapped up in each others arms, soaking up each moment like it was the last time you were ever going to be together. 

You both started to calm down as her soft hand cupped your face. It wasn’t her place to touch you like this. To try and hold you like nothing ever changed, but she couldn’t help herself. You didn’t stop her either, you can't bring yourself to do it. You waited so long for this. Ten years too long did you wait for this. Your rage would have to wait, because right now you needed this. You needed her. You craved her. 

You brought your lips to hers and the fireworks you felt when you first kissed returned full force. Robin melted into you as you deepened the kiss. 

In that moment Robin knew it was going to be okay, that you would be okay, but she still needed to apologize. She needed to tell you the truth, no matter how hard it was getting to pry herself away from you. As the kisses grew messier and more needy between you two the guilt began to submerge Robin. 

“(Y/N).” Robin cooed as she pulled away from you. A whine escaped your lips as you looked into her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Robin said you pushed yourself away from her and took a deep breath. Most of you wished she didn’t say anything that way you could just have her again, but in retrospect that was a bad idea.

“I know.” You mumbled as you sat up. Robin’s face fell, that was the answer she expected, she didn’t want that answer but it was the one she got. 

“I ran away and I shouldn’t have. I was just scared and I regret not talking to you first. My parents found out I was gay and flipped out and I couldn’t bring you down with me.” You took a deep breath and wiped your eyes. Of course they found out. 

“It’s okay, I don’t forgive you, but it’s okay. I understand.” You said standing up and heading towards the bedroom door. You understood that fear and it took everything to not run away from your mother's death bed.

“You can stay as long as you want-.” You began, this emotional hurricane becoming too much. 

“I never stopped loving you.” The words falling from Robin’s lips as she cut you off. It was the whole truth and nothing but the truth. “I still love you.” You began to rub your temples. “I’m serious, I love you.” She replied very anxiously awaiting a reply. You had to still love her, right? 

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way. I mean after what I did. I don’t deserve you, I really don’t. I never have-.” You just laughed, hoping that Robin would let herself breath a little. You still loved her, you never stopped. 

“Of course I still love you. Why do you think I bought this stupid house?” You laughed and Robin’s body carried you to her before she could really think to do so. She pulled you into a tight embrace, you still loved her and that’s all that mattered to her. 

Things weren’t fixed completely between you and Robin, but it was a start.