#EDIT: A SAVING GRACE: If I turn it off then on again it still saves my list. Small miracles.

[vetinarihavelock]

Okay while I'm glad to see that xkit does have a tool that allows you to block everything except original posts, I don't like that the whitelist system involves having to type out every individual blog username. One, could you not make a button to whitelist a blog's reblogs faster? But two - and a little more importantly - I don't wanna have to keep renewing the list every goddamn time a blog decides to change its URL, and the types of blogs that I would only wanna follow with a reblog-block tool functioning are the types that most often change their names on a dime.

...Yes this is about gif editing blogs; I'm sorry, I love y'all - but not enough to tolerate looking at some of the ass sets that you're under obligation to share. And I mean really bad.

[cmncisspnandmore]

All hands on deck -Part 3

Parings: Poly!Taskforce141 X Wife!Reader

Warnings: None?

Word count: 7844

Not beta read or edited, all mistakes are mine.

Previous: Part 2

2 months. 8 weeks. 56 days.1,344 hours. 80,640 minutes.

That’s how long John, Kyle, Simon and Johnny had been gone.

You rest your head on your hand, sitting on the dark brown chair in the corner of the playroom. Your mug of peppermint tea sitting on a coaster next to you, Right next to the book Kyle was reading before he left. Hope sits on the floor, smashing wooden blocks together, her little cheeks flushed pink. Her short brown hair pulled up in two tiny pigtails. Theo lays on the oversized bean bag, rubbing his eyes furiously. 

“Mama,” he whines, and you look over, blinking rapidly as you focus on the 4 year old.

“Yes baby?” 

“I want Papa!” he cries, head tipping back as a harsh sob leaves his lips. 

“I know baby, i know,” you frown, standing from your chair, walking over to the overtired toddler and picking him up.He presses his face into the side of your neck.

“I want Papa,” he whines again, his voice tired. For the past 2 weeks Theo had refused to go to bed, throwing monumental fits, throwing himself to the ground and crying for hours. Nothing you did soothed him, it always ended the same way, you sitting outside his bedroom door, your own tears trailing down your cheeks as you listened to him cry himself to sleep. The days with him weren't much easier, his overtiredness causing every small thing to be a battle. He had started going after Hope, hitting her, biting her, and then in turn hitting you when you tried to break them up.

The only saving grace for your sanity was that the older children had school during the day. With 3 of your 5 children gone from the house 8 hours a day you were at least able to have some semblance of order. But the house was nowhere near where you wanted it to be. The dishes piled up in the sink. Laundry wasn't done, and the entire house needed to be deep cleaned. But there wasn't enough time in the day.

You felt like you were drowning, an engine running without gas. Between waking up at every small sound in the house, Theo’s refusal to sleep, and getting up at 5am each morning to get breakfast and lunches done for the older kids. Not to mention the never ending errands you had to run, going to the grocery store, bringing Kira to gymnastics, Joseph to football, Isla to ballet. 

You were exhausted.

Theo sniffles into your neck, and you rub his back gently, trying to soothe him. 

“I want Papa,” he says softly, his tears soaking the collar of your pink blouse. 

“I know, I wish I knew when he was going to be home,” you breathe. Your lips brush over his cheek, your hand making small circles on his back. Hope toddles over to you, her hands gripping your pant legs. Her big blue eyes turned up towards you.

“Up! Up!” she demands, her hands pulling on your yoga pants. You crouch and pick her up, settling her on your other hip. Theo notices and reaches over smacking her in the face. It takes Hope a moment to register what happened and she starts screaming. 

“Theo!” you scold, putting the 4 year old on his feet. He stares up at you with his brown eyes. Tiny brows furrowed in anger.

“No! No Hope! I don't like her!” he screams, raising his tiny fists to beat against your leg. You cradle Hope to your chest as Theo beats on your thigh. Big tears stream down her cheeks, a tiny hand print on her face, 

“Theo we don't hit, it's not nice.” You sigh, looking down at him. His face is red and angry as he continues to hit you. “Damnit Theo ENOUGH!” You yell, and he stops immediately, his lower lip trembling. You watch as his face scrunches up and he starts to scream. 

“I no like you Mama!” he screeches before he takes off from the playroom, his angry footsteps disappearing down the hall. You close your eyes, your head pounding, Hope still crying softly in your arms. Theo’s angry screams down the hall, you take a deep breath. Trying to compose yourself, as you walk down the hallway. 

“Do you want some strawberries? Will that make you feel better?” You ask Hope, and she stops crying almost immediately. You shake your head, she was definitely one of your husbands kids, food seemed to be the cure all for her. You walk down the hall and set her in her highchair. You see Theo’s feet peeking out from under the island counter, but don't say anything. You know if you said something to him he would just lash out at you. He was like a tightly wound spring, one wrong move and he exploded. 

You grab the container of berries from the fridge and start cutting them into small pieces, plating them on one of Hope’s tiny pink plates. You deposit them on her tray and she digs in, hands fisting as much fruit as she can. She shoves fistfull after fistfull into her mouth.  Strawberry juice dribbled down her chin, staining her yellow dress pink.  

A little hand grabs the bottom of your pants as you put the knife into the kitchen sink. You glance down, Theos small hand grips the black fabric tight. You kneel down, knees cracking as you come face to face with your overtired four year old.

“Sowwy Mama…” he says softly, looking down at the cream tile.

“I accept your apology, but we don’t use our hands to hit people. It’s not nice, Hope didn’t do anything to you. I know you miss Papa, Dad, Da and Daddy. I wish I could make them appear so they could hug you sooo tight they squish all the sad outta you, but I can’t. And I miss them too, Theo. It’s okay to be upset, but it’s not okay to use your hands to hurt people, okay?” You rub your fingers over the backs of his hands, and he nods. Brown curls falling into his face, you brush them back smiling softly at him.

“C’mon, how about you have a snack before we go pick up the twins and Isla from the bus stop, does that sound nice?” You reach for him, pulling him to his feet. He nods, “we have any blueberries?” 

“We sure do,” you smile, and Theo races to a chair, scrambling up it. He rests his elbows on the table, and watches as you grab them from the fridge and put them back in a bowl for him.

You take a seat opposite of him, watching as he eats the small blue fruit. Your head resting on your hand, your head still pounds. Each beat of your heart is like a hammer in your head. You rub your temples, wincing as Hope starts to bang her plate on the high chair tray.

“More! More! More!” she laughs, the plate clattering to the floor. 

“Okay, okay, you can have a few more,” you push back your chair, grabbing her plate from the floor, you squick some blueberries for her, and give her back the plate. Theo and Hope eat their fruit happily, your eyes flickering to the clock on the wall. It was almost time to go to the bus stop to get the other kids. 

“Eat up my friends, we gotta go get your siblings in a moment,” you muse, walking down the hall. You collect Theo and Hope's shoes, after slipping on a pair of flats. Theo’s dinosaur sneakers are tattered and in need of replacing. You sigh as the velcro closure hangs on by mere threads. It was always something. You kneel in front of Hope’s highchair and slide her baby pink crocs onto her feet. Her face smeared in pink and purple juices from her snack. You wipe her mouth with your sleeves, staining your shirt. You could hear Simon's voice in your head, grumbling about trying to get stains out of your shirts. A smile ticked up on your lips, he did most of the laundry when they were home. He claimed the monotonous task quieted his mind, much like when he cleaned his gun. He would always scold you for using your shirt or pants to wipe the various messes off the children. At one point he was convinced you did it just to punish him. 

Not that it was your intention. You never did it maliciously to give him more to do, but with 5 kids it was faster to just use your shirt or pants to wipe small messes than find a rag. There was barely enough time to use your shirt before they smeared it over the furniture. 

The clock on the wall chimes, 3pm, the soft melodic song pulling you from your thoughts. You quickly slip on Theo’s shoes, and pull Hope from her high chair. 

“Lets go my friend, time to get the others,” you hold your hand. Theo climbs off the chair, shoving his last berry in his mouth. His tiny hand slips into yours, as you walk down the hall. Pulling open the front door you glance around, hoping that maybe the black sub they took to base would be pulling down the driveway, but it was empty. Only the discarded bikes and sidewalk chalk there. The chalk drawings faded from the sun, and various shoes walked across it.

The bus stop was at the end of your street, about a 5 minute walk from your house. Theo holds your hand the whole way, eagerly looking at the houses as you pass them. He points out all the different color flowers that are starting to bloom in your neighbors yards. A group of parents stand at the end of the street, all of them talking among themselves. 

“Mama! Piper!” Theo exclaims tugging on your hand as he spots his friend. Piper was your next door neighbor Maria’s daughter. She was the youngest of 3, only a few months older than Theo. 

“Alright go on, but stay on the grass,” You call after him as he pulls away from you, little legs carrying him towards the red headed toddler. Piper notices his running, and jumps up and down tugging on her mothers dress. Maira says something to her and she runs up to Theo, pulling him over to the grass on the edge of the street. Threry sink into the grass, plucking flowers from the ground and making them into a pile.

“Hey” Maria greets you as you walk up to the group. A few other parents giving you a small wave.

“Hi,” You smile, shifting Hope higher on your hip.

“Hello Little Missy,” Maria greets Hope, her hands coming to snatch her from you. She settles Hope on her hip, Hopes hands playing with the beaded necklace she wears. ‘How’ve you been? Have they come home yet?”

“Not yet,” you shake your head and Maria reaches out, her hand squeezing your arm lightly.

“I’m sorry, love, hopefully they’ll be home soon,” she gives you a reassuring smile.

“I hope so,” you run your hand through your hair. “The past few weeks have been a lot.” 

“You look tired, if you need anything let me know,” Maria pats your arm. “I’ll watch this little cutie for you any day, and Piper had been begging for Theo to come over and play. Maybe we can set up a playdate for them later this week? I can take them for a few hours and you can get some rest.” 

Your eyes water, Maria was always so kind to you. She knew what it was like to have a husband who was gone alot. Her own husband worked a lot overseas in the states, she would often just stop over with a meal for your family when she knew the guys were gone. 

“Oh hun, don’t cry.” She whispers, pulling you towards her. Her arms wrapping around your shoulders, Hope smushed between you two as she embraced you.

“Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you wipe at the tears that collect on your lower lash line.

“Don’t apologize, you’ve got a lot on your plate, I’ get overwhelmed with 3, I can’t imagine 5. Kids are a lot of work, and it’s not like they’re sitting in an office somewhere like my Michael. They’re out god knows where putting their lives on the line. I at least get the comfort of knowing Michael is in a hotel room each night safe. I couldn’t imagine not knowing where my husband was, if he was alright. And you have not 1 but 4 people to worry about.” Her hand rests on your shoulder, the warmth from her palm seeping through the fabric of your shirt.

“I know, I just feel so stupid being upset by it. It’s been almost 8 years of dealing with it. I mean god, I’ve been with them since I was 18,” you sniffle, taking a deep breath.

“8 years is a long time, they’ve been your safe place for most of your adult life. It’s hard to not know when you’ll get that security back. No one is judging you for having a hard time.” She adjusts Hope in her arms, switching her to the other hip. She studies you for a moment, before she leans in. “If there’s something you need to talk to me about, I’m a pretty good secret keeper.” Her eyes drift to your stomach before she looks back at your face. A suggestive smile on her lips.

“Oh, no! No!” You wave your hands in the air. “That’s not it at all, I haven’t even gotten my period back since Hope stopped breastfeeding. Soon hopefully,” you laugh, as the bus pulls up to the end of the street. 

“Okay..” Maria hums, handing your youngest back to you. Theo runs over to you grabbing your leg as he watches the bus doors open. A few neighborhood kids get off before you 3 do. Joseph spots you first, his black backpack over one shoulder, he runs over. Kira and Isla follow. 

“Are they home yet Mama?” Joseph asks, hope flaring in his blue eyes. Blue eyes that looked exactly like Johnny’s. 

“Not yet Babe, soon though,” you pat his head, running your fingers through his short brown hair. 

“It’s okay Mama,” he sighs, a frown on his lips as he shrugs his backpack up higher. Isla skips over, her bright pink sneakers lighting up.

“C’mon Theo I'll race you home!” Isla teases her younger brother, and they both take off. Isla clearly lets Theo stay ahead of her, she steps far shorter than normal.

“Stay on the side of the road please! And where I can see you!” You call after them. Kira and Joseph walk next to you. Both of them are unusually quiet on the walk home. Isla coaches Theo on stopping at each mailbox on the way back to the house. Always looking over her shoulder to make sure you weren't far behind.

“Everything okay?” You ask, bumping your hip into Kira’s shoulder.

Her blonde hair has started to come loose from her braid, stray tendrils of hair falling into her face. She shrugs slightly, kicking at a rock with her shoe.

“Someone said that we’re weird because we have 4 Dads and that there's no way we could have 4 dads that three of them aren't really our dads.” Joseph chimes in, swinging Hope's hand back and forth, as he walks next to you.

“That's not true, your fathers are most definitely your dads. They all love you,” you frown.

“But it’s true isn't it? I'm Daddy’s and Joseph is Da’s, Theo is Dad’s, and Hope and Isla are Papas… That's why my hair is blonde like Daddy’s and Theo’s skin is brown like Dads. Joseph, Isla and Hope all have blue eyes and brown hair because Da and Papa have brown hair and blue eyes,” Kira crosses her arms over her chest, one hand playing a strand of her blonde hair.

“Yes, you’re right about that. You may look like Daddy, but who reads you a story every night when he's home?” You touch her shoulder gently as you reach your driveway.

“Dad does,” She looks up at you with furrowed brows. 

“And who makes you whatever you want for breakfast on sunday morning?”

“Papa…” she trails off.

“And who gives you the best hugs when you’re sad? Besides me of course.” You smile,

“Da..”

“And who plays whatever game you want, whenever you want?”

A smile forms on her lips, “daddy.” 

“And all of those things are what Fathers do for their kids right?” You ask, setting Hope down in the front yard and she takes off towards Theo and Isla.

“Mhmm..” she stands in front of you, as you crouch down. Your hands holding hers, giving them a soft squeeze.

“So just because you might be Daddy’s kid biologically, doesn't mean your fathers don't love any less, or love any of the other kids more. All of them love so much, and they would do anything for any of you guys. They are no less your dad just because you don't have the same blood type or the same hair color. Because family isn't about who you’re related to, it's about who loves you. If you were to ask any of them how many kids they had, they would say they have 5 beautiful, smart, kind and caring kids. Kids they love more than anything in the entire world, and nothing will ever change that. A lot of people have more than one Mom or dad. You remember Sophie right, she used to live down the street before she moved.” You gently tuck some of the loose hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, Sophie had two Moms because her Dad married someone else after her mom died,” She nods a small smile on her lips.

“So see, people can have more than one or dad, because all that matters is that they love you. So next time someone is mean to you, you just remember that your fathers love you so much, Kira. And nothing will ever change that.” You pull her to you and hug her, her arms wrapping around your neck. Her blonde hair tickles your cheek as she hugs you tight. Over her shoulder you watch as Hope chews on Islas backpack strap, Theo and Isla rolling around in the grass, Isla doing forward rolls and Theo trying to copy his older sister. Joseph watches you and Kira from the front steps. A smile forming on his lips, as you smile at him.

Your poor sensitive boy had been worried about Kira, he didn't like it when she was upset. Even as a baby whenever Kira would cry his little body would stiffen up, all his muscles tense until someone comforted her. For the longest time you had them sleeping in the same cot. When you tried to separate them they screamed and cried. You had been worried about safe sleep, insisting that they sleep separately. It was Kyle who suggested putting them in the same cot. After 5 days of little to no sleep you finally caved, and as soon as you laid Kira next to Joseph they both drifted off instantly. Little bodies pressed against each other. 

It made sense, when you thought about it. They had only ever known life with another person stuck to their side. They couldn't understand why it had changed when they were born.

Now looking at your almost 8 year olds your heart aches. You loved them fiercely and the thought of people giving them a hard time about their dads made you crazy. Why couldn’t people just leave it alone, it’s not like you were hurting anyone. Your lifestyle didn’t cause anyone harm, no one was dead because you had four husbands.

There wasn't some catastrophic event that would happen because you found happiness in the arms of four men. 

“Okay, Mama,” Kira pulls back slightly so there's some distance between you two. “Can we get pizza for dinner?” 

You can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you, and you give her a small nod. “Sure Baby, let's all go inside. I’ll help you with your homework and then we’ll order pizza.” 

Your back rests against Theos bedroom door, your ass went numb an hour ago. He had stopped crying, the camera app pulled up on your phone showing him laying across his bed, little legs hanging off his bed. His mouth opens as he snores softly.  

After dinner it was a shit show. Hope threw up all her pizza, Theo decided to draw on the walls, Kira and Joseph got in a huge screaming match over whose turn it was to pick a movie. And Isla had accidentally run into the glass cabinet in the dining room and broke it, earning herself a small cut on her hand. 

Your night ended with Theo throwing the world's longest tantrum because his Papa still wasn't home to tuck him in. 

You weren't sure how much more of this you could take. Your entire body hurt, your head pounded with each beat of your heart. Every muscle felt like you went 10 rounds with Simon. Your head knocks softly against the door, as you look up at the white ceiling of the hallway. 

It was almost 2 in the morning and despite how bone crushingly tired you were, you couldn't find it in you to get up. To crawl into your massive bed and lay there, missing your men. Sleeping alone for most people was a luxury, especially for someone who had as big of a bed as yours. But to you, the empty bed with more pillows and blankets than one person could need was a constant reminder that they weren't home. 

You had tried calling their cell phones earlier, knowing that it would just go straight to voicemail. You had just needed to hear their voices, hoping it would give you the strength to get through the night. 

Tears prick the back of your eyes, your throat constricting with emotion. You missed them so much it was starting to physically hurt. You could feel the hole in your chest growing with each passing day. You couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, and they started to fall rapidly. Your breathing turns harsh and rapid as you fold over on yourself. Hands gripping your knees as you sob. Your spine digs into the hard wood of the door behind you, but you barely notice. The physical discomfort is no match for the bone deep ache in your heart. Each breath is like a million tiny needles embedding into your lungs as you struggle to pull in oxygen. 

Your soft sobs echo through the hallway, and you’re honestly surprised you haven’t woken one of your children. Pulling your bottom lip between your teeth you bite back a scream that threatens to rip from you. Your vision becomes spotty as you hyperventilate, and eventually it becomes too much and you drift off into a dreamless sleep.

Warm hands, soft voices, the smell of jasmine and vanilla. Another set of hands, these ones larger. A different scent, one of gunpowder and leather. 

“C’mon Darling, open your beautiful eyes,” a gruff voice coaxed.

John.

“She’s not runnin’ a fever…” another voice, this one laced with an accent.

Johnny.

“Baby? Can you hear us?” A warm palm brushes over your forehead.

Kyle.

“Give her a minute, the poor thing looks exhausted.”

Simon.

Your eyes flutter open and you blink at the harsh overhead light from the ceiling fan over your bed. People swim at the edges of your vision and you rub your eyes, trying to focus. When you pull your hands away from your eyes, you have a sudden feeling of Deja vu. Four sets of eyes peer down at you. Two sets of blue, two sets of brown. 

“There you are,” John's lips tip up in a small smile.

“I’m not dead right?” You whisper, voice hoarse. 

“No, Baby, you’re alive,” Kyle laughs slightly, his warm hand coming to brush along your cheek. You lean into his hand, the warmth from his fingers seeping into the skin of your cheek. You look at the others, they’re still wearing their fatigues, you push yourself up onto your elbows. 

“When did you get home?” You ask, your gaze landing on Simon. He stands against the wall opposite your bed. Eyebrows furrowed as he watched you like a hawk.

 “20 minutes ago,” Johnny answers, slipping onto the bed next to you, he pulls you towards him. He cradles you against his chest, his lips brushing your cheek.

“You were asleep outside Theo’s door, you look exhausted Darling,” John puts his boonie hat on the dresser, and pulls his gun out of the waistband of his pants. He walks over, shoving Johnny over for a second to grabs his as well. John disappears into the walk-in closet and you can hear the beep of the electronic lock for their gun safe. 

“Oh…” you murmur as Johnny tucks you under his chin, his hands rubbing up and down your sides.

“I take things have been rough?” Kyle sits on the other side of you. As if on cue, the baby monitor for Theo’s room screeches to life. 

“Mama!!! I want Papa!!” Theo’s little voice crackles over the monitor.

John pokes his head out of the closet, wearing a T-shirt and sweatpant. “That’s my cue,” he mutters, walking over to the bed and dropping a kiss to your head. He slips from the room, and a moment later you hear Theo’s bedroom door open.

“Papa?” Theo’s voice is small and sleepy.

“Hi buddy, you looking for me?” John says quietly.

Simon reaches forward and switches off the monitor. Before he disappears into the closet to change as well.

“Missed you Mo Chridhe..” Johnny kisses your shoulder and hair.

“Not as much as I missed all of you,” you smile, grabbing Kyle’s hand and squeezing softly.

“Go change MacTavish, you’re gonna ruin my sheets,” Simon grunts. “Stop hogging the wife too,” he crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at you and Johnny. 

Johnny sighs and climbs off the bed and Simon slips into his spot, pulling you basically on top of him. His lips press to the side of your head as he anchors his arms around your waist. You look at his face, the dark circles under his eyes and a new cut through his eyebrow. Every muscle in his body is tense. You feel like you’re cuddling a rock wall more than your husband.

Kyle heads into the bathroom leaving you and Simon alone for a few moments. You rest your head on his large chest, his heart beating frantically against his ribs.

“It’s okay Si… you’re home now.. you can relax,” you gently rub your fingers over his jaw. The muscles twitching under your fingers.

He lets out a long breath, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he presses his mouth to yours. He pours everything into the kiss, his worries, his anxiety, the love he feels for you. He leaves you breathless as he pulls back.

“Get some sleep, Lovie. You need it.” Simon lets you go slightly so you can settle into your spot in the middle of the bed. Kyle flicks the light switch off and climbs in behind Simon, his arm over Simon’s body and resting on your hip. A few seconds later Johnny slips into bed facing you, his hand grabbing yours.your eyes grow heavy as he settles the blankets over you. The soft click of the bedroom door, followed by a slight shift in the mattress as John climbs in, the last thing you remember before you drift off to sleep.

You wake the next morning, bed empty, and you sit up. Did you dream of them coming home?

You glance around the room, but when your eyes settle on John’s boonie hat and Simon’s skull balaclava sitting on the dresser, you know you didn’t.

Slipping from the bed you change into a pair of leggings and a top, quickly brushing your teeth. You can hear laughter from the floor below as you walk down the hall. All the kids' bedroom doors are open, and the scent of pancakes floats up the stairs.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look, this one looks like a smiley face!” Joseph laughs.

“Nice job bud, can you make another?” Simon’s deep voice replies.

You round the corner and pause in the doorway, Theo is snuggled up on John’s chest, as John sits in a chair. His large hands rubbed the four year olds back.

Hope sits in her high chair, Kyle perched on the edge of the table as he rips up a pancake for her. Her tiny hands are grabbing the pieces faster than he can place them. 

Kira and Isla are sitting with Johnny at the table eating, their faces covered in sticky syrup, chocolate from the pancakes on their fingers.

“Hi Mama!” Joseph is the first to notice you, your shadowy figure at the edge of the doorway. All eyes snap to you, your children smiling before going back to what they were doing. Your husbands regard you for a few extra moments. Gaz only momentarily before Hope smacks her hands on her tray, demanding the man in front of her rip her pancake faster. 

John smiles at you over Theo’s head, his head tipping towards the full coffee pot. He knew you well, the first thing you needed in the morning was a caffeine fix. Johnny watches as you walk to the coffee pot, pouring yourself a cup and adding all your favorite mix ins. 

“Did ya sleep well?” He asks, wiping syrup from the table with a wet cloth.

“I did, best I’ve slept in awhile actually,” you hold the warm mug between your hands. You peer over the kitchen island where Simon is standing with Joseph making pancakes. He pours the batter onto the hot griddle before Joseph carefully drops various toppings into it. Blueberries for some, and chocolate chips for others.

“What kind do you want mama?” The boy asks, a smile on his lips as he shoves a stray chocolate chip into his mouth.

“I’m okay baby, thank you,” you walk over kissing his cheek before stretching up on your toes to kiss Simon’s. Simon’s brown eyes flicker over to you, but he doesn’t say anything just observing you.

You slide into a bar stool and watch as they continue to make stacks of pancakes. Once they are out of batter Simon plates two pancakes for Joseph, steering him in the direction of the table for him to eat. You raise your mug to your lips taking a small sip of your coffee. Your nose scrunching as the liquid slides over your tongue. Your stomach rolls slightly as you take another sip. You set the mug down on the counter, looking up to see Simon once again watching you. His hands held the empty bowl of pancake batter. 

“Something wrong with the coffee?” He inquires and you swear his eyes can see right through to your very soul. 

“I think the cream might be bad,” you push the mug away from you. Suddenly John’s hand is wrapping around the mug and he takes a sip. He’s quiet for a moment before he sets the cup down.

“Kira, Joseph, Isla, get ready for school,” John looks over at the kids who are staring at all of you. They quickly scramble from the room. Their footsteps race up the stairs as they run to their rooms to change.

“When did you find out?” He asks, and you look up at him puzzled.

“What?” 

“You don’t have to hide it, baby. We weren’t kidding when we said it before we left.” Kyle pulls Hope from her high chair and comes to stand around the counter with the other two.

“Said what?” You look between Simon, Kyle and John, your eyes flickering between them all. Johnny comes over, dropping the kids plates into the large sink.

“About wanting another bairn,” he crosses his arms over his chest. A smirk on his face as he looks at you.

“I’m not pregnant.” You blurt out, running your hands over your face. When you pull your hands from your face they’re all staring at you with doubtful looks on their faces. “I’m not!” 

“The only time you don’t like coffee is when you’re pregnant,” Simon states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“When was your last period?” Kyle asks, shifting Hope up higher in his arms.

“I haven’t gotten one since Hope stopped breastfeeding, that’s normal though,” you cross your arms over your chest.

“Did you not learn anything the last time you thought that?” Johnny laughs, and you cheeks flame. Okay so maybe they had a point, the last time you didn’t get a period after you stopped breastfeeding was when you got pregnant with Isla 3 months after the twins were born. 

“Sod off,” you grumble, getting off the stool and storming up the stairs. 

“Lovie! Don’t be like that, we aren’t mad!” Simon calls after you, but you don’t miss the laughter in his voice. 

“I’ll prove you wrong! Just gimme a moment!” You slam the bathroom door closed, and drop to your knees in front of the bathroom vanity. You pull out baskets of random items. Gauze, kids hair brushes, extra tooth paste, a Barbie doll that went missing months ago. A half used box of tissues, and more. You finally spot what you’re looking for, a box of digital pregnancy tests you kept in the back of the vanity.

You don’t bother shoving anything back under the vanity, as you quickly pee on the test strip and put the blue plastic cover on. You jog back down the stairs, the test in your hand as you place it on the counter in front of them. The little digital screen blinks, the bars creeping ever so slow as you give each of them a glare. 

John puts Theo on the floor and the 4 year old runs off, his own tiny feet going up the stairs as he goes to find his siblings. Kyle sets Hope on the counter, and she smacks the countertop with her hands, laughing at the sound that echoes through the quiet kitchen. 

“Darling, we want as many children as you’ll give us,” John reaches over and flips the test over so no one can see the digital screen. 

“We already have 5, how many more could we possibly need?” You sit on the bar stool, as Simon hands Hope 2 wooden spoons for her to play with. She shoves one in her mouth and waves the other around, almost smacking Gaz in the face. 

“I’d like 3 more,” Johnny answers, leaning his forearms against the counter. 

“8 Children total?” You stare at him, unable to wipe the slightly horrified look off your face. “You realize that there would be 13 people in our family at that point right?” 

“What's got you shaken up Mo Chridhe?” he frowns at you.

“I-I don't know if i can handle 8 kids alone….” You whisper, your voice shaking.

You could barely keep the 5 you had already alive when they were gone. Add in 3 more and you were sure you weren't going to survive. But you loved your children, and had always wanted a huge family. It was something you dreamed of as a child, and you knew how much each of your husbands adored the children. Were you really ready to never have a newborn baby again? Never experience the first time a baby smiles or laughs. Your gaze flickers to Hope, as she sits on the counter top, drool trailing down her chin as she gnaws on the wooden spoon. Kyle watches her, a smile on his face as she smiles at him. 

“We talked a lot on this last deployment, and we agreed we would be stepping back a lot,” John comes to stand behind your chair, his hands rubbing up and down your back.

“But you’re the best at what you do… I’d feel terrible if something catastrophic happened because you were home instead of where you were needed.” You look between the 3 of them in front of you.

“Love, here is where we’re needed,” Simon frowns.

“We’ve been doing this for a long time, longer than most task forces. It’s about time we think about passing the baton to another task force anyways. We’ve been talking with Laswell and she’d sent us some files of teams she thinks would be a good fit. We would train them, and we would still be working on base. But we wouldn't be deploying as much, only when we were really needed.” Kyle adds.

“We’ve been asked to help train and teach new recruits, we’ve got a lot of experience in the field, and it's helpful for them to learn from people who have been out there, seen what we have. We’ll still be doing what we love, but we’ll get to come home to our family every night. You won't have to worry if we’ll be coming back every time we walk out the door. You’d get the help with the children, and we’d get to see them more. Spend time with them. We’ve missed a lot over the years and we don't want to miss anymore.” Simon runs hand through his blonde hair, and your eyes fill with tears. 

“You’re not just doing it for me right? You want to step back right?” You look over your shoulder at John. 

“You’re part of the reason, but we’ve all taken a beating over the years. And it was getting time for us to retire anyways, we’re just doing it a few years earlier. But trust us Darling, we want to be home. Being out there doesn't give us the same thrill it did years ago. Being here, with you, that's what we look forward to.” John runs his fingers through your hair, and you nod. 

“Okay,” you breathe, your eyes falling to the flipped over test. 

“No matter what it says, we’ll be okay,” Kyle reaches across the table and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. 

“What do you want it to say?” Simon asks, drawing your attention to him. 

You chew your bottom lip, what did you want it to say?

You were happy with the 5 beautiful children you had. The twins, Isla, Theo and Hope, they were amazing children and you loved watching them everyday. But your family didn't feel complete. You didn't feel done, your heart still longed for more.You loved how close the kids you had now were, they were never alone, they always had someone to play with. And when the time came and none of you were around, they would still have each other. 

“I want more,” you finally answer, and all 4 of the men in your life smile. 

“Even if it's negative, we’ll keep trying okay?” John kisses the top of your head. Taking one last deep breath you reach forward and pick up the test. You look at all of them as they wait for you to flip it over. 

Your hands shake slightly as you flip over the little blue test, 5 sets of eyes peer down at the small screen. 

‘Pregnant, 3+’ stares back at you. 

Johnny is the first to move as he nearly climbs over Kyle and John to get to you. His arms wrap around your waist as he pulls you from the chair, and spins you around. His face is buried in your neck as he holds you tight. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he mumbles as he presses his lips to yours. 

“Get out of the way MacTavish,” John grumbles as he pulls you from Soap and into his arms, he presses a kiss to your lips as well. “I love you, thank you for giving us another.

“You don't have to thank me,” You laugh as you kiss him back.

Kyle is next, his hands settling on your waist as he pulls you in, his lips finding yours. “We do, because you’ve already given us 5, and we would never ask for more if it wasn't what you wanted.” 

Simon is the last, he pulls you in, his large hands on your hips as he leans down, his forehead bumping yours as you share a breath there. “You sure this is what you want?” He asks softly, you can hear the others move about the kitchen. Kyle takes Hope to put her shoes on. John and Soap call up the stairs for the older children to get their backpacks as they slip their lunchboxes into them.

“I’m sure,” you smile, “I want this.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Simon presses a kiss to your mouth before he hugs you tight. You wrap your arms around him, leaning your head on his chest. 

The sounds of footsteps running down the stairs pull you away, Isla, Kira, and Joseph file into the kitchen, their backpacks on, all dressed for school.

“We’re ready, can we all go to the bus stop this morning?” Joseph asks, looking between you and Simon.

“Sure bud, let me just put my shoes on,” you smile, you walk down the hall to grab your shoes and pull them on. The rest of your family waits, as you tie your sneakers.  John holds Hope in his arms, Simon holds Theo’s hand, Johnny and Kyle head out the door first. The children followed. You fall in step in the middle of your group, it was warm today. Warmer than normal for this time of year, but you didn't mind it. Although the unusual warmth usually brought thunderstorms. 

Those you weren’t too fond of. 

As you approach the bus stop you see the normal group of parents waiting with their children. Maria stands next to her two older boys standing with a group of friends, Piper sits on the grass, her little head lifting as you all approach. She waves enthusiastically to Theo, and Theo pulls away from Simon. Running as fast as his little legs will carry him to his friend. They sit in the grass, building a stack of rocks to see who can get it higher. 

Maria looks at you, a giant smile on her face as she sees your husband’s with you. 

“I see they came back!” she exclaims, as you and the others stop a few steps from her.

“Pleasure to see you again Maria,” John hugs her.

“Glad you made it back,” she smiles, hugging each of them, even Simon who stiffly hugs her back.

“We’ll be around a lot more,” Johnny smiles, his arm snaking around your waist as he pulls you into his side. 

“Oh?” Maria looks at them.

“We’re stepping back, we have much more important things here,” John explains, and Maria nods.

“I’m glad you’ll be around more,” she eyes you suspiciously. “Are you still going to tell me I'm wrong?” She gives you a pointed look.

“Ma- y- how does everyone always know before me! It's my bloody body.” You grumble, and Soap laughs. 

“We know what to look for,” Kyle kisses the side of your head.

“I just knew because even though you looked knackered, you still looked like you were glowing,” Maria laughs.

“Simon figured it out because of my coffee,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I'm happy for you, dear. If you need anything let me know. Although I wonder how you’ll fit another in that house of yours. You’re quickly outgrowing it,” Maria adds as the bus pulls up. The older children all race off to get onto it, and wave you as they all climb on. 

“We haven't figured that much out yet,” you shrug, “I'm sure we’ll think of something.”

“I’m sure you will,” she hugs you. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” you hug her back.

“C’mon Theo! Time to go,” Simon calls and the small boy hugs his friend before he races over. 

You wave again to Maria and begin the walk back to the house, Hope having fallen asleep in John's arms. Her brown hair falling into her face as she sleeps peacefully. You look between the four men that walk with you.

“What are we going to do about the room… we don't have any more bedrooms.” You place your hand on your still flat stomach. How long did you have to prepare?

Where would you even put a baby? 

Isla still had her own room, and sure you could move Theo into there, but he still wasn't a good sleeper and you didn't want to ruin her sleep by him waking up. 

You could move the new baby into Hope's room with her but it might still cause problems with how frequently new babies wake up. She would be almost three and a half by the time the baby was going to be ready for their own room. And you certainly were going to need a bigger dining room table to be able to fit everyone. 

“We can always move, we’ve talked about moving in the past. Wanting to get out into the countryside more.  It would be a good time to buy right now anyways, interest rates are low. And I'm sure there’s something out in the rural parts that would be plenty big enough for us, and we can always add on. We don't really have enough land with the current house to add on, we’d be building too close to the neighbors.” John explains, as you get to the end of your driveway.

You stare at your house, you’ve been in it for 5 years, having moved in when you were pregnant with Isla, a month before she was due. The twins were still babies themselves. You loved the house, but it was too small for such a large family. With only 5 bedrooms, and 3 bathrooms it was becoming crowded. Your kitchen, although big enough for now, wasn't going to be able to accommodate everyone for much longer. And you always wanted a house with lots of land for the kids to play in. You had a decent sized yard now but it was nowhere near big enough for the swingset the kids kept asking for. 

And it wasn't like it was a small house. It had almost 3000 sqft, but when you have 5 children and one (possibly 2) on the way. You needed something bigger. Something with room to grow. 

“Okay, we’ll start looking at listings.” 

“So we’re gonna move?” Simon confirms.

“We’re moving,”

Next:

[cyanide-mustard]

I don't have the words to describe (how much you mean to me) Chapter 2

Also on Ao3

Summary:

James, Viktor and Jayce go to the library

Notes:

AN: My hope with not including the translations until the end is to make readers just as confused as Jayce and Viktor. Thank you to my wonderful friend who helped me edit this! I cannot spell for the life of me and I am trying my best! I will be updating every week sometime from Thursday to Saturday. Also, Piltovian slippers are just Crocs

Viktor and Jayce’s apartment (formerly just Viktor’s, until Jayce moved in and never seemed to move out) was a small two-bedroom apartment with a bathroom and kitchen. Most of the apartment was not used fully; it was less of a home and more of a landing pad, given how much time the two men spent at the lab. Based on this fact, one would assume the apartment would be slightly empty with how much time they didn’t spend there.

This was not the case.

Stepping through the door, the state they had left the apartment in, made its way into the boys’ consciousness. The kitchen had at least twenty dishes in the sink, dried and just waiting to be put away, a mixture of tea mugs and water glasses on the counter and a very sad-looking pantry. The only saving grace for the kitchen was that Jayce and Viktor agreed when they first started living together, that they would never leave dirty dishes and food out, lest their haven from work turn into a haven for rats. The living room on the other hand was filled with loose sheets of paper, scrolls, and piles of books almost taller than Viktor on nearly every surface.

The two men scrambled to make their home more presentable for their unexpected guest, who wore a sly grin on her face at seeing their rush.

“It’s normally cleaner than this” Jayce said to James.

“No, it is not, do not lie to her” Viktor chimes in.

“She doesn’t even know what I’m saying!”

“Yes, but she can sense the tone” Viktor mused, locking eyes with James whose grin disappeared into a soft blush. Her eyes averted his to take in the room once more.

It took a moment for Jayce to realize that they had both left her standing in the doorway. Quickly, he turned back, extending his hand toward her. Her gaze flicked from his eyes to his outstretched hand, hesitating before lightly placing hers in his. He guided her inside, leading her to the couch. He disappeared into a room only to reappear with a toothbrush but promptly went back in after he placed the item on the table. Jayce continued like that a couple more times. Bringing stuff out which he deemed necessary for James, to only forget another thing and rush back to grab it.

While he did that, Viktor moved the few books lying on the couch, onto the floor. He watched James as she struggled to stay awake, eyes closing only to flutter back open before repeating the same cycle. Viktor grabbed the pillow Jayce had placed on the table and put it on the end of the couch, guiding James down to it before laying a blanket over the top of her sleeping form.

Viktor watched her as he waited for Jayce to rush out again. Her furrowed brow and the lines around her eyes and mouth, all the signs of stress from the day, melted off her face as she fell into deeper sleep.

Jayce returned again, still in a semi-frantic rush to make sure the woman had everything she needed when he felt Viktor’s hand on his shoulder. He looked at his partner and then to the sleeping woman on the couch. Jayce ran a hand over his face. It was then that Viktor looked at what he was holding in his hand.

“A loofah Jayce, really?”

“I don’t know, what if she wanted to shower?!”

Viktor looked at the man with an amused grin. Watching his partner run around like a headless chicken was funny but his determination to make sure this woman was comfortable and had everything she needed was exactly the type of sweet thing Jayce would do.

“She can shower in the morning if she would like, for now, she can sleep. Who knows what she has gone through” Viktor said as the two started walking towards their room.

“How are we going to help her? She doesn’t speak any language I’ve ever heard and it’s not like we can just get her a tutor. People will start asking questions about where she’s from and we already decided that’s not an option”

“We will have to keep her a secret for now. We will help her where we can. There are sure to be a couple of books at the library about teaching languages. When we go tomorrow we will find one” Viktor reassuringly told Jayce. However, he wasn’t sure this reassured him too.

“We’ll find a way to get her home,” Jayce said determinedly “We just might need a lot more caffeine to figure out how”

Viktor chuckled as they made their way into bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The smell of coffee in the morning was one of Jayce’s favourite smells. Moreover, it was more what the smell meant. It meant one of two things. One he was about to drink what he considered the nectar of gods (Viktor thinks Jayce is dramatic). And two, his sweet wonderful boyfriend was awake and they would start their day together. However, as he gained more awareness of his surroundings, he realised the other man was right beside him, his arm still curled up around him.

“Vitya” he whispered in the other man’s ear.

“Mmh” Viktor responded less than fully conscious

“V, I think someone broke in”

Viktor opened an eye at this

“Why would anyone break into our house? We have nothing to steal”

“Well I smell coffee and you’re here so who else could it be”

“Yes I am sure someone broke into our apartment to drink our shitty coffee”

Jayce rolled his eyes at his sarcastic retort. Getting out of bed to investigate the smell. As he walked forward he picked up a small paperweight.

“Oh yes I am sure our intruders will be very scared of you now”

“Are you going to help me or are you just gonna sit there and heckle me”

He huffed before trailing behind the taller man.

They opened the door, looking around the living room, seeing three sets of plates with eggs, bacon and toast along with three mugs of fresh coffee. The two men relaxed slightly seeing as there was no intruder, until the door to the bathroom opened. Jayce lifted the paperweight.

“AHHHHHHH” “AHHHHHHH” “𝜩𝝺𝝺𝝺𝝺𝝺𝝺𝝺𝝺𝝺”

They all screamed as James exited the bathroom.

“Oh my god it’s just you” Jayce said with a breath of relief

“𝝣𝜓𝞏𝞒𝞏, 𝛴𝝠𝞖’𝞔 𝞏𝝃𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝜩 𝝋𝛃𝞀𝟄 𝟄𝛃𝝥𝜓 𝞔𝝺𝜩𝞔!”

As they all took a moment to recover, the two men noticed James’ appearance. She was no longer wearing her torn clothes, instead a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants Jayce had left out the night before. Her hair was also damp indicating she took a shower, which seemed to do her good as the dirt and stress washed away leaving her face looking brighter and younger than it had last night. She grabbed their hands and led them to the small table where the food laid.

“𝜣𝞀𝜓𝜩𝝥𝝇𝜩𝞏𝞔” she motioned to the plates “𝞔𝝺𝜩𝞖𝝥 𝞾𝝠𝞒”

“Thank you” Viktor smiled softly

“Thank you James” Jayce said from beside him.

“𝞔han𝝥 yo𝞒” James tested the word on her tongue and tried again “Thank you”

They sat down and started their meals as they watched James finish what was left on her already half-eaten plate and open up her notebook. When she turned the notebook around to show the two men, they saw that many of the pages were already filled out with lists, pictures, diagrams and schedules.

“Looks like you won’t be keeping your stash for long V”

She drew their attention closer to a set of detailed pictures. The first was a picture of them at the library, followed by pictures that seemed to detail James learning more and more of Piltovian. The final three images detailed the three of them making a machine, a portal opening and then James disappearing.

The boys took a big breath of relief, extremely grateful that at least one of the three of them seemed to know what they were doing.

“Okay library first, James can grab what she needs, then I’ll bring her back here, while you go to the Kiramman’s and grab clothes” Viktor said to the two.

“Library?” James asked.

“Yes,” Jayce confirmed.

She stood. Rushing over to the door and putting on the slightly too small slippers Viktor had lent her last night in order to get home.

“Jayce, we should also buy her a pair of shoes. I do not think she will enjoy walking everywhere in mine”

“I’ll do that after the library,” He said as he walked over to James and put one of his satchels across her shoulder.

Viktor and Jayce quickly finished washing the dishes (Remember! Haven from work, not a haven for rats!) and made their way to James, who was trying to hold in her anticipation. They left the house, Jayce locking the door behind him.

In the light of day, all of Piltover was open to see and from beside the two men, James was buzzing with excitement. Her eyes moved all around taking in the stores, people and buildings. As much as she seemed to want to explore, she never left her spot in between Jayce and Viktor. She paid extra attention to one of the bakeries with a large display of Piltover’s sweet delicacies.

When they finally arrived at the library, James’ breath was taken away by the interior which had shelves that never seemed to stop and then when it looked like it was over there were staircases leading both up and down. Viktor let out a chuckle at her face of awe. He guided her down to the languages section. It would be difficult for James to find material that suited her given that her language seemed to be one that had never seen Piltover. They started picking out books that looked like they would be beginner-friendly; the pile in all their arms growing.

The wonderful thing about Jayce and Viktor is when they get into a task they put their whole concentration into it. The bad thing about Jayce and Viktor is that when they get into a task they put their whole concentration into it. It was when Jayce went to show James a book and realized he couldn’t find her in the entire section.

“Viktor! She’s gone”

“What? Who’s gone?”

“James, She’s not here”

“No she is rig-” Viktor looked behind him. “I swear she was there two seconds ago”

“I looked already she’s not in this whole section”

Viktor passed the books in his arms off onto Jayce as he walked hurriedly off to other parts of the library. The two boys went from section to section quietly calling out her name until they got to the one part of the library they hadn’t checked yet. The children’s section. Viktor entered and started calling her name as loudly as he could in the library.

“𝑗𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠”

Almost immediately her head popped up from one of the small bookcases. He made his way closer to her

“Where did you go? We thought we lost you or something happened” Though James didn’t understand the words he was saying she seemed to understand the worry on his face clearly

“𝞏𝝠𝞀𝞀𝞾,” she said touching his upper forearm, not noticing his slight blush, she continued talking animatedly, “𝛃 𝝸𝜩𝞏 𝟄𝝠𝝠𝝥𝛃𝞖𝝋 𝝇𝝠𝞀 𝜣𝝠𝝠𝝥𝞏 𝝸𝛃𝞔𝝺 𝟇𝝠𝞀𝜓 𝝮𝛃𝝃𝞔𝞒𝞀𝜓𝞏 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝝥𝛃𝛴𝞏 𝜣𝝠𝝠𝝥𝞏 𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝝮𝜓𝞀𝝇𝜓𝝃𝞔! 𝞔𝝺𝜓𝞾 𝝺𝜩𝞃𝜓 𝞏𝛃𝟇𝝮𝟄𝜓 𝞃𝝠𝝃𝜩𝜣𝞒𝟄𝜩𝞀𝞾 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝞔𝝺𝜓 𝝋𝞀𝜩𝟇𝟇𝜩𝞀 𝛃𝞏𝞖’𝞔 𝞃𝜓𝞀𝞾 𝝃𝝠𝟇𝝮𝟄𝛃….”

When she looked up she noticed Viktor’s lost face and disappointment made itself apparent on her face. She pushed the feelings away for now as she pointed to a bunch of pictures in the kids’ books

“Of course. Books for kids would make it easier to understand because of the pictures” he realised

Jayce found them shortly after, relief clear on his face as he ran up and examined James’ face in his hands. Checking for any cuts or signs she had been hurt. Once he was satisfied he moved his hands and took a step back, rosy blush working its way onto his cheeks. Viktor smiled at his partner's actions and ensuing embarrassment.

“James was just looking for appropriate reading material” supplied Viktor, getting him up to speed on their recent adventure.

James grabbed the rest of the books, brows furrowing when she noticed the boys lack of books. They walked back to the pile of books they had left in the other section and made their way to check out. James piled book after book into the bag Jayce had given to her, then into Jayce’s bag and Viktor’s after. She still had to hold a couple in her arms on the way back home. Jayce had left them halfway on the return home as she and Viktor continued to the apartment.

Once in the door, she took off her shoes and raced to the couch, dropping all the books around her. Viktor moved to sit beside her as she started going over each letter in the alphabet, practicing

She pointed at the first letter, A, tapping it and looking at Viktor. He looked at her confused. She tapped a finger to her lips telling him she wanted him to make the sound of the letter. They went through the list, him sounding out the letters and her repeating after him until it sounded like how he said it.

After she was satisfied with her progress, she moved on to one of the vocab books with pictures. Viktor watched as she took a sticky pad and placed a note on the table, labelling it in Piltovian and her language. She looked at him, asking him silently if it was okay. When he nodded in response, she stood up getting to work placing the notes on objects all around the house. He watched her work and was reminded of the concentration Jayce and himself often displayed. When she looked up from her most recent labelling, Viktor was caught in his staring and quickly moved to open a book.

When Jayce returned home the first thing he saw was a sheet of paper stuck on the wall. It held a small drawing of three stick figures, two labelled Jayce and Viktor standing next to each other and a third labelled James standing further off to the side. He looked around the house and found many more images or sticky notes holding words written in a language he recognized and one he didn’t. When he looked to the couch, he saw Viktor and James sitting, the former reading and the latter intensely writing notes.

It took a second for the pair to notice that the taller man had returned home. When he reached the two, he passed two of the three bags he had been holding to her. She looked at him with a confused expression which Jayce just smiled and nodded at her to continue. She opened the first, which held various items of clothing, and the second, which carried a pair of shoes. He then passed her the third bag, she took out the box from inside and when she opened it, her eyes widened. Inside was a variety of pastries she had seen from the bakery they had walked past.

“Thank you!” She said genuinely

“You’re welcome” he smiled gently in response as he held a hand out. “Come with me”

She placed her hand in his as he guided her to the spare room, that once used to be Jayce’s.

“It’s yours” he said, taking the bags and placing them by the bed. “For James”

“𝟇𝛃𝞖𝜓?” she questioned “James?”

“Yes”

“Thank you,” she said as tears started to form in her eyes, overwhelmed by both of their kindness. She placed her hand on his upper forearm. “𝞾𝝠𝞒 𝛴𝝠𝞖’𝞔 𝝺𝜩𝞃𝜓 𝞔𝝠 𝛴𝝠 𝞔𝝺𝛃𝞏. Thank you”

He held her eyes for a second, trying to tell her words of comfort he couldn’t speak. They made their way back to the couch, the three of them quietly reading or working, James breaking the silence every now and then to ask them how to say a word. Warm comfort filled the room as they passed the afternoon like this.

Translations:

“𝝣𝜓𝞏𝞒𝞏, 𝛴𝝠𝞖’𝞔 𝞏𝝃𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝜩 𝝋𝛃𝞀𝟄 𝟄𝛃𝝥𝜓 𝞔𝝺𝜩𝞔” = “Jesus, Don’t scare a girl like that”, “𝜣𝞀𝜓𝜩𝝥𝝇𝜩𝞏𝞔” = “Breakfast”, Thank you = 𝞔𝝺𝜩𝞖𝝥 𝞾𝝠𝞒, “𝞏𝝠𝞀𝞀𝞾” = “Sorry”, “I was looking for books with more pictures and kids' books are perfect! They have simple vocabulary and the grammar isn’t very compli…. = 𝛃 𝝸𝜩𝞏 𝟄𝝠𝝠𝝥𝛃𝞖𝝋 𝝇𝝠𝞀 𝜣𝝠𝝠𝝥𝞏 𝝸𝛃𝞔𝝺 𝟇𝝠𝞀𝜓 𝝮𝛃𝝃𝞔𝞒𝞀𝜓𝞏 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝝥𝛃𝛴𝞏 𝜣𝝠𝝠𝝥𝞏 𝜩𝞀𝜓 𝝮𝜓𝞀𝝇𝜓𝝃𝞔! 𝞔𝝺𝜓𝞾 𝝺𝜩𝞃𝜓 𝞏𝛃𝟇𝝮𝟄𝜓 𝞃𝝠𝝃𝜩𝜣𝞒𝟄𝜩𝞀𝞾 𝜩𝞖𝛴 𝞔𝝺𝜓 𝝋𝞀𝜩𝟇𝟇𝜩𝞀 𝛃𝞏𝞖’𝞔 𝞃𝜓𝞀𝞾 𝝃𝝠𝟇𝝮𝟄𝛃…., 𝟇𝛃𝞖𝜓? = Mine?,“𝞾𝝠𝞒 𝛴𝝠𝞖’𝞔 𝝺𝜩𝞃𝜓 𝞔𝝠 𝛴𝝠 𝞔𝝺𝛃𝞏” = “You don’t have to do this” Lmk if the translations are too difficult/or compact to read and I can play with formatting.

Taglist:

@im-just-a-simp-le-whore

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Lonely Dancers

main masterlist | misc. jackles characters masterlist

SPOILERS! this story is set after the events of the movie and it (vaguely) spoils the ending

summary: when your boyfriend cheats on you, it leads you to tom hanniger

pairing: tom hanniger x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 1.7k

warnings: language, cheating, mentions of death/murder, hearing voices (briefly, very end of the fic)

author’s note: happy valentine’s day! i wrote (and barely edited) this very quickly because i wanted to publish it while it was still valentine’s day in my timezone! enjoy!

music: lonely dancers by conan gray — incredible song by an incredible artist! go pre-save the upcoming album!

Tears were still clouding your eyes as you sat at the bar. You’d driven here after walking in on your boyfriend with another woman—your two best friends had both betrayed you in the most gutwrenching way.

“Crappy Valentines?” the man a few seats down from you asked.

“Somethin’ like that,” you scoffed.

“Well–”

“Look no offense, but I’m really not in the mood to be hit on, okay? So kindly fuck off and let me drink in peace.”

He nodded curtly; “Ten-four.”

You finished the glass in front of you and gestured to the bartender for another. You downed that one quickly and again asked for another immediately after.

“Cheated on, huh?” the man from before asked and you finally turned to look at him. He had a small, sad smile on his plush, pink lips and his green eyes seemed to look at you with sympathy. 

“What makes you say that?” you asked.

“I, uh, I know the look,” he replied. “How about the next rounds are on me?” he offered, you smiled a little in thanks. “I’m Tom, by the way.” You told him your name, figuring it was the least you could do.

“So, Tom, I’m guessing your Valentine’s Day hasn’t been much better than mine?” you asked.

“What makes you say that?” he quoted you with a bit of a smirk.

“You’re drinking alone in a bar attached to a cheap-ass motel,” you retorted. 

“Touché,” he laughed. “So maybe my day’s been shitty too… or maybe I just came here to hit on the lonely hot chicks.”

You narrowed your gaze at him, stifling a laugh; “Maybe. But something tells me you came here for the booze and not the chicks.” His smile faded a little at that but he was quick to plaster it back onto his face. “So how about we drink together for a bit and when I’m buzzed enough we head over to the dance floor and act like our day hasn’t been hell?” you suggested. 

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”

You both got to talking and eventually, you told him the whole story. He held back most of the comments he wanted to make; hope he drops fuckin’ dead, for example, or who in their right mind would do that to such a gorgeous fuckin’ woman!?

“Well, he sounds like a major dick,” he commented. 

You listened to his story too, though he clearly wasn’t being as open with you as you were with him. But, you couldn’t blame him. His issue seemed to be about trauma linked to the actual day and less about something that happened recently.

After nearly half an hour of talking, he took your hand and led you to the beat-down jukebox in the corner.

“Does this shitty thing even work?” you scoffed. 

“Let’s hope it does or this dancing thing is gonna be pretty awkward,” he joked. He managed to get a song playing. “May I have this dance?” He turned from the jukebox and looked at you, but quickly noticed the tears welling in your eyes. “Shit, you okay?”

You sighed with a nod; “This was kind of… our song,” you admitted.

“Of all the songs for me to pick,” he scoffed quietly, mentally kicking himself. “I… don’t know how to switch it.”

“That’s okay,” you said softly, a sad smile gracing your lips though the tears stayed in your eyes.

“How about we dance to it anyway?” he offered. “That way it’ll become our song and the next time you hear it you won’t think of that cheating bastard, you’ll think of the somewhat good-looking guy you met while drinking yourself half to death?” He smirked and wiggled his brows a bit, making you let out a laugh. 

“Somewhat good-looking, huh? Have you looked in any kinda mirror recently?”

He shrugged, still smirking; “Didn’t wanna seem too cocky; had to downplay my looks a little, gauge your reaction.” You let him put his hands on your hips as you both started swaying to the music.

“That so?” You put your hands on his shoulders before you trailed them to the back of his neck. “And what’d my reaction tell you, handsome?”

“That this song is now officially ours,” he replied. “And every time you hear it you’re gonna remember my handsome face instead of that ugly asshole’s.”

“Thanks for that, Tom.” You smiled up at him, continuing to let him guide your movements. “I’d much rather think of you.”

You rested your head on his shoulder and his grip on your waist changed to wrap around your torso. The song was slow so he didn’t feel the need to change anything about the way you two were dancing—he just held you and gently swayed back and forth with the rhythm.

When the song ended the next one that played was more up-beat and “danceable” so you pulled away a little.

“Oh my god, I love this song!” you exclaimed, beginning to dance a more energetically while you still kept your hands on him.

He chuckled at your reaction and began dancing more too. His hands went back to your waist and he twirled you around. With your back pressed against his chest he turned up the heat a little; trailing his hands forward and up your body slowly. You smiled widely, enjoying the feeling of his touch over the thin fabric of your long-sleeved crop top. He twirled you back around, your hands catching your weight on his chest.

He looked down into your eyes; “Just thought I should gauge your reaction again.”

“And what’s it saying this time?” You smiled up at him, keeping your hands on his chest.

“That it might be okay if I kiss you right now?” 

You nodded before he leaned down to place a kiss on your eager lips. Before he could, however, your phone rang and you pulled back to check it.

“Damn it,” you mumbled, seeing the name.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Tom asked and you nodded. You were about to answer but he whipped the phone from your hands and hit decline. “Stop,” he said when you reached for the phone, “forget that guy! He clearly doesn’t know how to love a woman like you—someone so gorgeous, funny… talented dancer.” The last one made you laugh through the sting of fresh tears. “And I hope he drops fuckin’ dead! How about we just keep dancing so I don’t have to see those tears slip down your pretty face, huh?”

“Guess I’m all yours tonight,” you replied.

“That’s more like it!” He took you back into his arms before he kissed you. 

**

You woke up the next morning to the sound of someone knocking on your apartment door. You sighed and grabbed your pepper spray before going to answer it. When you looked through the peephole, however, you smiled and placed the weapon down on the table by your front entrance.

“Hey Tom, what’re you doing here?” You smiled after you opened the door. He held out the bouquet of roses he had been hiding behind his back.

“Happy belated Valentine’s Day,” he said. “I hope I made it a little less shitty for you and that you won’t hate this holiday the way I do.”

“Thank you,” you replied as you took them from him. You stepped aside so he could walk in. “I’m gonna find a vase for these, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”

He nodded and made his way to your couch. He knew the layout of your home and where you lived because he had driven you home last night (well, earlier that day, technically) and made sure you got inside safely. You had offered to let him spend the night but he had declined politely, saying that as much as he enjoyed your company he didn’t want the two of you to become a one-night-stand. “Besides,” he had said, “I’ve got something important I’ve gotta do.”

The idea that Tom’s ‘important thing’ may have been just getting you flowers made your heart swoon in a way that you’d never felt before.  

You hurried and put the flowers in a vase before you went over and sat next to Tom on the couch. He smiled at you before you turned on the TV.

“Wanna watch something?” you asked but your eyes widened when you looked at the screen; “Oh my god.”

“Two individuals brutally murdered last night…” the news reporter went on to say the names of your ex and his new girlfriend (your former best friend). “Officials say it was a robbery gone wrong, due to a missing engagement ring presumably still in the romantic, heart-shaped box it was purchased in barely two weeks ago from a local jeweler. No suspects are in custody—” 

Tom shut the TV off as tears began rolling down your cheeks.

“Th-They’re both dead…” you barely whispered. The thought of the two people you cared most about being killed for no fucking reason made a scream erupt from your throat. Tom pulled you into his chest and you sobbed, gripping his shirt with all your might.

“I-I’m so fucking sorry,” Tom whispered. 

**

After a (very long) session of tears and Tom’s gentle shushing, Tom was making breakfast in your kitchen as you sat at the table. 

“It could’ve been me,” you said. “I-If he hadn’t cheated on me, if we hadn’t broken up, I would’ve been in her shoes. I’d be dead.”

“Thank god you aren’t,” Tom said. 

“Maybe if I had answered his call–”

“Don’t think like that,” he interrupted. “Just be grateful that you weren’t there and that you’re okay. This isn’t your fault at all in any fucking way, you understand me? It was just a robbery gone wrong and as tragic as that is, that isn’t on you.”

You smiled a little, though tears were still slipping down your cheeks. He had a point and even if he was technically still a stranger, he seemed to care about you. 

“We’ve got her now, Tom. She’s all ours.”

“What’d you say?” Tom looked at you over his shoulder.

“Nothing.” You smiled sadly at him. “Just…thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.”

[sorrowsofsilence]

Burning out • VI

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

I was lost, but now I'm found Under the lights and in the sounds So let us sing and sing it loud That we're not perfect, but we're proud of who we are.

Noah Sebastian is lost. His crime-filled lifestyle is anything but perfect; but everything changes once he meets you.

Words: 6.4k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, mentions of drugs and alcohol/drinking

Authors note: Chapter Six - An Omen is 20mg (EDITED: 09-03-24)

new? start from chapter one here

THIS IS A FANFICTION USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THESE PEOPLE WOULD DO THE THINGS IN THE STORY OR ACT THE WAY THEY DO IN THE STORY, IN REAL LIFE! IT IS SIMPLY FICTION, AND JUST FOR FUN! THINK OF THEM AS ACTORS LOL.

+

I watched as her lashes touched the tops of her cheeks, her eyebrows releasing tension from the day, lips parted gently as sleep took over.

My eyes danced across her features, completely captivated. Y/N breathed slowly, and my hand subconsciously reached over, tucking a strand of loose hair behind her ear as I endeared over her.

“you’re my saving grace,” I whispered as I stroked her hair, still completely baffled this was all happening.

I watched her for a moment longer before I turned over, facing the door and her desk. My eyes trailed over to the bottle that rested on her desk, the yellow plastic alluring. Zolpidem. 700 dollars right there.

Destruction. Crime. Greed.

That is why we live like heathens That is why we live like heathens That is why we live like heathens

+++++

Silence. There was no sound.

The house had an eerie vibe, with its dark and damp interior. Her heart raced as she stood in the unknown stillness. The silence only added to her fear, causing her to carefully make her way towards the kitchen. She reached for a knife from the drawer, trying not to make any noise.

Although she wanted to call out for her parents, she was too scared of what may be lurking within the house. She then moved towards the staircase, her eyes fixed on the steps and hesitant to take the first one. But before she could move, there was a loud crash from the back door- whatever or whoever was inside was now leaving.

Her body surged with adrenaline as she sprinted towards the back door, dropping the knife along the way. She pushed open the unlocked door and saw a figure running towards the field behind her backyard. Without thinking, she screamed at the top of her lungs, her throat burning from the force of her cry. Another surge of energy pulsed through her and she ran after the figure into the darkness of the forest.

During her sprint, she stumbled and fell hard onto the grassy ground, knocking all of the breath out of her body. After catching her breath, she stood up and looked into the darkness ahead. Once again, there was nothing but silence.

The figure was unknown to her, but a wave of dread washed over her as she ran back towards the house. "Mom!" She cried out desperately, her voice bouncing off the walls and chipped paint. With determination, she climbed the stairs using both her hands and feet, adrenaline pushing her forward toward what she knew would be grief.

Her mother's name escaped her lips once more, even though she already knew that the woman's ears could not hear it. Reaching the landing, she made a sharp turn, almost slipping on the rug beneath her feet. She grabbed onto the wall for support and continued shuffling towards her mother's bedroom, tears already forming in her eyes.

"Mom!" The door was wide open, and as soon as she turned the corner, she saw the scene before her. She stumbled backwards, hitting the wall with a thud, cries pouring out of her mouth as she slid down in anguish. Sobs turned into screams of trauma and pain.

The satin sheets were already soaked with blood, and her mother's lifeless eyes stared back at her in horror. She lay across the bed in a mangled mess, bullet wounds revealing the tragic end of her life.

As tears blurred her vision, the girl frantically searched for her father but found only the figure lying limp in the corner. The once pristine wallpaper now coated in burgundy splatters left the girl frozen with fear as tears streamed down her face and she struggled to catch her breath.

She was only thirteen.

+++++

Y/N

I woke up thrashing against Noah’s grasp on my bed, my throat burning from the guttural screams that fled from my mouth. Through ringing ears, the tears poured from my memory-stained eyes as I pushed against his cage, fear engulfing me.

“Y/N!” Noah yelled, arms and legs enveloping me protectively, audible sobs erupting from my chest. The images flashed in my mind as I relived them, feeling like I was back there at that moment.

I try to stay calm Focus on my breath It’s like I drown In a sea of sand

“Y/N, I’m here!” Noah screamed, his heart pounding against me with adrenaline and worry, unsure what was going on. With his arms wrapped around my chest Noah pleaded for me to stop.

I pushed against him again, trying to break free from his grasp. He squeezed me close, shushing me as I sat between his limbs, resisting my attempts to pull away. My bedroom door burst open as Nicholas barged through the doorway, holding it open with an arm as his chest heaved, watching with wide eyes.

“What the fuck is happening?” He watched as Noah stared back with fearful eyes, shaking his head with uncertainty.

“Dude I have no idea, I just woke up to her screaming bloody murder,” Noah panted, looking down at me, trying to place his head on top of my own to comfort me.

Nicholas bit his fingernail anxiously, unsure what to do as he watched the scene unfold. Another set of footsteps dan up the stairs and Nick joined, peaking his head from behind Nicholas.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, stepping into the room.

I continued to cry into Noah’s bare chest, my vocal cords straining from the screams. Noah rocked our bodies back and forth as my wailing slowed, sobs replaced with staggered inhales.

My cheek pressed against Noah’s warm skin as he began rubbing small circles on my back, sheltering me with a tenderness I’d never felt from anyone before.

Everything’s black Everything’s cold A second is a new thought for me

“What happened?” Noah whispered after a moment, placing his mouth on my forehead gently as he spoke against me with delicate lips. My fists clenched, knuckles turning white from the hold.

“I-” I mumbled, staring at the floor as I began to zone out in shock, “The pills, they usually he-help.”

“Help what?” Noah asked, lifting his free hand to stroke his fingers through my hair, nails gently skimming across my scalp. The sensation sent shivers across my arms, Noah’s touch relaxing me as I sighed anxiously, pressing myself into his inviting body.

I sniffed, coughing on the saliva that built in my throat from my sobs, “The nightmares. I barely sleep because of them. I-” I squeezed my eyes shut as I winced, “I always have dreams about finding my parent’s bodies.”

Noah's breath hitched as he swallowed hard, his hand still gently rubbing circles on my back. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Nicholas approached us slowly and sat on the edge of the bed. He gave me a reassuring closed-mouth smile. "We're here for you if you need to talk. It can help to get things off your chest."

I looked into Nicholas' warm silver-grey eyes, feeling comforted by their inviting gaze. I took a deep breath and blinked away tears before nodding. With some effort, I pulled myself away from Noah's embrace as he reluctantly released me.

I wiped my eyes with the bottom of my palms, taking a deep breath and looking at Noah as my lip trembled in grief, “I’m so sorry.”

1 life I won’t miss 2 pills I will take 3 hours of bliss 4 more I’m in hell 5 days I’m asleep 6 that I’m insane I don’t wanna feel the pain

Noah tilted his head as his shoulders fell with empathy, his ochre eyes filling with anguish as he watched me, “You have nothing to apologize for, it just scared us. Scared me.”

Noah's gaze shifted towards Nicholas before he turned to Nick, who had made himself comfortable by sitting on the carpeted floor with his legs crossed, pulling his knees up to his chest. Nick's head slumped as he fought off sleep, his arms resting on his knees and hands clasped together. I avoided looking at them and instead focused on my blanket, picking at the fabric nervously as I struggled to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill over. My mind was racing as I tried to figure out where to start.

“Um, so,” I started, mouth quivering, “I found my parents murdered when I was thirteen.”

Noah reached over to me with an open palm. I hesitated for a moment before placing my hand on top of his own. His thumb rubbed gently over my fingers as he silently encouraged me to keep going.

“I-I remember it was an evening I had soccer practice. I walked home because my parents never came to pick me up,” My eyebrows furrowed as I stared at the floor blankly, the three pairs of eyes watching me with curiosity.

“I assumed they had forgotten to get me. They were out, attending an important dinner with my uncle, so I didn’t think much of it,” I sniffed, my free hand picking at the fabric of my satin sheets, “but when I got home, the front door was wide open and all the lights were out. I had a weird feeling and I knew something was wrong, and I knew I wasn’t alone.”

I felt their gaze burning into me to continue. None of the boys moved a muscle.

“Someone was in the house,” I shuddered, recalling the memory, “and I chased after them, but they disappeared. I knew that whoever was in there had done something. I knew my parents were dead then.”

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall as I sucked in a shaky breath, the pitch of my voice shifting, “I walked up the stairs, and my parents were lying in their room.”

I closed my eyes with gritted teeth, the tears slowly trailing down my cheeks, “there was so much blood. My dad’s face was barely recognizable because of the gunshot wound.”

I began crying again at the image, my shoulders shuddering through my full-body episode.

“My mother’s eyes were still open,” I wailed, “she looked so scared, even when dead.”

The Nicks stared at me in horror, my words digging into them.

“Jesus Christ.” Through blurry vision I watched as Jolly leaned on the frame, his hand rubbing across his forehead.

I have a fear for living Cause I don’t wanna be a fuckin mess I relive in my nightmares Cause it’s the only way I can rest

Noah leaned forward, grabbing both sides of my face as he stared at me with complete agony.

His thumbs swiped underneath my eyes and across my cheeks, smearing the tears into my skin.

My body shook through my exhale and Noah pulled me into him once again, sitting me on his lap as he slowly swayed our bodies.

My ocean is made of dust And I’ve been dying here of thirst It’s like I’m diving in the mud Every time I try to reach for the worst

“I’m so sorry Y/N,” Noah whispered into my ear as he took a deep breath, sighing into my hair.

“Do you know who did it?” Nicholas asked.

I shook my head in sorrow, “it ended as a cold case. They couldn’t find any evidence-”

I then shrugged, “Or they stopped looking.”

Noah squeezed me reassuringly, and I nuzzled into him, feeling safe within his arms.

“I can’t sleep without those pills,” I said, and all the boys turned towards my gaze, looking at the yellow bottle that unknowingly taunted them, “They help me sleep, the other ones I take help the nightmares. Lately, it hasn’t been working.”

I’m not OK, I’m not the same My head’s screaming but I’m standing still Trapped in a lie that’s made of drugs I pray inside someone breaks my sleep

I felt Noah’s warm breath tickle down my neck as he held me, “I’m the one who found my dad’s body.”

My limbs stiffened at his words.

They tell me I should live Tell me I should care Tell me I should move But I don't feel safe here

Noah spoke softly, "Those images never leave you. They become the last memory you have of someone, whether you want them to or not." I closed my eyes and buried my face in his chest again, holding onto him tightly as if he was the only thing keeping me from falling apart.

"It's horrible," I whispered. "I know," Noah replied, and we sat in silence for a moment, finding comfort in each other's presence.

"What time is it?" I asked as I pulled away from Noah and reached for my phone. "Oh no," my eyes widened as I realized I was supposed to start work in fifteen minutes. I scrambled out of bed, searching frantically for my clothes from the day before.

"Bye guys," I waved awkwardly at the boys who were still staring at me. Jolly immediately turned around and left, followed by the Nicks. Noah's gaze lingered on me for a moment before he too turned to give me privacy.

I hastily got dressed and tied my hair up in a messy bun. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I cringed at how swollen and red my eyes were from crying all night. But there was no time to fix that now.

Turning towards Noah, unsure of what to do next, I said, "I need to go." Should I hug him goodbye? Would that be weird? Would it be wrong not to? We stood there, silently communicating through unspoken words until he finally stood up and grabbed his clothes from my vanity.

My eyes wanted to roam over his exposed body, taking in every inch of his tattoos, but I resisted the urge and focused on getting ready to leave.

“Are you sure you’re okay to go to work?” Noah asked as he pulled his shirt over his head, tucking his hair behind his ears. He is beautiful.

I nodded, hesitating for a moment before grabbing him, pulling and absorbing him into a hug. Noah immediately rested his chin on the top of my head, squeezing me against him.

“Thank you,” I murmured, “For everything.”

Noah’s chest heaved as I let go, swinging my bag over my shoulders.

I gave him a small smile, “I’ll see you later. Don’t burn the place down.”

Noah’s breathy laugh was the last I heard as I ran down the stairs, slipping on my sneakers.

Nicholas was waiting by the door, Juice spiralling between his legs.

“You going to be alright?” He asked as he bent down to pick up Juice, cradling him in his arms.

I nodded reassuringly, smiling at him, “I’ve had many nights like this, and I’ve always got through it.”

+++++

NOAH

I let out a deep sigh, my hands rubbing against my tired face as I heard the front door shut. My heart ached for her as I saw so much of myself reflected in her struggles.

Ever since that day, I couldn't get the image of my father's lifeless body hanging from the garage ceiling out of my mind. It gave me nightmares and traumatized me, and even now, the pain still lingers. That event tore my world apart.

But lately, it's been my own life that frightens me more.

I've become what I feared the most.

As I finished getting dressed, my thoughts turned to the pills. With guilt gnawing at me, I glanced over to her desk - but quickly looked away when I noticed the bottle was no longer there.

“You looking for something?”

My brows furrowed as I turned towards Y/N’s door.

Folio entered her room quietly, closing the door gently behind him, twisting the knob to make as little sound as possible.

“What would I be looking for?” I asked, folding my arms across my chest defensively.

Nick rolled his eyes as he pulled his hand out from behind his back. The contents of the bottle shook as he opened his palm in front of me, revealing Y/N’s Zolpidem.

I ground my teeth as I confronted Nick, "What were you thinking, man? Why did you take them?"

"For money," he replied nonchalantly, giving me a contemptuous look. He waved the pills in front of me, urging me to take them.

I kept my hand firmly by my side, trying to decide between Nick's offer and the fear that gripped me. My heart pounded loudly in my chest.

"You can sell those for almost a thousand bucks," he added with a smirk.

I scoffed at his suggestion, my voice rising with anger. "Why would I betray her trust like that? Did you not just witness what I did?"

"Shh, keep your voice down," Nick growled, grabbing my hand and placing the pills on my palm.

I couldn't help but laugh. "Why? She's not even here."

"Because Nicholas actually cares about her," Folio interjected, closing my hand around the plastic bag. "Do you?"

This is the end time out of my bed It’s like I’m tryna ride an avalanche

And if time is the key then I locked myself into my own black hole

His last question rang in my ears as I looked at the contents in my hold. I twirled the case between my fingers as my eyes closed in contemplation, a breath of anguish escaping my lips through the inward conflict. Do you?

Of course, I do. I was in way too fucking deep already.

You are not a saviour if you’re telling me it’s just a phase You’re a motherfucker if you’re telling me it’s just a phase

Y/N would be broken if I took them. She needs them, clearly.

She also offered us a place to stay; I couldn’t betray her any more than I already had… but how was I supposed to get all the money by myself?

I looked at Nick as my thoughts battled.

How am I supposed to look at her again? If I do this, how will I face her again?

“I can’t do it Nick,” I closed my eyes torment, holding the bottle back toward him; but my fingers never let go.

“We’ve been at this for seven years Noah. You’ll meet another Y/N.”

His words caused my chest to ache. I don’t think I’ll meet anyone like Y/N again.

“Sell them. These, and whatever fucking else you missed out on the first night you were here,” Nick exclaimed.

“She took us in,” I almost pleaded.

“And she’s amazing for that, but you need to think about us. We are so close to being free.”

I groaned in frustration, “Fuck!”

“Make copies of the pills if you’re so worried about her then,” Nick sighed, rubbing his fingers into his eyes in annoyance, “replace them with sugar pills so she doesn’t think they’re missing.”

I bit my lip as a tinge of hope budded in my chest, attempting to push past the guilt. If she doesn’t know the pills are missing, then she wouldn’t hate me…and I could still make enough money.

You need to fuckin hear me now

“That’s a great idea- but where the hell am I supposed to get pills that look the same?” I said. What kind of monster am I for actually considering this?

No one, no one will bring me down

“Get some vitamins or some shit from the pharmacy, it’s not that hard. She could use some vitamin A or some iron or shit. Whatever.” Nick shrugged, leaning his back against the door.

“Maybe you should rob one of the pharmacies?” Nick suggested.

I shook my head, “Too risky. There are cameras.”

“I know there’s a small pharmacy in Chinatown on Thirteenth Street. It’s super old, so the cameras may only be outside,” Nick watched me with careful eyes, “Drugs are the way to make cash.”

“I’ll give you the number of one of Jolly’s old dealers. I’m sure he can hook you up with a decent price.”

Nick was right. There was no way I was going to make enough cash by breaking into houses and stealing shit.

I left that afternoon, carrying all of Y/N’s pill bottles towards a pharmacy in the middle of town. Guilt ate me alive as I opened the door.

There was no turning back now.

I found various vitamins that looked similar enough to her pills. Grabbing all of them I went up to the counter, paying the cashier.

“Vitamin deficient?” She laughed, trying to make a joke.

I hummed in reply while she scanned the items, avoiding her gaze out of fear that she could see through me. I paid quickly, snatching my change from her hand. My palms were already sweaty with anticipation as I asked, "Uh, can I use the bathroom?" She narrowed her eyes at my nervous behaviour but still handed me the bag and pointed towards the back left corner. Giving her a brief smile, even though it felt forced, I made my way to the bathroom and locked the door behind me. Leaning against the wall, defeated, I slid down to sit on the cool tile floor. This was a terrible idea. How could I have done this to her?

I’m not ok, I’m not the same My head’s screaming but I’m standing still

My leg bounced nervously as my stomach churned. I opened my backpack, grabbing ziplock bags that were labelled with each drug’s name and how much was in each pill.

Spilling the containments into the appropriate bags, I began replacing the pills with the vitamin look likes, filling the capsule with lies and deceit.

How long would this placebo last before she found out?

I put the bottles back into my bag and made sure they were secure. My head hung low, and I tried to hold back the tears of shame that threatened to spill over. I shoved the plastic bags into my cargo pants before standing up and looking at myself in the bathroom mirror. I gripped the edges of the sink, feeling the tension build as I stared at my reflection and the white ceramic bowl beneath it. Angry thoughts raced through my mind as my chest rose and fell rapidly, and I squeezed my eyes shut. It was all D's fault; if our lives weren't in danger, I wouldn't have to resort to this.

My life. Jolly’s. Ruffilo’s. Folio’s.

Y/N’s wasn’t- not because of D.

But because of me.

Why am I screwing her over, when I know how she doesn’t deserve it?

I turned the handles of the sink, letting the water fill the bowl as I splashed myself, trying to pull myself out of my delusion.

I needed to do this, I was so close to being done. I could make it up to her if she’d still take me. If she finds out.

The angel on my shoulder told me not to do this.

The devil reminded me of my pain.

I left the bathroom, walking past the aisles of products.

Trapped in a lie that’s made of drugs I pray inside, pray

“Have a good da-” The woman at the counter got cut off as I slammed the store door, my breath heaving as I marched down the sidewalk. Dark grisly clouds covered the sky, rolling in as they carried the beginning of a storm.

That I’m not alone, that you realize Sometimes a word could save a life

I stared straight ahead, eyes resentful and broken through the wind. There was no going back. Destruction.

I’m not okay, I’m not the same

My phone buzzed as I turned the corner.

Folio: He says he’ll meet you in the ally right before the pier

Me: Got it

Folio: Did you bring your mask? Gloves?

Me: Yep.

As I walked I swung my backpack around, grabbing the leather gloves and mask. Raindrops began falling from the sky in an uneven pattern. Shoving the mask in my sweater pocket I threw my hood over the top of my head. My legs carried me determined toward the alleyway before the pier, chest aching.

I chewed the inside of my cheek in remorse, resisting the urge to draw blood from the skin, knowing the sensation would distract me from my racing mind. I didn’t deserve to be distracted. I needed to feel everything.

Folio: Stay safe Noah. Don’t fuck it up.

Shit I don’t know where I wake up I might still be in a bad dream, a dark dream

As I approached the ally way I ducked between cars, pulling my black ski mask over my head, concealing my identity.

Silence is healthy violence, and I became deaf, I became drunk with my sorrows Alone in the night and 20 milli’

I walked between the brick buildings, small puddles forming between the cracks of cement. The ashy scent embedded around me as the dampened pavement absorbed the sky’s tears.

I lost my feet in the dark water that takes me towards Lucifer, hell

I stood behind one of the garbage bins, head snapping forward and back as I looked around for the man who would do my bidding.

“Name?”

My eyes squinted through the rain as a man in a yellow balaclava turned from a hidden corner, approaching me slowly.

“Who sent you?” I asked, knowing better than to answer first.

The man chuckled at my mistrust, stopping a few feet away from me, “Folio.”

“Good,” I nodded, reaching into my cargo pants, and pulling out the baggies, “Sebastian.”

He nodded, giving me a grin. My eyes immediately noticed the sheen from his teeth, the set of grills layered on the bottom reflecting the remaining light that shone through the clouds.

“What do you have to offer?” He asked, taking a step forward.

“40mg of Adderall, almost full bottle; 8mg of Zolpidem; half bottle; and 12mg of diazepam, almost full bottle,” I held out the bags. Crime.

He eyed them for a moment before smiling at me, “So where are the bottles then?”

I sighed, reaching into my backpack to pull out the plastic, and his eyes widened.

“You have more?” He asked.

I shook my head, “No. These are filled with vitamins now.” I handed him the bottle to inspect the packaging, showing that they were legitimate.

The man hummed, “Sly dog. Smart move,” he spun the bottle between his fingers, reading the label, “sucks to be whoever Y/N Y/L/N is.”

I felt my brows clench as a snarl grew on my face, angry that he used her name aloud.

“Let me check the real pills,” He nodded towards the bags, handing me back the bottle of placebos.

The masked man pulled out a small box from his pocket, pulling out a vial of fluid and some paper strips.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes, “You have a testing kit? Out here?”

He laughed, “Well, when you’ve been in this business for as long as I have, you have the proper tools.”

“Fair enough,” I shrugged, “They’re prescription, so they aren’t laced with shit.”

He nodded, “I believe you, but I’m still gonna check.”

The man opened one capsule from each bag, mixing the smallest amount into the solution he held before placing a drop on each testing strip. After a few moments, the strips changed colour and he smiled, the gold within his mouth flashing.

“It’s pure,” He said, rummaging through his bag before pulling out a wad of cash, “How does 2,200 sound?”

I had to hold my mouth shut, the price leaving me shocked, “Y-yea. That’s great.”

I held out my hand as he gave me the money, my fingers running across the top before placing it in my pocket.

“If you can get me more like this, I’ll up the price next time,” The man said, holding his hand out, waiting for me to accept his transaction, “People pay good money for pure shit.”

Next time.

I wrapped my gloved fingers around his own, sealing the deal of Greed.

“Folio will give you my number,” He said, pulling away.

“What can I call you?” I asked as I turned around, preparing to walk away.

“Vincent.” He said, grinning again as I listened to his footsteps splash against the puddles as he departed, “See ya, Sebastian, pleasure doing business.”

+

I got back to Y/N’s quickly, rushing up the stairs and heading straight for the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, placing the faux pills back in their designated spots. Fabricated homes.

As I closed the cabinet my heart almost fell out of my chest, Nicholas standing right at the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” He asked, folding his arms.

“Uh-” I said, out of breath, “Nothing.”

“You sold them didn’t you?” Nicholas frowned, running his fingers along his brows in disappointment.

“I had to,” I explained, facing him.

He shook his head, “You couldn’t find drugs anywhere else? She gave us her home.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t have been so trusting,” I said, staring at the laminate flooring beneath my feet.

Nicholas scoffed, “Oh, so you’re going to blame her?”

I peered into his eyes as we battled silently, both our bodies stiff as we exchanged opinions.

“You’re going to regret it, Noah.”

“Yea, no shit,” I muttered, “But the twenty-two hundred bucks I got will be worth it.”

Nicholas’ eyes widened for a second before he stared at me angrily again, “Will it?”

I watched him, my fists clenching.

“Will it be worth it when you lose her?”

I gritted my teeth as he spoke.

“Will it be worth it when you have nothing, again?”

“Why do you care?” I yelled, my voice raising as my frustration grew. Ruffilo’s words were right; he was right.

His eyes softened as he turned, letting me out of the bathroom. I pushed my shoulder into him as I slid past his body, walking down the stairs.

“Noah,” Nicholas called out after me before following me, “It matters because I haven’t seen you light up around someone like that in years. If ever.”

I turned around to face him at the bottom of the stairs.

“I-I barely know her!” I said angrily.

“Do you not see how you look at her? Do you not see how you fucking held her this morning? Someone who doesn’t care, wouldn’t do that. You gave her your everything.”

My heart clenched, avoiding his gaze and words, “She doesn’t need to know. I’ll tell her when I’ve paid off our debt.”

“And when the pills don’t work?” He laughed, shoulders lifting as he threw his hands up in the air.

Anger Sadness Laughter Madness

“I don’t know!” I raised my voice again, mimicking his actions.

“She is already completely whipped for you-” Nicholas said quietly, his posture softening.

I looked away again, running my fingers behind my neck.

“-and you’re already wrapped around her finger.”

We are one step away from total decay Slipping Falling Closer to biting the concrete We are one step away You can't call this living

“I’m not the good guy,” I gazed up at my brother, his eyes saddening at my words.

I exhaled heavily as I walked toward the basement door, heading down to meet Jolly and Folio in the basement, signalling the end of my conversation.

Nicholas was the voice of reason, but I was too far gone to listen.

Jolly and Folio were jamming when I reached the bottom, the sound of a drumset being smashed leaving me confused.

“Hey,” Jolly nodded towards me, stopping mid-strum on the guitar. Folio hit the symbol one last time before he waved, sat in the corner in front of a shitty drumset that was barely holding together.

“The hell is this?” I tilted my head. The guitar Jolly was using was plugged into a beat-up amp.

I peered around the room, noticing two other blow-up mattresses and run-down decor.

“You’ve been busy,” I said, nodding at everything. They were making this place home.

“So have you,” Nick said, kicking the bass drum excitedly, “How much did he give you?”

“Who gives who what?” Jolly questioned, eying the both of us.

I sat on one of the mattresses, resting my elbows on my knees, “Vincent. Twenty-two hundred.”

“You knew?” Nicholas said frustrated in a causative tone as he eyed Folio.

“He needs the money Ruffilo,” Nick said annoyed, twirling the drumstick between his fingers.

“Yea, by robbing someone else, not Y/N.” Nicholas defended, “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Don’t you feel bad?”

Walk the line and pray to your master Ball and chain, a slave to disaster

Folio hit the bass drum again, avoiding the question.

“So you sold her meds after all?” Jolly nodded in contemplation. I couldn’t tell whether he approved or not.

“Replaced with vitamins so she doesn’t notice,” I mumbled, my head handing in shame.

Walk the line and pray to your master Ball and chain, a slave to disaster This is an omen, a warning, a lesson to take So listen to the words that I say

Jolly began picking at the strings, “what were the lyrics you sang the other day?” He asked.

My eyebrows pinched together, “What?”

“In the motel? Something something, I see through you,” He said, shaking his head, “Devil or God?”

“I see through you, I know what you are,” I said slowly, “I've seen the Devil more than I've seen God.”

Jolly hummed, strumming on the guitar, “Cover your ears and shut your eyes,”

I stared at him, eyes squinting in animosity. What was he doing?

“Because what I'm about to say is gonna ruin your night.”

I watched him as he strummed, and Folio began hitting a beat.

“You've dug your grave and you have no one but yourself to blame.”

Animosity shifted to anger, “What are you doing?”

“Songwriting,” Jolly shook his head at me.

“But by the way, I agree with Nicholas.”

+

Hours later Y/N came home between shifts, shuffling down the stairs in excitement once she heard music.

“What!” She exclaimed excitedly, looking at the setup we created, “You guys make music?”

She sat next to me on the mattress, crossing her legs as she watched with adoration. She turned to smile at me, and I gave her a curt grin before looking down.

Her smile was radiant, and the look of complete awe she gave me left me crumbling. What have I done?

Danger Caution Proceed Slowly I am one step away from losing my sanity

“We’ve always just dabbled,” Nicholas said excitedly as he set the bass down, “but we went to the thrift store to find some mattresses and found the drum set and amp.”

“Well,” Y/N looked at all of us, “If you’re looking to make money, I know Sammy’s is trying to find bands who are willing to play live music.”

“I wouldn’t consider us a band,” Jolly laughed, “But extra income that Noah could use? I’m down.”

“Could we do like covers n’ shit? We don’t exactly have any original songs,” Folio said.

Y/N nodded eagerly, “Oh yeah, I’m sure that's not an issue at all.”

“How much would we make?” Ruffilo asked.

“I think like three hundred to five hundred,” She shrugged, “But I can confirm at work tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” I piped up, still looking at the floor, “Do you have tonight off?”

“Yeah, it’s quite nice. I’m exhausted,” She laughed quietly.

She looked over at me now, and I did everything I could to fight her gaze- but I cracked, facing her. Her eyes bore into mine with yearning, my stomach clenching as she spoke.

“Want to watch a movie?” We didn’t watch a movie.

As we lay in her bed I held her head firmly in place, her lips wrapped around my desire, mouth sliding up and down. I watched her with lustful eyes as her hand held the rest of me, tongue swirling around the tip as she stroked.

Slipping Falling Closer to places that I should not be

“Get on your knees,” the command left me in a throaty plea.

I am one step away, annihilate everything

Y/N obliged and I stood up, gazing down at her with my eyes half-closed as she knelt before me, vulnerable and at my mercy. Her lips closed around me once more, her tongue caressing my skin with elegance and finesse. My hips instinctively began to move in rhythm with her mouth, thrusting gently as my hands tangled in her hair for support.

Desperate for more, I pulled her closer until she gagged on my body, unable to resist the urge to dominate her. She met my gaze through her long lashes, the intensity of our eye contact only adding to the pleasure coursing through me. With a sudden burst of passion, she pushed herself even closer before pulling away, leaving behind a trail of saliva on my skin. I was on the brink of climax just from watching her, and the smirk playing on her lips made it clear that she knew exactly how much control she had over me.

Walk the line and pray to your master (Embrace the disease) Ball and chain, a slave to disaster (Have I just been dreaming?)

“Fuck,” a breathy laugh left me as I looked down in awe with a lopsided grin.

“Such a good girl,” I pulled her closer to my pelvis as I hit the back of her throat and thrust forward.

She pulled away, smiling at my praise as she wrapped her fingers around me, rotating her wrist before sucking against my skin again, “Anything for you.” She closed her eyes again, but I needed her.

Have I just been dreaming?

“look at me, show me those pretty eyes while I fuck your mouth,” I demanded and her lashes flicked up towards me, my body shuddering as she stared into me with complete greed.

I observed her every move, heavy pants heaving from my chest as I groaned deeply, my body close to its release.

Walk the line and pray to your master Ball and chain, a slave to disaster

“Fuck,” my stomach clenched as my body began to twitch, her lips sucking harder as she took all of me.

This is an omen, a warning, a lesson to take So listen to the words that I say

I moaned as she slid down one more time and I gripped her hair, holding her still. I filled her tongue as threads of my release coated the back of her throat. The sight below me left my legs shaking as I pulled away, tucking her hair behind her ears, and rubbing my fingers underneath her chin in endearment.

What have I done?

“Good girls swallow,” I whispered and she moaned.

“Open,” I said, watching in complete reverence as she stuck out her tongue, showing me that she obeyed, drinking in all of me.

I leaned down towards her, pulling her chin up to kiss me as I melted into her lips, sighing with commitment.

What have I done?

Chapter 7

Tags: @crimson-calligraphyx @lma1986 @spicywhenspeaking @sammyjoeee @shilohrosechicken

@princessmarshmallowx @laurpartyprogram @cookiesupplier @nojoyontheburn @lacktoesandtoddlerant

@veronicaphoenix @er3nslovergirl @cncohshit @scrumptiousfestivalpost @melcchs

@flowery-mess @mentallynot-here @judging-from-afar @darkmxgician @badomensls

@hoe-for-daddywise @philomenie @xxkittenkissesxx @venturethroughtheveil @thefallennightmare

@blend-in-with-the-madness @reyadawn @deathblacksmoke @anameunmusical @sitkowski

@anything-more-than-human @into-the-grey @amelia-acero @rumoured-whispers @artificialbreezy

[practickles]

Rough (Day) - Featherary Day 7

Fandom: Project Sekai

Lees: Akito Shinonome, Toya Aoyagi

Lers: Toya Aoyagi, Akito Shinonome

Romantic AkiToya

Word Ct: 1.7k

Warnings: Tickles

Summary: After the day Akito has had, all he wants is some playful affection from his boyfriend. Luckily, Toya is more than happy to both give and receive.

Yet another draft I dusted off and finished (read: finished, not polished/fixed/edited) for a birthday. Happy birthday Akito. Enjoy. You all can have some AkiToya as a treat.

----

Akito stormed into the living room, tossed his bag on the ground, kicked off his shoes, and flopped onto the couch with a loud sigh.

"Hey." Toya greeted softly from his spot on the other end of the couch. He placed a bookmark to save where he was reading and set the book on the coffee table, giving his boyfriend his completely undivided attention. Toya knew he could be oblivious when it came to social situations but he prided himself in his astute ability to tell when Akito was upset. "Rough day?" 

Akito sighed again. "You wouldn't fucking believe it." He, with little grace, clambered across the couch to sit against Toya’s side, earning a slight, closed lip smile of both endearment and sympathy from the other. 

Toya was never certain how to comfort his partner in times like this but was glad to know Akito felt comfortable enough to initiate even a small action like that. Following his lead, Toya hesitantly guided his boyfriend's head onto his shoulder and ran a hand through his soft orange hair in a gentle, repetitive motion. "You want to talk about it?" 

Akito leaned into the touch and shut his eyes with a contented hum. "It's just dumbasses at work. Not much to talk about." 

"Ah, okay. If you're sure." Toya was concerned and couldn't help but feel a bit helpless. He couldn't stand to see the man he loved so stressed out. "Anything I can do?"

After a beat, Akito went slightly pink, burying his face into Toya's neck. Something clearly came to mind at the question and he seemed hesitant to share it. "No. No, just this is fine." He mumbled. He sounded as if he were trying to convince not only Toya, but also himself. It's a given that he utterly failed at both. 

Toya frowned. He knew when it came to affection, Akito had trouble asking for comfort. Still though, he couldn't help but hate it when his boyfriend was dishonest with him, especially about this. He only wanted to help however he could. "Hey." He turned his head to look at the man on his shoulder and squeezed his hand. "Kito? You know you can tell me anything? You don't need to be so embarrassed. It's just me."

The redhead flushed at how he was addressed. Toya wasn't typically one for nicknames, only resorting to them in moments of vulnerability. That genius idiot probably didn't even notice how the pet name made him want to spill his guts. He was far too weak to him. He took a deep breath, Toya would back off if he asked but that felt wrong. He wanted to be open. Unfortunately, open is hard to achieve when the subject is so... embarrassing. He opened his mouth, and closed it. "Yeah, I know. It's just that- well... Ugh." 

"Take your time. It's okay."

"I just... could you.. help me take my mind off it? With that dumb thing where we both... you know.... with the laughing?" Akito, the color of a tomato at this point, turned his face deeper into his partner to hide it.

Toya looked confused only for a moment before smiling fondly. "Oh. You mean you want to have a tickle fight?" 

The way he said it so casually rendered Akito speechless. He could only nod shyly. 

"Of course," Toya placed a gentle kiss on Akito's temple. "See? Nothing to be embarrassed about. I'm going to tickle you now. You can get me back if you'd like. Is that okay?" 

Akito, again, only gave a nod. 

Toya, not wanting to overwhelm him, wrapped an arm around the ginger and started to slowly trail his fingers over his sides. He was rewarded with little happy snickers slowly trickling into the room.

Akito felt a sudden burst of confidence overtake him through his laughter, energy flooding his chest like wildfire. His giggles seemed to melt away the tired frustration plaguing his heart and its place, an intense desire to get back at his boyfriend. He couldn't just sit here and take it. He wasn't going to let himself lose. He was going to turn that smug, stupid, beautiful smile into a panicked grin and make him scream in laughter. He did have permission after all. 

With no effort at all, Akito easily jerked himself from his boyfriend's clutches, flipped him onto his back, straddled his hips and began to claw wildly on his sides. 

"HAHAHA! AKIHITO!" Toya protested, immediately going limp at the surprise attack. "I- NAHAHAT- FAHAHAH!" He could barely even speak through his own wild peals of laughter.

"Not what? Not fair?" Akito grinned with a sense of satisfaction. "Hate to break it to you, hon, but life isn't fair." He leaned down close to Toya's neck, his breath making the pale skin tingle.

Time moved in slow motion for Toya as he felt his nerves light up in the brightest little firework explosions. If Akito managed to get his sides and neck at the same time, they both knew he was absolutely done for. He initially was unsure of how Akito was going to react to the tickles and, consequently, wanted to take it gently, at least to start. However, it seemed like his boyfriend had other plans, in a cruel betrayal leading him to his current predicament. He didn't have much time. All he knew was that he had to think of a way to get his boyfriend off of him and fast. He used the last of his strength to force himself forward enough to make a desperate grab at Akito's calves, dragging his short, blunt nails across them, just controlled enough not to scratch. 

The effect was immediate. Akito jerked back in surprise with a squeal, halting his attack on the soft sides in front of him just long enough for Toya to squirm out from under him, red faced and panting, and scramble a few feet away. He looked Akito in the eyes from their positions across from each other, eyes shining with pure mirth and adoration. "For someone who plahays so dirty, you're a bit ticklish yourself." He giggled out. 

"Oh you are so gonna get it now!" Akito yelled with a playful grin as he made a dive for Toya. "Come back her-HEHHE!"

He was cut off by ten fingers wiggling quickly into his tummy with the precision of a well practiced musician, targeting the carefully studied spots Toya knew would get him flailing and squealing like there's no tomorrow. Still tickling, Toya carefully pushed Akito onto his back, laying his own body on top of him. He was so weak from his still ongoing laughter and thrashing, Akito had no choice but to let him. 

Before he even had the chance to fight back, Toya readjusted himself and burrowed his head under his shirt, punctuating the movement with a large raspberry directly onto the unprotected belly. If Akito was going to go for his worst, he didn't see why he couldn't do the same in return.

“NOHOHOT THEHRE! SHIHIT TOYA!” His pleas fell on deaf ears as he felt Toya take in another breath of air to torment him with. “NAHAHAT AGAHAIHN! PLEHEHASE!” 

The next raspberry from hell was accompanied by Toya shaking his head back and forth like a wet dog trying to dry itself off. Akito had no time to dwell on the absurd juxtaposition that was his loving boyfriend acting even remotely similar to such a filthy creature; The soft blue locks of hair now adding to the sensation on his most ticklish spot served as quite the distraction. Akito threw his head back in shrieks of laughter and kicked with every scrap of remaining movement in his legs. He begged and shouted profanities that lost more and more clarity by the second. Damn Toya and his damn breath support. 

By the time Toya finished his raspberry, his partner had long since been reduced to no more than a babbling mess of insults and giggles. He panted desperately, thanking whatever was out there that had granted him freedom from his merciless boyfriend. The boyfriend so horrid and unjust that his gaze upon emerging from under his shirt was nothing but… soft. Toya looked at the other with nothing but love and maybe a hint of concern in his gray irises. He sat back on Akito’s legs, giving him room to sit up and breathe against the arm of the couch. 

“My apologies Akito. I didn’t mean for that to be so.. Intense. I hope I didn’t go too far.” He seemed shy. Embarrassed. He avoided direct eye contact. Good thing there was an easy fix for that. 

“Oh-” Akito gasped, still exhausted and taking in all the fresh air he could. “That was too far alright-” 

Toya’s face hardened with guilt. 

“-because you are so dead now. I hope that little stunt was worth it.” He smirked. 

Guilt turned to confusion. Confusion turned to realization. Realization turned to panic. Panic turned to whatever happens when embarrassment, dread, and unadulterated love for another mixed together in one large cocktail of red faced emotion. 

Akito,still laying down, pulled him close into what those unacquainted to Akito-typical ticklish revenge may have mistaken for just an innocent hug. Toya, however, knew better. That particular strain of naivete thinking had been ruined a long, long time ago. He giggled nervously, knowing full well what was about to come. 

“Any last words?” Akito teased directly into his ear, “Wanna apologize yet?” 

The defiant proclamation in return was said through a growing fit of anticipatory giggles. “I refuse to apologize for anything that makes you smile.” 

“Oi. Shut up, you.” Those were the last coherent words Toya would process for a while as his partner’s hands retreated from their gentle grasp on his waist to drilling deep into his hips. Though it was impossible to say Toya was wrong. This did make Akito happy. He loved the laughing and how distracting everything was and how he could make his stoic boyfriend squeal like a little kid. 

Toya thrashed and laughed his hardest at the tickling but none of it even came close to the warmth he felt looking at Akito’s mouth curled into a smile. Smug and determined of course, but happy nonetheless. 

Bad moods and worse days were always going to be inevitable, but with just as much certainty to the young couple, there was always the other waiting at home to make it all go away. 

----

We're going to collectively pretend that 9 months after a prompt list is an acceptable time frame to continue to work on said prompt list. Okay? Okay.

[bella-rose29]

Not Your Lover - Chapter 6 (18+ version)

This is the 18+ version of Chapter 6.

For the safer version (whether that be because you're under 18 or just don't want to read it), please go here <3 (I tried my best to make it less explicit, so please please please let me know if I need to edit anymore because I wanna make sure that everybody can enjoy reading)

Word count: 4.2k

Warnings: swearing, sex, like really explicit oral I won't lie to you, look away if you're not comfy with that (I'm sorry), davor is still stalking bc he has no life or personality

Tag list: idk who to tag tbh so I've tagged everyone in the safer part and linked this version to it :)

Y/n and Nikolai had settled into a routine within the first two days of staying in the same room, and he was starting to blur the lines in his head of what was real and what was fake.

It was dangerous, walking this line, especially since one wrong move could ruin everything that the two of them had built, but Nikolai knew that he was extremely close to throwing himself fully past reality. They had kept the pillow wall the first night, but when they had woken in roughly the same position as they had the first time that they shared a bed it made sense to forgo the divider completely. Neither of them appeared to be acknowledging it while asleep, and it saved some effort in the evening when they were getting ready for bed.

Work on the building had continued in much the same way as before, although Nikolai noticed that there was a little more tension in the air than usual. None of this was helped by the fact that he couldn't let his demon out at night anymore, and had resorted to staying late at the mansion after Y/n had headed back to the hotel room so that it stopped giving him a headache. Davor was still watching the two of them, following Nikolai around when he tried to go on a late night walk to take his demon fishing, and it was starting to get annoying. He had half a mind to confront the man, but somehow whenever Nikolai actually wanted to see Davor, he wasn't anywhere to be found. Y/n had mentioned that he was doing the same to her, but she didn't seem nearly as bothered about it.

Currently they were working on the floorboards of the first room, having pulled up the old ones and throwing them out, and Nikolai couldn't help but stare at Y/n every now and then as she worked. His demon snickered at him in his head, and Nikolai muttered a quiet "shut up" under his breath.

"Sorry? Did you say something?"

"Huh? No, nothing."

"Oh. Never mind."

They worked in silence again after that, the only sounds being the new floorboards being put down.

By the time sunset came around a few hours later, they'd managed to lay the whole floor, and Nikolai had replaced the windows, letting in the evening sun. He wiped his brow, wishing more than anything that he could take off some layers (but that would mean showing his scars for longer than a few seconds, and he didn't feel like having that conversation with Y/n yet. She'd probably also stab him or something).

"You alright? You look pretty sweaty."

"Yeah, I'm alright. Hopefully this heatwave brings in tourists," he replied, turning to look at her. That was a mistake, apparently, since he couldn't do anything but think about how gorgeous she looked in the golden light streaming in and lighting up her skin, making her look ethereal.

He was so screwed, and he knew that there wasn't any coming back now. He'd very nearly kissed her the other night, when she'd come in crying about her mother and he'd wiped away her tears, but the demon just had to pick that moment to make a noise. Nikolai had scolded it the whole way back to the hotel, and it had the good grace to at least seem sorry for getting in the way.

It had been a little awkward since, neither of them saying anything about the fact that they had very nearly kissed purely because they felt like it, and the tension was starting to kill Nikolai. They kept waking up tangled in each other too, and although he knew he shouldn't, he held on to her a little longer in the mornings, and his touch lingered a moment more when he passed her things. Whether she'd noticed, he had no idea, but at least she hadn't told him to stop being weird yet.

~~~

Nik was being weird.

He kept staring at Y/n, for one, and every now and then he would hold on to her for longer than fake boyfriends probably should. He was staring now, in fact, although why she had no idea. She was covered in dirt and sweat from working all day, both in the bakery and in the mansion, and she definitely needed a bath. Maybe he was staring at her because of that? Yeah, that made more sense. Although when she looked at him (not that she was sneaking glances or anything), she couldn't deny how gorgeous he looked in the light, the sunset making his golden hair glow.

He kept talking to himself too, and Y/n was starting to worry that he was going mad. She'd talked to Gregor about it that morning, and apparently Nik was doing it while he worked in the workshop. Gregor also looked like he knew something else, but despite Y/n's best efforts she couldn't get it out of him. The man was notoriously good at keeping secrets, but if it was about Nik then she wanted to know.

"I'm sure he'll tell you in his own time, Y/n/n," was all he had said, and Y/n had huffed and left not long after.

She snapped herself out of her thoughts, blush rising when she realised that she'd zoned out looking at him, and turned back to the wall that she was painting. They'd done good work today; Nik had managed to get the new windows in with the help of her father, and the three of them had finished off the floor. Y/n had picked out the paint a while ago, and had made a start on covering the walls.

"You know," she started, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Nik turn to face her. "I think we can do this. How long have we got left now, eight days?"

"Yeah, I think so. There's still the two other rooms to do though. I know they're both clear but it's going to be a stretch to get them done on top of this one. It's taken us this long to get this room nearly ready."

"What happened to mister 'we can do it!', huh? I've got a plan, don't worry."

"Is your plan hiring the entirety of Taya? Because I might be an optimist but this is bordering on impossible."

"I thought that nothing was impossible, only improbable," she quipped, mocking his voice.

"Was that... was that meant to be me?"

"I thought it was an excellent impression. Did you have a problem with it? I mean, personally I thought there were two of you for a moment."

Nik laughed, shaking his head. "You're ridiculous," he said, looking at her fondly. Y/n smiled lightly back at him, and they got lost in each others' gazes. Nik suddenly snapped out of it, whipping his head back to the curtain pole he was adjusting. Y/n moved her own attention back to the wall, feeling her face heat up.

Shit.

~~~

An hour or so later, the sun had fully set, and Nikolai had had to turn the chandelier on in the room so that he and Y/n could continue to work. The demon had, for once, helped Nikolai out, since its laughing at Nikolai and Y/n gazing at each other made him realise what he was doing. He'd quickly gone back to what he was doing, and a moment later he heard the brush of the paint on the wall.

Now they were in separate rooms, and Nikolai had looked to check that the demon wouldn't be seen before letting it out.

"No noise, alright? The second you make a noise you're back in, understood?" The demon had nodded and padded off into a corner of the room, starting to use its tail as a brush, collecting the remaining rubbish on the floor. Nikolai felt proud of it once more, seeing it trying to help, and hoped that it had learned something valuable from working hard. Saints, he sounded like the demon's teacher. Nikolai frowned, shuffling furniture around the room. He supposed he was in a way, teaching it how to be nicer. Maybe he'd be able to let it out more if he knew it would behave. He was glad for the distraction of the demon, since it stopped him from thinking too hard about Y/n, and having to keep half an eye on the little bastard was rather entertaining at times. It was a little like having a child, except the child was quite literally a demonic entity of darkness and destruction that enjoyed ripping people's faces off and generally making their lives complete and utter misery. Nikolai suddenly wondered if that was how Baghra had felt about the Darkling, and shuddered at the thought of baby Aleksander. The demon noticed, growling lowly at its creator, and Nikolai called it over softly, careful not to alert Y/n.

"Come here, that's it, there we go," he whispered, settling on the floor as his demon came and rested its head on his lap. It was strange, doing this, but he could sense that his demon was disturbed by Nikolai's thoughts of the Darkling. While the man had been responsible for the separation between Nikolai and his demon, the latter now shared the resentment that Nikolai harboured. No doubt it was remembering the battle with Fjerda too, and the multiple brushes with death. Since then they had only become closer, reaching an agreement that they would die for each other if needed.

"Nik? You alright in there?" Both Nikolai and his demon turned to look at the doorway where Y/n's voice had come from, and they glanced at each other before the demon crept off into the shadows.

"Yep, I'm alright." He pushed himself off of the floor just as Y/n walked in, paint on her trousers.

"I think I'm gonna head out now, I've done what I can on the walls. You coming?"

"Yeah, sure. Let me just grab my things," he smiled, and she returned it, heading back into the front room. He took the demon back in, telling it to stop fussing and hurry up, and followed her out, collecting his jacket from where he'd slung it over one of the armchairs.

~~~

They made it back to the hotel no problem, although Y/n could have sworn that she saw Davor following them when they went round a corner, and when they were up in Nik's room he pulled out a bottle of kvas and two glasses.

"Drink?"

"Sure."

Davor following them wasn't too disturbing for Y/n, given he was a deeply untrusting person and was probably trying to expose Nik and Y/n's relationship for what it was, but Nik seem more concerned. He brought it up as he poured, passing one glass to Y/n and taking his own over to the sofa in front of the fireplace. Despite the heatwave, the hotel room was somehow freezing (Y/n had no idea how the owners managed it), so they'd lit a fire.

"You really aren't worried about him stalking us?"

"No, not really. Why are you so worked up about it?"

"Um... because it's stalking? It's quite literally illegal. Also, what happens if he finds out none of this is real?"

Her heart hurt at his words, but she quickly dismissed it as nothing. "Nobody will believe him if he says anything, because they like us a whole lot more. Everybody knows he likes stirring up trouble for no good reason, and I've got a reputation, hell, you have a reputation now. We'll be fine." She sipped her kvas, grateful for the burn as it went down. It stopped her thinking too hard about Nik.

"If you're sure," he frowned, and Y/n wanted to smooth the lines on his face with her fingertips. He settled into the sofa next to her having finished fiddling with the fire, and it was cramped enough that his thigh brushed against hers. She pulled her legs up, turning so that her back was resting against the arm and she was facing him. Nik angled his body slightly so that he was looking towards her, shifting in his seat in a way that had Y/n hiding behind her glass and trying desperately to not think too hard about his lap. "You alright?" he asked, amusement in his eyes and a smirk on his face, and Saints damn it she was blushing and he fucking knew it.

"Yeah, I'm alright." He hummed, and Y/n felt her cheeks grow even warmer. "What? I am!"

"Okay! You just look a little... flushed," he responded, and she could hear the laughter in his voice, making her glare at him. "There it is! I've missed that glare," he joked, only succeeding in deepening her frown.

"Fuck off," she muttered as she sipped her kvas, and he laughed, loud and bellowing. Saints, she wanted to make him laugh more often.

Sleeping next to Nik tonight would be difficult, she decided as she watched him.

~~~

A few hours and half a bottle of kvas later, Nik and Y/n had loosened up significantly, and were spilling secrets that she would never dare to tell him were she sober.

He'd confessed that he was absolutely terrified of spiders, having been nicknamed 'Nikolai the spider squealer' by his childhood best friend, and was considered a general menace to society as a small boy.

"Oh yeah, I find that so difficult to believe," Y/n giggled sarcastically, and Nik's responding pout only made her laugh harder.

"What is that supposed to mean? I am an absolute delight to have around!" He put on a look of offence, and Y/n nearly spilled her drink when she held her sides from laughing. "Seriously!" He was laughing now, spluttering as he spoke and unable to get words out properly. A few minutes later when they'd calmed down enough (it took a while since whenever they looked at each other they burst out laughing again), he spoke up again. "Go on, your turn. I think it's been my turn the last three times," he frowned, trying to count in his head. Y/n thought for a moment, before coming up with something.

"Saints, I don't know why I'm even gonna tell you this," she laughed, pressing her hand to her forehead. "Okay. So, basically, I've never... I have never... you know." She waved her hand in the general direction of her lower half. Nik's eyes went wide.

"Wait. You've never had an orgasm?"

"No, I haven't!"

"No wonder you're so fucking grumpy all the time, Saints!"

"Oi! It's not exactly my fault! Davor never could and neither can I, I gave up trying to get myself off like six months ago."

"Bet I could," Nik said, sipping his drink.

"...What?"

"I said I bet I could."

They looked at each other, Nik studying her over his glass and Y/n feeling increasingly flustered at the direction their conversation had taken.

"Prove it."

He said nothing, still just looking her, and she was starting to regret her words. "Sorry. Stupid idea. Forget it." She turned her face away, staring into the fire. He was yet to say anything, and the atmosphere turned awkward.

"Are you?" he said, and Saints, why was his voice so low? "Are you sorry?"

"No," she whispered, and she was hyper-aware of the sound of his glass clinking against the side table as he set it down. She turned to look at him, breath leaving her body at the sight of him closer than before, eyes filled with something dangerous. She put her own glass down, nearly spilling it since she hadn't taken her eyes off of Nik. "Why?"

"Because I want to prove it."

Something snapped then, and Y/n surged forward to grab at his shirt with her hands and pull him in for a kiss. He didn't seem to know what to do with himself for a moment, but after barely a second he was responding, wrapping his arms around her waist as he pulled her into his lap, moaning softly, and Saints she wanted him to do it all over again. Her hands moved up to play with his hair the way that she'd wanted to since their first kiss in the square all those days ago, tangling in the locks and tugging every now and then as his hands grasped her hips. She wasn't sure how long they were there for, exploring each other his their hands and tongues, but every second of it was just as good as she'd imagined. He'd moved her hair out of the way to kiss down her neck, alternating between soft kisses and gently biting the skin, drawing sounds out of her that Davor never could. "Nik," she whispered into his hair, not missing the way his grip tightened on her hips. He slowly dragged his head back up, kissing as he went, before he pressed another to her mouth.

"Yeah?" His pupils were blown, the blue of his eyes nearly non-existent, and his lips were slightly swollen from kissing her.

"You gonna prove it or not?" she breathed, and he could only stare at her for a moment before nodding, and then she felt his hands at the top of her trousers, pulling up the fabric of her shirt. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her, silently asking if this was still alright, and they only broke eye contact when her shirt slipped over her head, landing on the floor a second later. He pulled her back in, kisses a little more gentle than before, and Y/n went to take Nik's shirt off. He hesitated slightly, and she paused, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. "This okay? You don't have to, if it's... I just... wanted to feel you, I guess." She blushed at the admission, and he smiled softly at her.

"It's okay, darling," and Saints she'd forgotten how her stomach dipped at the pet name. "I've just... got a lot of scars," he whispered, and Y/n immediately went to reassure him.

"That's okay. You're helping me out, not talking about your scars. but equally if you wanna do that then I'll listen," she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead, and she practically felt him melt under her. He moved back a little, giving himself room to take his clothes off. Nik paused for a moment, looking at his gloves, then made a decision and yanked them off, chucking them on to the side table next to his discarded drink. He glanced back up at her, waiting for her reaction as he settled his hands lightly on top of her thighs. Y/n could only stare at them, reaching out to hold one with her own hand but not quite touching. Most of the veins were black, and his fingers were the same, and as Y/n finally took hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together and turning his arm in her grip she noticed that the black veins continued partway up his forearms. "What..." She didn't finish, not sure where to go from there. Nik was transfixed by their interlocked hands, and his thumb was stroking hers.

"The Darkling," was his only response, and Y/n didn't know what to do other than press a gentle kiss to his mouth, cupping his face with her free hand. She pulled away, resting her forehead against his, and her hand moved down to rest over his heart.

"Does it hurt?"

"No. Not anymore."

She kissed him again, slow and careful, still holding his hand in hers.

"Do you wanna carry on?"

"Yes," he said into her mouth, hands sliding up higher on her thighs, pulling her closer to him, and Saints, he wasn't lying. She moved her hands to his shirt, tugging at the hem and lifting the fabric all the way off. Her fingers traced the lines of his chest, spending extra time on the scars and marks she found, and Nik's hands came up to rest on her back, pulling her flush against him. They kissed again, this time with more hunger, and in a sudden movement Nik had flipped them so that Y/n was lying on the sofa, legs half dangling off the edge as he situated himself between them, never taking his lips off of hers. He bit her lip, and she moaned as he slipped his tongue inside, hands moving over her sides as he shifted his hips into hers. Her grip tightened on his hair, and this time it was his turn to groan as he moved to kiss down her neck again. Nik tugged at the laces of her undershirt, pulling the clothing off a moment later and flinging it to the side. He stopped, sat up and staring down at her chest, and Y/n went to cover herself. Before she could, he'd grabbed her hands, shaking his head at her. "None of that, darling. You're stunning."

He lowered himself back down, nose brushing her chest as he asked for permission. She didn't hesitate, using her hands in his hair to all but shove him further into her, and a brief moment later he was lavishing her with his mouth again. He moved further down her body when he was satisfied he'd done enough, leaving a trail of kisses as he went, and then he was taking off her belt and looking up at her from where he now kneeled on the floor between her thighs.

"This okay, Y/n?"

"Yes," she breathed, helping him to take the rest of her clothes off. Nik kissed his way across her inner thighs, touching her everywhere but where she needed him most, and his hand on her hips was preventing her from pushing up. Annoyingly he was going to prove his point eventually, and Y/n could only begin to imagine how cocky he would be. All thoughts of anything but Nik went out of her head when he suddenly kissed her there, tentative and experimental, and Saints, the smug smirk he had on his face at her responding moan was enough to make her want to go right back to hating him.

She lost all sense of time as Nik touched her, drawing out new sounds with every movement. The hand that wasn't holding her down was helping to bring her closer, and somewhere in the haze of her pleasure Y/n thought about his blackened fingers on her skin and inside her and she gripped his hair tighter (she also had a vague thought that his scalp would hurt after this, but he didn't seem to mind at the moment), urging him to keep going.

He did, never once stopping his actions until he'd pushed her over the edge, hold on her hips getting stronger (she'd have bruises, she was sure) as she shook, and then again when he did it for a second time.

He moved back up her body a while after, having left soft kisses behind as she came down from the high, and when she brought his face down to kiss her it was soft and more loving than it should have been given they weren't actually together.

"You alright?" he asked, nose nudging against her cheek. She could only nod, wiped out. She could feel him smiling, the cheeky fucker, and she half-heartedly slapped his arm, trying to not think too hard about how toned it was. "What?" he smiled, pulling back to look at her.

"Nothing, just, you're a lot more... I don't know," she trailed off, blushing at his stare. "You have very nice arms," she decided on, and Nik's immediate laughter made her flush even more. "Shut up," she mumbled, turning her face to hide in the back of the sofa. She felt Nik's hand cup her chin, bringing her face back towards his as he planted a kiss on her lips, lingering for a while.

"Thank you," he whispered, amused smile still present. "You have very nice tits, if that helps."

"Nik!"

~~~

Nikolai had no idea where the two of them went from here, but he wouldn't take back a single second of it.

He'd helped clean Y/n up, and then had helped her move to the bed, passing her one of his clean shirts to sleep in. He went without the gloves as he got into bed next to her, leaving them sat on the table in front of the fire. He was just pulling his boots off when he felt Y/n's fingers on his back, tracing over the scars from the demon's wings. Her hands flattened on his back, then moved around his torso and under his arms as she pushed herself against him, pulling his head to hers to kiss him. The angle was awkward, so Nikolai shook his boots off and turned around, cupping her cheek to deepen the kiss. He clambered in next to her, breaking away, and pulled the sheets up over them. At Y/n's pout he simply chuckled, and brought her down to lie next to him, and she slung her arm over his chest and her leg over his, falling asleep not long after.

Nikolai stayed awake a while longer, thinking over everything that had happened. He really didn't know where they went from here, but no matter what, he needed to tell her the truth before they got too far in.

Chapter 7

[randomfoggytiger]

X-Files Collector’s Edition: Curated melforbes

Ahhh, the beautifully atmospheric works of @melforbes. When I think of this writer's work, scent comes to my mind, first-- the clear, cold salt of a spring beach, the buzzed and antiseptic smell of the hospital, the bubbling richness of home-cooked meals, the fear-sweat of anticipation and domestic secrets-- followed swiftly by the innumerable fics about Mulder and Scully living something approaching a normal life. What's not to love?

Loose chronological order below~

@melforbes/@claup/everydaymsr (Ao3, WBM)

Christmas: A Symphony of Four Years

S1: ""I got you something,” he said as she donned her coat in the basement-office, as she wondered just how much snow was falling outside.""

Snow, Late February

Cancer Arc: ""Though he’d originally offered to sit with her during her chemotherapy, she’d deflected and asked him to drive her home instead; while she sat in that dreadful ward with all the other dreadful people undergoing the same dreadful treatment as she, she didn’t want him to see her lurch with nausea, didn’t want him to watch as she kept her eyes downcast and away from the women who were far deeper into treatment than she was. Then again, were any of these people worse off than she was?"" 

seaglass blue

Cancer Arc, AU: ""As they leave the church, their hands clasped in a bashful and half-hidden way, aimlessly thanking the overheard congratulations as they walk down the front steps, he asks her, So where to now? And she’s quiet as she slows her pace, and she brings their clasped hands behind themselves, as if hiding from herself, as if almost embarrassed, but when he looks into her eyes, he understands the embarrassment, the strange vulnerability of really caring about something, about someone. She looks at him wide-eyed and grows tense because she knows that he will give her whatever she asks for....

She doesn’t know where he’ll sleep tonight. They’ve kissed exactly once, and in a church no less. She could ask him to take her to the moon, and unfortunately, he would say, Well, I know a guy who….

“The ocean,” she manages, the parish behind her echoing with sentiments that don’t make any sense. This is the most chaste wedding they’ve ever seen, she thinks, then feels as if the exact opposite of that statement is true. “I’d like to go to the ocean.""

anesis

Post Redux II: ""the room was dark as she pulled “new skin for the old ceremony” off of the shelf, and in the kitchen, there was a plate of warm cookies waiting for them, maggie’s little way of convincing mulder that he was welcome here even if bill was still in town, still celebrating his sister’s miraculous recovery, and still questioning how exactly she could have been saved. with the sky turning to an evening red, she took the record out of the sleeve, her hands as graceful and steady as a surgeon’s, and when she brought it onto the aging record player, she seemed practiced in her motions until she set the needle down midway through the first song, skipping the introduction altogether.""

Oponthoud

S5?""He couldn't read the little guidebook to the Van Gogh museum because it was all in Dutch, so he followed her aimlessly through the exhibits. A museum of the world, not just of the country, he knew this was, but unfortunately, the art was wasted on him. Though she fit in here, a well-dressed woman in black pants and a cowl-neck sweater that made her look, in his opinion, like a casual supermodel, he was an outcast, a guy with holes in his coat who was tugged around by the prettiest girl in the room.""

Anonymous said: cold, ocean, phonebook

Drive: ""As dusk settled over the Californian sea beyond her, she flipped through a phonebook, thought of keywords for what she wanted: milkshakes, family-owned, titled as Chuck’s Place or Beverly’s Diner or even The Greasy Spoon. Biting her lip in concentration, she counted the waves beyond her little payphone, measured time with them as she looked over all of the listed restaurants from here to San Francisco. Loleta was an odd combination of seaside and rustic, rich and unpopulated; if she wanted a diner, she would have to drive, and after that day, she didn’t want to be stuck behind a wheel any longer than was absolutely necessary.""

in the woods

S7: ""he sets a steaming mug on the coffee-table beside her, the scent of hot chocolate curling her lips up. last night, he made them rib-eyes with spinach and mashed potatoes, used that ridiculously expensive grass-fed butter and everything; she picks up the mug, takes a creamy sip, and decides that she can summarize this weekend with the word rich.""

DC Cherry Blossoms

S7: ""it was late april in 1999 when padgett - or, rather, whoever was involved with padgett - tried to steal her heart, and as he remembers finding her covered in blood on the floor of his apartment, his heart speeds up anxiously; that night, she asked him to take her home, asked him to walk her up to her apartment, asked if he wouldn’t mind spending the night, so of course, he spent the night.... by six in the morning, she finally spoke.

“mulder?” he could remember her saying, his surname breaking the heavy silence in her home.

he hummed a response, faced her in bed.

“when do the botanical gardens open?""

What happens when mulder tries to wake Scully up? Or vice versa

S7: ""the last time one of these mornings occurred, she left the house in a pajama top by accident and had to drive back to change. after living with her for years, he’s developed a way to cope with mornings like this, so he stands up, sets her tea down on their bureau, and comes back over to the bed. 

“scully, you need to get up,” he says with just a hint of glee; this is his last warning.""

Hesitation

S9, AU: ""though he wants to call out in search of her, he stays quiet, leaves the paper on the kitchen table, heads upstairs to see if will’s asleep. along the upstairs hallway, she hung pictures of him and his sister together along with her family’s various christmas cards of yore; though he thought looking at photographs of the dead would bring a darkness he disliked into their home, he pauses at the pictures, smiles softly at how bright samantha’s eyes had been.""

Unnamed

S9, AU: ""Softly, he grips onto Will, stands up slowly in hope that their son will stay asleep in his arms. “When have we ever been cranky in the morning?”

At that, she gives him a look, but the smile he returns makes her soften. 

“He read the first two pages all by himself,” Mulder beams, walking toward the stairs while Will sleeps against his chest; she follows him closely, trying to keep her footsteps quiet."" 

taking a pregnancy test

Post S9: ""then, she leaves quickly, heads toward the gas station quick-mart in front of them. as she walks away, she tries and fails to keep her gait confident; though she wants him to think she's indifferent, the sheer possibility of this has tears stinging her eyes. the terrible beauty of a second chance makes her feel as though the world isn't so bad anymore, as though they could live in peace together for the rest of their lives. though she knows she should feel empty from all that has been taken from her, the idea alone makes her feel whole. despite how she wishes she didn't, she wants this so badly with him."" 

19 please :)

Pre-IWTB: ""i like it,” he says through a mouthful; she stares up at the ceiling, her eyes softly transfixed on how white and unmoving such a thing can be. while they travelled, she stole and read a copy of american gods, could remember how shadow kept seeing little things that made him remember he was no longer in prison; the house keys, the car she bought in her own name using her own bank card, being able to order a pizza over the phone, the heady silence only known as home, they all came back to her with a frightening familiarity...""

where i live, it's snowing

Pre-IWTB: ""he could at least do the housework, keeping the sheets soft and clean, passing her a fresh towel as she stepped out of a steaming bath, washing the dishes even though he sorely despised the chore. however, no matter how educated he could grow in the ways of living far away from other people, there were some things that required more than just a manual saw and a geezer. 

“don’t call yourself a geezer,” she’d said while they’d watched their neighbors, outfitted with a chainsaw and young men’s naive muscles, chop the fallen tree from an environmental disruption to easily-burned wood.""

in the heat

Pre-IWTB: ""she pretends to stare at her watch, as though she were actually counting the minutes before he came out of the water; taking up a spot by her hips, daggoo sits on her towel, anticipating everything in a mirror-image of mulder himself. finally, she looks away from her watch, sucks her lips in as she says, “time’s up.”

then, his smile grows wider as he reaches down, takes off her sunglasses and leaves them on the towel; in swift motions, he picks her up, then throws her over his shoulder, walks straight for the water. as he starts to wade in, she can’t stop laughing.""

at night

Pre-IWTB: ""around eleven-thirty, something stirs him from sleep; groggily, he looks around for a cause, sees scully sitting up in bed. if it's passed eleven and scully isn't asleep, then there's a definitive reason, so he slowly sits up and joins her.""

having lunch

Pre-IWTB: ""the first thing she finds is a little sticky note, i love you! written on it in mulder’s handwriting."" 

sunday, 3am

Pre-IWTB: ""It’s okay,” he whispered, the bag of ice in his hand hovering before her, his brain buzzing in the overtired way he used to feel accustomed to. If his circadian rhythms were reliable, then he and his body estimated that three in the morning, maybe half past, had come and gone. A long time ago, she’d told him that keeping lights on from the nighttime hours of ten-to-ten harmed the brain’s ability to produce melatonin, but he figured that light would be the least of their worries tonight.""

downpour, early october

Pre-IWTB: ""his phone on speaker and left on the kitchen counter, he'd chopped vegetables for dinner while talking to her, his knife-cuts careful and slow. age had made his hands clumsy, as she so loved to point out when he got a little too cocky with his chopping. after last week's stitches incident, his thumb still intact but just barely, he wouldn't take any chances.""

saying "I love you" without saying anything at all

Pre-IWTB: ""...she’s stuck in stopped bumper-to-bumper traffic on the highway, her eyes closing in annoyance that an accident just had to occur after her bad day at work. thankfully, the guy ahead of her lets his brake-lights off; they’re finally moving. she sighs in thankfulness, but nonetheless, she knows it’s going to be a long drive home.

her purse is on the passenger’s seat, so she figures that reaching into it and taking her phone out so that she can call mulder is a good idea; she could dial his number in her sleep, so she barely has to look at the screen as she starts to make the call.""

at starbucks

Pre-IWTB: ""her drink always comes up first, and as she picks up the cup, she immediately takes off its lid, sighs at the sight of whipped cream on top. though she always makes it clear that she doesn’t want whipped cream, she’s rarely gotten a coffee without the dollop on top.""

Bubbles!

Post IWTB: ""she presses against the water with her hands, moves away from you while you look in between sea-fans and fire corals. though you’re thankful for the change, for the difference, you know these colors could never exist in the states, at least not in the part of the states where you both live, no matter how greatly you wish they would. out there, everything is grassy and earthy, the colors being those of mountains, canyons, freshwater lakes, but here, cold and warm fluorescents light up the strangely-blue water, and though you’re wearing goggles, the world comes through in perfectly clear technicolor. the fish are like pizza shop open signs, the reefs textured and endless, the sand flitted with pink flecks that shine out most when they’re stuck to her hands. after the bout of winter you’ve had in virginia, the warmth and vibrance of the maldives feel life-affirming, the combination acting as a brash awakening to the varying beauties of the world. you’re glad that your first true vacation together was to somewhere that feels like another planet.""

at the beach

Post IWTB: ""he'll call their order in eventually, but for now, he just wants to sit by the ocean and hold her warm hand. with the scent of the sea, the sound of her breathing, and the taste of sweet lemonade on his tongue, he feels relaxation deep in his bones. though he's always searched for life on other planets - and though this planet has recently given him reasons to look elsewhere based on the news - there are some parts of his life on this planet that leave him in joyful wonder, in awe of how beautiful and pure these pleasures feel.""

anabiosis

Post IWTB: ""...he stumbled over his shed pants and leaned too hard against her bedside table. at the time, she huffed a laugh, then ignored the piece of furniture altogether.

they only noticed that i was broken the next morning when she didn’t hear her alarm go off. though scully had remembered to clean out the fridge and take out the trash, she’d forgotten to empty the glass of water she kept on her bedside table, so when she stared down at the table, now a pile splintering and aged wood, she saw unrepairable cracks, a wet spot, and an unsalvageable clock."" 

How about if they try running together? Are they adorably frustrated with the height difference?

Post IWTB: ""though she invests in nice running clothes - most of them are incredibly expensive and from that one brand, something about lemons - he’s all about the cotton tee shirt and basketball shorts. however, this specific pair of basketball shorts has seen better days, probably ones sometime around 1995 or 1996. these shorts don’t stretch much anymore and have quite a bit of trouble staying up; she giggles under her breath whenever he has to pull them up.""

at a motel

Post IWTB: ""when he wakes, her side of the bed is empty, cold, and still a little damp; getting up, he looks through the sliding glass doors of their room, can just make out her red hair in the fog. her back to him, she stands just at the edge of the rocky beach beyond their motel, her gaze focused on the ocean. as pisces as can be, he smiles to himself as he puts on his shirt and shoes, then goes out to meet her.

they’re in new brunswick, but the weather and the surroundings still feel like maine, where they passed through in order to get here.""

beneath the stars

Post IWTB: ""we should install a skylight." 

"we can't install a skylight." 

"why not?" 

"because above us is the attic, not the roof. all we would get is a view of what we have stored up there."" 

coming home

Post IWTB: ""when she arrives home, her raincoat’s hood up to shield her from the unyielding downpour, he’s standing in the kitchen, a little cooking stain on his shirt; he stirs a large pot of soup, what he figures she’ll want after a long, cold day. as she steps out of her shoes - little duck-boots, too short to be worn in snow but the perfect height to wear when she needed to wear dress-slacks in the rain - and sheds her coat, he asks, “how was work?""

at chipotle

Post IWTB: ""he hovers behind her, both a step too far away and a step too close. as she’s complained before, these franchises are so loud, but they’re the healthiest fast-food she’s managed to find.""

at whole foods

Post IWTB: ""but scientists could’ve had their livelihood hinging on it, scully!” he says as she sighs but smiles, for she can’t take him into this store without having him notice something and go on and on about it until they’ve checked out. last time, he scrutinized over the bulk food section and how so many different varieties of the same-colored rice they had."" 

malneirophrenia

Post IWTB: ""she looks to him, then leaps down the porch-steps and races out into the grass.

she’s barefoot. she never goes barefoot.

as he always will, he follows her, his bare feet and aging heart protesting as he tries to catch up with her. though she’s tiny, she’s fast, faster than he can remember her being.""

having coffee

Post IWTB: ""she ducks into the shop, mulder at her heels as she closes the front door behind them; he retracts their umbrella, one that hardly kept them dry given the blustering winds outside. they came out here to damascus with the plan of hiking over the three-day weekend; however, the weather has had other ideas for them, has kept them holed up at an inn and reading in bed while the peak fall foliage rustles about outside.""

at the ballet

Post IWTB: ""he's not one for fine arts, particularly the modern or performance-based ones, but a month beforehand, she mentioned that she would love to take in a ballet, so here they are, him wearing a sport-coat and a tie she'd given him years beforehand, her wearing a little black dress and nude pumps.""

true minds (Ao3)

Post IWTB: ""There's..."

She paused, took a breath.

"I'd like to see something," she gave. "In the city."

"Are you asking me to go with you?"

She paused again.

"Yes," she gave, emphasis on the fricative, "but I'm not sure it's something you'd like to see."

"Is the ballet in town?" he half-joked.

"Meet me at the hospital as soon as you can?""

cioppino

Post IWTB: ""the flourless chocolate cake is settling in the fridge; the homemade gelato from that place she loves in town is milling about in the freezer; he baked fresh bread this morning, iced a bottle of sparkling cider just in case. now, he simply needs the cioppino to cooperate, and then, the night will be set, all of his variables taken care of; after that, all he needs to do is wait for her response.

he got the ring three days ago, claimed he was borrowing her car so that he could help an old lady from the library shovel her driveway.""

in sickness

Post IWTB: ""yesterday, scully came home with a cough, said that she must've picked something up from a kid in the emergency room; after calling in to say that she wouldn't be working the next day - she tended to play it safe when it came to sickness - she retired for the evening, her dinner being warm soup mulder made and served to her in bed; she was too thankful for the gesture than to complain that the vegetables weren't fully cooked. then, she mixed some honey and herbs - it was just a little cough, she swore, and all she needed was something to suppress it so that she could sleep - and went to bed with him alongside her. for hours, he knew she couldn't sleep, couldn't stop coughing long enough to let herself fall asleep. at one in the morning, he propped her up with some extra pillows, let her curl up next to him as she cringed against each cough.""

reazione

Post IWTB: ""for the nine hours they spent on a plane, he never once sought out entertainment. 

“and that’s a redox reaction,” scully explained over a series of inked and torn-up cocktail napkins, each advertising coca cola, deliziosa e rinfrescante in red text on one corner. “it involves a transfer of electrons, thus changing the oxidation number of the molecule.”

“so you lose or gain one?” mulder asked, the lighting above their economy-class - her insistence - seats sparse and dim, making him squint from behind his reading glasses.""  

on a bad day

Post Home Again: ""scully?” he asks, his voice softer than before, more aware. though he knows what day it is, he also knows that she’s best off when he doesn’t talk about it, when he lets her work and get through the day in whichever way she chooses. however, he cares deeply, sometimes to a fault, so now, he seems to see that there’s cause for concern. “are you alright?" 

then, she fully gives in to the sobs, hunches over on her desk, pushes that stupid salad out of the way. he can hear her - she knows that much for sure - but he stays silent nonetheless, waits for her to speak first. in between sobs, she wipes away tears, manages, "i miss my sister."" 

Love your stories! Please post one of your 'Scully is sick and Mulder takes care of her' fics...

Revival: ""doctors make the worst patients, scully told him once during their days working the x-files. there’s something about understanding what is wrong with you, he surmises, that makes enduring something like the flu all the more traumatic; though you may know exactly what is happening in your body, you still can’t stop it from happening.""

on his birthday

Revival: ""what’re you going to wish for?”

the reality is that there is nothing more he wants right now, nothing more he knows he can have. of course, he wishes for things like world peace and…he wishes things were never so dire or dark for either of them, summarizes all of those wishes with just that line. however, of the things he could wish for or want for his future, there is nothing, not when he has their life together. however, that’s all beside the point, so he asks, “don’t people usually sing before you blow out the candles?""

on sunday morning

Revival: ""when she wakes, he’s sitting up in bed, his book in hand, daggoo at his feet.

“good morning,” he says softly as soon as she stirs; while she looks up at him, he looks down, smiles a quiet, warm smile just for her. 

though she has woken up this way for many mornings now, has grown accustomed to sleeping next to him, there nonetheless remains an exquisite sense of peace within her whenever she wakes up next to him.""

Hi! I don't know if you want to do this prompt but MSR In a power outage. It just happened to me and for some reason I thought of your blog lol

Revival: ""how is it that chinese restaurants always have power when we don’t?” he asks as she sets their monopoly box on the kitchen table, nearly knocking over the container of shrimp fried rice in the process.

“must be fate,” she deadpans as she pulls the board out of the box, sets up the cash one the kitchen table; she’s memorized their starting amounts, always acts as banker when they play.""

feeding the dog

Revival: ""all i’m saying is that we’ve seen forbidden planet many, many times, but it’s been a long time since we watched something...”

she trails off as she takes the bag of dog food out of the pantry, takes the chip-clip from off of its rolled-over top. inside, there’s a scoop, and next to her on the counter is daggoo’s little bowl, one mulder bought and painted himself. light blue ceramic, white polka-dots, daggoo written in black print. it matches nothing else in the house.""

paleomnesia

Revival: ""i’ve told you this a million times over,” mulder insists with a lighthearted laugh. “plus, you were there too. no matter how many times i recount those events to you, they aren’t going to change, and your memory of them isn’t going to change.”

“i don’t want them to change,” she says softly....""

Thank you for reading~

Enjoy!

[chansaw]

ok. here it is. the longpost i've been too lazy to actually make until just now.

so, here's what happened. the google algorithm sometimes pushes links to articles it thinks you'll like on the mobile homepage. unfortunately, google knew enough about me to put this hellish article onto my screen:

read that headline. then read it again. really, really stare at it. stare into the abyss. eventually, it will stare back. it'll whisper in your ear: "the heathers reboot was good, actually."

i read the article, incredulous. but, to my surprise... the author had somewhat of a point? it's been five years since paramount unceremoniously aired the show in october of 2018 after its premiere was delayed at least twice due to mass shootings. then after another mass shooting occurred before the final two episodes of the ten-episode long season were supposed to air, paramount hastily aired a heavily edited ninth episode and scrapped the tenth entirely. as far as i can tell, the show is not available to be streamed freely on any streaming site (not even paramount's own paramount+), though you can rent or buy it from amazon prime. maybe the author was right. maybe it was time for a rewatch and reconsideration. i wouldn't even have to spend any money; i archived all ten episodes of the show onto one of my external hard drives back in 2018, so i plugged 'er in, drank a bit of fireball, and clicked play.

after episode five, i gave up. i couldn't stand it any longer. i slammed my laptop shut and went to bed.

needless to say, i have thoughts.

right off the bat, here's the biggest thing. i wish to god that someone other than the miserable pile of sweaty skin that calls himself jason micallef had been in charge of this show. it might not have saved it from its fate, but maybe it would have been at least watchable? a modicum more entertaining? when the show was originally announced, leslye headland (who would later go on to create russian doll) was attached as showrunner. later, it was announced that micallef would be showrunner instead, although headland directed the pilot and executive produced the series.

in my honest opinion, if leslye headland had remained in creative control, this would have been a much different - and, in my opinion, better - show.

i can't help but wonder how heathers (2018) would have turned out if she had stayed at the helm. would it have marred her career so badly that netflix would have never agreed to produce russian doll? would she still be notable enough to be given charge of the newest disney plus star wars show? perhaps her decision was for the best. perhaps she knew there was no saving this project, try as she might.

and people tried!!!! during my rewatch, i was enamored by the production design and slick lighting and cinematography. some of the costume design hasn't aged well, but when it hits, it hits. i have to give credit where it's due: it is a beautifully shot and designed piece of television.

if only its actors had given half as much of a shit.

grace victoria cox (veronica) and james scully (j.d.) both attempt to replicate their predecessors' cool sense of disillusion and disenchantment in their roles, but both just come off as totally and completely bored in every scene. j.d. is supposed to be darkly charismatic, but scully has the charm of a plank of rotting wood. they lack the spark of chemistry to get the audience to feel invested in their relationship. without convincing leads to anchor it, the show has to depend upon its titular heathers.

i am, of course, in no way biased at all, in any shape or form. just saying. but one thing the article gets right is that melanie field’s performance as one miss heather chandler shines. field is fucking brilliant and her screen presence is formidable. she makes the most of every line she's given, and is at turns, ruthless, hilarious, and even (gasp) sympathetic. i am so glad she’s been booked left and right in tv shows (such as amazon's a league of their own, a spin-off with much more respect for its source material) that showcase her immense talent since whatever the fuck happened here. but i'm not biased!!!

juan barquin, the author of this article argues that viewers and critics alike both misunderstood heathers (2018). micallef's brilliant satirical messaging flew right over our heads. it had a message, goddamnit, and the misinformed masses closed their eyes and ears because they didn't want to hear it. it almost reminds me of the starships troopers discourse that is currently enveloping the app formerly known as twitter. starship troopers was nearly universally panned upon its release but is now recognized as a prescient satirical romp that targets jingoism, nationalism, and the culture of forever wars. we didn't get it back in 1997, but we do now. unfortunately, this is not the case with paramount's heathers.

the main cause of all the brouhaha around heathers (2018)'s release, barquin says, is because of its "shameless criticism of American culture, the prioritization of guns as a faulty means of defense, and the educational system’s blatant ignorance around the actual needs of students." which, sort of? it is true that a rash of killings (such as parkland and the pittsburgh synagogue shootings) spurred paramount's decision to nuke the show from existence. the show does, in fact, directly address and involve such matters. unlike the movie, the show concludes with westerburg high blown to pieces and its students all dancing in a prom in heaven. which.... yeah. you can see why that wouldn't have played out well.

(it's worth noting that daniel waters, the screenwriter behind the REAL heathers, originally planned for the movie to end this way as well. but the suits at new world studios said that audiences wouldn't like it. reluctantly, he complied.)

and i do have to admit, there are moments of brilliance. westerburg's school shooting drills involve the drama teacher storming through the halls shooting students with silly string. if you "die", you get to go to "heaven" (a brightly lit room stocked with snacks). the survivors are ushered into the dark, cramped gymnasium and complain about how all the cool kids are in heaven now. teachers' desks are stocked with firearms, because as we all know, of course, the only thing that can stop a bad guy with a gun is a teacher with a gun. it's so absurd that it works.

but for the most part, the writing is sorely lacking. it seems like the folks in the writers' room spent hours sitting around the table trying to one-up each other with quippable quips, meme-able dialogue, and banter that matched the panache and dry wit of waters' screenplay. but what we got instead was "HAHHAHAHAH, QUEEF!" it's bad. it's so, so bad. the author's claim that “[t]he show rather impressively matches the film’s comic sensibilities with consistently funny episodes that are as pleasantly cruel as they are scathingly satirical” falls flat because, for the most part, the shows satire isn’t at all scathing or sharp.

there were so many moments of the show where i felt my whole body just light up with rage. it made me just so ANGRY because i could see shells and fragments of a better version of this show peeking through. instead, what we got is a show that made alt-right chuds say this:

i think the most offensive part of the whole article, though, is barquin's attempt to liken the show to bottoms. if anything, i'd argue that bottoms works better as a spiritual successor to heathers than the rebooted heathers itself! bottoms succeeds in every way that heathers (2018) fails: punchy and quotable dialogue, characters who manage to be both archetypal and multidimensional, all set in an exaggerated and heightened sense of reality that still feels lived in and real. most importantly, all of bottoms’ actors are firing on all cylinders; in heathers (2018), most of the leads are just there to get paid. i could go on, but that's a whole other post.

frankly, it's kind of incredible that paramount launched this show as the flagship of their new tv network alongside yellowstone (which is in its final season now with spinoffs on the way). they were really, really banking on this thing to have legs. but we live in a blessed timeline where this show is condemned to an eternity of oblivion. it's a bit of a pity, though, because... the writers envisioned some sort of american horror story-esque anthology setup and teased a “french revolution” second season at the end of the last episode. i kind of want to know where they were planning to go with that.

it could've been so very.

[tessa-quayle]

looking California and feeling Minnesota

Joel Miller x OFC Grace (and a nod to Joel x Tess)

Prompt: “what do you want from me?”

THANK YOU to the incomparable @jomiddlemarch​ for 1) creating this OFC and letting me take the character for a spin, 2) being the best beta reader and editing this so it’s actually readable, 3) the prompts, and 4) being generous and encouraging.  

Do yourself a favor and read the series she started on this OFC/Joel on her AO3.  It’s a loose fit series with a Ted Lasso AU crossover. This fic can be read alone here on tumblr and is so lovely

I haven’t written a fic in 5 years (an explanation, not an excuse) - you can find this one on AO3 here.  

Rating: M (language, a sprinkle of sexy-time spice, no full-on smut sorry) 

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary:  Joel says Tess’ name in his sleep. Grace (an OFC) asks too many questions.  Joel and Ellie are evasive.  Joel and Grace quarrel.  A scavenging mission becomes a cold war.  Little traumas everywhere.  

Pairings: Joel/Tess, Joel/OFC-Grace, OFC-Grace/OMC-Kian

Warnings/Heads-up: angst, brief allusion to torture and violence, politics, foreshadowing for season 2 if you squint, alcohol, post-coital angst, foreplay angst

It wasn’t the first dream he’d had about that afternoon in the rotunda.  

The gasoline scented air thick with dust and heat.  Black cables snaked on the tiled marble.  

“I never asked you for anything, not even to …”

"I felt the way you felt, Tess.  I’ve always had.”  

She arched her neck to the side, revealing a peach flesh tendril under the army green collar.  

“You flinched.”

“I’m - I’m sorry.”

Tess shrugged.  

He watched her thumb the silver wheel on the lighter again and again: flick, flick, flick.     

“You should go."

“I saved Ellie,” he offered.  

"Keep going, Joel.  Save who you can save.”   

Save who you can save.  A plea, a promise.  

Tess.  Joel whispered her name like a prayer, a secret.  Eyes shut, drool pooling on the corner of his partly open mouth, his right cheek pressed against the pillow.  

___

Joel.  Joel.  Grace repeated his name three, four times.   She’d already lightly run her fingers through the tufts of soft curls as she murmured into his left ear “Joel, you’re okay, you’re in Jackson, Wyoming.  This is Grace.”   

He jolted awake.   

“You ok?  Must’ve been some dream.”

____

Grace didn’t want to ask, she knew she shouldn’t, and that they don’t - not here, not now - but she wanted to know.  She had those types of dreams about Before Jackson - the ones that made you sit bolt upright in sweat drenched sheets.  

His name was Kian.  Tall, dark brown eyes.  A boisterous laugh that filled every room.  

“How’d you predict it’d fall so quickly?”  It was the month FEDRA had begun disappearing people in the Seattle QZ, mutilating corpses in the square.  She figured he’d give some answer about being the son of parents who fled Tehran during the revolution, some intergenerational trauma or imprinting, a Spidey sense of recognizing fascist fuckers lurking on a street corner.

“History rhymes.  You really thought our institutions were going to save us?  Bush v. Gore didn’t prove to you that the courts were never going to save us?”

He looked down at her as their legs tangled on a twin bed narrower than the one she had in college, a thin mattress against a wooden frame, rumpled sheets, the comforter and clothes strewn on the floor.

Outside the sirens blared as he whispered, softly chuckling into her hair: “Grace, babe, we save ourselves.”

And she failed at that.  

Grace never told a soul how ready she was that still-dark morning.  She’d heard his screams from her cell.  She was done.  Grief turning into a death wish.  A clean shot to the back of the head.  She imagined dead-Lauren quipping: that would have been enough.  

The FEDRA woman ripped off her blindfold and cut the zipties.  

It was dawn and streaks of red orange hovered over the darkened trees on the horizon, the moon a faint sliver in the purple gray clouds that filled the rest of the sky.  

“You came in the middle of the night to save my life at Harborview back in ’01.  I remember you - Dr Yang, yeah?” 

Grace swallowed and nodded, her head aching and dizzy, unable to recall how or what she’d done, whether she’d cauterized a bleeding stomach ulcer or merely fished out a bone lodged in the esophagus, how this officer must have mistaken her for someone else who’d done real heroic shit.

“This is what you’re going to do,” the FEDRA officer continued.

She rolled the body bag off the truck, a hard thump on the ground, and proceeded to throw Grace’s belongings at her feet, along with a revolver she removed from a holster, and pressed Kian’s cherry red Swiss army knife into her palm.  

 “You have one hour.  Bury your boyfriend, then get out.  Follow the train tracks.  Go east.  We’ll call this even.”

 ___

Ellie and Grace waited by the gate for Joel.  The sun already hot by mid morning, Ellie took off her hoodie and tied it around her waist.

Against her better judgment, Grace blurted out: "Hey, may I ask you a question?  You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…

The fourteen-year-old eyed her skeptically.  “Um, okaaay.”   

“Who’s Tess?”

“Tess?”  Ellie echoed in a lilt.

“Yeah, Tess.”

“Um,” Ellie’s eyes darted behind them, as if to make sure they were alone.  “Um, Tess was Joel’s partner in the Boston QZ.  She died on our way here.  The Fireflies had paid her and Joel to take me to this a hospital in Salt Lake City where um, my condition was going to help create some vaccine.”

“Wait.  What’s this about a vaccine?   What do you mean, ‘condition?’”

Ellie pushed up a sleeve to reveal her forearm, the gnarled bite mark resembling a skin graft, a soft rubbery keloid. 

Wide-eyed, Grace exclaimed: “Oh God. Was that a bite? You’re immune? What the hell happened in Salt Lake? Is that where you and Joel went last year? What’d they do? Did they run blood tests? Do a spinal tap? How did…?”

Grace was relentless in her line of interrogation.  She asked Ellie a total of twenty plus questions about drugs, equipment, storage, procedures, doctors and nurses and staff, the Fireflies, how she originally got bit, who was with her, who found her, when she realized she was immune.  She didn’t probe any further about Tess.  Maybe it was that death had become so present, she felt no urge to dig for details, and imagined somewhere Tess and Kian and maybe Lauren were throwing back drinks, exchanging stories about those they left behind.

Ellie began to stammer: “Shhhhh. Stop. I don’t know. I don’t know! I mean, I’m immune, for sure. But I don’t remember much - I was drugged up. Joel had to get me out of there when the raiders attacked.  He said they didn’t need me, that there were other kids immune, too.”  

She looked down before continuing. 

“I remember Marlene and then waking up in the back of a car in this paper hospital gown….”  Glancing up, slightly panicked, Ellie pleaded: “You can’t tell anyone, Grace. I swear. About me. About all of this. We can’t talk about this anymore.”

____

“Joel, don’t freak out.”  Grace drew in a deep breath. “I just thought you should know.  That I know about Ellie and what happened in Salt Lake. And I promise I won’t tell anyone. I’m just glad you both made it back … back safe.”  She wanted to say “home,” but was unsure what that word may mean to him when she couldn’t figure out what it meant to her.   

Joel looked at her, startled, and opened his mouth to reply before she interrupted and began peppering him manically with questions, her curiosity getting ahead of her. 

“What did they have? What did they say? Was there a lab? Do you remember who you talked to?”  She began gesticulating wildly, a habit she slipped into when excited and talking too rapidly.  “There was this woman Abby I met when l left the Seattle QZ and she told me her dad was some doctor out in Utah or Colorado trying to do something with vaccines and I asked her how they had the technology or a way to operationalize it in the middle of all of this and it just sounded too good to be true. You know? And then Ellie said you said there were other kids like her? Were they all there?  How…”

Joel waved his hand dismissively and shrugged.  “I don’t remember much about it. I saw Marlene, but I don’t remember anyone else.  Lots of clickers turned up. Last thing I know I grabbed Ellie and we got the hell out." 

“Holy shit, raiders AND clickers? Ellie said raiders attacked.”

“Well, yeah, both,” Joel backtracked.  “I can’t recall every detail…” He straightened his posture and squared his broad shoulders, crossing his arms defensively and she couldn’t help but spy the muscled forearms exposed below his rolled sleeves.  ”How did you even start talkin’ to Ellie ‘bout this?”

“I dunno.” Grace mumbled, looking down at her boots and blushing. “I asked her who Tess was and then…”

“How did you hear about…?” His eyes darkened. “We don’t talk about Tess. We don’t ever bring up Tess.”

Staring back at his scowl, Grace felt her ears burning and heart pounding.  She bit her lip trying not to say what she wanted to yell: you brought Tess up first. Said her name in my bed. 

“Dude - what the fuck. It’s fine. We all have our histories. I’m just …”

“Well, we can keep our fucking histories to ourselves.”  Joel snapped.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Joel. You love who you love. I’m just trying to…” Her fingers curled into fists on the frayed straps of her backpack, its bottom slack since she’d kept it half-empty to hold anything they’d find, the stitched-over seams loose for once.  

“What do you want from me?” Joel growled. 

Dead-Lauren would have warned Grace: You get really petty when you’re angry. Grace stomped ahead deliberately to his right, up the rolling incline swatting away the wildflowers brushing her knees, muttering under her breath Not this fucking bullshit.

“What did you say?” He turned to her.

“Nothing.” Bile in her throat, her voice rising into a shout.  “Nothing, alright?  I want nothing.” She quickened her pace as she looked back and spat out: “And don’t you dare fucking talk that way to me again.”

___

Ellie was stuck.  Between Joel’s asshole voice and Grace’s resting bitch face, their fourteen days were painfully silent hikes interrupted by surprisingly successful scavenging: dilapidated convenience stores, an untouched mom-and-pop pharmacy, an abandoned vegetable garden overgrown with mint.  Ellie launched her best puns and jokes, none of which landed, both Joel and Grace humoring her by letting out the occasional chuckle, and then marching quietly ahead up yellow grassy hills or down rocky pastures.  They stole glances at one another when they thought they could, glimpses quickly turning into glares when Ellie caught them in the act, the teenager rolling her eyes and shaking her head in exasperation.

In the evenings around the campfire, a crackling flame pierced the silence as they ate wordlessly, pine and sage and forest moss wafting in the smoke.  

____

“Grace.”

She shifted on the boulder and lifted her head at the sky, trying to find Orion, fiddling with the zipper on her fleece, pretending not to hear him.  

Joel walked toward her and held out his worn bronze honey-colored jacket, “weighty and warm,” she had remarked when months ago he first draped it around her thin shoulders, both of them huddling under the stars, him pressing a chaste kiss on her cheek.

“Grace,” he tried again now with the jacket at arm’s length: “Here, take this. It’s freezing.”  

“No thanks, I’m fine.” She replied evenly, a sharp breath of cold air rose into the dark.

He refused to plead.  “Okay, suit yourself.  But wake me up later, alright?  Ellie’s exhausted and I’ll take her turn.”

“Whatever,” her eyes narrowing, “I’ll do the whole night.”  She’d worked 100-hour call weeks for three years throughout a malignant residency program.  She could survive the chill and long hard hours, even loneliness.  She wasn’t ready to endure the nearness of Joel.   

The following day they trekked back to Jackson and helped restock the community pantry and clinic stash, carefully lining the dusty jars and bottles on the shelves.  Tommy and Maria greeted them, initially not noticing how Grace and Joel barely regarded one another.

“We’ve got dinner ready for y’all,” Maria said.  “Grace - it’s the fancified top ramen recipe you shared - poached egg and chashu pork slices. Come over before you head back to your place. You must be starving.” 

Grace winced. She was famished, but found herself more exhausted than hungry, and just wanted to be alone.

She smiled wanly at Maria: “Thanks so much, but I’m gonna head back. I’m sorry. I’ll see you around?”  She turned on her heels to walk away before she could catch Tommy looking questioningly at his brother.

When she reached her house, she closed the door behind her, slumped to the floor, and sobbed.

___

Grace used to have a post-call ritual.  Riding the post-call high before crashing into the post-call delirium, she’d take a luxurious hot shower so long the mirrors would steam and the fresh gardenia scented soap perfumed the bedroom.  She’d pop in the Before Sunrise DVD and lounge with a Pinot from Walla Walla or Dundee.  While the leftover spaghetti was reheating in the microwave, she’d momentarily debate calling the nurses station to make sure she’d placed that PRN order for trazodone.  

 That was then. Now it was midnight. She did indulge in a warm shower and scrubbed away the grime from the terrible-no-good-two-week expedition. She even allowed herself a bigger dollop of shampoo than usual, and a squirt of travel-sized conditioner she’d saved for rare occasions.  She combed her wet hair and let it air dry and pulled the oversized Lollapalooza t-shirt over her head, the hardwood floors creaking beneath her bare feet.  This tee - thinned over multiple washes with red block letters now a pale pink - was one of three items she still possessed from Before.  

1992, Shoreline.  Converse sneakers indented the muddy grass.  Amps blaring as a chord from an electric guitar revved up the crowd, two teens yelling at each other.

LAUREN!  This is way too big!

That’s all they had left!  Just take one - it can be a pajama top!

Grace decided to make herself an old-fashioned. The range in her kitchen was temperamental. After repeatedly turning the knob click click click and click click click and click click click with no burst of a purple flame, she finally resorted to striking a match against the black grate to light her stove.   

She prepared simple syrup to mix with the whiskey she borrowed from Tommy. Equal parts sugar and water, foam swirling in liquid amber in a pot. She wished she’d had Angostura bitters, but the unspoiled orange would have to do. She was pressing a blade against the pebbled skin to peel the rind when she heard a loud knock at the front.  

Wiping her hands quickly, she peered out the window and saw him standing on her porch.  She imagined real-Lauren, the ultimate wingwoman, whistling at the sight of a broad-shouldered dark, handsome stranger showing up at Grace’s doorstep, his hair slicked back, the green flannel somehow bringing out the glint of grey in his scruffy beard.  Almost resentful he cleaned up better than she did, Grace exhaled loudly and attempted a pep talk: Keep it together, don’t fucking cry.

She opened the door.  She held his gaze and found his brown eyes softening. 

“What is it, Joel?”  She cleared her throat, trying not to let her voice tremble. “What do you want from me?”

He stepped forward and leaned down to kiss her, one hand cupping her cheek and the other around her waist, and only when he crossed the threshold did she finally pull her mouth from his, breathless.  She looked up at him and stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck, her lips meeting his for a more urgent, bruising, hungry kiss.  Tangled, they stumbled into the other room, she led him to the kitchen chair before climbing on top of him, his jeans scraping against the back of her bare thighs.  It wasn’t until she nearly forgot about the concoction simmering on the stove, the syrup thickening into a caramel, that she realized that was the only answer he gave her.   

_____

“This used to be some old boyfriend’s?”  Lying on the edge of her bed, Joel reached down to the floor with one arm to pick up the shirt to hand it to her.  

“Um, no,”  Grace replied, not meaning for the emphasis to sound so harsh, “It’s mine.  I actually went, believe it or not.”  She bunched up the tee before throwing it into the corner across the room.

“I don’t recall them letting little kids into Lollapalooza,”  he teased.

“I was 15, Joel,” she bristled.  “Definitely not little.”

“Figured you were younger.”

“Sorry to disappoint.”  She plopped her head down onto a pillow and turned away from him.  

“You don’t disappoint.”  He wrapped an arm around her waist, interlocking his fingers with hers, squeezing her palm.  

“Sure, whatever.”  She pulled the covers over her breasts and nestled her back against his chest, closing her eyes.  He kissed her neck and shoulder before shifting his weight and rolling onto his back.  She heard him take a deep breath.

“What a lineup that year,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling.  “Tess loved those bands.”

Surprised, Grace opened her eyes and laid still on her side, slowly smiling to herself: “Yeah?  She had great taste.” 

[ddwcaph-game]

Hey....so i'm back again (i'm anon who ask you about MC carry Rosie at the end) sorry if i being grumpy

So this time my other MC who is tall and average build try to run after Rosie at the end but she don't be there just in time. I try so hard to play MC but she still can't run after Rosie and for some reason her grace just 26% and ber grace and knowledge just random lower for no reason i don't know what to do anymore and i going to cry now (sorry for being dramatic)

Also it that option for MC to wear a hat? I want my little guy (my small MC) to wear his hat, i headcanon his big sister (star twin) buy it for him so he wear it anytime.

Hi, hello again!

Sorry if you're having trouble with it, but the achievement for saving Roselyna is supposed to be hard to get, as you're not actually supposed to save her. Even if you do manage to save her, you still get the bus choice (as the bus will now head towards Wayne and Paddy instead).

Like I said, it might be a little easier to save Rosie in the next update because of the new traits. And if you've finished a playthrough, please send me your playthrough codes via the survey! The game is still a work-in-progress, and the codes you send will help me balance and determine the appropriate difficulty for the stat checks.

Anyway, that seems like a fun thing to headcanon! Unfortunately, I can't promise I'll add anything like that, especially because I will be turning DDWCaPH! into a visual novel. There is a TON of customization stuff to draw already, and if I add one hat, I also need to include other types of hats, and then I'll have to comb through and edit all the chapters just to include that one line where the hat gets mentioned.

I could simply just add it to the list of accessories, but there's a lot of other things to consider: Does MC take it off whenever they go indoors? What would the characters say when they see it? Does it get blown off by the wind? What happens to the hat in the scene where MC faints? It's a whole new layer of customization that I am not willing to deal with.

I'm sorry for the ramble, but I'd rather not add an option, than add it but never mention it again. I hope you understand. 😅

[kurtkunkleismybbg]

Dining At The Ritz: HiTR Edition

Summary: Original Prompt: Crossover with good omens: Castiel gets jealous of Crowley calling Aziraphale angel all the time and asks Dean why he never calls him Angel.

Dean: Angels are awful, Cas.

Cas: You seem to very much like this angel, Dean.

[Instead of Canon!Dean and Cas, it's THiTR Dean and Cas. All you need to know is Dean can turn into a snake and loves Cas to pieces]

Pairing: Destiel, Aziracrow

Warnings: None

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

“Angel, be a doll and order more of that delicious devil cake please?" Crowley asks. "Of course dear boy," Aziraphale replies.

Castiel looks at Dean, who’s staring at him instead of eating. The pure adoration in his eyes never fails to startle him, and it’s not that he doubts that but, “Why don't you call me angel?" he asks.

Dean frowns, still staring at him before he says, “Angels feel awful. Save for you Aziraphale.”

“You seem to very much like this angel,” Castiel retorts. And he knows it’s childish, but he pouts. Only Dean could make him feel put out at this.

Dean mirrors his pout, leaning forward. “You’re not just any angel, you’re mine. Have been since the day we met.”

Castiel promptly circuits, and feels his Grace attempt to flee his vessel.  That is, until he feels smooth, cool scales on his skin. Then he panics, because if he made Dean ‘snake out’, not only would he not forgive himself, Sam would kill him. He slams back into his body with enough force to crack the floor beneath him. 

When he opens his eyes, he finds Dean staring up at him through slitted black eyes. However, he’s otherwise human. Cas’s eyes flick down to their joined hands, where he felt the scales. Dean watches he slowly turns over his hand, revealing brilliant green scales.

“Oh Dean,” Because what else can he say?

“I didn’t want you to leave,” 

And Cas is filled with such a sense of love and being loved that he doesn’t know what to quite do with himself. So, he grabs Dean's face in his hands and kisses him like his life depends on it. And the drag of fangs on his lips let him know how just how close Dean was to revealing himself and it makes him ache. 

Dean shudders with his whole body as he leans into it. He’s shaking in his angel’s hands like he’ll fall apart at any moment. And maybe it’s true so Cas holds on tight because the last thing he wants is that and maybe he’s a little selfish for being glad that no one else can make Dean feel that way.

“Ahem.”

They look across the table at their hosts, one of which is blushing madly and the other pretending they don’t know a soul at the table. Cas feels his own blush tinge his cheeks as he looks away.

“Sorry, it seems we got a bit, uh, carried away? Dean sort of has that effect,” he apologizes.

Dean hisses in delight, fangs poking out over his bottom lip. Cas has to tear his gaze away, knowing he doesn’t have the strength to keep him from kissing Dean like that again.

“You’re young and in love, don’t worry about it,” Crowley says, no longer pretending he doesn’t know them. “But please, a little more decorum?” Aziraphale asks.

Dean sighs, pouting fiercely. Cas gently slides him off his lap and into his own chair, holding his hand all the while. “We can have decorum, can’t we dearheart?”

A disgruntled hiss is his only answer. Cas looks away, trying not to laugh at him. It’s so disgustingly cute when Dean sulks or pouts (or both when he feels especially put out, like now). 

“Oh my Heaven that’s adorable. How are you two even real?” Aziraphale coos.

[linusbenjamin]

Hey! I loooove your Lost edits so much. It’s my fave show of all time and I love seeing more activity in the tag, thank you ☺️

Your first watch of the show has coincided with my latest rewatch (I’ve just started s3, so I’m a tad behind you). But as someone watching it for the first time I just HAD to stop by and ask how you’re finding it so far and what your thoughts are? Tell me everything! No thought or detail is too small, I love talking about Lost so much 🥲

oh my god thank you so much!!! i just love it when lost fans come by here to say me they love seeing activity on the tag again and they say my gifs made them rewatch the show (i can't check tags cause ✨spoilers✨) it's shocking to see there are very few people who actually gif popular shows like lost, breaking bad etc. and i've even realized there are not any marvel fans anymore like it used to be, i don't know how i feel about this, but i'm glad to contribute 🥹

that's so great! <3 it's so great to see people are still rewatching it after 19 years because that's what this! show! deserves! i didn't know what it was about and after i read it, i said "a plane crashed on an island and some people survived? eh it's not that interesting and so cliche" and later my brother watched it and he was literally obsessed with it and he was very pissed off that i was constantly putting it off. so i started and the first two episodes were the most intense and chaotic episodes i've ever watched in any series 😬 so as i keep watching, i realized i love mystery series (which was sth i've noticed about myself) and i absolutely love science fiction and psychological series. it was so hard to keep so many character's name in mind at first and you know better than me, there are SO many details in such random places that i bet, most people didn't even notice in the first watching 😅 it's like, the smallest thing you saw in a random episode of s1 turns out to be something much bigger in a random episode of s3 etc. 😅 so since i can't see all of the easter eggs, i watch it with my brother mostly who has seen it 3 times and after finishing the eps he says "did you notice that" and then he goes "look there are numbers right there and there's hurley on the tv of the people jin went to kill" etc. 😅 but you know, this series is magnificent and full of surprises and it always ends with killer cliffhangers and now i'm on mid s3 and desmond started to keep saving charlie's ass, i've seen ben and his people, i feel like i'm really into the show and the scifi part of it 😅 i don't know how it will all fit together, you know, everytime roll credits, i'm like "i dunno what i've just watched and how it's gonna play out by the end but it's freaking exciting" 😅 i'm really glad that i'm watching lost at 22 because lost is mostly about life itself, good memories, regrets, personalities, sins and grace, there's always a moral of the story in the end. so, if i had watched it when i was little, i probably wouldn't understand a shit. but now i feel a little more mature and i've been through a few things so the character's stories are a bit more relatable now.

so what i'm most curious about is that, now i'm on mid s3 and i found out claire's father is WHO!!! (freaking out!!! not spoiling this cause there might be someone reading) can you say that i've seen the most of this show OR things has just started and i've seen nothing yet 😂 i can't make gifs a lot 'cause i'm currently busy with life and my thesis but giffing this show is fun, so if you have specific requests, i'm writing which episode i last watched in my pinned post, u can check it out from there ✨ i'm so glad you had to stop to ask me this, lost is going pretty mysterious and chaotic and i'm so thankful for that 😂

[anime-and-toon-oc-time]

(More Freddy head lines! Todd edition because the kids somehow got roped into a saving the world plot and somehow they have to save everything again thanks @hoshi-neko-hikari)

EB:oi! Big and stupid!

EK:we need the head for something. We've found something in the library to help us.

Freddy:I'm suprised you two can read. But fine I'll hold this over yall.

*after they get him all set up in a machine infront of a dimensional door.*

Freddy:Wait a minute..why am I here? These need bifrost crystals or Bifrost light..

EK:okay hold still we'll just...shine this bright light into your eyes.

EB:*laughs as the machine works and the door soon becomes usable by everyone so they can go where they need to.* YES!

Freddy:MOTHER****ERS! TODD THROW ME! ANTLERS FIRSTS!

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

*Todd picks up a ring for a set of gear.*

Freddy:oooo jewelry! Put it on a horn I'll pull it off!

Todd:no.

Freddy:aw. <:(

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

*Todd gets burned.*

Freddy:You're on fire! And for once I don't mean that as a compliment!

*companion gets frozen with his head.*

Freddy:got ice up my nose!

----------------‐------------------—--------------------------

EK:on days like this I miss my mom.

EB:same.

Todd and Freddy:I don't.

Hikari:...*sad whine.*

Todd:Crap! Hey hey hey we'll save them!

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

Todd:*walking around.*

Freddy:hey your strength reminds me of a woman I've heard about.

Todd:really?

Freddy:yes...a woman with violet hair with the beauty and grace of a nypth the strength of a demon and the flexibility of a serpent but unfortunately the hunger of a ghoul.

Todd:really? She sounds strong.

Freddy:yes she was and had a gentle heart and a drive to help children. She joined a monster hunter corps after...

Todd:after?

Freddy:she grew up in a town where men saw women as pretty little dolls and not much more...and well she wanted nothing more then a family and unfortunately her powers and hunger scared all men and women away from her I've heard so many insults when I came to her old home one day to find out why she left after I heard she was thinking about visiting..it turns out she had an arranged marriage to some local blue blood rich dweeb. And the absolute tool stood her up and left her there! And in front of the whole damn town said that only a rabid beast of a monster would want to love her...

Todd:wow....thats..

Freddy:i..lost control. But don't lose fear she found her love and friends who'd go to hell and kill the devil to make her happy.

Todd:so are you saying I'm strong?

Freddy:In more ways than one, yes. I am proud to be your brother. You have her heart as well. I wouldn't be surprised if you were her descendent after all time travel changes things. And she passed over a few 100 years ago.

Todd:about this losing control what happened?

Freddy:the dweeb got on his high horse mocked the woman again and then her husband then her wives and her kids and got the town in.

Todd:and?

Freddy:....I burned the whole town to the ground and pummeled the dweeb bloody.

Todd:The Fire of Hankno.

Freddy:not...my best moment....

[eirwenxmp]

"Oh darling it would not be good for your business to spoil me like this," Karina pouted even though her lithe fingers were dancing towards the pastries in an effort to pick one up. Eirwen's pastries were indeed the best, and Karina felt no qualms in expressing so with a soft moan of delight as she bit into one of the delicate confectionaries. "Oh I have missed this," She sighed, polishing off the pastry before looking at Eirwen again. "It is quite my luck we have found each other again~" She beamed at the other, all warmth. Well as much warmth as somebody of Karina's ilk could possibly have. "Now if you are here, then Giselle must be around the corner somewhere? I wouldn't be surprised if most people from my past would pop up here on the island. It seems to be the thing these days. All though I'm quite curious on how you ended up here, sweet."

“Oh? I didn’t know you cared so much about my little business, I’m touched,” Eirwen’s eyes smiled, harmless sarcasm dripping from her lips as she spoke to Karina. 

It still felt like an odd dream, watching her ex-business partner standing there in the kitchen, tasting all the finest her bakery got to offer. The whole scenery looked as if Karina was still the polished heiress to a hefty fortune of blood money, as if the infamous family feud and the assassination group had never happened. Eirwen could not tell how much Karina have learned about her, but she guessed she herself had known a lot, probably too much, about the other. If this was how having the upper hand felt like, then she was feeling it, quiet strongly so. 

“As long as you pay the next times you come, sakharok, for my kindness is exclusive limited edition,” Eirwen’s smile reflected the warmth she perceived from Karina’s, hoping it was enough to brighten the tone of the non-joke she said. 

With a graceful movement, she took the tea tray and carried it to the back room, knowing that Karina would take the cue to follow. She heard the other demigoddess clearly, yet waited until they were safely away from the innocent’s eyes and ears to resume talking. 

She invited Karina to sit on the couch, while she settled herself down on the armchair on the left.  

“I’m sure you will meet Giselle soon. She was the one who told me about this island, and this bakery used to belong to Psyche, her mother,” she explained, eyes temporarily left Karina to fil their cups with some hot green tea. “I’ve learned that Circe is my creator for a while, in a dream, believe it or not, so it just makes sense to have a taste of life here.” 

Eirwen gave Karina most of the truth, only saving a tiny bit of it, about her being sort of desperate for a hideaway from those fishy people with their fishy potion orders. There was a hint of caution in the way she looked back at Karina, but it was drowned by the urge to know more. 

“Your turn now, how did you end up here yourself?” She lifted up her cup of tea and blew it cool before taking a tiny sip, an act to cool down her own eager curiosity. “And I assume you’ve caught up with some of your good friends?”

blooming in chaos | k + e

reconnection with @eirwenxmp

Karina was not prone to sentimentality. no tears shed, just shoulders squared and proceeding forward. All things considered, Karina knew there was very little thing she needed to weep about. Despite the complete eradication of the world and life she knew, she was positively cheerful about the life she now can build. As cheerful as a grandchild of Koschei can.

But sentimentality had a way of creeping up on you, Karina mused to herself as she sampled the frosting of the sans rival, a soft hum escaped her lips. It tasted...familiar, almost too familiar, as if she were back in Moscow, in her grandfather's hotel, sampling the restaurant's desserts and....

"Now I can be mistaken..." Her voice carried as she sauntered her way towards the counter of Black Forest Bakery. "But these confections taste very familiar...." A smile bloomed across her face that seemed positively predatory.

[starseungs]

➳ up all night. skz

pairing | skz ot8 x gn!reader

staying up to finish a project doesn't always go well. luckily, you have someone to make it all alright.

genre | fluff, humor, kinda college au, boyfriend!skz — 0.2k words (per member)

warnings | some sleep deprived actions,, if thats a warning

note | its been a while since i posted smth here, so here's one? finally? idk 😭 anw i hope yall enjoy even if its kinda short!

2022 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

⌗ bang chan !

"That's it, you're sleeping."

You look up from your blinding laptop screen to the sight of Chan crossing his arms, eyes heavy with disapproval. Blinking sluggishly, you managed a tired smile to be pasted on your fatigued face.

"It's fine," you waved him off lightly, immediately gluing your eyes back to the device in front of you. "I'm fine."

"Love, I highly doubt that." he replied, an exasperated sigh filling the room. You lightly glared at him in an attempt to prove your point.

"What do you know?" you grumbled instinctively as a response. Chan looked at you with utter disbelief, his eyes widening almost comically.

"Are you really asking me that? Out of all people?"

Oh. He got you there. Chan himself didn’t exactly have the best relationship with sleep—you often found yourself on the worrying side when it comes to his well-being. And yet here you were making him do the same thing.

Realizing this is a rare situation, you decided to use it to your advantage. With newfound speed, you quickly saved your work before slamming the laptop shut, practically jumping on the bed to make yourself comfortable in record time.

"I want hugs," you mumbled softly, directing your attention back to your confused boyfriend. Chan laughed at your actions, seeming to finally catch on to the plan you formed on a whim. With an amused shake of the head, he walked towards the bed as well.

"Yes, your highness!"

⌗ lee know !

"Damn," you heard a groggy voice drawl out across the room, informing you that your grumpy boyfriend had awoken. "How are you still awake?"

It's been hours since you started this paper, back when the sun was still up. You're very much aware of how much time has actually passed—especially since Minho has been asleep for quite a while now too. But you've made it this far, right? A few more should be fine.

"Nevermind that. How did you even sleep with my constant keyboard smashing?" You didn't even have to look at him to know Minho was probably silently mocking you for changing the subject.

There was a sound of sheets rustling before he finally graced you with a reply, "It's like ASMR."

"Well," you yawned, turning a bit to get a glimpse of his form melting into the fluffy bed. "At least one of us gets to sleep tonight."

Minho suddenly props up, giving you that boyish grin you love so much, effectively melting your tense state ever so slightly. "May I interest you in swapping places?"

You raised an eyebrow. "You want to write a research paper?" 

"Do you?" 

Silence echoed through the walls, each second amplifying your regret for pulling an all-nighter. You stared at Minho in shame, not wanting to shatter your pride out loud at the most ungodly of hours.

"Exactly. Now, come here and sleep."

⌗ changbin !

"Hey," you started with a dazed sound in your voice, the sudden noise startling Changbin next to you. "Spreadsheets are kind of like cut brownies."

He sat up at lightning speed, looking at you in massive concern. You only returned the gaze, turning the situation into an impromptu staring contest that ended with Changbin letting out a confused sound. "I'm sorry. Come again?"

Does he not see it? The cells are exactly like pieces of brownie, rectangular and all. Maybe the comparison was brought up due to your hazy state, but you could see it. You were determined to prove that the prolonged hours of you being awake weren't affecting you in the slightest.

"But like, they're white." you continued with the chosen one-sided conversation topic. "Do white chocolate brownies exist?"

"Oh, good question. Let me ask Felix—wait no, turn your laptop off!" your boyfriend complained, albeit still at a loss for words.

"I have to finish this though?"

Changbin groaned, finally getting a sense that you were not entirely conscious at the moment. "Babe, you don't even like brownies."

"What?"

Your boyfriend sighed, reaching out to cup your face with firm hands. It was when you felt your cheeks encounter a steady warmth that you realized just how sleepy you were. Changbin smugly grinned at the sight of you yawning, glancing at the laptop seated above the sheets with a conflicted expression. Finally making up your mind, you left the comfort of his hold to reach for the abandoned device.

"Just let me save my progress..."

⌗ hyunjin !

"What's a good research design?"

Hyunjin looked up from the small corner he positioned himself in, moving his attention to your slouching form near your messy desk littered with opened books, notebooks, and just... paper. You were staring blankly at the computer screen, looking like you had all the soul sucked out of you.

"I don't know," he shrugged, despite you not looking at him directly. "Maybe leaves as the borders?"

You side-eyed him, trying to see if he was being serious about the recommendation. "Did you really just say that?"

Hyunjin whined at your judging reaction. "Leave me alone! I'm trying to meditate," he grumbled, feeling annoyed all of a sudden. "And you asked for my input."

"And by meditate, you mean paint." You chuckled, deeply endeared by his sulking.

"It's my zone," Hyunjin pointed the paintbrush he was holding towards you, waving it around like a wand for more effect. "Focus on your bland white document file." You snorted at his comment.

"I can't even defend that."

The clock on your screen informed you of the time, almost scolding you for being awake at such an hour. It's not like you completely regretted your choice—your paper wasn't going to write itself, but damn you were sleepy. You noticed that your own boyfriend was also barely holding himself up, his eyes turning a bit unfocused at times. Clearing your throat, you decided to get his attention one more time.

"Should—should we just sleep?"

⌗ han !

"This is so stressful." you complained through gritted teeth, mentally restraining yourself from the urge to completely destroy your laptop.

Jisung hummed from somewhere in the background. "You alright?"

"No," you spat out venomously, trying to let the source of your frustrations, a document file, know that you were not happy with it at all. "I want to slam this laptop against the wall."

"Woah, that got violent real quick." he chuckled nervously, approaching you quickly in hopes of calming you down.

You took a deep breath. "I need a soothing playlist or something."

"And that's my cue!" Jisung squealed excitedly, speeding away to grab his phone and connect it to a speaker. "Got what you need, babe."

There was a short silence filled with your curiosity as you waited for Jisung to start playing a song. You found his enthusiasm contagious, getting you to smile softly. It was all nice and peaceful until a familiar tune entered your ears.

Is that twinkle, twinkle, little star?

You blanked at him, watching his eyebrows wiggle playfully; the action being so annoyingly endearing that you had no choice but to laugh, spreading the warmth you felt with Jisung's actions all throughout your system. Your boyfriend decided to make himself comfortable on the bed, spreading his arms wide open as an invitation. You rolled your eyes playfully. Now who could resist that?

"Scoot over, you menace."

⌗ felix !

"Is this a bribe?" You questioned your boyfriend, who was smiling oh-so-suspiciously in the midst of handing you a plate of freshly baked cookies. Felix shrugged, acting all nonchalant about the situation.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"Perhaps," you squint at him as you take the plate from his grasp. "But I need to finish this, Lix."

He only nodded in understanding. "You can finish the cookies at the same time too. Do you want hot chocolate or milk with it?"

Even though you were still confused and skeptical, you didn't want to disregard Felix's efforts. This was most likely his way of giving you support—that or he was just desperate to tuck you to bed already. Or maybe both. That also sounds just like something he would do.

"Coffee, please," you sighed, giving in to his advances. He visibly deflates at your choice of beverage, an action you catch on to quickly, cementing his reason for all this in your head. You took a bite of a cookie, amused at his reaction.

"How are you so obvious?"

Felix pouted at your words, feeling called out. "I am a man on a mission."

"Well, consider it mission accomplished," you said, standing up to give him a small peck on the cheek as a way of rewarding him. "Just give me a few more minutes."

Sitting back down, you left Felix frozen in place, still trying to process what you had just done. When his brain finally caught up, he almost jumped in happiness, making you smile as well.

"I knew my baking had magic!"

⌗ seungmin !

"Dude," you monotonously start, staring at Seungmin lying down all comfortably while mindlessly scrolling on his phone. "I want to be you so badly right now."

Your boyfriend freezes dramatically—his head snapping to look at you the next second. "Did you really just dude me? At two in the morning?" He gasps, his face reflecting how offended he was at the way you referred to him. You playfully scoff at his reaction.

This project proposal really had you on the verge of just quitting. The night was chilly, and you wanted nothing more than to cuddle in bed and sleep to your heart's content. Unfortunately, you were stuck at your desk trying to finish what was left of the darn thing.

"If you had to sacrifice sleep for a project you don't even like, you would too."

"But I'm babe…" Seungmin sulks, sinking deeper into the fluffy bed sheets. "Am I even still your boyfriend?"

Turning your back to him, you reached for the computer's keyboard once again. "Yes, of course. My honeybunch, sugarplum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin—"

"Okay, that's overkill," you softly laughed at Seungmin's quick retort. 

"And I'm overkilled."

Your boyfriend only hums at the statement. There was a silence that followed his simple response, making you groan at the reminder that you had something else to do other than chat with Seungmin. But just when you were about to get into work mode, you felt firm arms wrap around your waist as well as a sudden weight on your shoulder.

"Just sleep already. I'll help you with that tomorrow."

⌗ i.n !

"I seriously don't understand how you still have the brain cells to do that at this hour." Jeongin stares at you from the bed, greatly impressed by your determination to stay up for so long. 

"Thank you," was your reply, continuing to type away on the keyboard. "I try hard."

"But at what cost?"

"Why are you trying to make this conversation into a drama all of a sudden?" You asked, swiveling the chair around to face him, your face filled with questioning.

"I'm bored," Jeongin simply admits. "And sleepy."

You sigh, now feeling guilty for making him wait this long. He must be exhausted too, seeing as it was already around three in the morning. "Jeongin, you don't have to stay up, you know?"

He clicked his tongue in distaste. "Then risk you passing out alone? No way."

Your heart immediately warms at his words. So he was worried? The past week has been quite rough on you—this being about the third time you've sacrificed sleep in the last 6 days. If Jeongin was in your position, you would already be fussing for him to get to bed a few hours ago. Yet, here he was, supporting you in his own way. 

The blinking line that marked where you had stopped in the file was staring at you, pleading with you to continue and finish everything before the sun rose. But it looks like that won't be happening right now.

"Fine. I still have tomorrow anyway."

mastertag 🏷️ : @h0neydewmoon @starzzns @lhskokoro @bookishcalls — hahaha hi yall,, let me know if you want to be added or removed^^