#Gave me some practice with full melting again since I barely ever intentionally go for it xD

[paladincecil]

Dungeon Meshi Crew Perlers Finished!

I got permission to use the orignal art from gyoGUTS on Etsy

[ahkaraii]

tov postgame drabblefic (3343 words)

“Raven?! Hey, Raven!”

Raven turns to smile at the little shrimp—who’s really more a jumbo shrimp now, with all the acne that comes with puberty—and waves. “Heya, Boss-man!"

Karol’s embrace draws a startled ‘oof!’ out of him, his blastia-heart creaking against his ribs. “You’re in town!” Karol exclaims. “And you didn’t say?!”

“I just got here, kiddo,” Raven says, patting Karol’s back—it used to be a pat on his head, but his head’s just about level with Raven’s now. “Damn, you’re getting tall!”

“You should’a said you were coming,” Karol grouses into his neck. “I’ve got a client I’m already late for across town.”

“Aww, that’s awright. I’ve got some time-sensitive stuff to get ta, too. We can join up after! Brave Vesperia’s still at the same place, yeah?”

“West corner across Saggitarius, yup!” Karol beams. “See you for dinner, then?”

“I’ll whip you up a Sashimi,” Raven promises.

“That’s a promise, pops!” Karol says, and dashes off. Raven scratches his messy hair and abruptly feels very self conscious about it. It’s just a casual nickname, old man, he don't mean naught by it. Relax.

After a fast-tracked meeting with Harry results in a tussle — poking gentle fun at the boy’s attempt at a beard earns him a “Your ass is grass, old man!!” and a surprisingly competent sword duel ensues — the young Master is turning into a proper Don, now — Raven subtly lets Harry disarm him and sprawls on the floor, dramatically defeated.

“Ohhh, these old bones!” Raven mimics being out of breath. “You’ve finally bested me, Master Harry. Do with my ass what you will.”

“Ugh! You’re so disgusting!” Harry is actually out of breath, so he still needs a bit more practice, but it’s leagues better than he was just a year ago. “A duel is an honourable exchange between men! Stop desecrating it with your jokes!”

“I don’t joke with my ass,” Raven says in his Serious Voice, enjoying Harry’s startled look before he dons his jester’s grin again. “Anywho, this old man’s got places to be, so! Toodles!”

“Wait! Raven! What the hell did you come here for!” Harry’s baritone is quite impressive when he gets proper angry. “Did you just come here to waste my time!”

“Never intentionally,” Raven promises. He’d dropped Flynn’s wax-sealed letter on Harry’s desk during their fight, and points to it as he nimbly leaps up to his usual open window. “There’s your homework, Master Harry! I’ll come by to collect it tomorrow at dawn, ‘kay?”

He leapfrogs out in time to hear Harry’s yelps of protest. “When did you put that there! God damnit, Raven!”

Raven’s grinning as he parkours his way away from Altosk’s headquarters and towards Brave Vesperia’s. If he sharply detours into Saggitarius tavern to catch up with the ladies (and the latest, juiciest gossip — who knew Heliord’s newest guild ambassador was trafficking drugs and possibly underage escorts? he did, now), then that’s just Raven being Raven, right? Karol’ll understand.

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come,” Karol says faux-lightly, when Raven finally makes it back a few minutes past midnight.

Aww, shit.

“Heeey, I promised, didn’t I? Business just stretched out a little.” Raven dithers at Karol’s knowing stare. “C’mon, you still up for a good ol’ Raven’s Special Sashimi?”

“Fish isn’t really fresh by midnight anymore,” Karol says drolly. “Unless you wanna go fishing at this hour?”

They’d only get sewer trash in Dahngrest’s polluted rivers, and the next best thing’s thirty minutes out, at the very least. “Ehhh—how bout a Beef Bowl?” Raven says. “Surely you got some cured meats in your pantry. C’mon!! I’ll teach you!”

“Aw, okay. I am pretty hungry.” Karol’s so easy to please, it’s both heartwarming and kind of sad. “I’ve tried making it before but I can never get mine to taste like yours did.”

“’S all in the seasoning, kiddo. Here, watch the master and learn!”

It’s well past two when they finally call it a night, bellies full and hearts warm; it’s solely because of this that Karol succeeds in wrestling a promise out of Raven that they’d talk more in the morning. See, Raven’s got orders to pick up Harry’s response to Flynn’s letter and hussle back to the Empire ASAP, but even he doesn’t have to heart to deny Karol this simple thing.

Ever since Brave Vesperia saved the world by ruining it, everyone’s been struggling to adapt to life without blastia and Raven’s somehow found himself smack in the middle between the two remaining powers: the Empire and the Guild Union. Former member of both and trusted by all due to his role in stopping the Adephagos, Raven’s got the privilege of being messenger boy between the leaders in lieu of formal meetings, due to the fact that a lack of blastia has made travel…immensely more time consuming.

He’s worn down all the possible routes between Dahngrest and Zaphias for over a decade; the presence or absence of blastia has not really affected Raven’s efficiency and timeliness, which, naturally, has made him an attractive player for both sides. It just sucks that this means he’s always on the go, never really spending much time in one place or another. The first six months couldn’t be helped, it was imperative that everyone get their shit together and master the essentials necessary in order to provide basic living to their respective citizens: barrier blastia had to be replaced with rotating squads of knights and guildsfolk trained to fight; food previously preserved by blastia now had to be kept refrigerated with imported Zophier ice, dominated by the Empire, which had to be kept from melting with salt from Weasand mines, dominated by Guilds; everyone had to coordinate and organise to secure trade routes and avoid conflict, etc, etc.

The next six months after that were peace talks and negotiations between what was quickly becoming independent kingdoms in separate countries. Sea travel had slowed the fuck down overnight, because blastia-fueled engines had become obsolete and everyone now had to rely on wind power, so every passing day each country was slowly but surely becoming more and more isolated from each other, and therefore gradually but surely more hostile.

Emperor Ioder ruled over the continent of Ilyccia with his aristocracy of nobles and meritocracy of knights, struggling to keep the Empire’s global standing while lacking the technology to enforce it; Tolbyccia was pretty much owned by Altosk, ostensibly headed by Harry, who was presently overrun with infighting due to the fact that the Union was composed of many, many guilds all clamouring for leadership, if not democracy; East Desier was dominated by the strong-spirited Palestralle guild and its current leader, Natz, whose militant-minded navy had quickly expanded toward West Hyponia now that the Union’s presence was months away by treacherous sea; East Hyponia was an oddly peaceful blend of both Guild and Empire, unique in its joint origin and therefore vocally neutral, though that was quickly becoming contested, and, hence, required Raven-the-Pageboy’s timely arrival to avoid it becoming a full out war. Ugh.

The Schwann part of him that still lived felt heavy resignation at the inevitability of violence—the first one to fall would be Raven, he knew, as no messenger could truly remain neutral in a tug of war between such powerful masters—but the more upbeat part of him was like, stop sweating the small stuff and just go with the flow. Shit always resolves itself one way or another, right?

Right?

“You leaving already?” Karol mumbles into his pillow when Raven rises at dawn; kid’s no longer the type to sleep deeply, it seems.

“Just visiting the young Master to collect his response letter for Flynn,” Raven promises quietly. “Go back to sleep, Karol. I’ll be back to make you breakfast before I’m gone.”

Karol eyes him tiredly but he manages a wan smile. “Okay, pops. I trust you.”

Raven feels goosebumps up his arm. Stupid blastia heart runs too damn cold. He heads out at a jog to warm himself up, since Dahngrest runs both chilly and damp at this hour.

Raven no longer sneaks into Altosk’s headquarters like he did when the Don was alive and Harry was a boy; for one, Don is no longer alive to vouch for his slipperiness and for another, Raven represents the Empire here as much as he represents the Guilds in Zaphias, and no one tolerates his antics as they did before, not with the threat of conflict so close to the horizon. He walks in through the front door and waves at all the folks waiting in line—Pecan, Cactus, Lima and good ol’ Walt; all familiar faces turning sour, as usual—and knocks politely on Harry’s door.

“Master Harry,” he sing-songs. “It is I, Raven the Great, come ‘round at last!”

“It’s been barely ten fucking hours,” Harry’s pissed off voice rings loud and clear through the door.

“Shall I come back at noon, then?” Raven asks diplomatically.

An explosive sigh. “No,” Harry mutters. “Get in here. And call Cactus in, too, would you?”

“You heard the Young Master,” Raven says, nodding at the aptly-named mercenary, with his spiked up armour and sharpened teeth.

“You don’t order us around anymore, traitor,” the prickly fellow spits and shoves past him, to whom Raven mockingly bows to as he passes.

Saviour of the world or not, it's no secret now Raven was a triple agent. The official story Harry graciously gave him is that the Don always knew about Raven’s split loyalty (which is true, probably) and trusted him anyway (which is true, too), so Harry and Altosk will continue to trust him as well (which is flattering, but increasingly doubtful). Harry's a good kid shoved into a position of leadership he's not very well suited for, but even Raven can't deny he's trying and doing better every day.

“Cutlass Cactus, I want you to deliver this to Sirena of Siren’s Fang as soon as possible,” Harry says shortly, handing the man a wax-sealed letter. “Wait for a response, but I await it at most a fortnight.”

“Understood, young Master,” Cactus says, thumping his chest at the honour. He takes the letter, glares at Raven, and makes his way out.

“As for you,” Harry says, “I have a question to ask you before I hand this reply over. A serious one.”

Raven feels his age and more. “Yeah?”

“Ioder is a good man. His dog Flynn is, too. I know this personally.”

There is no question here yet, and there are a fair amount of insults between the compliments, but Raven knows the heart of Harry, and he means well.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “They are.”

“But,” Harry continues, coldly. “Two kind heads on a hydra do not make it any less a monster.”

Raven hides a grimace by scratching at his sideburns. “The same can be said of the Guilds,” he says lightly. “Or of any organization grown large enough.”

“Stop twisting my metaphors,” Harry says shortly. “The question I wanted to ask is: what do you think the Empire's end goal is?”

And what is the Guild’s end goal, Schwann wants to counter, when the Guilds’ very existence rose out of violent rejection of the Empire? Raven, for his part, takes a deep breath and exhales it out as a thoughtful hum.

“I think the Empire was built to protect and manage blastia,” Raven muses. “And I think the Guilds were built to reject the Empire’ monopoly of them. But, well, there ain’t no blastia left, so… the Empire wants to micromanage what remains. And the Guilds do, too. Yeah?”

“So there can be no peace?” Harry concludes, tiredly.

“Harry,” Raven says, firmly. “Your grandfather, the Don, united the Guilds back when they were just a bunch of rowdy, armed assholes. Y’know how he did it?”

“By fighting the Empire?” Harry says dully.

“By uniting against a common enemy,” Raven insists. “By uniting against a common threat. The Empire is no longer the enemy—hell, think of the Empire as yet another guild. It’s just a group of rowdy, armed assholes. But you and they got a common enemy now, too.”

Harry looks at him sharply. “The Adephagos is no more,” he says, carefully, “right?”

“Not the Adephagos,” Raven says. “The lack of blastia. The lack of technology. The lack of creature comforts all of us got real used to. That’s our enemy now; the thing we all gotta pitch in together to fix.” Raven bows low to Harry, as low as he would to the Don. “I beg you, young Master: do not war with the Empire. Not now. See them as a business partner, instead.”

“Business, huh,” Harry says heavily, and then flicks his sealed letter in Raven’s direction, who catches it just before it smacks him in the face. “All right. Tell your Master we can’t afford a war, anyway.”

Something uncoils in Raven's chest. “You are my only Master, Harry,” he says, cheekily. Just like Flynn is his only Commandant, now.

“Ugh, the way you say it, you make it sound so gross,” Harry complains. “Get the fuck out of my room, old man. And call in Lima!”

Raven sends him a lazy salute and hops his way out, placing the important letter in his robe’s inner breast pocket. His heart blastia emits a small barrier shield of its own, using his life-force; this letter will remain pristine come rain, sleet, or snow, as long as he still lives.

“You’re up, Lima bean,” Raven chirps.

“You call me that again and I’ll break more than just your nuts,” Lima snarls, spits in his direction, and stomps off.

“And we used to have such fun together,” Raven laments. “What happened to us, O expert in nuts, Pecan, my man?”

“Careful, Raven,” the aforementioned Pecan murmurs. “Your jests are no longer in good taste.”

“Your fruit cocktail, on the other hand,” Raven says. “Mmhmm. Top notch, as always.”

Pecan gives him a wry smile. “I saw you buttering up Madam Teal and her girls, last night. They talk about Heliord?”

“Oh, you know me: promise me a free night of drinks and I’ll spill my guts,” Raven winks suggestively.

“Hmm…your costs run too high these days,” Pecan declines politely. “You’ll drink me out of business.”

Raven feels a mild pang of loss; he and the third-waiter-from-the-right Pecan used to be pretty tight. Schwann thinks it’s just how things go. Suck it up, buttercup.

“Next time I’m in town I’ll do you one free, fer old times’ sake,” Raven compromises. “Lemme know what info you want and I’ll get it for ya fer a Mabo Curry and a Don’s Special. Within reason, ‘course.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Black Bird,” Pecan murmurs. “But I’ll be waiting for you.”

Raven walks home with a heavy heart and on lighter feet. He makes a quick detour to the fish market, already bustling with a freshly caught haul; he haggles reliable ol' Fin for a kilogram of merflesh and charms Romelle out of a bottle of soy sauce and pays full price for a sack of white rice before finally making it back to Brave Vesperia’s HQ, just in time to catch Karol in the kitchen about to make morning coffee.

“Raven!” Karol’s smile is brilliant, and very welcome. “You’re back!”

“I promised you my world famous sashimi, didn’t I?” Raven says. “Can't have you saying this old man’s a liar!"

“I’d never,” Karol says honestly, and that, more than anything, is what makes Raven want to noogie Karol and maybe cry into his hair or something likewise unmanful. He settles for making that kid the most delicious dish of fish a Weekend Chef is capable of, and if he finds himself also making Karol his special Pork Stew to eat later, he tells himself it’s ‘cause the boy’s a growing man and not because Raven’s a sap at heart.

“So where ya off to now, Raven?” Karol asks, after they’re done eating and making the kitchen less of a mess. “If, um, you can tell me, that is.”

“Atherum,” Raven says honestly. “Flynn said his girl Sodia’d be there to collect whatever response Harry might have on the new moon, so, there I'll be.”

“The new moon?” Karol stares at him. “But that’s in no time at all!”

Raven gives him a wan smile. “Don’tcha worry, kiddo. I always get ta where I need to in time.”

“We should call Ba’ul,” Karol insists. “You’ll never make it otherwise!”

Raven doesn’t have the heart to tell Karol that it probably doesn’t matter how fast or slow his response arrives; in the end, it’s Harry actions from now on that will be his real response, regardless of what his letter says.

“Judith darlin’ probably has better things to do than be an old man’s cab,” Raven says lightly. “I’ll jes' hop on a merchant ship headed toward Atherum tonight; should make it just in time, if the weather stays fair. This time o’ year, the northern wind’s in our favour.”

“But what if merfish ambush you!” Karol protests. “Or if a storm’s brewing—“

“Tempest!” Raven sing-songs, flicking his hand. “Aw, man, I miss being able ta call up storms willy-nilly. That made me feel God-like, it did.”

Karol frowns at the interruption, but then his face turns thoughtful. “Can’t you still, though? Your blastia’s powered by your life-force, right? So your arts should still be working just fine.”

“Shavin’ a year or two off my life fer a light show is a bit too vapid, even by my standards,” Raven says sardonically. “Plus, I ain’t keen on folks realising blastia’s still useable if you use a human fer a battery.”

He can very easily see it happening in the future: folks trafficking humans for energy. Or, fuck, claiming prisoners of war for it—hell of a good reason to go to war, really, if it’s to dehumanize the ingredients you need to fuel your creature comforts. You justify your atrocities by framing it as necessary or even righteous; Alexei and Schwann used to do that all the time, no brainer. Honestly, this fear is one of the many reasons he’s made Rita promise not to share that part of Hermes’ research, despite the fact that human-powered blastia could solve a lot of the world’s present problems. Schwann’s too jaded to avoid thinking of all the ways it can go terribly wrong, and Raven’s too fucking tired of the parasite that is his heart to think of its more beneficial applications.

“People’ll find out eventually,” Karol insists, at once innocent and wise beyond his years. “Desperation breeds creativity, right? You should tell people about it so they know the risks involved, before someone invents it and says it’s a cure-all or something.”

“Ehhhhh,” Raven drawls. “I’ll think about it.”

He most definitely will not.

Karol drops it, thankfully, but then picks up the old tangent of, “I still say I should call Ba’ul for you. I’ve got the whistle and I was thinking of asking Judy to fly me over to Yumanju, anyway, since my next job’s over there. We could drop you off real quick, no worries.”

“The spa?” Raven perks up. The idea of running off to relax there after all this nonstop political bullshit is extremely appealing. “Really?”

“Really really,” Karol says, smiling knowingly. “So, you wanna come with?”

“Boy, do I,” Raven says excitedly. “Okay, kiddo, you’ve convinced this old man to defect to Brave Vesperia once again.”

“You never left, pops,” Karol says without hesitation, which warms the cockles of ol' Raven's heart. “C’mon, then, let’s head to the usual clearing. Ba’ul’ll show up within fifteen minutes after I call for him.”

“Wait wait wait! We should get Judy a gift first,” Raven insists. “The lady’s coming all the way over here for our sorry hides, we gotta say thanks proper-like!”

Karol blinks. “That’s a good idea! What d’you think she’d like?”

“I know just the thing,” Raven winks. “C’mon, kiddo, we got places to be!”

[monsieur-hadrien]

The Fragile Balance Between Darkness and Light - Drarry Oneshot

1.4k words, 26 October 2020

Draco worries when Harry doesn't come back home after practice, so he goes to find him.

Crossposted on AO3, What I listened to while writing

It’s not often that Draco wakes up to an empty bed, not since the middle of 8th year. Not without prior warning, at least. Harry is usually quite good about letting him know when he won’t be coming home. Whether he’s away for a visit to Aunt Andromeda’s to visit his godson or for out-of-town quidditch matches that end a bit too late for apparition to be safe, Harry always lets Draco know when he doesn't need to wait up for him. Which is why Draco worries for his other half when he wakes in the middle of the night to Harry’s side of the bed (the left side, obviously) empty and cold.

***

It’s not often that Harry doesn’t want to fall asleep, not since the middle of 8th year. Not without reason, at least. Draco is usually quite good at calming his anxiety around sleep. Whether it be listening to him talk about his dark, locked cupboard at the Dursleys or about his death, how at first it felt like the light had been swallowed by a black hole that would take him next. Draco always knows when Harry needs to talk and when he just needs to be held as if nothing could ever hurt him again. Which is why Harry worries for his other half as he sits on the battered seat of a swing at the Little Whinging Community Park (abandoned at this time of night, obviously) alone and cold.

***

Draco doesn’t wait around for Harry to come to their room. He exits and moves to the sitting room of Grimmauld Place where he glances at the grandfather clock with the names of their jigsaw family against the wall: it was a gift from Molly and Arthur for their wedding, a gift that had Harry in tears. Thankfully, Draco sees that Harry’s name is not on “mortal peril.” Harry’s clock hand is firmly in the middle of “lost.”

That’s okay, Draco thinks to himself. I can work with that.

***

Harry hears the light pop of apparition to the side of him. Turning, he finds Draco stalking toward him, his blonde hair unmistakable even in the dim, orange light of the streetlamps. At seeing his face, Harry can see Draco let out a strained sigh of relief. His lips turn up at that; it’s nice to be cared about that much, even if he feels terrible about making Draco worry. 

The second Draco reaches his husband, Harry finds himself enveloped in a tight hug, which he wastes no time melting into.

“You gave me a bit of a heart attack, love,” Draco murmurs to Harry’s head that’s currently buried in the nape of his neck.

“‘M sorry,” Harry mumbles, nestling closer to the blonde. Why he thought he could pass up nightly cuddles, he doesn’t know. A travesty, that would have been.

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Draco sighs, not even able to feel mad at that moment. He runs his fingers through Harry’s bird's nest of hair. “We will have to talk about this when we get home, though.”

Harry tenses in Draco’s arms. “Can we talk about it in the morning?”

“Well, if you want to get specific, it’s 3 A.M. So, yeah we can talk about when we get home.”

Harry doesn’t answer, but he hopped down from the swing (his feet didn’t touch the ground while he was sitting. If he didn’t look so miserable, Draco would have told him how adorable he looked) and wraps his arms around Draco’s waist in a death grip, waiting for the unpleasant squeeze of apparition.

***

Harry’s arms are still around Draco when they apparate into the living room, eyes squeezed tight shut, forehead resting atop his husband’s chest. Draco gently quizzes back before suggesting to him, “How about I get some calming drought and I meet you in our room.”

In response, Harry constricts his arms tighter around  Draco’s waist and shakes his head vehemently. “‘M donneed that.”

“Tea then?”

Draco knows Harry never says no to tea.

A few beats pass before Harry nods his head, curls bouncing next to his ears. “Stay with you, though.”

As Draco prepares two mugs of chamomile tea, Harry stays no farther than an arm’s length away, watching his every move like a small kitten. While the tea steeps, Harry seizes the opportunity to hug Draco from the side. The other takes this in stride, wrapping one hand around his waist and the other tracing patterns on top of Harry's scarred hand.

I must not tell lies. What hippogriff shit, Draco thinks. Anybody who knows Harry at all knows that he would never lie without a reason, much less to harm someone. In his heart of hearts, Draco wholly believes that his husband doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body.

It’s because of this that Draco cannot find it within himself to be angry with Harry, even if he did manage to nearly send him into a full-blown panic. While he may be remarkably reckless, he would never intentionally worry or hurt Draco. But Harry did worry him, and by the (not completely abnormal but definitely over-the-top) clinginess he’s displaying, - not that Draco minds - Harry is feeling incredibly guilty.

Which is why the first thing Draco says after the two settle onto their bed, legs crossed, tea in hand, is, “I’m not cross with you.”

The reaction is immediate; Harry lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I’m still sorry, though. I should have told you where I was,” he murmurs softly, eyes fixed on his mug.

“I would rather you tell me why you felt the need to run all of a sudden. Have your nightmares been worse recently?” Draco hadn’t noticed anything himself, but he can’t rule out the possibility of missing something. While his walls have come down in the past few years, Harry can be quite good at hiding his emotions when he feels he needs to.

Thankfully, Harry shakes his head. “No. It was something at practice today.”

Draco doesn’t say anything. He begins tracing shapes on Harry’s thigh with his free hand, encouraging him to talk when he feels ready. Harry has a far-away look in his eyes as he states, impassive, “I went to that park a lot when I was at the Dursleys’, you know. Nobody came looking for me there.”

He pauses. Then, with white-knuckle grip, Harry brings his mug to his lips with two hands, taking a long sip before beginning, “A bludger hit me in the back of the head. It’s happened a million times before, so I'm not sure why this time it was different.” His voice cracks, barely noticeable over his whispering tone, but Draco catches it. “Then my vision went dark and I couldn't breathe. Thankfully I wasn’t too high up, ‘cause I crashed on my broom.”

Harry stutters, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, “I-I don’t know why, but it felt like I was trapped in the cupboard again. I know it wasn’t real, but I could hear Uncle Vernon calling me an unlovable freak and Dudley jumping on the stairs above me.” He lets out something between a sob and a laugh, sniffling, “Gods, I think I’m going insane.” In one large gulp, Harry finishes his tea in choked embarrassment, tears leaving stains on his dark cheeks.

Draco wastes no time removing Harry’s mug from his hands, setting both of theirs aside on the bedside table, and pulling his husband into a warm hug. He brings his lips to Harry’s temple, giving him a kiss before he whispers into his ear, “You’re not going insane, and you’re not a freak or unloveable. I love you.”

And with that, the dam breaks. Draco holds Harry like that as he cries, rubbing his back in comfort while alternating between phrases of, “It’s okay, love,” and, “I love you.”

They stay like that until Harry’s breath becomes more steady. Neither of them knows exactly what time it is, but they’re both knackered. Draco knows Harry would probably be too embarrassed to ask, so Draco queries, “Would you like a light on tonight?”

Harry, being the stubborn git he is, shakes his head fiercely while blushing. “I don’t need a nightlight, Draco.”

“I know you don’t, my love.” Draco smiles when Harry mopes. He doesn’t protest, however, when Draco summons his patronus, and the comforting hum of magic from the small, blue doe lulls them both to sleep.

[alison-anonymous]

flawsome bandits pt. 9 ♡ sonic

Flawsome Security

I AM BACK!!! This chapter may be a bit short, but it’s just because this is the second half of the story and I needed to introduce some new concepts! 

I have brought you all some more Flawsome Bandits for you special little darlings <3 I got a little excited and wrote an entire plot line for the rest of this story in a day, and I just finished writing this part tonight! So the next update might come soon, the next chapter is a bit more complicated so I still have to figure out how to write it. I hope you all enjoy this new chapter, and please let me know if there is anything or anyone you would like to see in the chapters to come! I love you all and please let me know what you think! 

Warnings - some hEaRtWrEnChInG fluff 

♡♡♡

Five months later…

If Y/n had to pick one period of her life where everything was perfect, it would be this one.

It had been five months since the great attack between Y/n, Sonic, and Dr. Robotnik had occurred and no one had seen or heard a thing about the crazy man in ages. While Y/n and Sonic had been staying in isolation inside the Wachowski residence, the government was sweeping the streets and subtly interrogating citizens in order to see if they had any knowledge of their whereabouts. After a couple of months, they eventually gave up and plopped the case into the cold. Once things were finally deemed safe, and after a thorough inspection by Tom, Y/n and Sonic were able to roam about Green Hills freely again. 

You would think that the people would freak out a little bit whenever they saw two alien hedgehogs walking down the streets, cracking weird jokes and singing or zipping around the place. But they actually saw the two as their own special town heroes; like they had their own unique Superman and Superwoman. Y/n was even asked to start helping Crazy Carl again in his notorious escapades of eliminating all the racoons, who he claimed were secretly geniuses and were rummaging through our trash to find anything valuable to power their supercomputers. 

I mean… he was right about Sonic, so why not give him a chance?

Sonic was even asked to help around the bakeries and grocers with some doordash delivery services, making some extra cash for his Less Than 3 Seconds delivery service. He liked to brag about the fact that he could take literally anything from the store and hardly anyone would bat an eye. This also meant that anytime Y/n even mentioned that she needed something, he would disappear and then be back in a blink holding that exact thing. With Sonic and Y/n being able to make some extra cash helping around, it encouraged Tom and Maddie to work even harder at their jobs as well. Tom reclaimed his throne as Green Hills’ favorite cop, and Maddie went back to the pet hospital. The shared strange experiences that the four had encountered only proceeded to bond them together to form an even tighter family than they ever were before. Tom and Maddie had to admit that it did take them a while to get used to Y/n’s true form, but they loved every inch of her and were simply happy that she was happy. 

Of course, enrolling them into public school was still a huge no, so they kept up the homeschooling as well. Knowing Sonic, he caught up to Y/n super fast, and it wasn’t too long before the two were helping each other Quick Study using flash cards and exercising at the same time. Speaking of their relationship, Tom had finally listened to Maddie and backed off a little bit to give room for their relationship to flourish. Because hey, if Y/n’s boyfriend was living under his roof, then he could control him like a puppet if he ever did anything to hurt her, right? 

But… there was one teeny tiny, itsy bitsy little problem. 

Y/n and Sonic never talked about… that night. You know. When they said “I love you.” Of course, they had always planned on it. But they were never quite able to find the right time. Just as they were about to get ready for the talk, Tom or Maddie would walk in or they would suddenly remember needing to do something and race off without even thinking. Maybe they were subconsciously intentionally avoiding the subject. It was a pretty intense conversation after all, and the damper as to whether or not the other had changed their mind always remained a prominent issue. 

Fear is very debilitating, you know.

But their feelings were growing stronger by the day. Every second that they spent with one another was a moment that they never wanted to end. This evening was one of those moments.

Tom and Maddie had been invited out to dinner with some of Tom’s work buddies and their wives, so while they were out drinking finely aged wine and trying to figure out what the best angle was to bite on some cheese bread, Y/n and Sonic had the house to themselves. 

Of course, Ozzy was their chaperone.

The two had planned an amazing afternoon of relaxation by plucking out a huge pile of movies to watch until they passed out from exhaustion. Most of them consisted of horribly rated horror movies so that they could make fun of them, while others consisted of action and romcoms that you just had to watch one more time. They had decided to take a break to make themselves a nice and healthy dinner, just like Tom and Maddie had wanted them to. It ended up looking more like an ice cream sundae, filled with (favorite ice cream), banana slices, sprinkles, chocolate syrup, waffle cookies, and a bunch of other stuff that Sonic had thrown in there. 

“Oh, damnit,” Y/n sighed as she stood on the kitchen counter, arms holding the cabinet doors open. “We don’t have any Eggos.”

“Fret not, M’Lady,” Sonic cried dramatically from his spot on the kitchen island. His green eyes sparkled with excitement as Y/n chuckled, her cheeks turning red at the nickname. He had gotten a bit too into the fantasy movie they had just finished watching. “Your hero is here!”

And in a blue flash, he was gone. In the time that it took Y/n to blink, he was already back, holding three packs of her favorite kind of Eggos in his arms. He tossed two of them in the fridge and held one package out to her proudly. 

“Why, thank you, Sonic,” she giggled, deciding to keep her mythical accent in order to please him. Her gloved hand brushed against his as she took the pack out of his hands, a little flicker of electricity excitedly floating across their skin at the contact. She quickly ripped it open and plopped two of the waffles onto the sundae, smiling proudly. 

“Dinner!” 

Another dozen switched positions on the couch and two more movies in, Y/n and Sonic finally ended up settling on The Conjuring. Their bellies were full of junk food and were covered up with soft blankets as they huddled together. There were a few jumpscared that actually got Y/n, but for the most part the only tension came from the decreasing distance between the two hedgehogs. Just as the credits were rolling across the screen, Sonic had wrapped his arm around Y/n’s shoulders in a totally casual manner. They listened silently to the eerie music as the actors went floating up the darkened screen. Ozzy lay passed out on the floor in front of them, next to the coffee table that held all of their dirty dishes. Y/n’s heart began to pound and her stomach felt like it was going to crawl up and spew out of her mouth as she finally turned her head to face Sonic. 

“Hey, Son…?” 

“Yeah?” He turned to her, the darkened screen making his emerald eyes grow paranormally in the dark. Hers were doing the same. They scooted away just an inch or two so that they were facing one another, Sonic’s arm still splayed across the back of the couch as he looked at her with curious, yet affectionate eyes. Y/n cleared her throat, trying to figure out how she wanted to begin this. It was now or never, right? And they had already waited for quite some time.

“I… I know that we never really talked about… um… you know,” she silently kicked herself for making things so awkward, but her nerves were getting the better of her. She could practically feel her tail shaking behind her. “I meant what I said. And I need to know if you did too…” Her heart was pounding so rapidly she could barely think over the sound, nerves skyrocketing through the roof. E/c eyes began to fill with a mixture of hope and fear as she looked up into Sonic’s emerald ones. His mouth opened and shut like a fish, void of any sound. She could only fear the worst… he didn’t mean it. He didn’t care about her the way that she did about him, did he? He secretly hated h-

“Of course I meant it! Y/n, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I guess I just never really realized it until now,” He gave her a sheepish smile, his seriousness being a completely new side of him that only ever came out when he was sincere about something. Y/n felt the butterflies go nuts in her stomach, a blush rising across her cheeks. “I think we both know that we’re kind of entirely new to this, but I was just afraid to ruin things between us. We’ve been running for most of our lives, never really having a place to call our home. But throughout all of the hard times and adventures we’ve been through, you were the one constant. Whenever I look at you…” Sonic’s emerald gaze softened as a loving smile game across his lips. “I’m home.”

A huge grin took over Y/n’s face, her eyes beginning to fill with tears of happiness. “Sonic… you’re my home, too.” Before he had a chance to say more beautiful things to make her heart melt, she threw her arms around his furry neck and buried her head in his neck. Sonic was quick to return the gesture, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tightly. It felt like cloud nine being there with one another, knowing that they felt the same. That they would make things work just like they always did. They fat together like two pieces of a puzzle; the one person that they could never get tired of. The one person that they loved everything about. The one person who was their home. Home never truly was just one place, was it? 

It was them. 

“Okay, okay,” Y/n slowly breathed as they finally pulled apart. She ran a nervous gloved hand through her quills and gave him a bashful smile. “We’ll take things slow? Since we’re so new to this and everything.” Sonic eagerly nodded.

“Yes! I mean, yeah sure,” he attempted to play it cool by leaning back against the couch, but his excitement remained ever present in his eyes every time he looked at her. “Slow. Oh, and um, how are we going to make sure Donut Lord doesn’t kill me?” 

Y/n giggled, moving closer to her partner and snuggling up into his side. Sonic happily obliged by wrapping his one arm around her and pulling her closer into him. The warmth of his body heat made her never want to leave as she hummed softly to lift the TV remote over to hand. 

“You let me take care of that. By the way, Conjuring? Yay or nay?” 

“Oh my god, don’t even get me started! First of all, every single person in here is suffering from an extreme lack of Snickers. Like seriously. They just ain’t themselves when they’re hungry.” 

♡♡♡

At around eleven o’clock, Maddie and Tom Wachowski quietly slipped through their front door. After the very interesting dinner with their friends, the gang had wanted to go out and get some drinks. Seeing no way out of it, they decided to tag along. It was only when Wade tried to strip and ride a mechanical bull at the same time that they called it a night. They knew Y/n and Sonic well enough to figure that they would have passed out on the couch watching movies, and their suspicions were confirmed when they saw the TV still flashing scenes from Dead Silence across the quiet living room. 

The couple quietly made their way into the hall and peered into the room to see the two hedgehogs passed out on the couch. Sonic lay on his back with his arms wrapped around Y/n, whose head rested on his chest and her legs were splayed across the other half of the couch. The sight was so adorable that it brought Maddie back to her young love days as she pressed a hand against her chest. A smile formed across her face as she watched the steady rise and fall of their breathing. Unfortunately, Tom was not quite as happy.

“W-what the hell?” His grip on their leftovers tightened as he stared daggers at Sonic’s arm wrapped tightly around his daughter’s waist. “Please tell me I’m dreaming.”

“Oh, come on, Tom,” Maddie playfully smacked him in the chest. “They’re just kids. They’ve known each other their whole life, remember?” Tom let out a defeated huff, but his lips were still edged in a frown.

“But… that’s my daughter right there. And that’s a boy. With his arm. Doing things.” He turned to stare intensely at his wife. “Things I don’t like.”

Maddie laughed quietly at his expression, and grabbed his arm to tug him with her into the kitchen. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to take off these high heels that feel like nails and take a nice long bath while you put the leftovers away and raid the icebox to see if we still have those macaroons the kids got us for Valentine’s day.” She pecked him on the cheek, a warm smile floating across her lips as she looked him in the eyes. “Okay?”

“Y-yes ma’am.” Years of being married, and Maddie was still able to catch him off guard.

♡♡♡

A couple hours later, the house had fallen completely silent. Even Ozzy’s snoring had ceased to an open mouthed whistle as he lay on his stomach, belly exposed to the air of the living room. Maddie and Tom lay fast asleep under the covers of their bed, and Y/n and Sonic remained asleep on the couch. Everything was silent until a slow, melodic tune floated through the air. 

Y/n stirred on Sonic’s chest. She unconsciously buried her head deeper into his fur in an attempt to float back into the REM cycle. But the tune came once again, this time more forcefully. Demanding attention. When it realized Y/n was still asleep, it wafted through the air, this time louder.

Y/n’s e/c eyes popped open. She gulped, recognizing the sound instantly. Nope. Nope, nope, nope. Last time she acknowledged the sound, it shot her on a brand new adventure in which she almost lost the love of her life. She turned her head back to Sonic’s chest, pointedly glaring at the air around her in hopes that whatever it was would get the hint. A couple of moments passed in silence, and her heartbeat finally slowed. Her eyelids gradually fluttered closed. 

Ah~, ah~...

♡ a.a.

[anonymous-cy-666]

Virgil’s future

Virgil had a splitting headache that made him want to rip his own skull wide open. For a small second, he opened his eyes, but the lights in the room were so bright right now that he couldn’t stop himself from groaning in pain. He curled up upon himself on the floor, his hands going up to hold his head tightly.

Behind his closed eyelids, he could see brief flashes. Roman’s hand raised as if he was trying to grab his own. Patton’s face deformed in a scream. Logan’s unconscious body. But in less than a second, they were already gone, leaving him alone on the ground.

He had barely started to register that he was on a wooden floor that a surprised noise came from over him. This noise was so familiar, but it was impossible for it to be him. They hadn’t seen each other in years and yet, a familiar cold soft hand touched Virgil’s cheek, making him open his eyes. And in the blinding light, he could see Dee, who was already looking at him with sincere worry painted on his face. ‘’My dearest, are you alright ? You definitely do not look distressed at the moment. Did you fall and hurt your head ?’’

Dee passed his hand on his head, softly stroking his hair in a gesture that would have normally been quite soothing, but Virgil just kept staring at the man in front of him. His friend. Who betrayed him. Who hurt him ! And now, he was just there, acting as if everything was normal ? Was… Was this normal ?

Virgil got back onto his feet fast enough for his head to turn and he almost fell right back on the ground. His head was spinning as he was trying to understand why Deceit, of all people was here, looking at him as if he was the one who was acting crazy here ? Was he acting crazy ? He didn’t really know.. His thoughts were all jumbled and his mind foggy.

‘’Why do you care if I’m doing alright ? It was pretty clear for all of us that you chose your side and it wasn’t mine !’’

Dee pulled back his hand, holding it against himself as if Virgil had just burned him. For a second, a hurt look flashed in his eyes and he just looked so confused. 

‘’What are you talking about, Virgil ? You know that I would never hurt you intentionally.’’

He… He wouldn’t hurt him. He was right. So why did he feel that way ? Why was everything so weird in his head right now. It just hurt so much and he couldn’t stop and think about what was happening. He bit his lips and raised his head to look at Dee in the eyes. He still looked wounded by Virgil’s comment that was, now that he thought about it, totally uncalled for. Why would he say something to hurt his dearest friend ?

He opened his mouth to try to explain himself, but the hurt look disappeared as soon as he looked over the Drow’s shoulder. Before Virgil could even turn around, Remus’ voice resonated within the… cabin ? The house ? The cottage. His cottage. ‘’ Sweetie~! You can’t possibly still be mad ! I already told you that we didn’t know you were keeping that cake for Patton !’’

A cake ? He hadn’t been mad just because of a cake ? ...was he ? It’s true that Remus always ate what wasn’t his ! It just was so annoying and it kept happening. He had said to him almost a thousand times that he had bought this cake for Patton and yet here they were ! Still, he shouldn’t have been mad at Deceit for Remus’ bullshit.

Before Virgil could even process an appropriate response, Logan came out of another room. His hairs were tied up into a messy bun and some traces of flour on his cheek. Virgil… Virgil had never seen the Half-Elf like this… had he ? His shirt was loose enough that his collarbone was visible and some lock of the half-elf’s hair had escaped his hair-tie, falling on the back of his neck. 

The Drow knew that his face was probably slowly turning fuchsia as Logan smiled at him with the softest look that Logan ever to give him in his life. Slowly, but surely, he went over to Virgil and, as he stroked his cheek, he leaned down to gave him a feather light kiss. It wasn’t anything big, really, but, more than the act itself, the tender look in Logan’s eyes was what got him. He looked at him as if he was the most precious treasure in the world and even if Virgil couldn’t understand what warranted him such a look, he felt as if he was melting in place. Logan continued his delicate touch for a second that was so short, but at the same time, felt like an eternity. Virgil stayed frozen in place, face burning fuschia, as the Half-Elf sighed a bit, looking at the two other men in the room.

‘’Patton finally finished making his pancakes, we should all move to the dining room. I sure hope you three aren’t scheming again, I still have in my possession the contract that you signed as a peace treaty in your prank war.‘’

Remus rolled his eyes as he dragged both Virgil and Deceit by the arm into an another room. Virgil, still shocked by the kiss, followed the angel without any protests. 

He used this short time to look around. They were in what appeared to be a cottage of some sort. No, it was his cottage. Despite him thinking that the lights were blinding at first, it was actually… quite cozy ? Flowery curtains on the window, the soft sunlight being the only source of light in the room, birds singing outside the windows, bright colours at some places and more muted at another spots. He could smell a sweet smell in the air that made him want to smile. 

As they arrived in the dining room, there was a table with six chairs. Plates were placed in front of each and every place and Patton was placing pancakes in every one of them. Roman was behind him, seemingly trying to help, but he just looked ridiculous with his hair all covered in flour. Both of them were dressed pretty casually and Patton’s glasses were a little askew. There was a flower vase in the middle of the table that was filled with sunflower. Patton, must have put them there as he always did on the weekends. 

Logan went up to Patton, pressing his lips on his temple as he fixed his glasses for him, a familiar and practiced gesture that Virgil had seen thousands of times before, he knew that, but for some reason, that felt so wrong today. 

‘’Thank you, Lo !’’ ‘’It is quite alright, Patton, don’t worry about it…’’

Remus cackled a bit as soon as he saw what his brother looked like. Roman stuck out his tongue at him, making him laugh even more, but didn’t pick up on the provocation which was… New ? Every time that he saw the brothers together, they seemed to be at each others throat, but now except the fact that Remus was clearly mocking his brother and that Roman was flipping him off, everything was quite calming. 

Virgil sat down at the table looking at the scene in front of him. The fighting was only play-fighting. They were all sitting down at the table, ready to eat some pancakes. Remus was kissing Dee’s cheek and neck, making him laugh a bit and stop pouting. He was happy to see his friends smiling. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen them laugh and smile like this in a while, so he didn’t really know why his heart suddenly felt this hot and whole, but he wasn’t going to complain about this sudden burst of happiness. 

Everything was just so perfect. A room full of smiles. Some giggles through the air. Roman and Logan seemed to be arguing about what was the best type of pancake toppings, but they ended up agreeing to a draw. For a split second, Virgil closed his eyes, only to open them immediately to the sound of a panicked voice faintly calling his name.

He looked around, quickly, but no one seemed to be looking at him. He shook his head, finishing up to eat as everyone got up, putting their dishes in the kitchen which could be seen from the place where he was sitting. 

Virgil slowly got up, going to the kitchen to put his plate in the sink and almost dropped it on the ground when two arms wrapped around his torso. The person puts his head on his, holding his oh so softly before whispering into his ear.

‘’Dewdrop, you don’t look so good. I know it’s your turn to do the dishes, but I can help you if you want.’’

‘’Roman, your kind of help is more detrimental than really helpful for Virge, we lost countless glasses with your help.‘’

‘’Oh come on Specks, look at his face and tell me that you don’t want to kiss that little pout away !’’ Logan sighed and went away, while shaking his head. Virgil couldn’t help the blush that crept up his face. A pout ? He didn’t pout ! It wasn’t his fault that he got into a little kiddy fight with Dee… 

For a second, he stopped to try and understand what had, for a second, sounded so wrong coming out of his mouth. He couldn’t find it so he simply said, quietly, almost unsure of himself :

‘’Kiss me ?’’ ‘’Well, emo, since you asked so nicely…’’ Roman grabbed his chin, softly, turning his around and pressed his lips against his. It wasn’t as soft as Logan’s kiss, but it was still this tender and slow thing. He felt a hand stroke his hair and any hesitance that he felt toward this kiss was immediately thrown out the window. His heartbeat was growing faster and louder, and a sound got caught at the back of his throat just as Roman pulled away. 

Virgil swore that he heard someone or something calling his name, but that soft smile of his didn’t move as he gave him a quick and almost feather light peck on the corner of his lips, before letting him go.

‘’Don’t worry, my dark and stormy night, I’ll do the dishes for you. You can just repay me back later~!’’

Roman pushed Virgil softly out of the kitchen, leaving him alone and kind of confused. He started walking back to where he woke up before Patton stopped him, hands on his hips.

‘’You should go back to sleep, Mister Cutie ! You can tell the others that you feel fine, but you can’t fool me !’’ Before Virgil could even blink, Patton was dragging him up the stairs into a bedroom. He knew that it was his bedroom, but for some reason, he felt that the bed was definitely too big for him alone and there were way too many pillows, but honestly, he was way too confused to protest. He went under the cover after taking off his hair tie, feeling as if he was laying on a cloud. 

The last thing he felt as he closed his eyes and fell into a deep dreamless sleep was Patton’s mouth on his forehead.

Someone…

Someone was calling his name but… He didn’t want to open his eyes. 

Why should he even open his eyes ?

Everything was so warm and cozy right now.

And his eyelids were so heavy.

But…

The voices sounded so worried.

And so familiar.

He should open his eyes, shouldn’t he ?

Just for a single second.

Just to be sure that everything was fine before going back to sleep.

Virgil woke up, his heart beating loud and clear in his ears. His splitting headache was even worse than before . The worst thing was how everyone around him was yelling. He groaned a bit, tried to get up, but one of the dark figures turned around and stopped him from getting up.

‘’ You shouldn’t get up, you lost a lot of blood.’’ ‘’ Lo… Logan ? What happened ? ‘’

‘’ A Djinn caught you, emo ! Trapped you in a fantasy world so that they could kill you ! I’m so glad that we found you before they could do a lot of damage but, we had to use the help of some, eh... unsavory guest. ‘’ ‘’Oh, but of course, Roman ! You definitely aren’t welcome for our help, you totally would have found Virgil without our help !’’

Roman rolled his eyes, crossing his arms on his chest.

‘’Oh really ?!’’

The Drow couldn’t help but groan at the sound of everyone starting to argue around him again and thought about the cottage. A place where everyone smiled and was nice. Maybe, this wasn’t his reality. But, if one thing was sure, it was that he would do anything in the world to make it his future. ------------------------ Guess who’s back with even more fluff ? Honestly, I just wanted to have and excuse to write some smooches. I hope you all like it ! Again, this is happening Overlord MAngO’s AU ( @ask-fantasy-sanders-sides ) I would also love to give big thanks and love to Bee in the discord server for helping me correct this mess of a story !

[mskathywriteswords]

Cupcakes at Midnight - Chapter 2

No warnings this chapter.

I look at myself in the mirror, wondering where all the years have gone. It feels like last week I was a blushing bride, and yesterday I was picking up the pieces from a failed marriage. But it's been over a decade.

My phone is in the kitchen, I left it there purposely so that I wouldn't obsess over looking at it every five seconds.

Instead, I go through my regular nighttime routine, taking my time with each step. The normalcy of it comforts me. I can pretend that I'm not freaking out on the inside. I scoop the cat litter and refill his water as he meows, begging like he's never been fed before.

I walk back and look at the cupcakes. The cinnamon crunch is gone, of course, but the other three still intrigue me. I've never even heard of some of the flavor combinations Ava's made for me. But I want to try them.

The thought of putting them in my mouth makes me blush, which is ridiculous because surely I'm a grownup who can think dirty things without a childish reaction. I close my eyes and slide my tongue across the silky frosting. The tang of raspberry rises up and makes my mouth water even more. I'm about to dive in to the cake part of the cupcake when I notice my phone lighting up and buzzing.

Ivy must be late night texting me, maybe she's fighting with Matt again. I swear, I don't know if those two will make it to their actual wedding.

But there is a tinge of hope that it's not Ivy.

After debating forcing myself to wait longer to check, I pick the phone up and click the button on the side so I can preview the message.

It's from her.

What if she texted back to ask me to stop texting?

That would be dumb, since she's the one that gave me her number, right?

What if she says it was all a mistake and that note was meant for Ivy? That would make sense; Ivy is gorgeous and statuesque, and ... not me.

But she didn't give Ivy the box of cupcakes, did she?

I drive myself crazy with what-ifs, so I just open the text.

I'm so happy to hear from you. What are you up to tonight? Hope it's not too late to text

I start to tap out a reply, then delete it. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow to reply? Then I realize her message was blue, meaning she'd see the three dots if she happened to be looking at her phone.

And either way, even if it was only going to be a friendship, did I really want to wait and play games? Wasn't I done with all of that?

Another exciting Friday night, wrapped up in a blanket on the couch watching Netflix, very much enjoying these cupcakes. Thank you again. And no, not too late to text - I use the quiet functions once I go to sleep, so you're good to text me anytime

I smile, hoping I'm coming across as genuinely as I feel. When I see the three dots pop up on her side of the screen, my smile grows.

What's on your current to-binge list? Glad you're enjoying the cupcakes. Thank you for inspiring them

Thank god she's a text-in-complete-words person.

Before I walk back to the couch, I pour myself another cup of tea and eye the last two cupcakes. How many cupcakes was too many in one night? I shrug and grab the orange-swirled one.

Well, right now I'm in the middle of Derry Girls. Still have to catch up on Handmaid's on Hulu, but that won't be until after I get through a few (probably boring) documentaries.

Instead of clicking the phone off, I set it on the arm of the couch, face up, so I can see if she replies again. Maybe my TV choices would make her realize how utterly snooze-y my life is.

OMG, which epi of HT are you on? Haven't seen DG, good?

We exchange texts for a few hours, discussing different movies and tv series, finding common likes and dislikes. By the time I yawn for the first time, finally acknowledging how tired I am, I realize it's past 3 am.

Holy shit, I have to get to bed soon. Will you be around tomorrow?

Jane from five years ago would have thought it was being very forward of me to ask, but right-now Jane is enjoying the conversation and ready for more from life.

I will. Any chance we could continue this conversation in person?

I tap out my reply before I even have time to think it through or be too self-conscious.

Absolutely

Awesome. Let's play it by ear, but I'll see you tomorrow, J

The temptation to leave it there gets over-ruled by my giddy, smooshy feelings.

Goodnight. Sweet dreams

That's the last reply in the series, and I set my phone on the nightstand, long ago having moved to bed to charge my phone. I roll to my side and think about what tomorrow will bring. Cat curls up at my feet and makes his displeasure that we're all still awake very well known. My eyes can barely stay open, but my brain is a freight train of excitement.

The next morning, I debate what "too early" to text would be. I don't want to seem overly eager, but I don't want to intentionally withhold a message just to play some weird unwritten rule game.

I get my laundry done, sweep the kitchen, and putter as much as I can, until finally around mid-day, my phone chirps. Cat looks up at me, ever-annoyed that his nap has been interrupted.

Beer, pizza, and extraordinarily dark dystopian future tv watching?

I shake my head and laugh.

What could make for a better Saturday night?

I can think of a few things. For now, it sounds pretty good, right? Wanna meet at your place? Is that too weird / too soon?

Was that a date? Meeting at my place to watch tv?

Sure, not too soon at all. What time?

We make plans for a few hours later, and I'm still unsure if it's a date, but I decide it doesn't matter. I want more fun in my life, so even if we just hang out and get to know each other better, wasn't that the point?

When the doorbell rings, I practically jump out of the chair. I open the door, and Ava looks like she's just come from some punk band concert that would be way too cool for me to even consider. I laugh to myself.

"Hey, come in."

Her hands are full, but she makes her way past me, finding the kitchen immediately.

"I wasn't sure what pizza toppings you like? I don't know how we didn't discuss that. But I went with half cheese, half pepperoni, just to be safe. Sound okay?"

She smiles and a part of me wants to melt at how genuine it is.

"Yeah, sounds great. I'll just grab plates. Do you need a fork and knife?"

The look on her face is absolutely fucking priceless.

"A fork and knife? For what?"

"Oh man, Ivy is so funny, she had me convinced for a while that everyone eats pizza with a fork and knife. Thank god it's just her. I was starting to question everything about my twenties."

"No way. Pizza is a single hand, no utensil kind of food. That's part of what makes it so perfect. I wasn't sure what kind of beer you drink, so I just got something generic."

We open our cans and take them, the pizza, and a roll of paper towels to the coffee table. Between bites, we talk about the season of the show and how we each think it's going; we make predictions on where it might end up. Then finally, when the pizza is gone and we're left with just awkward silence, we put the show on.

I can see Ava looking around my apartment as we watch, maybe trying to learn things about my life? Her eyes are on a particular frame over my fireplace.

"That's my niece, Hailey," I say, smiling.

We're sitting across the couch from each other; not too far, but not too close. Cat was always between us, annoyingly adorable as ever.

"Do you have any siblings?"

She smiles. "Nope. Only child."

"Does that get lonely? I bet it was glorious growing up. No one to fight with for the TV remote, or what kind of pizza to have."

Ava shrugs and smiles, then turns her attention back to the TV. Her body had been angled toward mine, but she shifts, and then scoots closer. Horrible things happen on the show in front of us, but right in the room? She laces her fingers through mine and my whole body warms.

Is this what it's supposed to feel like?

A few hours, laughs, and cupcakes later, the sun has set and we're several episodes into another series. I'm surprised when Ava gets up, yawning. Her arms go over her head as she stretches, and I swear I almost die when I see a sliver of her skin between her shirt and pants.

"I open the bakery in a few hours. I'm sorry, I'm terrible company right now. I probably haven't said ten words in the last hour."

"No need to apologize," I say, standing and touching her arm. "You've been great company. I feel bad I've been keeping you. You were up so late last night, too. All my fault." I laugh, trying to downplay my disappointment that the night is ending.

"Mutual blame," she says, smiling and tugging my arm. It could be a friendly gesture, the hug, but I can't help but hope it's the beginning of something more than a friendship.

[wordsandshawn]

Before Now - chapter 1

Read the Prologue here

1.

December 2016

It’s my first time back home after my first semester at Uni. After seeing and spending some time with my family, I drive straight over to the Mendes house. I missed Karen and Manny, and last week, I promised Aaliyah I’d pick her up and take her Christmas shopping as soon as I got home. She missed me as much as my own siblings did. In fact, arguably, she missed me more than my own brothers did. I knock once, then I enter the house without waiting for someone to let me in, just like I have always done ever since I was little. What I don’t expect at 4:30 in the afternoon is to find Shawn standing at the stove, his back toward me, only wearing basketball shorts. I didn’t expect him to be at home at all, much less shirtless in his kitchen.

Thankfully he hadn’t heard me come in, which gives me just enough time to recover from my shocked expression. “Hey,” I say to announce my presence, probably a little awkwardly, and mostly embarrassed that I just barged into his kitchen without waiting for someone to answer the door. And even though I’ve always done this and never felt uncomfortable before, this time seems different. I caught him off guard as much as he caught me off guard. He spins around, the wooden spoon still in his hand, “I knocked, but—“ I trail off, not really knowing what to say next since I don’t have any explanation.

His surprised expression is replaced by a smile. “Oh hey, Ky, don’t worry about it. You know you’re always welcome.” I freeze momentarily, hearing Shawn use his nickname for me catches me off-guard since it’s been so long since I’ve heard it. He is the only person to ever call me that. Its not exactly the most obvious nickname to come from the name Skylar. I was too young to remember, but our parents told us that when we were just learning to talk, the sharp “S” sound in my name was hard for him, so he dropped it entirely. Apparently, he called me Kyla for a while, disregarding my last “R” too, before finally settling on Ky a little while later. Our parents thought it was cute, probably thought he’d grow out of it one day, but apparently, he never has.

I try not to let my eyes travel any lower than his face, but his muscular chest and his well-defined abs are hard to miss when they’re right in front of me, practically daring me to stare. My still teenaged mind can’t help but wonder, when did he get abs, did he really bulk up this much since I last saw him? It has been a while, now that I really think about it.

He leaves his pot on the stove, coming around the counter to give me a hug, something that should have been totally normal, but yet felt different somehow. “Did you just get back home?” He questions, obviously being the one to carry the conversation this time. As far as I can remember, I had always been the one to do most of the talking between the two of us. He was more of the thinker, but a lot has changed, I have to keep reminding myself.

“Yeah, I did.” I say, stepping back from him a bit, intentionally creating space between us, “How long have you been home?”

“Just a couple of days, but I leave again on Saturday.” He says, sounding a little disappointed and I don’t blame him.

“Oh, but you’ll be back home for Christmas, though right?” I ask.

He nods, “Yeah, I’ll be back on the twenty-third, just in time for Christmas.” He forces a smile past the hint of sadness.

I smile too, nodding. A short silence elapses, where we both take each other in. He’s probably realizing how much I changed just like I’m realizing how much he’s changed. Luckily, Karen walks in saving us both from whatever awkwardness would have otherwise ensued after the moment passed. “Skylar!” She says, rushing over as soon as she notices me.

I smile and wrap my arms around her, “Hi Karen,” I say as I melt into her motherly embrace.

When she finally releases me from the hug, she asks, “How’s Uni?” but she gets too excited and before I can even begin to answer, she speaks again, “We’ve missed you so much around here, you can’t leave again, we miss you too much when you’re gone.”

I can’t help but pull her in for another hug. “I’ve missed you too.”

“No more leaving,” She basically commands, and I just smile.

“I’ll be home for a month,” I tell her, trying to make the fact that I fully intend to leave after a month seem a little less bad.

“Alright,” She says, “I guess that’ll have to do. Are you hungry? I don’t know what Shawn is making. It’s probably not safe to eat, but I think I have some leftovers in the fridge.”

At this, Shawn makes a bit of an offended sound. “I’m making rice, and chicken. And it’s definitely, probably going to be edible, if you want some, Ky.” Shawn offers, and I just smile.

“I’m not hungry, actually, but thank you. I just came to pick up Aaliyah, and say hi, of course.” I say, making sure they know that I’m there for them too, even though the main reason really was that I had promised to take Aaliyah Christmas shopping.

Aaliyah comes bounding down the stairs now. She probably heard us all talking downstairs, and she rushes straight into my arms. “I missed you,” She practically screams in my ear, but I missed her too, so I’m not even worried that I might be deaf from her scream. I say goodbye to Karen and Shawn and try to forget the way that he actually seemed happy to see me and interested in what I had to say. I try to forget about how I actually felt sad that I didn’t have more time to talk to him.

~

After a few hours of shopping, Aaliyah and I get smoothies and sit down in the middle of the mall because we’re tired from all the walking. We had talked nonstop, quickly catching each other up on the last few months of our lives. Although we talked on the phone frequently while I was gone, catching up in person is different. She told me everything that had been going on with her at school, and I filled her in on my first semester of University.

“So, are there any cute boys? College boys?” She questions with a raised eyebrow and a mischievous grin.

I laugh at this innocent question coming from her, and I tell her about one boy who’s caught my eye, just to appease her, even though absolutely nothing was going on between the two of us. Suddenly, she’s asking if I’m going to get a boyfriend. She’s asking all kinds of questions about him and boyfriends and boys in general, but I can’t help how my mind keeps wandering back to her brother at all of her inquiries. Even just the thought of it makes my stomach twist into knots in a way it never has before.

~

Shawn isn’t home when I drop Aaliyah back at their house after shopping. I decide it is probably a good thing that I don’t see him again, despite the unfamiliar and seemingly inappropriate feeling of slight disappointment. I don’t think I can handle another encounter like that one. It was so strange, too strange.

But what is even more strange is a text that I receive from Shawn the next day. I didn’t even realize that he still has my number. I definitely don’t have his saved in my phone. Well, I had a number of his saved in my phone, but probably an old number.

Hey Skylar, this is Shawn, I was wondering if you wanted to catch up and hang out before I leave on Saturday?

Everything in my gut is telling me to say no, to stay away from this boy who knew my heart before it was full of anything but lofty dreams and love. He knew me then, but that doesn’t mean he knows me now. And I don’t know him, not anymore. Sure, my encounter with him in his kitchen gave me no reason to stay away from him or avoid getting to know him, but I’m still not sure if I want to. I’m not ready to let anyone in, and certainly not someone world famous.

My internal battle prevents me from answering for a day. In the end, my curiosity over Shawn’s sudden interest in catching up gets the best of me. I can’t help but say yes. He wants to pick me up, always the gentleman, but instead I suggest we grab coffee, meeting at a coffee shop between his house and mine. It seemed safer to me, less pressure. Old friends always meet for coffee and it doesn’t have to mean anything.

Maybe I’m being hyper aware, or maybe it’s just that obvious how everyone in the tiny, relatively empty coffee shop seems to look twice at Shawn, and then they look at me, and I pretend not to notice. Shawn insists on buying the coffee, the first major hint that this might be more than just old friends catching up.

Once we find a table in the corner with our drinks, we start simple. The kind of catch up conversation I expected. He asks about my parents, my little brothers and my first semester at college. He seems content to talk about me, genuinely interested in how I’ve been doing, and it occurs to me that he may know my family and my childhood, but he has no real knowledge of who I am now. And in a way, maybe I can start over with him. He didn’t know me for almost all of high school since we stopped spending much time together around middle school, and we certainly never really talked. I decide to take advantage of the opportunity to be who I want to be, to share the parts of me I want to share without worrying that he knows more. Because the truth is, he’s barely been home at all for the last three years.

I ask about his family, even though I never lost touch and already know most of what he tells me. Then I ask about his career, a topic I’m not quite sure how to approach, and, if I’m being honest, intimidates me completely. He doesn’t go into much detail, doesn’t share anything more than what I believe is common knowledge. Maybe it’s better that way.  

After about an hour we say our goodbyes and go our separate ways. At the end of the day it didn’t feel like much more than catching up with someone I used to know, and I realize that I’m grateful for that. I’m not ready for anything more with Shawn. Not because of him so much as all of the things I’m sure come with Shawn Mendes. The things I know nothing about and have no desire to discover. He seemed like he felt the same way about me, content to catch up and go our separate ways, or maybe that’s just what I forced myself to believe.

This is probably why I’m so caught off guard when he calls me later that night, explaining that he wouldn’t normally do something like this, but that he really wants to see me again before he leaves for a week on Saturday. I’m not good under pressure, and I’m even worse at saying no.

....

chapter 2

[authorkatwatson-blog]

Cupcakes at Midnight - Chapter 2

I look at myself in the mirror, wondering where all the years have gone. It feels like last week I was a blushing bride, and yesterday I was picking up the pieces from a failed marriage. But it’s been over a decade.

My phone is in the kitchen, I left it there purposely so that I wouldn’t obsess over looking at it every five seconds.

Instead, I go through my regular nighttime routine, taking my time with each step. The normalcy of it comforts me. I can pretend that I’m not freaking out on the inside. I scoop the cat litter and refill his water as he meows, begging like he’s never been fed before.

I walk back and look at the cupcakes. The cinnamon crunch is gone, of course, but the other three still intrigue me. I’ve never even heard of some of the flavor combinations Ava’s made for me. But I want to try them.

The thought of putting them in my mouth makes me blush, which is ridiculous because surely I’m a grownup who can think dirty things without a childish reaction. I close my eyes and slide my tongue across the silky frosting. The tang of raspberry rises up and makes my mouth water even more. I’m about to dive in to the cake part of the cupcake when I notice my phone lighting up and buzzing.

Ivy must be late night texting me, maybe she’s fighting with Matt again. I swear, I don’t know if those two will make it to their actual wedding.

But there is a tinge of hope that it’s not Ivy.

After debating forcing myself to wait longer to check, I pick the phone up and click the button on the side so I can preview the message.

It’s from her.

What if she texted back to ask me to stop texting?

That would be dumb, since she’s the one that gave me her number, right?

What if she says it was all a mistake and that note was meant for Ivy? That would make sense; Ivy is gorgeous and statuesque, and … not me.

But she didn’t give Ivy the box of cupcakes, did she?

I drive myself crazy with what-ifs, so I just open the text.

I’m so happy to hear from you. What are you up to tonight? Hope it’s not too late to text

I start to tap out a reply, then delete it. Maybe I should wait until tomorrow to reply? Then I realize her message was blue, meaning she’d see the three dots if she happened to be looking at her phone.

And either way, even if it was only going to be a friendship, did I really want to wait and play games? Wasn’t I done with all of that?

Another exciting Friday night, wrapped up in a blanket on the couch watching Netflix, very much enjoying these cupcakes. Thank you again. And no, not too late to text - I use the quiet functions once I go to sleep, so you’re good to text me anytime

I smile, hoping I’m coming across as genuinely as I feel.  When I see the three dots pop up on her side of the screen, my smile grows.

What’s on your current to-binge list? Glad you’re enjoying the cupcakes. Thank you for inspiring them

Thank god she’s a text-in-complete-words person.

Before I walk back to the couch, I pour myself another cup of tea and eye the last two cupcakes. How many cupcakes was too many in one night? I shrug and grab the orange-swirled one.

Well, right now I’m in the middle of Derry Girls. Still have to catch up on Handmaid’s on Hulu, but that won’t be until after I get through a few (probably boring) documentaries.

Instead of clicking the phone off, I set it on the arm of the couch, face up, so I can see if she replies again. Maybe my TV choices would make her realize how utterly snooze-y my life is.

OMG, which epi of HT are you on? Haven’t seen DG, good?

We exchange texts for a few hours, discussing different movies and tv series, finding common likes and dislikes. By the time I yawn for the first time, finally acknowledging how tired I am, I realize it’s past 3 am.

Holy shit, I have to get to bed soon. Will you be around tomorrow?

Jane from five years ago would have thought it was being very forward of me to ask, but right-now Jane is enjoying the conversation and ready for more from life.

I will. Any chance we could continue this conversation in person?

I tap out my reply before I even have time to think it through or be too self-conscious.

Absolutely

Awesome. Let’s play it by ear, but I’ll see you tomorrow, J

The temptation to leave it there gets over-ruled by my giddy, smooshy feelings.

Goodnight. Sweet dreams

That’s the last reply in the series, and I set my phone on the nightstand, long ago having moved to bed to charge my phone. I roll to my side and think about what tomorrow will bring. Cat curls up at my feet and makes his displeasure that we’re all still awake very well known. My eyes can barely stay open, but my brain is a freight train of excitement.

The next morning, I debate what “too early” to text would be. I don’t want to seem overly eager, but I don’t want to intentionally withhold a message just to play some weird unwritten rule game.

I get my laundry done, sweep the kitchen, and putter as much as I can, until finally around mid-day, my phone chirps. Cat looks up at me, ever-annoyed that his nap has been interrupted.

Beer, pizza, and extraordinarily dark dystopian future tv watching?

I shake my head and laugh.

What could make for a better Saturday night?

I can think of a few things. For now, it sounds pretty good, right? Wanna meet at your place? Is that too weird / too soon?

Was that a date? Meeting at my place to watch tv?

Sure, not too soon at all. What time?

We make plans for a few hours later, and I’m still unsure if it’s a date, but I decide it doesn’t matter. I want more fun in my life, so even if we just hang out and get to know each other better, wasn’t that the point?

When the doorbell rings, I practically jump out of the chair. I open the door, and Ava looks like she’s just come from some punk band concert that would be way too cool for me to even consider. I laugh to myself.

“Hey, come in.”

Her hands are full, but she makes her way past me, finding the kitchen immediately.

“I wasn’t sure what pizza toppings you like? I don’t know how we didn’t discuss that. But I went with half cheese, half pepperoni, just to be safe. Sound okay?”

She smiles and a part of me wants to melt at how genuine it is.

“Yeah, sounds great. I’ll just grab plates. Do you need a fork and knife?”

The look on her face is absolutely fucking priceless.

“A fork and knife? For what?”

“Oh man, Ivy is so funny, she had me convinced for a while that everyone eats pizza with a fork and knife. Thank god it’s just her. I was starting to question everything about my twenties.”

“No way. Pizza is a single hand, no utensil kind of food. That’s part of what makes it so perfect. I wasn’t sure what kind of beer you drink, so I just got something generic.”

We open our cans and take them, the pizza, and a roll of paper towels to the coffee table. Between bites, we talk about the season of the show and how we each think it’s going; we make predictions on where it might end up. Then finally, when the pizza is gone and we’re left with just awkward silence, we put the show on.

I can see Ava looking around my apartment as we watch, maybe trying to learn things about my life? Her eyes are on a particular frame over my fireplace.

“That’s my niece, Hailey,” I say, smiling.

We’re sitting across the couch from each other; not too far, but not too close. Cat was always between us, annoyingly adorable as ever.

“Do you have any siblings?”

She smiles. “Nope. Only child.”

“Does that get lonely? I bet it was glorious growing up. No one to fight with for the TV remote, or what kind of pizza to have.”

Ava shrugs and smiles, then turns her attention back to the TV. Her body had been angled toward mine, but she shifts, and then scoots closer. Horrible things happen on the show in front of us, but right in the room? She laces her fingers through mine and my whole body warms.

Is this what it’s supposed to feel like?

A few hours, laughs, and cupcakes later, the sun has set and we’re several episodes into another series. I’m surprised when Ava gets up, yawning. Her arms go over her head as she stretches, and I swear I almost die when I see a sliver of her skin between her shirt and pants.

“I open the bakery in a few hours. I’m sorry, I’m terrible company right now. I probably haven’t said ten words in the last hour.”

“No need to apologize,” I say, standing and touching her arm. “You’ve been great company. I feel bad I’ve been keeping you. You were up so late last night, too. All my fault.” I laugh, trying to downplay my disappointment that the night is ending.

“Mutual blame,” she says, smiling and tugging my arm. It could be a friendly gesture, the hug, but I can’t help but hope it’s the beginning of something more than a friendship.