#I bet he's singing something joyous and stupid

[uwudonoodle]

I learned that Joey Fatone is on Broadway in a show called "& Juliet". I was not an N'SYNC fan growing up. I've never heard of this show, and I live too far away to ever hope to see it... But this image is EVERYTHING!

Thank you for your services, Joey.

[sunlit-squid]

How about “Holy crap, I thought you were dead! Never do that to me again!” for the prompt?

For those who don’t know, my ask box is open. Send me a simping softness prompt, and I’ll write a short sbsp ficlet for you. ✰

i’m back on my bullshit. if you wanna read this ficlet on ao3, the link is here. otherwise, ficlet under the cut!

also tagging @wowthwtslame, who requested the same prompt a while ago. thank you!

In the dead of night, while everyone was asleep, winter descended on Bikini Bottom.

By the time Squidward woke up and peered out the window, Conch Street was completely covered in glittering white snow. In fact, the wintry landscape stretched so far, there was hardly a speckle of sand left -- just deep, undisturbed snow for miles on end.

Squidward vaguely remembered falling asleep to the late night news, in the middle of a special weather report. What was it Perch Perkins said? “6 to 7 inches of snow overnight?” Fishpaste. That was going to be a lot of snow to clear up before work Monday morning.

But for now … it was Sunday. And Sunday meant no Krusty Krab, no rowdy customers, and -- perhaps best of all -- no Spongebob. Squidward sighed dreamily. Yes. Today, he would stay in, and tomorrow, he would worry about the snow.

-0-

The setup was perfect: soothing herbal tea, a box full of bonbons, and a romantic drama on the television. Squidward had donned his softest, silkiest robe for the occasion, and was just settling onto the couch -- when there was a loud, forceful knock at the door. The octopus groaned. There was only one person who would be willing to come over in this weather…

Sure enough, a few moments later, Spongebob’s high-pitched voice echoed all throughout the once-serene moai: “Heeeeey, Squidwaaaard!” The loud, forceful knocking began anew, drowning out Squidward’s TV entirely.

Annoyed, the octopus pressed pause on his romantic drama, and trudged angrily over to the door. Flinging it open with all the force he could muster, Squidward readied himself for a scream -- but was instead startled by the faces on his doorstep.

Spongebob was there, of course -- but he was accompanied by Patrick and Sandy, too. All three of them were dressed in wintry ski gear, looking bright and chipper as ever. Spongebob, however, looked oddly flushed, a soft shade of red dusting his yellow cheeks. Perhaps he was cold.

“Howdy, Squidward!” greeted Sandy, waving her gloved hand enthusiastically. “We were just about to head to Sand Mountain for some skiin’, and thought ya might want to tag along.”

“Yeah, come with us, Squidward!” Patrick chimed in. “Spongebob reeeaaaaally wants you to -- oof!”

There was some indiscernible movement behind Spongebob, which made Patrick double over in pain. Sandy, however, continued to smile, a bit forcefully now. Pushing Spongebob forward, the squirrel continued, “Anyway, whaddaya say, Squidward?”

Squidward blinked. This was weird. For one, the trio at his doorstep seemed oddly tense. And for two, Squidward was not a good skier. Or a skier at all, really. The last time he skied at Sand Mountain, nearly a year ago, had been an accident -- Spongebob lost control of his skis, and barreled directly into Squidward (who, mind you, wasn’t even skiing, just spectating). The force of the collision carried both of them across the mountain, and into the icy waters beyond.

After that incident, they both got a nasty cold, which lasted for nearly two weeks. During that time, Spongebob insisted on coming over frequently, just to hang out. I’m so sick, I can’t hang out with anyone else! the sponge explained. But you’re sick too, Squidward, so let’s get better together, okay?

It was the worst two weeks of Squidward’s life -- never mind that Spongebob cooked good meals and watched the same shows and looked really cute in his sleep…

Wait. No. No.

“No,” snapped Squidward, moving to close his door. “Absolutely not.”

Before the door could close completely, however, Spongebob stepped forward, wedging himself in the doorway. “But Squiiidward,” the sponge whined, pouting beautifully. His brilliant blue eyes shimmered in the mid-morning sun. “I wanna hang out with you today!”

The octopus froze, heat rising to his cheeks. With a deep breath, Squidward yelled, “I am not going, and that is final!” before slamming the door in their faces.

-0-

Somehow, some way -- Squidward wound up in the backseat of Sandy’s newly-invented wintermobile, trudging through the snow-packed streets of Bikini Bottom. Spongebob was seated right next to him, singing along to a cheery Christmas song on the radio. Patrick, in the passenger seat, was singing too, but it was clear he didn’t know the words at all.

The octopus scowled. How did this happen?

It was Spongebob’s fault, no doubt. One moment, Squidward was lounging on the couch -- and the next, he was rummaging around the closet, searching for his winter gear. Something about Spongebob’s words -- I wanna hang out with you today! -- made the octopus feel stupid, loopy, and warm.

Squidward was no stranger to loneliness. It was his oldest friend, his most constant companion, and the octopus was … okay with that. Content, even. But Spongebob Squarepants, with his stupid smile and pretty blue eyes and cute face, just had to go and ruin it, every time. Squidward, you wanna watch a movie? Squidward, you wanna go to the park? Squidward, you wanna try out this new cookie recipe? And despite Squidward’s better judgment … whether due to loneliness, or boredom, or what have you … he would say yes, every time.

This was one of those times.

“Hey, hey,” Spongebob whispered, interrupting Squidward’s thoughts. “I’m glad you changed your mind. I always have more fun with you around, Squidward.”

Squidward blushed furiously, folding his arms across his chest. “Don’t read into it. I just thought it would be good to get out of the house.”

“Oh, it will be! And I practiced some cool tricks,” said the sponge, waving his arms around erratically. “I wanna show them to you, okay?”

Squidward smirked. “If you get hurt, I’ll just point and laugh.”

Spongebob stuck out his bottom lip, in an adorable pout. “I won’t get hurt. I’m an expert!”

“Uh-huh,” said Squidward dryly. “I bet you are.”

Spongebob ignored that snarky remark, and instead moved on to talk about the different tricks he had learned. All the while, Squidward’s gaze lingered on the poriferan’s face: the way it lit up, the way it radiated warmth. On occasion, the octopus would glance up to find Patrick and Sandy eyeing them through the rearview mirror. Whenever they were caught, however, the starfish and the squirrel would immediately look away, whistling awkwardly.

What was up with them?

-0-

When they finally got to Sand Mountain, it was apparent they weren’t the only ones who thought of skiing that day. A decent crowd of Bikini Bottomites had gathered at the mountain, either skiing or talking or drinking hot cocoa from a nearby stand. Some children had even gathered at the base of the mountain, caught up in an intense snowball fight. In all, there was a joyous vibe in the air, the unique, special sort that only comes with very heavy snowfall.

Hurriedly, the four of them piled out of Sandy’s wintermobile, and headed for the slopes. After getting their gear and equipment all squared away, Patrick and Sandy turned to Spongebob and Squidward, with strained, too-wide smiles.

“Well, uh -- Patrick and I are gonna test out the new challenge course on the other side o��� the mountain,” said Sandy, nervously readjusting her ski goggles, which for some reason were strapped around her helmet. “So, uh -- we’ll meet up with y’all in a bit, alright?”

Squidward blinked in confusion. “Why can’t we just go with you -- ?”

“Uh, bye, Spongeward! I mean, Squidbob! I mean … uh …,” sputtered Patrick, as Sandy hurriedly dragged him away -- in the wrong direction, Squidward noted.

“What’s up with them?” asked the octopus, vaguely gesturing to Sandy and Patrick, who were slowly disappearing from sight.

Spongebob laughed, a little too loudly. “Oh, don’t worry about them -- it’s -- uh. They’re, uh. Dating,” stammered the sponge, awkwardly. “They’re just, like, super shy about it.”

Squidward did not believe that for one single second. “Spongebob, what is going on?”

Before Spongebob could reply, the poriferan was swept up by two strong, muscly red arms, tossing him in the air and catching him again. “Spongebob Squarepants!” exclaimed Larry, towering over Squidward in that intimidating way of his. “Buddy, you ready to hit those slopes?”

Spongebob giggled as he was tossed in the air. “I sure am!”

When Larry finally caught sight of Squidward standing there, the lobster laughed loudly. “Oh, Squidward’s here! Good!” said Larry, with a huge grin on his face. “You know, Spongebob has some real cool tricks up his sleeve. He’s been practicing a lot just to impress --”

“AAAH!” yelled Spongebob, for seemingly no reason, startling both Squidward and Larry. After a few seconds, the poriferan laughed nervously, and sputtered, “Oh, uh, sorry, just -- getting all my screams out now, while I can. What were you saying, Larry?”

Larry blinked in confusion. “Well, I was saying, that you’ve been practicing real hard to impress --”

“AAAAH!” screamed Spongebob, louder this time.

“To impress --”

“AAAAAAAAH!” yelled the sponge, once more. This time, the scream was so loud, a pile of snow came rolling off the peak of Sand Mountain, and onto some Bikini Bottomites down below. In the distance, someone screamed something about a leg.

Larry stopped talking. Sighing, he put Spongebob down and said, “Look, why don’t we just … head to the slope, alright?”

Spongebob nodded, seemingly all out of screams. “Okie-doke!”

Quietly, the lobster and the sponge began making their way over to Mariana Course, notably the hardest slope at Sand Mountain. Squidward followed close behind them, thoroughly baffled. Sure, Spongebob was hyperactive, energetic, and borderline insane, but this … this was something entirely different. Spongebob seemed nervous, to the point of genuine distress, and Squidward for the life of him couldn’t figure out why.

Impulsively, the octopus reached out to pull Spongebob back, so they were both walking a few paces behind Larry. “You know, you don’t have to do this course if you’re nervous about it,” the octopus mumbled, keeping his voice low so the lobster wouldn’t overhear. “I mean, it’s not like I care or anything, in fact it would be funny if you, uh, got hurt or whatever, but … the Mariana Course is kind of … questionable, you know?”

By ‘questionable’, Squidward meant damn near fatal. The Mariana Course wasn’t even an official part of Sand Mountain, until the Drasticals broke it in by force. Its rocky, hazardous terrain practically financed the new wing of the Bikini Bottom General Hospital.

Spongebob, however, seemed determined. “Trust me, Squidward, I’ve got it all under control!” he chirped. Then, with a small, cute chuckle, the sponge asked, “Why? Are you worried about me?”

Squidward felt hot, all of a sudden. The octopus stormed ahead, warmth clinging to his cheeks. “Let’s just get this over with!”

Behind him, Spongebob giggled. “Whatever you say, Squiddy.”

-0-

Squidward had to admit, Spongebob had definitely been practicing. From his spot on the observer’s loft, the octopus could see everything on the Mariana Course: from the brambling bushes to the sharp, jagged rocks, to the slippery snow drifts down below. One by one, Spongebob maneuvered through them all, with grace, aplomb -- even a touch of arrogance.

Spongebob’s tricks were plentiful, and occasionally scary: at one point, the sponge was suspended high in the air, doing crazy flips and turns, all while his skis raced ahead of him. Squidward was worried, for a moment, that the skis would outpace Spongebob -- but somehow, the poriferan managed to land perfectly, right atop both of them, once again.

Squidward found himself sighing, dreamily. Sure, Spongebob was annoying ninety percent of the time, but the boy was also weirdly athletic … which had a certain, insufferable charm to it.

“Hey, Squidward,” came Larry’s voice. Squidward jumped slightly -- he’d honestly forgotten the lobster was still around. When Squidward turned, Larry was approaching with two mugs of hot cocoa in both claws. Gently, he handed one to Squidward, who accepted it gratefully. “Drink while it’s hot.”

“Thanks,” said Squidward. The warmth of the mug felt lovely, especially in the bitter cold.

Larry and Squidward sat in silence, watching Spongebob traverse the Mariana Course, for a while -- sipping their cocoa and occasionally gasping at the sponge’s antics. The cocoa was delicious, the perfect soothing drink for a day on the slopes. After a lengthy, peaceful silence, Larry finally spoke up.

“Spongebob really likes you, you know,” said the lobster, finishing the last of his cocoa.

Squidward froze -- and it had nothing to do with the cold temperatures. Wrapping his tentacles around the mug, Squidward sifted around his brain for a good reply. Coming up empty, the octopus simply said, “Yeah. He’s made that pretty clear.”

Larry shifted, leaning on the railing in front of them. “You know, he … asked me to teach him some of those tricks. To cheer you up.”

Squidward turned now, eyes fixed on Larry. “What?” he said, stupidly.

The lobster shrugged. “I don’t really know the details,” Larry sighed. “All I know is, Spongebob thought you seemed sadder lately. And he wanted to try and make you feel better.”

Squidward felt both hot and cold, all of a sudden. In truth … he had fallen into a bit of a depression lately. Over the course of one month, Squidward’s creative pursuits hit a new, staggering low: another one of his scripts had been rejected by the Bikini Bottom Art Society; he was laughed out of the auditions for the Bikini Bottom Philharmonic; and, to top it all off, Squilliam had just premiered a groundbreaking musical in New Kelp City.

Already, the reviews were in: once more, Squilliam was rocking the oceanic world … and Squidward was still just a cashier.

Squidward thought that because he was usually depressed anyway, no one would notice if he was … slightly-more-depressed than usual. But apparently, someone had. And apparently …

“Dear Neptune!” Larry’s sudden, loud voice rocketed Squidward out of his thoughts.

“What? What’s going on?” asked Squidward, looking around frantically -- until he saw it. A tiny yellow body, near the edge of the Mariana Course, lying still, so perfectly still.

-0-

Quickly, Larry and Squidward stole a snowmobile from the mountain staff, and hurriedly rushed towards Spongebob’s tiny, unmoving body. On the way, the lobster explained what happened: Spongebob had been in the middle of one of his stunts. Everything was going perfectly fine, until he had to land on his skis again. The back of Spongebob’s coat got stuck on a kelp branch, which flung him to the edge of the Mariana Course. He landed on sharp, jagged rocks, and from then on, did not move.

Squidward felt a pit opening up inside his stomach. Dear, blessed Neptune and Poseidon. Let him be okay.

When they finally reached the cluster of sharp, jagged rocks, Squidward could hardly believe his eyes. Lying perfectly still, eyes closed, barely breathing, was Spongebob Squarepants, a massive, sharp rock jutted straight through his chest. Behind him, Larry threw up in the woods.

After he recovered, Larry sputtered out, “We should -- we should try to move him … I don’t know a lot about sponge anatomy, but if he stays like that, he’ll regenerate around it … and that’ll make things complicated for the docs … ”

Squidward was already moving. The octopus used his tentacles to carefully maneuver his way around the sharp crevices. When he finally reached Spongebob, the cephalopod shivered with fright. It was bad. The sharp rock wasn’t very long, but it was long enough to look horrific, especially embedded inside of Spongebob’s tiny body.

“Sponge … Spongebob?” croaked Squidward, a flood of anxiety washing over him.

There was no response -- only silence, terrible silence, where Spongebob’s sharp, jittering laugh should be. Squidward felt cold. He did this for me. To make me happy. Me.

“Damn it,” muttered Squidward. Before he knew it, he was crying, large globs of tears streaming down his face. “Why? Why are you like this? Just to make me happy … are you an idiot?”

Suddenly, there was a claw on Squidward’s shoulder. Looking up, he saw that Larry was there, quiet yet firm. Carefully, the lobster latched onto Spongebob, and gently pulled the boy off of the jagged edge. Squidward’s eyes were locked on the rock where Spongebob once was for a moment too long. Then, he carefully made his way out of the jagged rock pile.

Larry had laid Spongebob down in the snow, just beyond the pit of rocks. The gaping hole left in the sponge’s body was terrifying to look at, so open and hollow and wide.

“Medics are coming,” said Larry, with a cough. “But since it’s a sponge, they might take longer … you know, because they --”

“Regenerate,” finished Squidward, kneeling down next to Spongebob’s cold, still form. “He’s not regenerating right now … is that bad?”

“Give it a moment,” breathed Larry, going to grab a blanket from off of the snowmobile. “Kid fell hard. It might be a while.”

Larry returned, blanket in tow, and wrapped it all over Spongebob’s body. Then, he stood, and they all made their way back to the nearby lodge, quiet as can be.

-0-

When they got back to the warmth of the lodge, they laid Spongebob down on a couch in the lobby. Larry draped the blanket over Spongebob once again, to try and hide his wounds as he recovered. Now, only the top of him was visible, his yellow nose just barely peeking out.

This way, Squidward could almost trick himself into thinking the sponge was asleep. With that soft, cute smile, those fluttering eyelashes … yes. Spongebob was just sleeping, and soon, he would wake up, and laugh, and all would be right with the world.

As time passed, several Bikini Bottomites came through, to ask what happened. Larry explained carefully, since Squidward could hardly bring himself to speak. At some point, Patrick and Sandy showed up too, looking equally devastated, Sandy muttering something about I knew this idea was plumb awful, why didn’t I trust my gut …

All the while, Squidward held Spongebob’s squeaky little hand, and did not let go for a second -- even when the medics finally arrived. By then, things looked good: Spongebob was regenerating normally. But he still hadn’t woken up yet.

When the medics left, Squidward almost fell asleep holding onto Spongebob’s hand. That’s when Sandy showed up, right beside him.

“Hey,” she said. Her tone was friendly, but her concern was clear.

“Hey,” said Squidward, giving Spongebob’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Sandy hesitated for a while. Then, with blunt simplicity, she said, “I think he could make ya happy, Squidward. If ya let him.”

A funny feeling settled in the pit of Squidward’s stomach. Looking down at Spongebob’s resting, peaceful face, the octopus replied, “But what if I hurt him?”

The squirrel shrugged. “If you’re already worried about it, I’d say that ain’t gonna happen.”

Squidward found himself smiling, despite himself. “Thanks, Sandy.”

She shook her head, laughing to herself. “Don’t mention it,” she said. “Just tired o’ watching y’all play hard to get, is all.”

-0-

At some point, Larry, Patrick, and Sandy went to grab food, in case Spongebob woke up and needed sustenance … leaving Squidward to man the helm. Come nightfall, the sponge finally stirred.

Immediately, Squidward sat up -- just as Spongebob sat up, too, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. Then, he laughed -- thank Neptune for that laugh -- and turned to face Squidward, enthusiastically.

“Did you see that cool trick I did --” the sponge began, but was interrupted by Squidward, enveloping him in a huge, crushing hug.

“Holy crap, I thought you were dead! Never do that to me again!” cried the octopus, shaking and shuddering with tears. “You absolute idiot.”

Spongebob, caught off guard, simply held Squidward closer. “You know I regenerate,” said the sponge, slightly muffled by Squidward’s shoulder.

“You were impaled, Spongebob --”

“I was? That’s crazy --”

“Spongebob,” said Squidward, firmly, pulling away from the embrace. Awkwardly, the octopus looked down, sighing heavily. “Look, you … you don’t have to go to extreme lengths just to make me happy.”

Spongebob blinked, then blushed. “Who told you --”

“It doesn’t matter,” interrupted Squidward, whose face had erupted in bright splotches of red. “Just -- just be around me, alright? That’s all you gotta do, is be around me, and suddenly I’m all … stupid, and happy or whatever. Whatever! Alright? You don’t have to do … all of this.” Squidward gestured vaguely to the lodge, and the ski courses beyond.

It was Spongebob’s turn to be red in the face. “That’s … it? That’s all I have to do?”

Squidward sighed, and before he knew what he was doing, pressed a soft, chaste kiss atop Spongebob’s head. “That’s all you’ve ever had to do.”

“Aww,” came a loud voice from directly behind them. When they turned, they found Patrick, Larry, and Sandy in the doorway, holding a bunch of bags from the Barg’N Mart. Patrick was clapping, and in the process dropped the majority of his grocery bags. “Great job, buddy! Mission accomplished!” shouted the seastar, proudly.

Squidward dropped his head into his tentacles. “I hate all of you,” he muttered, despite the small smile curling across his lips.

[bubblyani]

Christmas Blues

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

A Lucifer Morningstar Christmas One Shot

Genre: Fluff

Authors Note: Some heart warming Lucifer Christmas Fluff is just what we need. Something perfect for Christmas eve. Hope you all enjoy!

Los Angeles, it has always been a spectacle. But it seems to double in spirit, especially during Christmas time. So it was no surprise how you would prefer to walk, than drive on short trips around the city.

Going to LUX for example.

It was your first ever Christmas here, and it certainly felt different. Involuntary humming of Christmas tunes may reach your ears, but then they’d stop, for your heart broke a bit every time you did.

Waitresses, bartenders, dancers dressed provocatively in red, white and green, LUX remained LUX; with a Christmas touch of a lustful nature. Spotting the one you hoped to find, you swam through the crowded sea of people towards the bar.

“Lucifer!”

Beautiful women draped in his arms, Lucifer Morningstar turned upon hearing your voice from across the room. Flashing a bright smile, he was certainly happy to see you. You may be his friend, but that does not hold you back from appreciating the handsome man he always was.

“Y/N! Darling...you made it” he cried. 

“Indeed I did...with purpose of course” Smiling back, you replied loudly as you held up your leather bag.

“Oh yes! That....” he remembered, releasing the two women from his arms, “Y/N...meet the twins Selina and Sylvia” he said, gesturing to the beautiful brunettes by his side,  “Excuse me ladies, but there are some important matters that need to be attended to...” he said, amidst their protests and their pouts, “...but no matter. I will  be right with you two”

Guilt seeped through you, being the party crasher tonight. A night with Lucifer Morningstar apparently was quoted “The best night ever”. So you’d pout too if you were lucky enough to be in their place.

“He’ll be back soon, sorry” mouthing the words, you looked apologetic as you could be, before you followed your friend upstairs.

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

“I bet it was a tough bargain”

“Well...your name certainly did the trick . I really don’t know why you need this version of the book”

“Oh there’s something about Oscar Wilde that i just cannot resist”

Shaking your head with confusion, you handed him the old leather bound book.

“So...what plans await you tonight Y/N?” Lucifer asked, as he got up. You sighed, dreading that question.

“I really prefer you asking me that any day but today Lucifer”

“Why? What’s the matter?” He looked troubled, while pouring you a glass of scotch.

Suddenly it all felt more difficult. Pressing your lips together, you began.

“Cause it’s Christmas...”

“Chri-? Ah Christmas...ah yes...” feigning laughter, Lucifer looked up, “Good one dad...” he said, sarcasm quite strong there, “...don’t really even see the importance of this bloody stupid day”

“It’s not stupid” you interjected, accepting the glass he offered. Although that response came out faster than expected.

“Y/N...” Lucifer began with surprise, “I did not take you for a religious person...I’m mortified”

“I’m not-…” pausing, you were aware of your over emotionality, “I’m not religious” You sighed once again, before taking a sip “....truthfully it’s not the religious part I’m a fan of”

“Then?” He asked. You shrugged.

“It’s the family part. Being with family”

You said, while you got lost in your own thoughts for a few seconds. Little did you know, pure concern was all that your friend could show you at that moment.

“So...does that mean you’re not spending Christmas  with anyone?” You continued with an inquiry.

Lucifer laughed. “No....why should I?”

“How’s that possible ?” You kept on, “What about your friends? Chloe?”

“She, Dan and the little one are...”

“Of course...” you said, nodding, “and Linda  and Ella probably are occupied too from the looks of it-Maze! What about Maze?” You asked, snapping your fingers.

“Out on a bounty hunt...” Lucifer answered casually, “Christmas is a great time for crime, surprisingly….not-”

“AMANADIEL?!?”

Lucifer almost spat in his drink as you yelled it out while standing.

Lucifer sighed, “...out of the country. Y/N, what’s the matter with you?”

“Wow...” you breathed, shaking your head, “Unbelievable”  as you sat down on the piano stool.

“Well believe it Ms. Y/L/N!” He said, sitting right next to you. You could not help but click your tongue. “It’s just that ...this is the time to be with the people you love...” you said, looking at him “Don’t you miss your family?”

“That...is not for me to decide” Lucifer replied coldly, taking another sip.

“Well...whatever the case, I’m sure your family misses you” you said, casually playing notes of a G major chord.

“Oh I highly doubt that” He opposed.

“What??“ your voice went high. “No no ...” taking his glass, you took a huge sip, making a disgusted face right afterwards that made him laugh, “...Lucifer ...no matter what...family is family”

Aware of the profound words that you spat out, you smiled at him, “I’m annoying you now, huh?”

“Oh...darling...” taking the glass back from you, Lucifer continued, “You can never annoy me”

Moved by his sweetness, you looked down at the piano keys, “You know...my ex he...he broke up with me last Christmas. It was...” you shuddered, “...horrible. But...I had my family with me. So all was good. This time however...no one” your tone lowered as you came to that horrid realization.

“Well...” Lucifer began, “not no one” 

His kindness moved you even more. So much so you felt like you might turn into mush. He was right.

Suppressing a smile, you kept staring  at the keys, “...You a fan of Christmas songs?”

“Ah don’t you dare steer me in to this” Lucifer protested in an instant. 

“No no I'm not  ...” you chuckled. “It’s just that ...one song in particular really speaks to me tonight. I wondered  if you know this one...” As the fingers caressed the keys until they finally landed on the chord, you cleared your throat as you began to sing: 

“The... jingle bells are jingling , The streets are white with snow

The happy crowds are mingling

But there's no one that I know” 

With a scoff, you continued:

“I'm sure that you'll forgive me” Looking over at Lucifer, you sang in your most beautiful,

“If I don't enthuse.I guess I've got the Christmas blues...

“...don’t you know this?” You asked, only to find him looking confused.

“I've done my window shopping.

There's not a store I've missed

But what's the use of stopping

When there's no one on your list

You'll know the way I'm feeling

When you love and you lose”

The hint of sadness in your voice was quite evident:

“ I guess I've got the Christmas blues”

You couldn’t believe how he was still unfamiliar with this song. Then again, so did most people. However, you did not give up. Playing the next chord, you sang with conviction:

“When somebody wants you

Somebody needs you

Christmas is a joy of joy”

Enamored with the words, your head was up on the clouds. Until  it came down in an instant with the next chord:

“But friends, when you're lonely You'll find that it's only-”

“A thing for little girls and little boys”

Your ears were invigorated by the sudden emergence of Lucifer’s voice. “I remember this one” he finally said, with a happy realization. Queuing each other, you both drew in a deep breath :

“May all your days be merry

Your seasons full of cheer”

His accompaniment complimented the voices as the song continued:

“But 'til it's January

I'll just go and disappear”

You both chuckled with empathy. For it seemed so relatable.

“Oh, Santa may have brought you some stars for your shoes,

But Santa only brought me the blues”

Finally, you felt as if you were gazing in to the eyes of someone who finally knew.

“Those brightly packaged tinsel covered Christmas... ....blues”

When the ending chord came into formation, Lucifer took his hands off the keyboard with a smile on his face. Especially since he noticed you were about to burst with excitement.

“We sound ....so great together “ you said, stars twinkling in your eyes. “YES! indeed we do” nodding, Lucifer replied.

Clapping your hands, you were ecstatic, “It’s so cool...”

“What say we do this every week at Lux ?”

You could not even believe what just escaped Lucifer’s lips.

“Duet ?” You asked, wide eyed,  “...with you? Sign me up!” Clapping once again, You swore your smile would combust into billions and light up the room. And suddenly,  your heart felt festive as it should be on Christmas Eve. Enough to fill the rest of the night.

The singing did not stop, in fact, it continued longer than you imagined. Plans started to take shape, with various attempts on several repertoires. Harmonizing with his beautiful voice gave you an all new kind of high. For the vocal chemistry was just right.

Singing led to hankering for food. Lucifer watched you, suppressing his laughter until his finally couldn’t. Especially when you sang to the phone, placed your order for pizza. And when the innocent delivery boy arrived, it was you who couldn’t stop laughing when your friend sang to him, tipping generously as he did so. 

The piano finally took a break when the music began to play in the background. A mini dance party was declared by you. “Of course, this is the more humble version than what you have downstairs” you said as you stretched yourself.

Fueled by the joyous spirit, Lucifer surprisingly agreed, dancing alongside you while challenging you with various styles.

“Surely you must have seen Pulp Fiction...” you’d tease him,

“Of course i have ...how dare you even doubt “ Mr. Morningstar replied, not losing to your movements as he flaunted his figure in rhythm.

Many twists later, you found yourself involuntarily looking at your watch.

12:30 am

Finally, you did it. Twisting and sobering your way into a new day. A day you dreaded to spend alone.

“Well...what do ya know?” You said, panting, “It’s midnight and-“ gasping, you came to a realization, “Oh no!” You cried out, covering your mouth, “The TWINS!..they must have been waiting for you”

Guilt washed over you, for you never intended to crash the party.

“Ah! not to worry...” Lucifer said, disregarding it immediately, “I’m sure they found themselves something to be entertained by...ah! pleasuring each other for example...”

You burst out with laughter, “...eww” 

Truthfully, you stood there before him, feeling nothing but grateful.

“Merry Christmas Lucifer!” You smiled, “...Thank You for a memorable evening” “Merry Christmas to you darling...and stop being so polite” Lucifer chuckled, welcoming you with open arms as you went for an embrace.

In the cold winter that reigned the city, you never felt this warm. His embrace, it felt special. More than ever. Safe in his arms, you were reminded of the joy you felt with your family. The joy that was birthed with pure love. Except it was different. But in a good way. You did not want to let go. You reluctantly did though, to his surprise.

“Um yeah...” you muttered, with your hands on your waist, “So...I guess I’ll be going then...” Leaving was the last thing on your mind. Grabbing your bag quickly, you just wished for a reason that could ultimately make you stay.

“Wait!” Lucifer cried out the moment you passed him.

“Yeah?” You asked, turning around in a flash. “It’s late...” he struggled. You raised your eyebrows , “It’s only midnight, Lucifer”

“Still...it’s Late” he stressed out, hands on his waist, “Stay...will you?” His voice grew soft with his humble request. You could not believe your ears.

“You really don’t have to be polite-”

“I insist...” he interrupted, “Stay... please”

You smiled, willfully throwing in the towel. For you were glad Lucifer Morningstar gave you a reason to stay.

——————————————————

A nice, hot shower cleaned you, and his one of his crisp white shirts along with a pair of boxers certainly cozied you up. Little did you know, the next dilemma would be the sleeping arrangements.

“I really don’t mind the couch Lucifer...” 

“Nonsense! You’re taking the bed. I’m perfectly fine at the couch”

Sitting on one corner of the bed, you patted on the other side, “Come on...let’s share. I don’t bite”

“Oh...” with a mischievous chuckle, Lucifer continued, “I certainly don’t mind if you do-”

“Just please come on!” Rolling your eyes, you insisted.

It felt strange, to watch him climb on to the bed so carefully, and lay on his designated corner with discipline. So much it made you chuckle with disbelief. He did not move an inch, as if he was afraid to hurt you.

Except all this led to an awkward  silence that filled the room. Until you had enough of that.

“...You are allowed to go down you know!” You began with guilt, “ Party away my friend...Or I can actually go... back I don’t wan-”

“No!” He answered instantly, “It’s just that...this feels new. Laying in bed with a woman just to...sleep”

Affected by his adorable nature, you giggled, laying on your side to look at him.

“Damn...” you said, “Your life must be a roller coaster ride of one night stands”

“Yes...I suppose it is...” he said, quite fascinated by your expression. Suddenly, you had an urge. You just knew you had to fulfill it.

“Lucifer...” “Mmm??”

You took a deep breath:  “Can you hold me?“ Breaking into a soft chuckle, he smiled: “Oh of course I can, love...come here”

Excited, you wriggled your way towards his open arms, until he wrapped one around you, bringing you close. The moment your head rested on his chest, you felt that special warmth once again.

“That’s better” you breathed.

When you felt his hold on you tighten , butterflies began to birth inside. Before you grew curious, you just ignored it, indulging in the joy you were blessed to be immersed in.

“I rather have your constant rambling than the plain quiet...I just realized that“ your honesty spoke out.

Looking down at your head, Lucifer seemed glad, “Really??” He asked, attempting to stroke it.

“Yep...” you nodded, “...tell me about one of your lustful adventures...they seem fun” you said, staring at the ceiling.

“My...this seems too good to be true!”

——————————————————

“So then what happened? What was her fantasy?”

Dying of curiosity, you asked, snuggled in his warmth. Lucifer sighed.

“Her fantasy was...drum roll please...Having sex at the Ball Pit of a Chuck E Cheese”

“What? No waaaay...”

“Yes...can you believe it? apparently the thought of getting caught turns the minx on”

“Oh ho! That type huh?” You replied, suddenly becoming more aware of your eyelashes as you slowly began to blink, “So what was your response?”

“I said...I’d rather eat a plate of warm mayonnaise than visit that Child laden Cesspool”

You chuckled at his response, along with a little yawn.

“But still...” Lucifer continued, “...a little practice wouldn’t hurt anyone. So there we w-”

A snore. A loud snore, interrupted him. And he found it actually belonged to you.

Sound asleep, there you were, comfortable in his arms with a soft smile adorning your face.

Smiling back, Lucifer could not help but hold you a bit tighter. He looked up, only to whisper something in a way he never imagined.

“ Ah Christmas“ he said, with a sense of gratefulness, “Good one, dad”

——————————————————

Tagged: @ladyofwalpurgis​​ @kittenlittle24​ @aberrant-annie​​ @ellimcgiseler​​ @therealcap​

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[justafewsmallsteps]

The Look Up Setup

For PST, it’s still 12/30 so here’s my technically on time @inusecretsanta gift for @moongoddesslee​ ! Hope you enjoy this college grad AU. 

Prompt: InuKag Mistletoe Shenanigans Title: The Look Up Setup Word count: 4759 Rating: T

He wasn’t exactly happy to be here, but he’d somehow gotten roped into it by his classmates, the conniving jerks. He didn’t go to these stupid things, and everyone knew it. It was a goddamn conspiracy!

Of course Sango knew that when she orchestrated the class party, making a big deal of asking him right after asking Kagome. Then there was that stupid Secret Santa idea. Of course he “just so happened” to randomly pull Kagome’s name out of the hat. Sango’s smug smile and Miroku’s wicked grin told him everything he needed to know. He couldn’t skip out if she was going to be there and he was in charge of her gift. Never mind that he totally could if he wanted to! He could have stayed home tonight instead of being here in this stupid karaoke room with over a dozen of them. It was loud and obnoxious. He couldn’t wait to get out of here. That’s why his legs wouldn’t stop bouncing anxiously up and down. It had nothing to do with her, and when she’d be here, and if she was coming, and if this whole thing was a fucking mistake because what if she didn’t even show up, and if she’d even like the gift he picked out for her.

It’s not like he spent hours roaming around the mall for her. Never mind that he hated the mall.

Inuyasha did his best to shove himself as far into the vinyl seat as possible.

God, what if Kagome never even showed up? He should never have let her get to him like this. They were just supposed to be classmates, nothing more. It didn’t matter how often she smiled at him, or greeted him as he walked in, or slowly wormed her way into his life. This was what happened when you let people get to you! You turned into a dope!

When the door opened for a fifth time, he couldn’t help but turn to look. Pathetic. It was the server with their drinks, because who else would it be? He watched as everyone grabbed their glasses from the table, several of his classmates already on their way to a decent buzz. Great, just what he needed, a bunch of drunk college grad students slurring around him and babbling about the historical inaccuracies in the latest hit Edo-drama. That’s what he got for going for his Masters in Social Studies.

Miroku took a seat next to him and swung his arm around his shoulder, well into his second beer. Not enough to get him drunk, but just enough to set him looser than usual, which, from knowing the guy, was plenty more than Inuyasha wanted to handle. He wondered if he’d have to slump him over his shoulder by the end of the night. He didn’t fucking plan on it.

“Inuyasha! Nice to see you pal! Glad you could make it!” He jostled him.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Who could be in a bad mood? We’re off for the holidays, New Year’s is just around the corner, and we’re done with that major research paper! As much as I loved comparative culture, I’m most joyous to reclaim my regular life away from my desktop.”

Okay, so even Inuyasha had to admit he could at least relate to that. For now he wouldn’t have to worry about being up at odd hours of the night doing research. As much as he liked his topic and was sure Kaede would too, he’d been antsy to just turn the damn thing in to get it over with. “Yeah, sure.”

“Oh come on. Get into the spirit! It’s Christmas! We’re at a party!”

He rolled his eyes in response. “There’s no reason to be so nervous, man!” Miroku teased with a smirk.

“Shut up!” Inuyasha sputtered.

He lowered his volume but playfully dug his elbow against his ribcage. “Kagome’ll be here soon enough, you rascal!”

His face felt like it went through a steamer. “Oi, I said shut yer mouth! What makes you think I’m waiting on her anyways?”

“Oh, I don’t know, the everything about you? And I bet I know why you’re extra on edge. Has to do with what’s in that box, doesn’t it?” Miroku gave a pointed look to the gift he’d tucked under his arm.

“Mind your business!”

“I understand,” he sighed, clearly ignoring him. “Finding the perfect gift for the perfect woman, it is no easy task. Whatever you get her is like a confession of your heart’s innermost thoughts. What you think of her, how you think of her.”

“And how would you know that?” Inuyasha deadpanned.

“From experience.” He turned his attention to his Sango.

“There’s no way you pulled her name.” “I may have done some talking and managed a trade.”

“That sounds more like you,” he deadpanned. Inuyasha paused, letting the words sink in. The gift would mean that much huh? “So, why’re you so calm about this whole gift exchange thing? What’d you get her?” he mumbled with a blush.

The door cracked open again, this time revealing exactly who Inuyasha had been waiting for.

“Ah, we’ll just have to wait and see. Nice talking to you!” Miroku gave him a wink and hard pat on the back as he stood up. “Kagome, welcome!” he greeted.

Wait and see, what could that mean? Inuyasha watched the man with a confused stare. God, knowing that pervert he might’ve dared to gift her underwear or something equally distasteful.

“Sango, I’m sorry for being so late.” He turned to see Kagome smiling apologetically as she walked in. Her cheeks were flushed from hurrying in the cold.

“Don’t worry about it! I’m glad you’re here now. You should take a seat, order something to drink and heat up. Everyone’s already gotten started.”

She assessed the room, the Christmas-colored lights swirling around as a pair of guys sang a rock song while swaying arm in arm. “I see that.”

Miroku took the chance to talk. “If you’re cold, I was just warming up that seat there for you,” he offered, ushering her to where he had just been sitting next to Inuyasha.

Of course.

“Oh! Thank you.” Her eyes landed on Inuyasha just as she hovered next to him. “I’d like to sit here, if you don’t mind?”

“No!” he yelped.

Kagome froze.

“No, as in, I don’t mind!” Inuyasha corrected. “You can sit here, if that’s what you want. I don’t control you or anything. Do what you want!”  

She smiled shyly, and he felt doomed. He denied being nervous before, but now that she was sitting right next to him there was nowhere to escape. It was him, her, and the gift under his sweaty palm.

“Nice to see you, Inuyasha,” she offered a smile.

He stiffly nodded.

Sensing that was all she’d get for an answer for now, she took a few moments to get her bearings. “Looks like quite the party. Have you sung anything yet?” Kagome asked, removing her gloves and scarf before setting them over her purse.

He shook his head. “No.” God,would he ever be able to say more than a single word to her again?

“You planning on it?” She goaded. At least she was trying. She always did.

The least he could do was try and unravel his damn tongue. “Not really my thing,” he managed. Oh good. His ability to string a sentence together was coming back.

“Aw, you should. I bet you have a nice voice.”

He gave a dry laugh. “Yeah, no. More like a dying frog.”

She responded with a short giggle, the sound doing wonders to his anxiety.

With a smile he asked simply, “You?” But he didn’t need her to answer. He knew she had a good voice, as often as he’d make fun of her for sounding shrill.

She grinned, and he couldn’t tell if it made him feel more or less at ease. Just that he wanted the expression to stay pointed at his direction. “I’d like to sing, but not alone.”

“Gonna partner with Sango?”

“What about if I partner with you?” she suggested.

“Yeah, right.”

“Scared?”

He rolled his eyes. “As if.”

“Then you’ll duet with me?”

He wasn’t going to fall that easy. “I don’t think so.” She blinked her big eyes at him, pressing into his side and taking hold of his arm. “Please, Inuyasha?”

How? How did she have this effect on him? He knew it was just a power play. Like he’d cave in over nothing but the bat of her dark eyelashes, but damn if it wasn’t working. They’d been comfortable around each other since the near beginning, so it wasn’t like having her smooshed up against him was anything new. He had shaken her off a dozen times when he wasn’t in the mood for her antics. Never mind that he’d let her have her way a hundred times over. After a while it just felt like it natural.

But something was different lately. Something that felt deeper than their friendly dynamic. Something like crossing past the edge of what he’d grown comfortable with.

“We’ll see,” Inuyasha finally replied, his throat feeling awfully dry. Maybe a drink would do him some good after all.

She gave him this irksome look that was all cheeky, as if she’d won. He wanted to bring it up to argue, but settled for an annoyed glare as she snuggled right up against him with the song book. When’d it start feeling so right to be this cozy with a girl? Why the hell would someone like her even want to be close to him?

“I’ll pick us a good song, promise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled. For a second there, he had forgotten to be nervous with her next to him. They were comfortable around each other most of the time anyways. They’d spent hours together in the library, gone out to eat after class, sent each other their papers to peer review. In her research paper Kagome had done some deep digging into an old myth her grandfather used to tell her about the Shikon no Tama. She told him that she used to take the old man’s stories for granted, but now that he was getting on in his years, she’d genuinely grown interested in exchanging tales with him. She fell in love with history, particularly Japanese history. Anything that wasn’t math, she once joked.

He knew her pretty well, so it wasn’t like it was anything new to be around Kagome. They were friends, and he was fine with that. At least, he had been until Miroku started putting it in his head that he should make a move. He’d convinced himself that he didn’t feel that way, and that even if he did, which he didn’t, it’s not like Kagome felt that way. So they’d stay as they were, with Inuyasha having to try harder and harder to convince himself that nothing was going to happen between them.

Flash forward to two weeks before school let out. The class had been deep into research and the best way to write up a comparative report. Kagome and he had been spending a lot of time together going over the best structure for the papers, spending hours together in the library helping the other with gathering sources, keeping motivated, or generally studying in companionable silence. It became their routine, and suddenly they were together during almost every spare moment. With things wrapping up for the year, Inuyasha had felt like he’d been on a good pace to get all his work done before the deadline, so he hadn’t been stressed. When Kaede dismissed the class for general questions or review, he and Kagome had decided they could chat in the back and he could tease her about how relaxed he felt about the whole thing— a trait she begrudgingly admitted she admired. She was the type to cram and procrastinate, after all.

“So how much help are you going to need writing this paper and reviewing for your finals? Going to call me at 6 AM again for another last minute cram session?”

He remembered her pout in response. “Oh, haha. Just admit it helped you too.”

“Sure, Kagome. Let’s pretend like it was mutually beneficial. Any excuse to hang around me.”

The accusation was sent lightheartedly, and he had expected her retort to come swiftly after. It didn’t though.

Instead she shuffled in place, finally admitting, “It’ll be weird for classes to be over. Kind of got used to the schedule.”

Their schedule. Shared nights over the phone, hours hanging together for school or for study breaks. With school on holiday and no impending assignments, they really had no excuse to keep seeing each other. If he was going to spend time with her over winter, it would have to be just because he wanted to.

He’d felt like the walls were suddenly closing in on them.

When Kagome asked him if he had any plans for the holidays, something hard went up his throat. She’d basically opened up the doors for him to ask her out officially, and he’d choked and barely answered out with a, “No.” When he didn’t follow up with anything, she tried to let him know that she’d also be free and all he said was, “Okay.”

God, he’d never forget the look on her face. Her eyes dropped down in disappointment while her mouth registered the smallest frown. She had left class that night without much of a farewell, and he practically banged his head against his desk.

When Sango made the announcement that they’d throw a party after exams let out, there was no part of him that was in the mood to go. That was, until Kagome accepted the invitation and he saw his second chance.

He had to make his intentions clear, Miroku warned. If he went on like this, Kagome was sure to get asked out by someone else eventually— like that annoying Hojo guy who worked at the coffee shop.

So he went, and he bought her a gift, and who could blame him if he caved in and sang a song with her? Anything to keep that sad look off her face.

“Who’s song is this?” one of the girls called out.

“Oh! That’s us!” Kagome grabbed his hand and led him to a stand. “Let’s go!”

Inuyasha didn’t care much for singing, but he knew he’d exaggerated about his voice. It wasn’t the worst, but on a normal occasion he’d never sign up to get in front of his classmates to make a show of himself. Here he was though, all for her. Sap.

At least it helped that by the time it was their turn, most people were happily drunk and cheering them on. He ignored his whooping classmates, Miroku in particular, and stared at the screen following Kagome’s lead. He did have to hand it to her for picking a good song for them. He gripped the microphone and sang along with the words on the screen. Kagome practically sent stars shooting from her eyes to hear his voice, and he couldn’t help the smile from shaping his mouth as he let the lyrics flow. They worked together well. They synched. He knew they would.

By the time they finished, he felt flushed and maybe even a little confident. Kagome was still beaming at him, and that had to be a step towards the right mood.

“Dying frogs don’t sound half bad, huh?” she goaded when they got back to their seats.

“You weren’t bad yourself.”

“I didn’t know you sang.”

He shrugged. “I used to sing when I was little. My mother liked it.”

Kagome knew that his mother passed away when he was a kid, so the intimate detail wasn’t lost on her. “You should sing more. I’d like it, too.”

He blushed. “Yeah, well… there’s not a lot of times I go out to karaoke or anything.”

“Maybe we could try again next time?”

This was it. There could be a next time! He could invite her to a next time!

He felt his throat drying up. No! Not again! He was just using his fucking voice to sing! There was no way it was leaving him now!

“Kagome,” he choked out.

“Hn?”

“I uh,” he could feel his lungs shriveling up.

“Okay everyone!” A voice took over from the microphone and the lights went on. They turned in unison to see Sango announce, “I think it’s time for the gift exchange! I’ll pull a name out of the hat, and if you’re the Secret Santa, go give your gift to them. Sound good?”

He gave her a helpless look, but Kagome didn’t seem to understand.

Everyone shuffled around, and Sango began the activity. It wasn’t a surprise that she was so organized, having experience teaching kids at her family’s dojo. She had that kind of authority that no one questioned. As she unfolded slips of paper, the exchange went on smoothly, but Inuyasha’s heart wouldn’t stop hammering.

“Ayumi!”

He’d just been ready to ask Kagome out and went mute. Was he relieved or pissed for the interruption? On one hand, he was choking. On the other, maybe he could’ve done it if he had another minute. Now it was gift exchange time, and Miroku’s words were swirling in his mind.

“Hoshino!” They watched as she lifted the tissue paper from a light blue bag and took out a knitted teal scarf. She seemed grateful for it, exclaiming how cute it was.

Was giving a gift to a girl that big of a deal? No, it wasn’t. Not normally. But this was Kagome, for crying out loud.

“Inuyasha!”

His name. Oh shit. His name. In all his panic, he’d forgotten that he’d actually be receiving some random gift as well.

From his left, he felt Kagome shift.

“Inuyasha?”

He turned to her, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Yeah?” he stammered out.

“I’m your Secret Santa.”

From behind her, Miroku gave an enthusiastic thumbs up. Of course. This was a two-way set up. He wished he had it in him to send a death glare, but Kagome was pressing a package into his hands.

“Red’s your favorite color, right?”

“Right,” he said, staring at the neatly wrapped rectangle in his hand.

“You know you have to open it, right?” Sango voiced.

Broken from his daze, he quickly tore the paper off the box. He slid up the wooden front and revealed three miniature swords. One bore a striking resemblance to the one passed down over generations through his family.

“It’s a set of pens that are shaped into different katanas. You know, since your focus was on weaponry and all,” Kagome explained.

“Just like my research topic,” he marvelled. They were perfect. “These are cool.”

“Yeah, and you don’t have to complain about borrowing my girly ones now.”

He gave her a toothy grin. “I guess I don’t. Thanks for this.”

“You’re welcome.”

Sango took it as her cue to move on. “Okay, next up is…” she unfolded the paper “Miroku!”

One of the more inebriated guys of the class, Hachi, rose up and ambled his way over. “I thought this would be the perfect gift for you,” he said, dropping a dark blue bag into his hands.  He slung his arm over Miroku’s shoulder to watch him open it.

Everyone laughed when he pulled out a headband, complete with mistletoe dangling down from the front.

Miroku wheezed. “It’s perfect!”

“Have to admit, I was worried you might have come with your own tonight.”

He immediately adorned it on his head and took a step forward with open arms. “I’m going to have to try out my gift! Anyone willing to help?” He pivoted. “Sango?”

“In your dreams,” she announced into the microphone, causing everyone to laugh harder. “Next!” Sango announced, effectively cutting him off.

The exchange went on, with more highs and a few thoughtful moments. Inuyasha waited anxiously to hear Kagome’s name get called. She got him a thoughtful gift, and he was glad he got the chance to give her something in return. He was gladder that it wasn’t something dumb like a mistletoe headband, though he had to say he’d gotten a kick out of that. Kagome was in stitches over it, because anyone else probably would have gotten him the same thing, given the opportunity.

When Sango pulled out her own name, Miroku leapt up.

“You’re kidding,” she deadpanned into the microphone, making everyone laugh.

“He cheated for it!” A girl named Natsuna claimed.

“Anything for you!” Miroku exclaimed. “But today, just this for you,” he said less boldly, handing her a box.

“Do I even want to know?”

He shrugged.

Sango sighed, and put the microphone down to open his gift. When she lifted the lid of the square box, she slapped her hand to her head. “No way.”

“Is it underwear?” Natsuna yelled, representing the ideas of just about everyone else in the room.

“I wouldn’t do that!”

With a defeated sigh, Sango lifted up a tiny bouquet to show everyone.

It took a few seconds for the class to put it together. The round green leaves and white berries matched the ones hanging from Miroku’s ridiculous gag gift.

“It’s mistletoe again!” Someone screamed.

“Oh my god. Of course it is.” Inuyasha slapped his own face.

“I knew he’d come with his own!” Hachi’s voice bolstered through the room.

“This one’s made of wool. Headband or no headband, Christmas or no Christmas, I’ve got backup. Anytime you’re ready, you just hold that above your pretty face and I’ll come rushing in!” Miroku claimed.

“What happens if I put it over my fist? Wanna come running then?” she suggested with a smirk.

“Why Sango, I’d never miss the chance to kiss the back of your hand.” He winked, wiping the look right off her face.

“Enough of this,” she said, snatching the microphone back up and pulling the last name. It was obvious she was done having the attention. “Last but not least, Kagome!” Sango announced. “Who got Kagome?”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. As if they didn’t know. “I wonder,” he droned, turning to face the girl. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was at least a process of elimination. It was entirely possible that no one was keeping track though, since alcohol had made its way through just about everyone’s bloodstream by this point.

“You?” Kagome questioned with amused eyes.

“Who else?” He joked.

She responded with a shyer expression than he expected. “Yeah, who else?”

Looking at her big eyes again had him feel like jello. “R-right.” Great. His stutter was coming back. “Here.”

It didn’t take long for her to unwrap the small box, yet it felt like it was happening all too slowly. His heart hammered in his chest like rapid fire.

“We ended up having similar ideas,” he explained as she let out a small gasp.

“This is…”

“You said it resembled a pink pearl, right?”

She pulled out the necklace and stared at it in awe. “Just like my research topic,” she mimicked him saying earlier. “The Shikon no Tama.”

“Obviously not the real one.”

Just for a second they forgot about being in public, but reality came back to a crashing halt as the class started whooping around them, eager to get back on their high. “Damn Inuyasha, make the guys look bad!”

“That’s so sweet! I wish a guy got me something like that.”

Again, most of the room was hammered, but it did little to quell the embarrassment this time.

“Thanks,” Kagome managed, over the crowd.

He avoided her gaze, choosing to tack his gaze to the wall. “Welcome.”

With that, Sango declared the end of the game. The dim lights returned, and someone was already calling dibs on the next song. Everyone was returning back to their side conversations, but Inuyasha felt like all the unresolved tension from earlier hit him back like someone pressing unpause in a game.

“I think I’ll go to the bathroom and put this on there, where the light is better,” Kagome said to excuse herself.

Inuyasha blushed. “Oh. Sure.”

As he watched her disappear through the doors, he felt someone at his side. His instincts told him it had to be Miroku again. Obviously, he’d been right.

“A necklace, huh? Way to go there.”

“Mistletoe? Really?”

Again, Miroku shrugged. “Unlike you, I have a little more tact when giving personal gifts to women I like. That, and a grander scheme.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” he repeated.

“The gift exchange is over. What are you talking about?”

“You should probably make your move,” he ignored him. “Kagome seemed to like your present, so now’s the chance. Otherwise you’ll have to wait until we get back, and who knows what could happen between now and then?”

“I was getting to it,” Inuyasha ground out, annoyed.

“You were getting nowhere.”

“Quit watching us!”

“Then go someone else, loser.”

“Like where? To the other side of the room?” he suggested sarcastically.

“Like, I don’t know, the hallway she’s about to travel through?”

But that would mean now. He froze.

“Yeah, that’s roughly what I thought would happen. Oh well, no time like the present, right? Ready?”

Before he knew it, the door opened and Sango walked in with her hand lifted in a thumbs up. The next second, Inuyasha was shoved out and left in the hallway as the door slammed shut.

“What the hell?” He was ready to swing it back open, but then he heard a voice.

“Inuyasha?”

“Kagome!”

Voice. Clamming.

She walked up to him. “Is everything alright?”

Trapped!

“I. Yeah. Just, you know.”

She gave him a quizzical look. “You look feverish. You sure you’re okay?”

He nodded, but Kagome took it upon herself to put her hand against his forehead to check.

“Definitely running a little warm.” When she backed up, a light caught his eye and drew it to her neck. So she’d put it on after all, huh?

When she caught him staring, Kagome’s cheeks tinged pink. “Thanks again for this. It was really sweet, and it means a lot to me.”

Inuyasha gulped. ‘Now!’ his brain told him.

“Kagome?” he tried once more.

“Yeah?”

He took hold of her shoulders to ground himself. “Would. I mean. You?”

Again, he was faced with her confusion.

“Me?”

How? How was she so pretty? So breathtakingly wonderful?

“For fuck’s sake.”

“Inuyasha?” she asked gently.

“I can’t do this,” he sighed, looking down.

“Just talk to me.”

“Talking’s the problem!”

“Then just look up,” she suggested.

“No, see that’s the other problem. I can’t look at you.”

“Inuyasha.”

“No! Everytime I look at you I just end up all stupid.”

“I think I know what you’re trying to do. At least, I hope I do. It’s okay if you can’t come up with the right words. Just look up and do what feels right.”  

“Kagome,” he whined. “I have to do this to let you know what I feel. But--”

“No,” she replied firmly, cutting him off, “You have to listen to me. Look up!” She grabbed his face by both cheeks and pushed it upwards towards the ceiling. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he squinted to focus on a familiar green blob right above them.

“What the--? Is that… the mistletoe Miroku got Sango?”

She let go of his face and nodded.

“I like you, Inuyasha. I really, really like you. How do you feel about me? I’ll accept whatever you answer with.”

As he stared at her, once again he felt his tongue grow heavy. What was it, a disease? He replayed her voice in his mind. Just look up and do what feels right… I’ll accept whatever you answer with.  

He gave a quick glance back up at the mistletoe. Okay.

He should stop looking into her eyes, he decided, so he closed his.

And words just weren’t going to make it out of his mouth, so he decided to do something else with it instead and pressed it right up against Kagome’s lips. It was the best he could muster for a confession in that moment.

And he swore, the second she kissed him back, she took all the breath he had and made it all right again.  

[shinidamachu]

Holding On And Letting Go - Chapter IV

Summary: Chapter I | Chapter II | Chapter III | Chapter IV

Word Count: 2180  Genre: angst  Fandom: InuYasha  Pairing: Inukag Format: multichapter  AO3 Link: 🌹  Fanfic.Net Link: 🌹

“I’m the one to blame and I know it. That’s the worst part.” InuYasha confessed to the dorment well in one of those nights, when he missed Kagome so dearly it was downright suffocating.

He would never forget the moment when she first taught him about the universe — how it was infinite and always expanding. He still remembered how small and overwhelmed it made him feel. 

Even now, that the memory was old and dusty, InuYasha felt the same. Missing Kagome was just like the universe — infinite and always expanding — and he was only himself, powerless and infinitesimal when faced with the immensity of it all.

“I shoulda fought harder for you.” The claws piercing his palm compensated the lack of emotion on the statement. “Not just that last time...” He shook his head, his brain flooded with images of the time they were forced apart and how he had been unable to do anything besides watch it happen. “But before that too. I shoulda told ya how much you meant to me, even though you knew already. I shoulda kissed you each chance I got. I shoulda apologized more.”

A lump housed in his throat as he recounted their journey on his mind, making sure to linger on the mistakes he made with the rawness of salt thrown straight into an open wound. Every argument they ever had seemed so pointless now, and yet, what wouldn’t he give for one more quarrel, if only to hear her voice again?

“And I shouldn’t have let you go!” All at once, the all too familiar anger started bubbling in the depths of his stomach, surfacing through his intonation. “What the hell was I thinking? That just because I wasn’t a selfish asshole for once, everything would be just fine at the end? It ain’t how life works! You’d think someone like me woulda learned that by now.”

Sitting on the grass, InuYasha fought the urge to scream in frustration. It was all bullshit. All of it.

“Before you, I didn’t use to do the right thing and we both know it. So why the fuck should I keep doing it now? ‘S not like it would bring you back.”

Deep down, InuYasha knew the answer. In the end of the day, her happiness and well being were way more important than his self-centered desires, and ultimately, he would never jeopardize all the effort he had put into becoming the man she showed him he could be — a man deserving of her. It didn’t mean he couldn’t feel sorry for himself, just a little.

“They already had at least fifteen years of you in their lives, but we... We didn’t have enough time.”

Part of him argued that it would never be sufficient, no matter how many lifetimes they got bestowed with. The other part reminded him of all the times he had pushed her away.

InuYasha acknowledged his greediness right then. Kagome had already given him more than he ever dared to dream and admittedly more than he deserved. Most of his kind would die without knowing so much as the prospect of love, while he had experienced it in every shape. Because of Kagome, he had finally found a place where he belonged, with people who accepted him. That should have been more than enough.

And yet there he was, asking for more as if he was entitled to it, as if every good thing in his life wasn’t as bright as it could be if she was around.

What an ungrateful bastard he was.

“I need you more than they ever could, anyway.” InuYasha went on, wondering why is was so much easier admitting these things when there was no chance for her o listen. “If you ever come back, I’d do everything different. No more wasting time, no more acting stupid. I’d even tell you how much I love your food and the way you smell, ‘cause I do, I always did.”

He once believed that Kagome was born to meet him. Now it looked they were doomed from the start.

“Just come back and see.”

If the Honekui no Ido was a Wishing Well, her wish would be him.

She knew it was selfish, but it was true.

There was nothing she cared about more, nothing else she wanted so fiercely in her supposedly fulfilled life.

Day and night, she dreamed of better worlds, where they never had to be more than a heartbeat away from each other. If she could, she would change her own, just to fit him in it the same way his Fire-Rat robe used to fit around her shoulders — warm and familiar — and he would know he was safe and sound. She would rewrite each cosmical rule keeping them from being together, speak over the prejudiced voices whispering their bigotry at them, shield him from the hurtful things he pretended to be indifferent to even though it broke his heart. And they would get the happy ending they deserved.

“All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.” Kagome remembered that day, swallowed by the sands of time, when she sat in the very well she now leaned against, and faced with these same emotions, asked InuYasha to stay with him. It was the moment she realized no amount of nasty blows to her ego could make her walk away. Her happiness was tangled with his. “And I promised you I would always be by your side. I guess things never work the way we plan, but I want you to know I would have kept my word. I still intend to.”

Kagome deliberately looked at the pile of books beside her. Most of them turned out to be useless, brimming with inaccurate information. A couple of few managed to carried interesting material and maybe Kagome could even teach Kaede a thing or two if she ever accomplished her main goal, but the rest were not written to be taken serious at all.

The girl, however, was no fool. It was highly unlikely that the solution she was looking for would be laying in a long lost book, and that just like in the climax scene of a hollywoodian movie, she would decode its manuscript, unsealing the magical time portal, consequently, reaching the anticipated joyous outcome, white letters rolling up the screen and lights turning on to reveal a clapping audience.

But what could she do except keep trying? The alternatives were way too depressing and she had promised him. She owed him — owed both of them — that much, and it gave her a purpose. Doing something felt good, even if something meant a new burn to a cauterized heart. What was a little drop of frustration for someone drenched on its rain? What was a little wave of sorrow for someone drowning on its waters?

It was also a good distraction from math problems and her oblivious — despite of  well meaning — friends. She welcomed those distractions as much as the lamppost lights that guided her way home.

Truth was, too many new moons had passed and it wasn’t lost on Kagome that the separation would affect her and InuYasha differently. While he knew she was out of danger, secure with her family in pacific modern era Japan, that same courtesy was never offered to her.

Sure, Naraku was gone and InuYasha would always have Tessaiga, as well as their friends, to support and protect him. But he was still a cocky half demon with a remarkable talent to lost his temper and a pretty respectful list of enemies. Trouble would find him one way or another. 

Part of her wondered if it already did and, as much as it hurt to consider it, that was why he never met her after the five hundred years gap. But then again, it could also mean that he didn’t have to, because she found a way to get back on her own. 

Her attention went back to the open book on her lap.

“I just… I just need to see if you’re okay.” Pleaded Kagome, aware of her own lie the second it left her lips. Just a glimpse of him, brief and distant as it may, and she could never walk away.

The night came and went as she devoured the pages, in vain. Then daylight touched Earth, imposing and golden like his eyes.

The sky was so clear, not a single cloud dared to taint its dazzling blue. Around him, InuYasha could see all the summer colors, as bright as they were, from the floating orange of the butterflies to the endless rainbow of flowers gifted to them by a generous spring. Nearby, he could hear the birds singing their jubilant melodies and the village’s children playing under the sun.

It was a beautiful morning and he hated it.

A day like that without Kagome to enjoy it was such a waste. Everything about it seemed pointless — wrong, somehow — since she wasn’t there to see it.

Particularly, he had grown fond of the cloudy days. It was much easier to blend in. Everybody gets a little sad when it rains.

But InuYasha couldn’t control the weather and certainly he couldn’t extinguish the distance separating them either, as he had previously learned. All he could do was sit there and wait for her.

“And now the little brats are getting old enough to chase me around.” Continued InuYasha, on yet another detailed report Kagome would never hear. “‘S a nightmare, I’ll tell ya. Not even you or your mom were so obsessed with my ears and that’s sayin’ a lot.”

His heart clenched at the thought of the kind woman who had treated him like a son from the very start, but it didn’t last long, as he could practically hear Kagome’s giggles. He had no doubt she would find the whole situation insanely amusing, much to his pretended annoyance.

He didn’t even try to fight his smile.

“Can you believe it? Miroku and Sango have twins!” InuYasha exclaimed, because he sure as hell still couldn’t, no matter how many times the living proofs climbed over him, pulled his hair or pestered his poor ears. “I mean, ‘course you can. You saw it coming way before I did.”

Well, not even her wildest guess would have bet on twins right away, but the important thing was the monk and the slayer were really making marriage work. InuYasha would give anything to see her smug I-Told-You-So expression.

“They’re really happy.” And they had every reason to be. Against all odds, they were together, they had a family. After so much trauma, fights and goodbyes, they managed to stood side by side at the end. They had earned that. InuYasha knew it. And he wanted to be happy for them. He was happy for them. He just couldn’t shake the terrible feeling that would come along with every look, touch or gleeful moments shared between the couple: it should have been Kagome and I. 

Then guilt would hit him like a punch, making him avoid the pair for a while just to feel even worse. It was much harder to feel happy for someone else when his own happiness was in the other side of the well with her. 

“They miss you, though.”

“Congratulations!” Kagome walked in, dropping her purse to the base of the Honekui no Ido to grasp her hair in exasperation. “You have finally made Tokyo boring and I thought this was impossible!”

The schoolgirl spent the whole day out, passing by parks and stores that had been so fascinating to her in the past, but that now just couldn’t catch her eyes. 

Since she was a little child, she always felt her city like a living entity. Pulsating, stimulating, a surprise on every turn.

Then, years ago, she had fallen into that damned well and the conception of adventure that she once had changed forever.

In that new, exciting land, Kagome had been a fish out of temporal water, but then she decorated the tides and made them her habitat. Now that she was isolated from it, she missed it like crazy and the place she used to call home didn’t felt like home anymore.

She was a fish out of water again, but this time in her own town.

The city lights were as pretty as ever, but they could never match the starry night sky from Feudal Era and the more she walked through the comfortable pavement, the more she longed for the freshy grass. It was sickening and frightening.

For her family, Kagome desperately kept trying to make things go back to the way it was before — Studying, hanging out with her friends, helping in the shrine. She never told them it wasn’t working. There was no need to hurt them over nothing.

But she didn’t belong there. And she hadn’t for quite a while.

“What do I do?” She whispered.

A/N: one day I’ll write something that isn’t angst again... but today was not that day. Thank you for reading, tho. It means a lot to me. Oh, and let me know if you want to be tagged or something. See ya!

[shesdangerace]

I learned from my pain

Happy belated Valentine’s Day! Tumblr hates us all and might make this super hard to post here SO. I’m going to post as much of it as I can, and if you like it, you can check it out on AO3 (also linked at the end). I now present to you, a very Andrew Minyard Valentine’s Day. -

He remembers the colour of the sky outside the window.

He remembers the tree branch swaying in front of the glass.

He remembers the breeze that day.

He remembers the hands, the quiet, the pleading.

AJ’s first Valentine’s Day.

Andrew’s eyes feel heavy.

Allison gave Renee roses today, a question written out in cursive with a kiss on the end. Matt was talking about his plans in the locker room. Nicky has been beside himself thinking of Erik coming to visit.

Andrew is leaning outside of his open mesh-free window trying not to think. Cigarette burning down in his hand.

Andrew never got asked. Andrew never got elaborate plans. Andrew never got giddy anticipation. At least, not his own.

And now, he doesn’t want those things. Can’t want them. Doesn’t see a point in them.

It always came at a price, is the thing. And it was never enough.

Love meant crying without making a sound so she wouldn’t know. Love meant bleeding so his twin wouldn’t have to. Love meant throwing away the chance of it. Love meant cut brakes.

That was the love he was taught anyway, when his ‘family’ told them they loved him as they crept into his room at night, asking Do you love me? Do you love me?

Andrew was taught that love was cruelty. Pain. Bloodshed. A blind eye. Vengeance. Sacrifice. Loss. Responsibility. More bloodshed. He never knew what love was meant to feel like.

And now all Andrew knows how to feel is nothing.

There’s a knock on the door frame, firm and assured.

“Hey. Time for practice.”

Neil, standing there like a memory of a different life. Auburn and dressed all in grey.

The cigarette falls slowly from Andrews’ hand, swaying back and forth by the light February wind until it touches the ground of the car park below like a distant feather.

-

The cheerleaders are here. They’re being loud and it’s unnecessary.

Andrew doesn’t know why the cheerleaders are here. Honestly, it doesn’t matter. It matters that they are and that they’re being loud.

She’s here too, of course. She’s also a cheerleader after all. Not quite so loud though.

That may be because while Andrew is not looking at her, he’s looking at Aaron, and Aaron is looking at her. He’s willing to bet she’s looking back.

Aaron looks happy. Wistful. Awed almost. Where did he learn that? How did he manage to learn how to feel like that?

Andrew doesn’t look at him.

He hits balls and waves his heavyweight stick around for hours, while Kevin yells and Neil cusses out the baby Foxes and Nicky laughs like a demented hyena and Aaron feels all over the court floor.

Andrew doesn’t look at him.

And then Katelyn comes wafting over, blonde ponytail bouncing and hands wringing and smile matching the quiet one on Aaron’s face. A smile Andrew has no clue how to replicate on his own. And then she asks him, and he grins at her and says yes, obviously, and then she kisses him on the cheek and giggles and her ponytail bounces away.

Andrew tilts his head away and doesn’t look at him.

He looks at Neil. He doesn’t really have a choice.

He’s standing right in front of Andrews line of sight, close but not close enough to touch Andrew, smirk almost as sharp as his eyes. Batting his eyelashes like an idiot, hands wringing and toe nudging against the floor.

“Be my Valentine sugar plum?”

That cocky smile, that exaggerated posture, that orange bandana, that mess of hair, that shock of bright blue, that stupid, stupid idiot.

“Fuck off.”

Neil just laughs, that huff of gentle sound, and Andrew looks at him and can’t seem to stop. And Neil can’t seem to either, looking right back, smile just strong enough to bring out the subtle dimple on his right cheek.

How did he learn that?

How did he learn to dimple like that from bruises? How did he learn to look at Andrew like that from a lifetime of running? How did he learn to laugh for Andrew after knives and cleavers and flames and irons?

Andrew just looks at him.

Neils’ hands on his Exy stick are strong and unwavering and deliberate. Careful. Reverent.

Andrew just looks at him.

---

It’s two days before Valentine’s Day.

They’re at the coffee stand. The three of them have classes in 15 minutes but no one cares. Neil stands beside him, staring as disinterestedly as Andrew.

It’s pink. It’s stupid. There’s large lettering in altering colours of red, green, and yellow. There’s three black silhouettes like bathroom door signs. A red cross. A green heart. A yellow question mark. A lot of pink. It’s a poster.

It’s a traffic light party.

“Neil please, come on, it’s literally perfect and you’re the only one who can convince him.”

Andrew thinks about the colour red.

“No.”

It’s so vicious and ugly, so glaring, a screaming no that Andrew has had painted on his hands and his lips and his skin for years now.

“Neeeeil come on!”

Andrew has been red for a long time.

“Nicky, you have a long-term partner. Why would you need to go to this?”

Neil sounds tired. Neil is right to be.

“But Neil, that’s the point. Not only do I get to declare myself as taken, I get to show off my hot German husband.”

Red is not as simple as a t-shirt or a badge. It’s sticky and it festers and it stains like dye and you don’t get to change your mind once it’s on you.

“You know you haven’t even asked him to marry you yet right?”

Green is an unrealistic colour. It’s bright where red is dark, joyous like red is angry. A garish neon sign declaring yes. Yes, I’m here and I’m alive and I’m okay and I fucking want this.

Andrew doesn’t think he could ever be green having been red.

“Fuck you, Neil. It’s understood, it’s an inevitability, and the world needs to know!”

Green can start pure and be muddled and abused until it’s ugly and brown enough to be red anyway.

“The world does know. You’ve been talking about him non-stop for days. It’s annoying.”

There’s a coffee cup in his hands. When did that get there? Latte, caramel and vanilla. Neil’s name is written on it.

“Okay, can we please get back to the point? Which is the party? And that we should go?”

The sun is out today, and there’s no breeze. The skies are clear and still. Neil is walking beside Andrew, staring at him under his lashes every now and then as Nicky pleads his case. He’s walking close enough to Andrew that Andrew could touch him if he asked.

He’s wearing yellow. It’s a logo, on his grey hoodie. The drawstrings are yellow. Bright, like the sun. Hopeful.

After a while, after Baltimore and Riko and several screaming panic attacks in department store changing rooms with Allison’s guilty voice over the phone, Neil started to touch colour. Gentle prods, careful explorations.

He has an emerald green shirt now. Long sleeves. He has several Fox-orange articles of clothing that he wears in the dorm, the house, or with Andrew around campus. He has accents of colours on his shirts or his hoodie or his hat in the winter.

He has no blue brighter than navy. He has no red either.

Today, he is quietly yellow. Sipping his black coffee with one sugar and studiously ignoring Nicky in favour of watching Andrew ignore Nicky.

When Andrew asks and Neil says yes, in an alcove five minutes late to class, his fingers wind their way into those sunshine yellow drawstrings. He swears it stains his fingertips just a little.

-

Nicky is singing. A little bit drunk, a lot off key. It’s pop music and it’s incessantly loud. He got a phone call half an hour before. He did not take it well.

Erik has to stay in Germany for another day. A despondent Nicky had explained to them, and Kevin, that this means he’ll be flying in on Valentine’s Day instead of tomorrow, and this means that he’ll miss most of their first Valentine’s Day together in forever and Kevin would you please pay attention?

“Fuck men, seriously, Ari is so right you know? She just fucking gets it like, she understands and you know what I mean right Neil? Back me up Neil.”

Neil is in no condition to be anyone’s back up. He’s wrapped up in the embrace of the beanbag chair next to Andrew’s and he’s exasperated and exhausted. Nightmares. Not Andrew’s this time. The yellow was a particularly bold a choice today. But Neil is smirking in amusement all the same.

“Thank you, more like no thank you sir- “

In the corner, Matt is trying to film discreetly. On the couch, Kevin is paying absolutely no attention, waiting for his phone to ring.

As Nicky dances to the same song over and over, and Kevin bolts out of the room to answer Thea’s call, and Matt fails at discretion, and Neil radiates sleepy warmth next to Andrew like a furnace, Nicky bleeds.

He’s haemorrhaging love, the good and the bad and the ugly need of it. With the clarity of experience and many Wednesday sessions Andrew can see it. He can see the dark edges of Nicky, the sadness underneath his exuberance, his pain. He sees Nicky’s own sharp memories poking out from beneath his grin.

When he looks back at Neil, he sees the same understanding in those perceptive blue eyes.

It’s not about some pointless day in February. It’s about months without him. It’s about not knowing love without pain before him. It’s about conditions and fear and confusion and self-loathing and conversion. It’s about finally getting to hold someone’s hand knowing that he’s safe.

“I’m just saying I’m a fucking catch and I don’t deserve this, and you know what?”

Nicky stops here, stares at Neil balefully, then at Andrew, then back to Neil, gesturing with his whole body for the peanut gallery to speak.

Neil sighs and gives in.

“What Nicky?”

“I’ll tell you what Neil! I’m so fucking ungrateful for this treatment! That’s what.”

He trips.

And then, from his pile of slumped limbs and tired bones, Neil laughs. A true sound, a warm rich low sound.

Something in Andrew stutters for a moment. And then Nicky is throwing himself at Neil.

Nicky with his explosive love. Neil gifting his affection in laughs and smiles where there used to be none. Kevin breaking his single-minded devotion at the drop of a hat when Thea calls. Matt texting all the videos to Dan no doubt. All of them, loving each other out loud.

Andrew closes his eyes.

Nicky haemorrhages for hours.

---

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day. They’re at the traffic light party.

Nicky is bright red in the face from dancing, bright red in the face from alcohol, bright red in his shirt. He’s smiling almost as wide as he was when Andrew loomed over him in the locker room and said they were going.

Neil is wearing a black and neon-orange hoodie because he lives to be contrary and confusing. Andrew is wearing black because so does he.

The music is loud enough that Andrew almost can’t hear his thoughts. Almost. But of course, Andrew could never be so lucky, nor could Neil be so merciful.

The lights of the club are passing over his face like real traffic lights, sharpening and softening his face and colouring his eyes different shades. They could almost be in the Maserati, driving a touch too fast, Neil looking out of the passenger window, lounging like he belongs, smiling softly at Andrew’s reflection under the cover of night.

But they’re not. Neil is standing there like a living, breathing fuck you, glaring down anyone who gets too close, staring blankly at those who mistake his orange for yellow and then laughing to himself when they scuttle away. He looks gloriously alive, and completely unreal.

They’ve lost Nicky.

Neil looks at Andrew, really looks at him. Face like a storm.

The music gets improbably louder. Bass heavy. Rumbling. Growling.

Neils eyes get impossibly darker, his face impossibly sharper, his presence impossibly brighter.

He raises his eyebrow at Andrew.

Are you red or yellow or green?

Andrew steps closer and hooks his fingers into Neil’s collar.

Neil takes him by the edge of his black denim jacket, turns away, and Andrew follows the glowing shape of him through the thick crowd of sweat and mistakes.

By the time they reach the wall in the corner Andrew’s vision is all traffic lights and neon and storms.

Neil leans his head back against the wall, the bass louder still. He smirks at Andrew, but his eyes betray him and it becomes a smile. Warm and mischievous and foolhardy. He tilts his chin up at Andrew.

“So does black mean you’re taken?”

Andrew doesn’t dignify this with a response, just breathes.

“Should I take that as a yes or a no?”

Aside from the sharp roll of his eyes, Andrew doesn’t respond to this either.

“Andrew. Yes or no?”

Neil isn’t joking anymore. His eyes are softer than they have any right to be in lighting this sharp and dangerous. He’s searching, he’s already accepted Andrew’s answer.

The growling, rumbling bass around them is eclipsed by Andrew’s own growling yes, Neil’s lips brushing his like a promise. Neil kisses him like he’s desperate, not for his own sake but for Andrew’s. Like he’s been waiting. Like he just wants Andrew to know that Neil is there. Like he just wants Andrew. Whatever that means at any given time.

Right now Andrew doesn’t know what it means.

Neil tastes like midnight. And that makes no sense and it’s fucking stupid.

The lights are still flashing but the bass is different when Neil leans his head back against the wall. For some reason Andrew follows, can’t seem not to, rests his forehead against Neil’s. He doesn’t say anything for a minute, and neither does Andrew.

And then.

“Andrew, can I hold your hand?”

It’s a wonder Andrew hears him over the sound of this stupid party. Andrew says yes because honestly, he’s mildly curious to know what happens next.

Neil’s hand is warm. Firm. Scarred and unafraid and gentle and soft and calloused and it holds Andrew’s so tenderly. Like a rose and not a thorn.

Andrew doesn’t understand it and doesn’t understand why he doesn’t understand it because it shouldn’t be complicated. He doesn’t understand how Neil can look at him and feel. Because he so clearly does and Andrew can’t seem to hide from it.

Are you red or yellow or green or –

“Fuck, there you guys are! Come dance with me!”

And Nicky grabs Neil’s hand and pulls and Neil, as sharp and observant and devoted to his Foxes as he is, would never say no.

---

Andrew wakes up slowly and way too late in the day, to see Neil still asleep. His face is half crushed into his pillow, eyebrows relaxed, hair skewed in every direction like hellfire. His mouth is soft in sleep, his cheeks flushed with warmth.

There’s something so different about Neil when he sleeps.

When he’s awake, Neil is all winter stillness, observant and contrary and dramatic. Ferocious and disinterested and loyal. Loose and honest when Andrew kisses him. Defiantly, viscerally alive.

When he sleeps he is just as still, but unguarded and vulnerable. Almost awake almost always. Soft and quiet, warm like a summer morning.

The February sun is streaming in through the dorm room window, and the sky is clear and crystal blue.

Nicky is beside himself with excitement outside the dorm room somewhere. Eriks’ flight lands that afternoon.

Because it’s Valentine’s Day.

It’s also a Saturday and that’s much more meaningful to Andrew. It means he’s not missing anything Kevin can annoy him for.

Eventually, Neil’s eyes open, and he sniffles at Andrew like a kitten.

It’s so rare to see Neil so taken with sleep. Andrew doesn’t often see this, Neil all strung out on the feeling of being only half awake, soft and malleable like taffy.

Andrew sighs and asks quietly:

“No nightmares?”

And Neil smiles, and that dimple is back on his right cheek. Such a rare sight indeed in February. And to have seen it twice already is almost hard to believe.

“No nightmares.”

Andrew nods.

Neil edges closer, just the tiniest bit. He’s almost nose to nose with Andrew, and Andrew is almost there. He’s on the precipice of something.

One of the worst things about being Andrew Minyard is that apathy makes feeling almost painful and hard to ignore. Andrew has no choice; he can’t lie and he can’t hide and he can’t run and for some god forsaken reason he doesn’t particularly feel the need to.

He gives, and lets himself feel the warmth of Neil. He whispers his name in the scarce air between them, and kisses him. Soft. Unyielding. Bee would be so proud if he would ever tell her.

Neil whispers right back. Kisses right back. Runs his fingertips between Andrew’s on the sheets without touching them. Andrew nods his answer and he feels Neil all around him like the winter sun. Sharp and painful and bright and vital.

Neil is awake, and so is Andrew.

---

At sunset, everything in the Maserati is cast in purple and blue and pink. Neil is lounging like he belongs, smiling at Andrew’s reflection in the glass of the passenger seat window. He looks dreamlike, like he’s feeling that feeling Andrew can’t name.

He turns to Andrew and asks. Andrew says yes and then Neil is holding his hand. He grins at Andrew and for fucks sake. How can he look at Andrew with that much feeling? Who was it that taught him how to feel it at all?

The sounds of the road echo in Andrews ears, the sounds of Nicky’s happy crying from a couple hours earlier in Erik’s arms, Neil’s laugh, his cutting remarks, his questions. Neil’s lips brush Andrew’s hands like a prayer and it’s possible somehow.

Somehow, despite all reasoning and logical experience, it’s possible that Andrew is capable of more than nothing.

When he tells Neil this, laying in the grass off the highway in the last rays of purple light, the look in his eyes and the depth of his kiss are evidence enough.

ao3

[silly-anshe]

I’m coming for the Salt Throne™, so watch out.

I’m sorry but I’m afraid I must interrupt my joyous broadcast of Stark goodness brought by the last teaser because I have encountered this on the sansa tag.

 At first I wasn’t going to engage, because I was really fucking happy about the teaser. But then I thought, you know what, fuck it, some people need to know some facts and I’m gonna give it to them. Also, I stayed up till 4 am writing this shit but tumblr wouldn’t let me queue it, so now I’m writing it all over again. Second also, this person has been commenting on my posts that I clearly tagged “Sansa Stark” and “anti targ restoration”, so they’re stalking the tags, and since they’re doing that, there’s a high chance they’ll read this.

So let’s start, shall we?

First things first

Imagine being this pressed. At this point, you’re just grasping at straws, my friend.

I’m going to go point by point, since this person took the time to do the same about an anti sansa stark post but posted it on the sansa stark stark nonetheless

Point number 1: comparison with Jaime

I’ll give you that this parallel works, given that both characters start the series at a very good point: Jaime is a Kingsguard and Sansa has just gotten betrothed to the Crown Prince. But let’s examine their journey since then. Jaime ends up season one as a war prisoner of Robb Stark, the Young Wolf and King in the North after Robb won in battle, while Sansa ends up being a political hostage in King’s Landing after watching her father die. It doesn’t get any better for any of them, Jaime, in a secret exchange with Cat, promises to deliver Sansa and Arya, so then it begins his adventures with Brienne in the Riverlands, while Sansa is humiliated and assaulted in front of court. Then, while he got out of the Starks cells and thinking he could make his way to King’s Landing all on his own, Jaime loses his right hand and that’s a low point for him, actually, that’s his lowest point. Meanwhile, Sansa finds confort in the arrival of the Tyrells and her betrothal to Joffrey is put aside in favor of Margeary and there are even hints of a new betrothal between her and Loras, it’s starting to look good for Sansa, until Tywin puts a halt to those plans and brokers the marriage between Tyrion and Sansa: now she’s married to the enemy, the enemy that would ultimately kill his brother and mother. If it were possible, it gets worse for both of them: just as he arrives to King’s Landing, Jaime bears witness to the murder of his son on his wedding day, something Cersei was quick to blame Sansa for. So now, Sansa is a presumed kingslayer and a fugitive. Jaime, now changed by his experiences, tasks Brienne with finding both Stark girls, to keep his promise to Catelyn Stark. Season one Jaime wouldn’t have done that, just saying. Sansa escapes to the Vale under the “protection” of Littlefinger. There she realizes the want for home, for Winterfell, the place she wanted to leave as a teenager. Now she realizes the value of home. Both have to fulfull the role of head of the family: Jaime when Tywin is murdered by Tyrion and Sansa after Robb’s death. They are both tasked with the reconstruction of their houses: Jaime in a military way, Sansa in a political way. As Tommen ascends to the Throne, Jaime has to demonstrate that the Lannisters still are a force to be reckon with, even without Tywin. Sansa comes back to Winterfell to marry Ramsay, to reconnect with the North and its people and to find a way to avenge her family. By the end of season six, they both fully embraced their roots: Jaime is a Lannister and Sansa is a Stark. And we see that in season seven. Jaime is loyal to his House and Cersei till the end of the season and Sansa will defend the best interests of her people. It took them a lot to get where they are now, but that’s what happens with characters like them. They are perceived as perfect by everyone around them, but they have their insecurities and they go through a number of trials and tribulations before they evolve and become better than they were.

Point number two: Cersei vs. Sansa. Two (very) different people

Cersei is very much her father’s daughter, capable of lying and manipulation. This is pointed out throughout the seasons, by various characters, and is the biggest compliment you could pay Cersei. She always believed to be the best bet to take House Lannister to new heights, but always overlooked by her father, in favor of her brothers.

 Now, the scroll Sansa was forced to write. I’m going to repeat that. Sansa was forced to write that scroll to his brother. She was forced to do it by Cersei because she truly believed it would save her father’s life. You also wildly misinterpreted Maester Luwin’s response (what a shocker):

 Robb: Treason? Sansa wrote this?  Maester Luwin: It is your sister’s hand, but the Queen’s words

 It’s after this exchange that Robb decides to call his banners and declares himself to be in open rebellion to the Crown, until they release his father and sisters.

 But let’s go back to Luwin’s line for a bit. You’d know, especially if you read A Game of Thrones, that Sansa doubted in this moment. She had doubts about writing that letter. But she did it anyway. Why? Because she thought Cersei was good and someone worthy of trust. She really thought she was doing the best she could in saving her father’s life. Like worst case scenario, he’d be sent to the Wall, but he’d be alive. Also, let’s not forget she was thirteen years old.

Point number three: Sansa and her love of stories and the disregard for femininity 

Sansa is an idealist. She loves tales of knightly valor and romance, the story of Jonquil and Florian the Fool being her favorite. She appreciates and favors all that is femenine: she sings, she draws, she embroiders, she plays intruments. She’s a lady through and through. And there’s nothing wrong with that. That’s the way she was brought up. Being the Warden of the North’s eldest daughter, both of her parents knew she would have to marry someone important, not some minor lord. And with those prospects, she would be educated to be a proper lady.

I won’t get into Arya’s line since this post is getting long enough, but it shows how the show itself views women with femenine traits as inferior to women with more masculine traits. After all, we all know the GA, at that point prefered the likes of Arya and D@ny to the likes of Sansa and Catelyn.

When Sansa says she’s a stupid girl with stupid dreams who never learns, she’s chastising herself. She came to the capital a girl full of dreams and hopes, only to find people that would lie, use and abuse her, while she had to remain the perfect little lady if she didn’t want another beating. She’s chastising herself for having dreams, something every thirteen-year-old should have, but in her case, she’s been stripped from them. And she blames herself for that, when in reality, it isn’t her fault. It’s the fault of the adults that use her as a pawn to their games as she were a thing. 

So no, Sansa isn’t stupid and she certainly isn’t like most girls. She learned to navigate the turbid waters of court in order to stay alive. She never gave up hope or sacrificed her kindness.

1 extra point for trying, tho

Point number four: The moon door and Lysa Arryn

Tyrion’s experience with the Moon Door was under a sham trial for the attempted hit on Bran, which means it was public. We know from season seven that it was Littlefinger who orchestrated the assesination, in hopes to frame the Lannisters and thus creating more friction between the two houses and drive away any suspicion anyone could have that Lysa and Baelish killed Jon Arryn.

Sansa’s experience with the Moon Door was private, it was just her Lysa, and then Littlefinger. Lysa was growing paranoid of Sansa, she accused her of sleeping with Littlefinger (in which she wasn’t entirely wrong: Littlefinger was grooming Sansa and kissing her without her consent). Let’s not forget that Lysa has been in love with him since he was fostered at Riverrun. At this point, Littlefinger had married Lysa; she thought it was out of love, but he did it to secure power in the Vale. Ultimately Littlefinger interferes, getting Lysa away from Sansa, and then he threw his wife through the Moon Door proclaiming he only loved one: her sister.

So again, two very different situations. But I’ll give you points for trying hard.

Point number five: Cersei vs. Sansa part deux. Sansa and Cersei are not parallels, they are foils

It doesn’t take a genius to understand that those two lines are there to illustrate how different they are. Sansa can’t sleep, worried and tormented by the loved ones she cannot safe. There’s not a single thing in her manner or face that shows any trace of vengance, just sadness and grief. The only time we get to see Sansa get revenge is when she killed Ramsay. That was personal. She endured months and months of abuse at the hands of that monster. He killed her little brother. His family took part in the Red Wedding, killing many on the Stark men and bannermen, his brother, his sister-in-law and their unborn child and her mother. He was hers to kill. It was in name of all of those he hurt and killed. Cersei, on the other hand, is completely consumed by vengance. Her line demonstrates that she won’t rest until she had killed everyone that wronged her and her family. She’s been asking for Sansa ever since she fled King’s Landing, she tried to hunt down her own brother (not that she had much love for him, but still), she blew up a whole part of the city just to get rid of her political enemies. She drank wine and smirked while that happened. She killed a young woman in front of her mother, and had her watch as her daughter died. She had the septa from the walk of shame tortured and abused by the Mountain repeatedly. There’s a level of darkness in her actions, a level of monstrosity that rival that of her son’s. 

Again, extra points for trying reaaally hard

Point number six: Cersei vs. Sansa part tres (since you insist on drawing parallels between the two when actually they’re foils, but whatever). The matches that never came to happen: Cersei & Rhaegar / Sansa & Joffrey

When Tywin was Aerys’ Hand, he promised Cersei that one day, she would marry Rhaegar and be Queen. We know from the flashback scene with young Cersei and Maggy the Frog, that she wanted to be Queen. She wanted the power the crown brought, something she undoubtedly learned from her father. Unlike Cersei, Sansa wanted to be Queen, yes, but it was all a childhood dream. It was her love for songs and stories that led her to believe that fair Queens ruled the Kingdoms and were loved by the people. She never wanted power, she never even grasped at the real implications of wearing a crown after her father died. She learnt the hard way that Queens weren’t fair and loved, that they could be fearsome and cunning.  There’s actually someone more fitting for the parallel you’re trying to draw between Cersei and Sansa:

Both Cersei and Margaery want to be Queen for the power the Crown brings: it’s a way to give power to their House, it’s a way they can influence and shape the country in the way they want (though Margaery was more graceful and a better Queen that Cersei could ever be).

Since this got a little long, I’ll leave you with this book quote that finishes to paint Cersei and Sansa as foils:

Cersei:  “The only way to keep your people loyal is to make certain they fear you more than they do the enemy.” Sansa:  “I will remember, Your Grace," said Sansa, though she had always heard that love was a surer route to the people's loyalty than fear. If I am ever a queen, I'll make them love me.”

And yes, Sansa is a Direwolf that grew up between Lions. But that doesn’t mean she grew up to become one. She grew up and survived them. I’ll leave another quote from ACOK, after Sansa is humiliated at the hands of Joffrey and his Kingsguards:

Sansa: “I am loyal to my beloved Joffrey.” Tyrion: “No doubt. As loyal as a deer surrounded by wolves.” Sansa: “Lions, she whispered without thinking.”

[paladinscleric]

christmas + pining + byeler

i asked mishi @biwheelers for a prompt idea and she suggested this:  ok how about mike keeps staring at will while will is doing stuff bc he's just so Taken by how... happy he looks (or cute he looks but he won't admit it to himself) and someone calls him out on it in front of Will and mike dies?

“So pretty!” El comments on the cookie snowman that Will just decorated with beautiful swirls of colour.

Will looks up and smiles at her, “Thanks, El! Yours looks awesome, too!”

El gives a pleased nod and drops another dot of green onto the star-shaped cookie in front of her.

They are in the Byers’ kitchen. Mike, Will, El and Max. The latter is blowing big bubbles of chewing gum every other minute while watching the others work on the cookies. She already made the dough earlier -

“Seriously, guys? None of you have ever made cookie dough before? Not judging you, El. You didn’t really have the chance to and I bet Hopper is hopeless with these things. But boys, honestly?”

Max raising her eyebrows was always scarily intimidating and Mike and Will just looked at each other sheepishly, a blush creeping up their cheeks. They heard a loud sigh and looked over at Max just in time to see her rolling her eyes before walking to the fridge to grab the butter, throwing a “Can you grab a mixing bowl for me, please?” to Will over her shoulder. -

So now she’s watching the other three work, Mike using the different cookie cutters they found in a kitchen drawer and Will and El decorating the various shapes.

The radio is playing Christmas songs in the background and when the next song comes on, Will starts to sway side to side to the beat, his shoulder knocking softly into Mike’s whenever he leans to his left.

“Have a holly jolly Christmas, it’s the best time of the year - “, Will sings along quietly and Mike snaps his head up, the hand holding the cookie cutter frozen just above the rolled out dough.  

Will continues his singing, a huge smile on his face but stops his swaying to carefully paint small red stars on a bell-shaped cookie.

His voice is soft and sweet, wrapping around Mike’s heart like a warm, comforting blanket. It’s as if Will’s smile literally lifts up the end of every sentence, his happiness filling the room. Mike can’t stop staring...

Will’s eyes sparkling with joy and excitement - Christmas has always been his favourite holiday - his hair covering most of the rosiness on his cheeks, flushed because of the warmth of the kitchen. His hands, steady and careful, drawing beautiful patterns on snowmen, bells and hearts. Always unique, no cookie looks the same. His mouth, forming the words to the cheesy song, lips still curving up in the corners with the hint of a smile and looking so so soft.

Mike’s heart feels full to bursting. He loves his best friend so much. He can’t remember the last time he saw him looking so relaxed and joyous. Seeing him with his shoulders not being pulled down by the weight of all that has happened to him is probably the best thing that Mike has -

“Oh my God, Wheeler. This is getting ridiculous!” Mike startles and turns his head to Max whose face is scrunched up into a theatrical expression of suffering and anguish.

“What?” he asks, still a bit confused due to his thoughts being so abruptly interrupted.

Okay, so he might have been staring at Will a bit too long. But who could blame him? After all the pain Will had to endure and all the hours and days Mike worried about him, angry at himself for not being able to help more, it’s still breathtaking to see him so happy. So honestly, Mike can’t be blamed for stopping his cookie cutting for a few minutes if it means soaking up his best friend’s radiating joy and reassuring himself that he is okay, has been safe for over a year, now. And really, it’s not like they are in a rush, they’ve got the whole afternoon to finish the cookies, so Max should -

“Please do us all a favour, Mike! Stop your pining and finally do something about it!”

- wait what? “P-pining?” he sputters. “What are you even talking about? I’m not pining! I was just looking at Will because he - oh.” Mike feels his cheeks heat up, his blush spreading out, even his ears are burning. Oh.

Is he… is he pining for Will? That would mean he has a crush on him! But that can’t be…  he’s his best friend! He’s just glad to see him happy! So what if he looks at him longer and more often than at his other friends? So what if he is deeply invested in keeping him safe and making sure he feels loved and respected? So what if his heart sometimes skips a beat when Will smiles at him? That’s just - okay, no, maybe he does have a crush on him. Oh boy. Oh shit. His hands suddenly start feeling really clammy, his heart is speeding up, he’s pretty sure the panic is clear in his eyes as he snaps his gaze back and forth from Will - blushing, looking confused with a small frown between his eyebrows - to Max - regarding him incredulously. “Told you he was oblivious.” El says cheerfully.

Mike looks at her and she tells him softly, “Sometimes you are a bit stupid, “ and winks at him cheekily. He is just about to protest when Max stands up and declares “Okay, so here’s the deal. El and I will go to Will’s room for about half an hour while you two figure your shit out. Got it?” 

The boys just nod weakly and she rolls her eyes again - she loves to do that. Especially when it’s directed at the boys. “Seriously. Your mutual obliviousness astonishes me. You’re perfect for each other,” she grabs El’s hand and they walk towards the hallway together.

Mike thinks his face can’t possibly get any redder than this. Before exiting the kitchen, El looks back at him and grins, “Go get your boy, Mikey”.

He was wrong. He can get redder, his face and ears are burning. And when he looks over at Will, his best friend looking at him with something akin to wonderment, he’s pretty sure his flush is spreading down his neck, as well. He is going to die.

[davyruiz]

Effulgent Creatures

I stood with my back against the wooden cutout of our alien mascot and I could hear the distant traveler taunt me over the sounds of lost souls shuffling through the arena. There was a part of me that knew the laser-tag armor was just plastic but I didn't care. What was real anymore? Everything began to suck the moment that band and its singer came to town.

Me and QT worked at Retro Cosmos Fun Zone, a large laser-tag and indoor mini golf place for kids and adults. We mostly host parties and rarely is the place empty. For the tiny town of Cardinal Creek, it was the only other hangout aside from the mall. Otherwise you would have to travel out of town to find entertainment. I moved to the mountain town when I was 16 and I never looked back.

QT was a manager and I ran security. Even for a glorified space play place, you could never be too safe. We used to have animatronics but after too many incidents and vomit clean ups, we removed them. Now the stage hosts live entertainment. That's where we saw them perform. Effulgent Creatures. They were a flashy retrowave band that was asked to perform for a graduation party. I don't know if it was the alcohol or their music but something made that group intoxicated and crazed.

QT was enamored. He loved the new sound and the saxophone was enchanting. The lead singer was called Medusa and they sang like an otherworldly being. I too enjoyed the show but something felt off. We were told to host the party after close which was not too bizarre but I was told the band requested it. They didn't want to perform for anyone other than the party goers and workers.

It was played off as normal and explained away as not wanting to perform for free for others. QT bought it but I was not convinced. Medusa was so alluring and the music had a way of making you feel transported. I know we worked in an 80s style entertainment place but it suddenly felt like we were back in that time. It truly felt like we were transported to another place entirely.

Our cute alien Gigi Blu and their human comrade Ultra Spark fit right in and suddenly the place felt alive with new energy. Just as quickly as things changed, they changed once again. It did not feel so welcoming. The music played and I suddenly felt drained. I looked around at the crowded party room and everyone looked withered. Smiling and joyous but dried like corpses. I turned to Quinlan and they began to change.

I pulled them from the room but just as we made it towards the doors, QT was grabbed. The crowd turned on us and took Quin away. They knew I couldn't leave. I tried to call for help but nothing worked, not even slamming the locked doors to make noise. Like I said, it was like we were in a different place and time. No longer in Cardinal Creek.

At first the party goers kind of mumbled about. The Effulgent Creatures slowly took control. Medusa gave commands over the loudspeaker, taunting me as I snuck to the security office. I could hear Quin in the background. Met him the day I moved into town and I couldn't think of leaving them behind. Not in that moment and any moment after. I had to try and save him.

After I suited up with the vibrant green and gray armor, I grabbed some mace and my nightstick. I did not know what was waiting for me outside my security office. I would have grabbed more mace if I knew. The creatures lured me to the Meteor Tunnels, the place that connected the lazer-tag arena and neon golf course through colorful plastic tubes.

High above the entire entertainment zone, I searched for QT. The bubbles on the tubes let me see out over the different arena spaces and odd golf obstructions. I could also see the party goers shift and rock like living mannequins. After taking out a few of the aggressive partiers, I searched the thirteen hole golf course first.

I only found Gorgon the drummer and Minotaur the bassist. It was clear I was not going back out the way I had entered. I was stuck between the two massive musicians who wore bizarre garb. Neon and sparkly, like something out of a retro music video. I tried to run but Gorgon grabbed me. It was the first two punches that really got me.

They fought me and tossed me around like a beloved chew toy. Both remarked they wanted to keep me alive for Medusa as they launched me into the plaster castles and thin wood characters. A crashed ship was the final hole and Gorgon flipped me over the silver spacecraft. They laughed.

The cute little puppet that we stuffed into the driver seat sat looking at me and things began to blur. I remember grabbing the pieces of the spacecraft and going for the Gorgon first. My anger had filled my head and the blood fucked with my sight. It was all red and bright lights.

Soon the fight was over and the two lay together as I continued to look for QT. It was like Medusa kept moving every time I got close. I went to search the laser-tag arena. All the while different party goers kept coming at me. Trying to capture me or stop my progress. It was like they could not die. I feared Gorgon and Minotaur would be back for me.

That was when I saw Cyclops. They were in the main office and could see the entire complex from there. I knew of the secret halls used for emergencies and quickly ended their never ending gaze. This angered Medusa and they finally exposed their hiding place.

In the center of the laser-tag arena was QT and Medusa. I had to fight off more party goers as I navigated through the fake moon surface. The mace was depleted by then but I noticed the purple laser-gun stunned the lost ones long enough for me to knock them out with my nightstick. I began to play the worst game of laser-tag you could imagine.

I was almost near the singer from another space when they called a swarm of partiers to protect them. There were too many to fight off so I had to make a plan quick. The odds were stacked against me for sure but all I could think of was the years I had spent with QT.

We got the jobs around the same time and felt like it was bizarre. The first year in town and I kept running into him. Then we got hired at the same place and over the seven years went from cashiers and ticket counter to helping run the place. It was a great time in my life and I didn't want it to end. Not like that.

Looking at the four eyed alien Gigi, it hit me. I began to sing. Everyone including Medusa stopped to look towards where I was hiding. I kept singing. All those moments in that play place swept through my head. I could hear both of us singing as we walked hundreds of cakes to different party goers.

Retro Cosmos Fun Zone had a stupid birthday song we sang for every kid party and I sang it loud. Medusa was confused and so were the consumed. I was afraid but I kept singing and suddenly Quin Thomas began to look like themselves.

Whatever spell Medusa had on him under was no longer working and he knocked Medusa into the crowd of party goers. They turned on their master without question. QT jumped from the giant foam comet and into my arms. I pulled them through the crowd so fast I did not see what became of Medusa.

Once we got to the doors they suddenly flew open. We stepped out into the night sky and the full moon shone above us. QT kissed me and I kissed them back. We called the police right away but they never found the party goers or the band.

There was a mess left for us to clean and many questions to answer but in the end, only me and QT knew what happened. The party members stayed missing and there were no records of a band called Effulgent Creatures. Cardinal Creek slowly fell back to another quiet town in the mountains.

QT and myself decided to leave shortly after. We tried to forget about what happened but we couldn't. After a year of planning, we began to travel. We searched for months for any clues or remnants of the band from another space and time. Our quest has brought us to Chicago.

We don't know if this up and coming band is the same from before. Both of us are willing to bet our lives to find out. QT and I managed to sneak our way into the first performance of Nowhere Out. I will never forget how Medusa sang or how that band made me feel. Tomorrow will hopefully be the end of it all.