#I swear I will finish that lyric comic eventually

[madbard]

Because I must linger on every tragedy I encounter in media, I was thinking about what Chara and Asriel’s lives would have been like if they had lived.

Maybe they never came up with the buttercup plot, maybe someone figured out what was happening in time and stopped them - whatever changed to make this possible, let’s say Chara and Asriel both made it to adulthood.

First of all, I think Chara definitely would have joined the royal guard. Even setting aside the fact that the average human is far stronger than any monster, Chara has… mixed feelings towards humanity, to say the least. The Dreemurrs became their family, the Underground became their home. If then were willing to give up their life to save their family as a child, they would absolutely be prepared to put their life on the line to protect their home as an adult.

Now, this may not have been an easy ride for them. At this point, Gerson would have been captain of the royal guard and I doubt he would have given them trouble because of their human heritage, but I can’t say the same for the other guards who joined to defend their home from humans. However, considering that in this world Chara would have been publicly raised by the Dreemurrs, general opinion of humans in the Underground would probably be significantly higher. Chara, at least, would almost certainly be seen as “not like other humans.” This, combined with their own seeming distaste for humanity, also makes me think that Chara would have eventually adopted accessories and clothing that made them appear less human, whether that meant Undyne-like armor or Kris-like horns. Due to their strength and (likely) ability to reset, Chara would have quickly risen in the ranks of the royal guard. Any human who fell during their career would have been hard-pressed to get past them, and they probably would have been instrumental in collecting several souls. However, considering that Gerson would have been much younger at this point and not yet ready to retire, I don’t think they would have ever made captain.

Meanwhile, Asriel would have grown, while Toriel and Asgore aged. Without the deaths of their children and Asgore’s declaration of war on humanity, I think they would have stayed together (what, non-divorcee Asgore? Couldn’t be). Eventually, Asriel would have been crowned king. I think this would have been another crossroads for the siblings. Near the end of Toriel and Asgore’s lives, Chara likely would have realized their parents may die without ever seeing the sun again, and wanted to take whatever risk necessary to ensure that didn’t happen. However, an older Asriel with years more guidance from his parents prior to ascending the throne would likely be firmer in his pacifism, less willing to follow any desperate plan to break the barrier. This disagreement may have driven a wedge between them for some time, especially in the years after their parents’ deaths. I do think they would have worked through it though, especially as Chara aged.

Of course, even if Chara lived a long, long life, they would have died of old age eventually. I imagine that Asriel would deny this for as long as he could - being ageless has its consequences, and no amount of preparation could make the death of his sibling easier. Still, there is no resisting time. Eventually Chara would have died. Afterwards, I imagine they would have requested to be cremated, turning to dust just like their parents, just like those beings they long ago accepted as their own kind.

At the end, King Asriel would be left with one more human soul. What he did with it is anyone’s guess.

[happy74827]

Can you do Young Neil x reader ^.^?

Art of the Mixtape

[Neil Nordegraf x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: In true Neil fashion, he gives you the best birthday present he possibly can.

WC: 1942

Category: Fluff

I literally passed out while writing this on the couch last night, so I had to finish it today, but here ya go! Our precious Young Neil 🥰

『••✎••』

In the dim glow of Neil's room, scattered with posters of indie bands and vintage comics, he hunched over his old cassette player. His fingers delicately selected each track, infusing the mixtape with a subtle rhythm that mirrored the beating of his heart.

He knew he was being a little overly sentimental, but your birthday was one of the few times each year he was allowed to be a bit gushy, a rare occasion where he could take his time, choosing his words and actions with deliberate care. It was almost like the world was on pause for a moment as he navigated the relationship.

It was a simple thing, a few notes strung together on tape, but Neil carefully considered every word.

For you, the song's lyrics are more than just lyrics—they are an expression of his emotions, one that would surely be lost on anyone else. But in your hands, he knows you will understand him better than anyone.

"Love is like a fire; the more you try to hold onto it, the faster it burns."

The words are burning into your brain when Neil presses play.

You're still unsure what the song is meant to say, but you've come to realize how much it means to Neil. As the track loops for a third time, you sneak a glance over to him—his eyes are closed, and his lips are slightly parted. You wonder what he sees in this moment—perhaps he is lost in a memory. You try to picture what he might be thinking of, but you're not sure if your imagination could do it justice.

In the past, you were never very good at interpreting what someone was trying to convey, and the times when you tried to express your feelings always left you with a sickly feeling in your stomach—a heavy knot of nerves that would eventually bubble up into bouts of tears. It's not that you were unaware of what Neil wanted to say, but rather, you were too scared even to imagine it.

The cassette player runs through its cycle a fourth time before the song finishes playing, and Neil's eyes slowly open. His gaze meets yours, and you can see the soft glow of his smile reflected in his eyes. You don't need to say anything because his smile is an unspoken promise of an affection that will last far longer than any cassette tape could possibly play.

His smile fades slowly as he leans towards you. As his lips meet yours, you swear that you can hear the song playing once again in a new refrain—one that promises more than a handful of words.

“Happy birthday…” Neil says quietly, and you swear you can see a faint blush rising to his cheeks. You know how difficult it is for him to be so candidly emotional. You know the words he longs to express—he's told you time and again—but he's afraid to say them out loud.

You're grateful for that. You know it's not an easy thing for him.

You kiss him again and smile.

"Thank you... I love it."

"It's nothing, really. Just uh, small gift." He looks at you with his warm, tender gaze, and you know he's worried you might not like it. "I know you like the vintage stuff, and uh, I found this old cassette player, so I just thought—"

You gently place your hand on his.

"Neil... thank you."

He averts his gaze, and you can see that he's bashfully smiling. He tucks his hair behind his ear and shakes his head lightly.

"I, uh, I'm glad you liked it."

He turns to look back at you and gives you another gentle smile. He seems content just to gaze upon your face, but you don't mind it. After a long moment, he glances down and turns his attention to the cassette player in his hands.

"There's uh, there's more. If you want to hear them..."

He holds the cassette player out to you. You take it in your hands. You turn the cassette player over in your fingers and feel its weight. It's an old cassette player—you know he had to have spent some time scouring thrift shops for it. It's one of the few things he owned that had a personal attachment to it. He was the one to first introduce you to mixtapes and indie music, after all.

You glance down at the player and then back at Neil. He's looking at you expectantly. You know he's hoping for a particular reaction. It's only natural that he would expect that sort of response from you. But, as he's well aware, it's not something that comes so easily.

You smile and nod.

"Of course."

You open the cassette player, and another one of the tracks begins to play. You recognize the melody—it's the song Neil played for you the very first day you met him. The song was a lot more incoherent then, but now the melody is clear. Neil put some time and effort into choosing each track. You can see it now in the careful way he arranged the songs on the cassette. He'd gone out of his way to create a playlist that fit your preferences.

"It's beautiful."

Neil seems surprised to hear your voice, but it quickly melts into a soft smile.

"You think so?" He hesitantly reaches out to touch your hand, and you can see his cheeks turn a shade darker. He runs his fingertips along your palm and gently traces the lines of your hand. "I wasn't sure if... I wanted to get you anything since I know you don't really like, uh, receiving gifts. I just wanted to make something for you, I guess..."

He looks at you, and you see a hint of nervousness in his expression. You can't help but chuckle to yourself. You give his hand a gentle squeeze, and his expression softens. You smile, and he smiles back.

"I love it," you tell him.

Neil smiles wider, and you know that he knows you're sincere. The tension in his shoulders visibly relaxes as he looks back at you. He nods in reply.

"Good," he says. He pauses for a moment, and then he continues, "I wanted to make something for you, but, I dunno, I didn't know if it was right for you or... it would have been too weird..."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "Too weird?"

Neil shakes his head and glances away. "Well, I wanted to make something, like, something you might have liked, but I just... I dunno, I kept thinking that you might not be interested and, uh, I thought, I mean, you're so cool, you know, and..."

You laugh as he begins to ramble. You squeeze his hand and gently pull him closer to you. He tries to look away from you, but you reach up to cup his chin, turning his gaze towards you. You kiss his cheek, and he looks away bashfully.

"Thank you," you say softly. "I don't need anything more than this."

He looks at you, and you smile.

"You mean it?"

You nod. "It's perfect."

He glances down and shyly smiles. He hesitantly reaches out to tuck some of your hair behind your ear, his fingertips lightly brushing your skin as they trail down. You lean into his touch, closing your eyes as you feel the warmth of his hand on your cheek. His thumb brushes against your skin, and your smile widens.

The cassette player is still playing softly, but you don't care. The song isn't important, not right now. You have a different song to sing, and the melody you wish to sing is nothing he could ever hope to craft in a tape player.

You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close as you press your lips against his again. His lips are warm and soft, and you swear you can feel the gentle vibrations as the melody plays out. He relaxes in your embrace and places his hand on the small of your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine as his fingertips press into your skin.

His breath is warm, and his heartbeat is steady, and the more you hold him, the more you can feel him. His lips are gentle as he returns your kiss, his hands holding you tenderly, and the longer you kiss, the more you long for his touch. The soft sound of his song playing in the background makes you feel like time has stopped, and all that matters is this moment, where your lips are pressed against his.

And even when Stephen barged in, shattering the peaceful silence of the moment, it still wasn't enough to break the spell. Neil looked at you with that same bashful, sweet smile he wore moments ago, and you could feel your heart melting.

Stephen glanced between the two of you, then sighed.

"Neil," he said, "Steph called again. She wants to make sure you’re aware that she’s visiting in two days. Are you?”

“Uh, yeah. I know. I talked to her... earlier.”

“Alright, cool. Hurry up and eat then. We have practice, remember? I can only cover for so long...”

Stephen left the room, leaving you and Neil alone again. Neil smiled sheepishly at you, and you knew that he'd forgotten about the practice session Stephen was talking about. You only halfheartedly remembered the date Stephen had mentioned, but you were more interested in watching Neil's reaction to being scolded.

"He's right," you tell him, "Can’t have Sex Bob-Omb without their bassist."

Neil laughs, and you feel your heart melt at the sound of his voice. “Maybe, uh, you can join us sometime? You could bring your drums or uh... I don't know, like a guitar or something."

You smirk. "Is that an invitation to jam with you guys?"

"Sure, why not? You're a better player than me."

You chuckle and shake your head. "I don't think that's true. Even Scott said you’re better than he was. Even the whole ‘Young Neil’ thing was dropped. I think you should be proud of that. I know I am."

"Yeah?"

You nod. "Of course. I'm very proud of you, Neil."

Neil's cheeks turn a faint pink as he ducks his head slightly. He laughs and shakes his head. "I, uh, I guess that's good to hear, I guess." He glances up at you, and you catch the way he's trying to hide a smile. "Thanks."

You lean close to him, brushing your lips against his cheek. He sighs, and you kiss him again. "You're welcome. I'm glad I get to help Sex Bob-Omb live out its dream."

He laughs softly, his hand cupping your cheek. He kisses you again and pulls you closer. The cassette player is still playing, and you've almost forgotten what song it is. Almost.

"Do you really think I'm good enough?"

You kiss him again and wrap your arms around him.

"You're the best."

His smile grows wider, and he buries his face against your neck. His laugh is soft, and his lips linger on your skin. You squeeze him tighter, and he presses his forehead against you, breathing in your scent.

"Thank you, really," he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It’s my birthday wisdom to share."

"Yeah, yeah... Happy birthday, really."

He lifts his head to look at you and smiles, and you're sure there's no place in the world that you would rather be than right here, holding him. Because that’s all you'll ever need—a cassette player, an old song, and your love.

[ghoulschooldropout]

Literally had no idea you had OCs I would have been sending asks this WHOLE TIME spill the beans about them please and thank you 👁👁

you're all getting big ol' cartoony bugs bunny smooches rn i swear<3

OK SO most of my OCs are created through my writing, so a lot of them I don't have drawings of (yet! I'm working on it) and all my fics are WIPs but i can give you a brief intro/over-view of the main OCs that occupy my brain...

(BEWARE: VERY LONG)

Nathaniel J. Pearce (Nate) - the "canon" Sole Survivor - he/him

MY MAIN MAN i have like 5 WIP fics currently going for him...(the pic above is from a comic I’ve been working on, I’m not sure when I’ll finish it tbh, I’m currently in the process of redrawing old pages bc the style was so outdated)

He is the middle sibling of 3: younger brother Adrian & older brother Ethan- they have their own stories going on for them too but I won't get into that

He grew up poor in a very bad family situation, let’s just say his dad was out of the picture & he never had a great paternal role model (other than his brother who was only 4 years older than him). his mother also struggled with addiction & depression and was eventually institutionalized at Parson’s Asylum. so through his teenage years he and Adrian lived with their grandmother (Ethan left and joined the army straight out of high school)

Music was his passion & life's ambition before the war: he plays guitar, trumpet, and piano (his favorite). he also loves to sing & he writes his own music (but NOT the lyrics bc he thinks he is bad with words/poetry)

He was going to college for robotics & computer programming but he dropped out to pursue a career as a musician; this is how he ended up working construction as his day job, and spending his nights entertaining at a club as part of a band in the pre-war combat zone (where he met Nora)

Then of course to be canon compliant he was drafted into the war (turns out he is great at it) which killed a little bit of his soul and fucked up one of his hands; afterwards he swore off violence & promised himself he would never take a life ever again for any reason (which causes him a lot of pain, self-hatred, & inner-conflict post-war as you can imagine)

Before the bombs dropped he was planning to go back to school to become a music teacher

He struggles with PTSD, alcohol abuse/dependency, and grief; basically he's a mess mentally but like who wouldn't be in his position tbh?

Personality-wise he’s a people pleaser and a peace-maker, he gets nervous easily and feels awkward often but he is really good at hiding it. most people think he is very easy-going and likeable with a winning smile (but really he just smiles and jokes/laughs a lot when he’s uncomfortable)

He would probably consider Piper to be his best friend, with Nick and Cait as close runner-ups, but he’s also extremely close to MacCready & Deacon (they sort of fill the bickering brother-shaped holes in his life)

Nick is his love-interest; slow-burn, lots of pining bc they both think the other isn’t interested (& they have Issues) so they don’t get their shit together until after Far Harbor (After the Institute’s destruction)

I don’t really have an over-arching story for him, I just love using Nate to write scenes & give life & detail to the Commonwealth/Fallout 4. So I’ve created a lot of side characters/OCs by giving names, faces, and personalities to the NPCs he meets (such as Minutemen, Triggermen, & Raiders)

this is a lot of information and it’s not even Everything about him! so feel free to ask more facts about him I would be happy to share!!!

I’ve posted a little bit of him HERE, HERE, & HERE (His face is inconsistent, I know, I haven’t got him “just right” yet)

Lenora Mission-Pearce (Nora or Lenny) - she/they

(sorry the only pic I have rn is a doodle I made with the vague idea of her in mind- I’m working on a character sheet!)

Lenora is my sole survivor in an alternate universe where Nate never comes back from Anchorage, so she is a widowed single mother raising Shaun on her own (+Codsworth ofc)

Since there’s no backup Kellogg is less inclined to shoot her when attempting to kidnap Shaun, so in the end they kidnap them Both

The Institute offer her a place to stay there with Shaun, which she accepts at first (feeling she has no choice)

Of course she’s very nosy and asks too many questions & gets on the nerves of the Director, she befriends some Gen 2 synths (they are more human than the Institute gives them credit for) and learns about the organic synth plan (they leave out they are using her son for it), and THEN she finds out that the director kidnapped the rest of the Vault 111 residents and is using them for FEV experimentation which is the last straw leading to a confrontation with the director

the fight goes Very Badly and she asks to leave which presents a problem for the Institute bc they can’t let her go (she knows too much) but they can’t kill her (she’s befriended too many scientists and they would mutiny if her termination ever got out) so they end up forcing her & Shaun back under freeze in Vault 111 (they got what they needed from Shaun, but might as well keep him safe under freeze in case they need him again)

SO eventually she gets released 60ish years later and she’s fucking PISSED and ready to start a war with the Institute but she also has to face the difficulties of raising an infant by herself in the wasteland

So overall it’s Lone Wolf and Cub sort of adventures, with her desire for revenge against the institute keeping her from settling down

BACKGROUND & PREWAR INFO - she grew up rich, her parents divorced when she was young, her dad is Boston’s District Attorney, she went to boarding school where she met and fell in love with Jennifer Lands, so eventually when Jenny moves to Boston with Nick she becomes roommates with Lenora (causing Lenora to want to leave her apartment often and get drunk, which is how she meets Nate), Nate becomes her best friend very quickly and she loves him a lot & marries him but she never considered herself “in love” with him like he was with her

POST-BOMBS, her best friends are Nick and Codsworth

her love interest is Hancock, it’s an enemies to friends to lovers dynamic, they clash and argue a lot but they come to respect each other, Hancock definitely falls first. eventually they rile each other up for fun because they like arguing with each other (and the sex is great)

personality wise Lenora is very straight-forward and blunt, she is competitive, prefers to get her way, and is extremely smart. she speaks her mind and isn’t afraid to make enemies by doing so. honest to a fault. she has a bit of a temper, but she has it very under control (she is a professional after all). she loves her son more than anything in this world and will destroy anything or anyone that threatens her and her baby

Lucinda Mission AKA "Cinder" (Cindy, Cici, Boss, Cinder) - ghoul - raider boss - she/her (pre-war) they/them (post-war) 

Lenora’s half-sibling (younger, father’s side)

They were a chemist before the war

They were on their way to Nora’s house to take Shaun to the park when the bombs dropped and they ended up ghoulified

By the time Nora finds them, Lucinda is the leader of a raider gang occupying the Ironworks by Finch Farm and goes by the name Cinder

They offer settlements in their “territory” protection from other gangs & defense from mutants in exchange for “taxes”

Eventually Cinder & Nora work together to create a unity/treaty between the settlements, minutemen, & raider gangs (but not without a lot of conflict and fights first)

Eventually they become the Nuka-World Overboss

They have an affinity for chems, fire, & demolition, and prefer to use the Shishkebob (flamesword) as weapon

Personality-wise they are a boss ass bitch and they know it, their sense of humor has been warped a bit over the centuries, they can be a hard-ass and even a bit cruel at times but they are a good person still at heart and command respect from their gang

No drawings of Cinder yet unfortunately :(

Amias - super mutant courier six - he/they

Amias’s story is a little muddy, especially to Amias himself who has a lot of memory problems already (getting shot in the head was no help there)

He was turned into a super mutant when he was twelve by his own mother who believed she was “saving” him - his memory of this is warped due to trauma so he thinks that someone was forcing her to do this

Since he was turned so young he is a bit smaller than most mutants, but also because of his age his body was able to adapt better and grow into his mutation than those that were turned as adults

He’s very smart, he has an affinity for computers and robots, and he loves to read and he writes poetry (his handwriting is not the best though)

After his mutation he is abandoned by his mother & “family” (the organization they were a part of) so for many years he wandered the west coast looking for them

Because of this he has wanderlust & gets restless being in one place for long

Eventually as he travelled people asked him to pass along messages & packages as he went and he found himself becoming a courier

He has forgotten most of what has happened in those years searching for his family and it bothers/haunts him, he remembers somethings in his dreams but they are startling & out of context and only serve to stress him out more wondering what part of him he is missing

During New Vegas he becomes close to Raul, Lily, and Arcade (and he never goes anywhere without Ed-e)

He develops a big crush on Arcade, but it is unrequited

He doesn’t like the NCR (and they don’t really like him either) and he hates the Legion, so after befriending Yes-man he fights for an independent (and mutant friendly) New Vegas - but he has no interest in running things so he leaves the Mojave afterwards

Eventually he hears rumors of the Memory Den and so he makes his way east, hopeful to recover his memory & the part of him he thinks is missing... (Where he can become a Companion and you can convince him whether or not the memories are important to his identity)

You can also see Amias HERE

Clyde T. Spade (Courier, Spade, or Clyde)- she/they/his (genderfluid)

I created Clyde by accident, they started out as just a courier I could juxtapose with drawings of Benny (because I find courier/Benny relationship vastly entertaining) but then I started giving her a personality

Spade & Benny’s relationship is volatile and defined by their attempts to kill each other, but they are also inexplicably attracted to each other which makes things weird and complicated

They end up taking over New Vegas together (after Spade has to chase Benny across half the damn Mojave and convince him they actually like the guy despite wanting to kill him sometimes)

I honestly don’t think I have much to say about him right now other than I love drawing a seductive little bastard giving Benny trouble

I don’t know, it’s like this:

you can also see Spade HERE & HERE

Sharps & Maverick (Troy Merritt & Brian Maverick/Z4-21, package deal)

these guys were my first ever fallout OCs, i think i first created them back in high school? I used to have a few drawings of them but they were on a flash drive that is unfortunately no longer with us (RIP)

Sharps & Maverick are business partners that run a caravan company out of the Commonwealth, at least that is what it is on the surface

Their company can be hired to provide protection (normal caravan guards, but also Advanced Protection), but they can also be hired as couriers & delivery across the Commonwealth

They don’t discriminate to whom they provide their services-- be it for the triggerman, gunners, raiders, settlers, the railroad, the brotherhood, etc.

They refuse to traffick people, but they do offer synths jobs on caravans so they can discretely leave the region

Sharps manages most of the business side, the money, the routes, etc.

Maverick doesn’t care much for the details of the business, he enjoys being hands on with the caravans and the people themselves, and he trains Deathclaws & Mutts to provide the company’s Advanced Protection services

The nature of their caravan is mostly hush-hush and underground, they do a lot of their transportation at night, so they’ve managed to go under the Institute’s radar for a long time until Maverick gets replaced by Z4-21

Sharps realizes something is wrong with Maverick pretty quickly, but he lacks the proof and conviction to do anything (but he does start filtering the information he tells Maverick)

This is where the Sole Survivor can come in, they can be introduced to their organization through the Railroad, the Brotherhood, or possibly the Minutemen (looking for an alliance to aid with supply lines)

(or I guess you can come with the Institute to try and destroy/take over the caravan company)

You can convince Sharps to hire you to investigate Maverick (it helps if you have Nick Valentine with you)

You can investigate Maverick’s bedroom & terminal, go to Maverick’s last known whereabouts before his noticeable personality change (according to Sharps), or you can tail Maverick to see/report if he does anything suspicious (you’ll probably have to do all three & make sure you get concrete evidence, Sharps takes a lot of convincing to betray/confront Maverick)

Of course you can confront “Maverick” directly and if you’re convincing enough he will confess to being a replacement, but he will tell you he means Sharps (and the company) no harm and doesn’t want to work for the Institute (it’s up to you to decide if he’s lying)

The ending and what happens to Maverick is really up to you

Depending on the outcome you choose, if you’re aligned with the minutemen but not charismatic enough for the local leader perk you can use Sharps’ caravan to establish supply lines between your settlements

If you got this far I am amazed, thank you so much for reading! If you have any questions about any of them, feel free to send me an ask or DM me! I’ll be posting character sheets eventually that will be much more palatable than this exhausting wall of text, so stay tuned! <3 <3 <3

[mail-me-a-snail]

Sobriety

Chase Brody has been doing everything to combat his alcoholism; going to AA, therapy, being social, exercising...and yet it still isn’t enough. One afternoon, a year after his divorce, Jackie drives him home. tw: alcoholism, panic attacks, car accident ment, suicide ment.

"So, how was it?"

 Chase shrugs, both to slide his backpack off and to answer. He puts the bag in the backseat, then twists back around to buckle himself in. Jackie, mask off and in a plain red hoodie and worn jeans, as opposed to his jumpsuit, sits in the driver's seat, fingers drumming against the wheel in sync with whatever metal is playing on the stereo, Chase doesn't know—he's too tired to go through the challenge of deciphering the lyrics. The chaotic banging of drums and rippling guitar riffs about sum up the state his head's at.

 "It was fine," he says coolly, "I guess. Todd brought his guitar this time." Todd—Todd Danvers—being the head of the group. Great guy, might've made it as a part of the church ensemble, if he hadn't drunken so much wine like every meal was communion. Washed his face in the tub of holy water they have at the door, that's what Todd had told them all, that first day, when Chase was still having the shakes.

 "What'd he sing?" Jackie glances over at him as he twists the key in the ignition. The car hums to life, and they pull out of the center's parking lot with a low rumble.

 "Pretty cover of What Have They Done To You Know. Daniel Knox? Funny, you wouldn't think a guy like him would be into that kind of indie music."

 Jackie laughs, though it's not as bubbly as Chase thought it would be. It's more like an exhale Jackie leans into.

 There's no conversation that follows, so the clicking turn signal, honking cars passing by, and radio fill the silence. He's gotten better at his anxiety with cars. Chase picks at the neon bandages on his fingers—the story is that he tried rather unsuccessfully to build a shelf—nails, all that, you know—but that's not what happened.

 Promise a man, a very wasted, high off his rocker man, a few hundred bucks and he just might cut his whole hand off for you. He'll play the knife game like a roulette wheel, spinning and spinning, until he hits the jackpot, or until he has no fingers.

 Nicks for nickels, that's what his buddies down at the bar say. Nicks for nickels. Money isn't easy to come by lately and he doesn't want to have to depend on Jackie's or his brothers' help for the rest of his life. It isn't fair.

 So, he works, doing odds and ends and stupid dares, because the companies in the city aren't hot on having a recovering alcoholic under their brand. We'll call you back. Your resume looks great, Mr. Brody, you'll be at the top of our list. You'll be a fine employee.

 Ha. Right. Three weeks later? Not a single call, nor email. Nicks for nickels again those nights that followed.

 "Where's your mind at, Chase?" Jackie says amiably, once they're on the long stretch of road heading towards the house. "What're you thinking about?"

 "My shelf," Chase answers, trying his best to sound mournful, stretching his bandaged fingers out in front of him, "Hurt like a son of a bitch to put it together."

 Jackie's mouth presses down into a flat line. He says nothing for a few moments. He changes the station. Something light and electric plays.

 “You know, you could've called me," Jackie says eventually, when they've hit the chorus. "I'm a champ at furniture building. You should see Henrik's desk now; beautiful, if I do say so myself."

 He may sound proud, but he's still frowning.

 Chase picks at the hem of his ratty grey hoodie; he doesn't even remember where he got it.

 "I handled Patricia myself," he shrugs.

 "Patricia—the shelf has a name now?" That gets a laugh out of the hero, and Chase smiles a bit. Jackie's laugh had always been infectious. "Well, you did a fine job, in any case."

 "You're right, though: I'm not as good as you and JJ at that furniture stuff," Chase admits, and cuts Jackie off before he can protest. "No, no, it's true. I've always been the tech guy."

 "'suppose so," Jackie amends. He pauses, turns the radio down, then asks hesitantly, "Chase, how'd you hurt your hands?"

 The lie comes instantly. "I told you, Jackie—Patricia fought me tooth and nails!"

 "No, Chase, that's not what happened." Jackie's voice is firm, if not stern. It's a scolding tone of voice that only Henrik uses with Chase, so it makes him look away in guilt. "Please. Tell me what's really going on. If—If someone's hurting you, or something, I'll—"

 "—No, Jackie, it's not like that! I..." Chase rises on the defense.

 "Then, what is it, Chase?"

 "It's none of your damn business!" He can't stop his voice from raising. He's quick to anger these days—an after affect of the drinking.

 "I'm your brother!" He's still looking at the road. His grip is tight on the steering wheel. "Of course it's my damn fucking business! I'm worried about you Chase, and—"

 "I don't need you to look after me!"

 "Then, who will, Chase? Henrik? Marvin? Jamie? Fucking Robbie? If I don't look after you, you'll...you'll hurt yourself again and I can't let that happen!"

 "I can handle myself."

 "Clearly, you can't."

 "Oh, because I'm a screw-up, is that it? I'm a nobody who isn't good at anything, who almost killed himself—"

 "Stop it."

 "—is that it, Jackie? Is it because I'm a suicidal disaster?"

 "You know what?" Jackie punctuates, "Maybe that is it." Maybe you are a fucking screw-up."

 The anger and disappointment in his voice is so raw it silences. He knows that this is just a row, but it still terrifies him, the way Jackie sounds so much like...Anti.

 Blood rushes through his eardrums and it feels like he's about to burst. His heart runs a hundred miles a second and it hurts. He can feel his pulse behind his eyes, in his fingertips, in his mouth. Jackie disappears from his view as the edges of his version grow black.

 He can't breathe.

 Is this what a heart attack is?

 The world shifting in and out of focus, like a bad camera, and the road disappearing, like the headlights were never there, like he isn't in a car again, barrelling down a street he can barely see, with the kids in the back, and God, Stacy, I know, okay? I know! Please, don't yell—please don't yell at me! I'm trying not to drink anymore—N-No, I'm not drunk— in the front seat, and his hands are gripping the steering wheel tight, and he is, in fact, drunk, so the world is swimming around him and, CHASE—!

 The windshield shatters into a million pieces.

 It happens so slowly Chase can touch the glass as it flies past him. He's in the driver's seat now. He looks to his right, and Stacy is there, beautiful Stacy, her face smacking into the dashboard. He looks down at himself. He's uninjured. He's wearing a ratty grey hoodie, red Converse, blue jeans. In his reflection in the rear view mirror, his brown hair has green strokes; he had done a poor dyeing job.

 Chase closes his eyes.

 "What is real?" His therapist's voice comes back to him, clinical and calm. In this moment, in this panic—ask yourself, "What is real and what isn't?"

 He opens his eyes.

 Real: He is uninjured.

 Not real: Stacy and the kids are here at this moment.

 “R-Real," he whispers, "I am in a car. Not real: it's S-Stacy's car." He looks around to the backseat, but can't bear to look at the kids. He keeps his gaze on the floor. "Real: m-my backpack is on the seat. Not r-real: the kids are here."

 He dares to look up. His backpack is there, black and canvas, with multiple patches. It's half open. Inside are comic books and his laptop. He twists back around, staring head-on at the blank, empty road, like someone forgot to continue building the rest of the world. Either that or there is no world outside of this one car crash.

 A car crash that happened all of two years ago. He's surprised that his other regular nightmare isn't here.

 One night in March (it was now September), he had gotten a visit from their eldest brother. Chase had been drunk at the time, swearing and bawling, so when Anti showed up...Chase did the stupid thing: he took a swing at the demon, thinking he was going to take something else away from him. Of course, he didn't like that.

 A scar, eight or nine inches deep, on his abdomen twitches. He puts a hand to it. That had been the night he swore off drinking, for good.

 "Lots of good it did you."

 Chase jumps, and screams when he catches two empty black pits staring at him intently from the rear view mirror. That voice. Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

 "Y-You're not real," he says, voice cracking out of pure terror, "You a-aren't real!"

 :Oh, I'm very real, Chase," Anti appears beside him in the passenger seat, clipping through Stacy, who's blood drips in slow motion. He is just as demonic as Chase remembers him; black, empty eyes that dripped like ink down his pale cheeks, all black attire, his Converse up on the dashboard, and the grossly shiny red gash across his neck. He almost looks like Jack, in a way.

 "N-Not real, not real—"

 "Say it all you want, Brody, but I am real. I've come to finish the job."

 "W-What?"

 "Hold still."

 A hand closed around his neck, pushing him back, his head smacking into the car door. He cries out, arms lashing wildly and legs thrashing, but Anti isn't deterred. The knife glints above his head. The shards of glass reflect upon it, making it shimmer in all sorts of colors. The radio goes wild; static, static static, filling the world, making Chase's ears ring with its volume.

 "D-Don't do this, please, God, fuck, don't—What do you want from me?!"

 Anti smiles. His eyes turn grey-blue, white scleroses. His gash disappears.

 He's a perfect reflection of Jack.

 "Sobriety," he says, in Jack's achingly calm, innocent voice, "Is that too much to ask, Chase?"

 "Fuck, no, no, please—!"

 The knife comes down into his heart.

 "Chase?"

 Anti's...Jack's voice echoes in his ears. It sounds so far away.

 Not real: Jack talking to him.

 "Chase?"

 Real: he's about to die.

 "—CHASE!"

 He jolts awake, panting for air like he had been drowning. His face, neck, and shirt are certainly wet; he's sweating bullets. His hands are shaking something awful. Chase swings his gaze around, trying to take in everything at once.

 "No, Chase, please—l-look, look at me!" Hands touch his cheeks gently and he flinches. They return, directing his eyes forward. Jack...no, not Jack—the hair is a neon green...Jackie. Jackie looks at him in worry, blue-grey eyes looking over him. His touch is warm. His hands are shaking. He's got tears in his eyes, but his breaths are controlled. That's the Jackie he knows—never truly removing the mask.

 "J...Jackie?" His heartbeat is still thumping wildly, but it's slowing down, as he can feel it in his jaw. His brain feels like molasses. "I don't...what..."

 "I pulled over," Jackie drops his hands, but holds Chase's in both. "I didn't mean to call you that, I'm sorry!"

 Chase blinks slowly. He looks out the windshield, unbroken, rain dropping in fat splats, the window wipers working overtime—when the hell had it started raining?—and they are pulled over. They're in front of a house he recognizes as being part of the neighborhood. They're not too far from home. The sun is setting, but the sky is too grey to tell where. The clouds are dark and stormy. People rush by the car and into their homes, some with umbrellas, others caught without.

 "N-No, Jackie, it's...it's my fault. I shouldn't have yelled at you." His words come back to him and they fill him with shame.

 "I shouldn't have gone off on you like that, either. I didn't...you're not a screw-up."

 "I am." He shakes his head, tears blotting his eyes, drops falling onto his pants. He hiccups. "I'm s-such a fucking m-mess, Jackie."

 The seatbelt unclips beside him and warm arms envelope him. He lets Jackie hug him, unclipping his own seatbelt. They stay there for a moment. Two.

 Chase comes clean.

 Nicks for nickels. The bar. His "friends."

 Most importantly of all, the drinks. You don't go to a bar and not have a drink. He doesn't drink until he's blackout drunk anymore, but he drinks enough to be numb. He's relapsed. He was only able to slip in AA the following day after a strong shot of vodka and some breath mints. The whole session, he had been hammered by a hangover.

 Jackie listens silently, but the weight of his disappointment bears down on Chase's shoulders like an anvil.

 "Chase..." He starts, but the other shakes his head frantically.

 “I know."

 "You're not supposed to drink anymore."

 "I know."

 "I'll... I'll talk to Todd tomorrow, your therapist, too. They have to know about this."

 "N-No, Jackie, I have to tell them myself." Having their disappointment on his mind would destroy him, but he needs just a little bit of control of what's happening. "But promise me one thing?"

 "Anything."

 Chase bites his lip.

 "Don't t-tell the others." Jackie opens his mouth to protest. "No, Jackie, y-you have to promise me this. Not Henrik, Marvin, or any of the others...I don't want them to know about this. I don't w-want them to think I'm weaker than they already think I am. And I know they do. I know all of you do. And y-you're all right."

 "You are not weak."

 "I relapsed." Chase rubs his face with his palms. "It hasn't even been six months."

 "Chase," Jackie says firmly, "Look at me."

 When he does, hesitantly, the hero takes a breath.

 "Chase Brody Mcloughlin, you are the strongest person I know," he starts, "because despite all you've been through, you are still here. You are still living and breathing and I know it hurts, but you are so incredibly brave for surviving. I am proud of you, even if you've relapsed. This road you're driving down, it's not an easy path. I don't have to tell you that for you to know. There'll be bumps and detours but...I'll always be here for you. We'll always be here. Anytime you need us. I'll help you get back on the road. I promise."

 That is why Jackie is Chase's hero. Despite everything, anger and pain and injustice...he still manages to be kind.

 Chase nearly starts bawling. He bites down on his knuckles and just nods. He can't say much, so Jackie turns the engine on.

 "Let's go home."

  --

 They park near the sidewalk. The rain has lightened to a drizzle. The clouds are clearing. The stars are coming out. The lawn is wet with dew. The lights in the living room are on.

 Chase feels sick looking at the house. His eyes and nose are stuffy and red and he has a headache coming on. He can't hide the fact that he's been crying. Years of dealing with Anti has trained his brothers to notice the smallest of details.

 "Chase," Jackie murmurs, "if...if you are serious about being able to handle yourself, I...well, it was supposed to be a surprise, but there's this apartment in the city that I've saved. I haven't spent anything on it, but...if you want, I can help you get it. Contribute a little. The rest can be up to you. I'll help you get a job, even."

 Chase looks at him, unsure. "Really?"

 “Yeah. I know you've spent most of your life away from us and it's a bit of a shock to be caged in with us again, so..."

 He loves them, but the house is stuffy. He misses his old apartment, but he had missed his brothers, too.

 "Thanks, Jackie," he says, "I'll...I'll have to think about it."

 "Okay. Take your time."

  --

 At dinner, no one suspects a thing.

 Jamie fills him in on Robbie's garden—it's going smoothly, with beautiful, flowering succulents. For a zombie, it's no surprise he has a green thumb, he jokes, and Chase laughs.

 Marvin teaches him a card trick, much to Henrik's disdain; no magic at the dinner table, he scolds them like a mother hen.

 Jackie watches him from across the table. He can feel his gaze boring into his skull.

 The dining room is warm and full of life. Chase isn't completely involved mentally, but he's enjoying the sounds of dinnerware and conversation. He's not sure what they're having for dinner, either, but it's good. He just feels so out of it because of the emotional roller-coaster that was today.

 The prospect of having a new apartment and a stable job...it terrified him, because what would happen if he relapsed again?

 He tries to still his hands when he drinks water.

  --

  "Goodnight, Chase," Jackie kisses the top of his head, then goes to the doorway of his room.

 “Goodnight. Thanks, Jackie. For today."

 Jackie smiles and says nothing. He shuts his door.

 Chase goes into his room and closes the door behind him. The bed is messy, but he doesn't care. He slides right into it, tossing his phone onto the desk, and closing his eyes.

 He feels the small grooves of scars along his fingers—he had finally taken off the bandages. More scars, more tallies. One on his abdomen, a few on his wrists...a bullet scar on his scalp. He doesn’t even have the gun anymore. Jackie had surrendered it to the police. He still feels the ghost sensation of cool metal on his palm.

 He sits up and crosses the hall, knocking softly on Jackie's door.

 "Come in," the hero's voice floats from behind it. He opens the door.

 Jackie is lying on his bed in his somehow neat room, with a shelf full of comic books arranged by series and brand. His hoodie is slung over the back of his desk chair. He looks up from his phone when Chase stands in the doorway.

 "What's up, Chase?" He asks, eyebrows raised.

 Chase shuffles his feet.

 "Can I...can I bunk with you tonight? It's just that I, I can't stop thinking about it all, and I'm...I'm scared."

 "It's no problem, buddy," Jackie's expression softens, and he moves over, patting the space beside him. "Come 'ere."

 Chase settles in, hesitantly, putting his head on Jackie's chest. He can hear the hero's heartbeat and breath. It's a comforting sound.

"Thank you," Chase whispers.

 "Anything for my little brother," Jackie smiles. "Goodnight."

 "Goodnight."

 He's terrified of building a new life for himself because if he relapses it will all come crashing down again. He doesn't know if he can handle that.

 But he has to try.

 As much as it hurts, he has to. If not for himself, for Henrik, Marvin, Jamie, Robbie...and Jackie.

 For Jack.

 It's what he would've wanted.

And that’s what makes his relapse so crushing.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Veritas - Elias x Reader (Trespass)

The ‘x’ is very suspect. 😉

@mandy23b  @wltz-bby @happyskywhale​ #MendoTagSquad

Author’s Note: The fact I even wanted to watch this is all on you two. Yes you two! I hope you’re happy-! Thank you for making gifs, thank you for reblogging gifs, thank you for watching with me! Actually to be real with you, this was a plot thread for Kyle Sullivan from Guns For Hire (hence why he is name dropped constantly) but at least Elias gets a little more character development! 😁

I realise that Nick Cage’s character was also called Kyle, but oh well-! Too late to back out now, maybe Elias just shouldn’t mess with people called Kyle...?? 🤷‍♀️

Don’t Play - Halsey

Disclaimer: Trespass and everything associated not mine / lyrics not mine (but hey! No song title!)

Premise: On the trail of your own payment, a group of robbers pick the wrong house to mess with... One in particular catches your interest.

Words: 3975

Warnings: Swearing / comically written action scenes! 

_______

All alone out in Saint-Tropez Lookin' as fine as this damn Monet Everybody thirsty, drinks on me Tryna take back what you say to me I don't give a damn what you say to me There ain't no time for games with me I'm moving on, I'm getting paid I'm on my own, I had some space to deal with it I'm moving on, it's getting late Go and grab someone and find a place to deal with it I’m not the type to be out past dawn Tomorrow got a flight headed to Taiwan Now you know where the bottle gone Drippin' so wet with the Pérignon I am not the type to admit I'm on How could I lie when we sip so strong? Yeah, don't even try Can't fuck up my vibe Double cuppin' in the ride Motherfucker, don't play with me

---

Sometimes you wondered why you even did this job anymore. There was something about your professionalism that felt your skills would be better used elsewhere. But here you were. It wasn’t exactly something you could escape now – even if you somehow managed that, you’d be tracked down and killed eventually. And hiding was no way to live. It wasn’t that you didn’t – enjoy was the wrong word, but – enjoy what you did, it was that it seemed to get easier… Unless you were just getting better? Perhaps. You’d been at this alone for quite some time and before that, with your mentor by your side… Years almost blurred, and you’d been bounced around the world more times than you could count, so even your time zones were out of sync. However, now you were back ‘home’ in the US of A you could adjust a little better; despite the presence of four time zones of its own. You were currently working jobs down the East coast, so were only stuck in one. You stretched, before dismantling your firearm, satisfied that the clean-up exercise was also done. Re-opening the office door you walked out into the corridor as if nothing was wrong; flipping all the security switches back to normal you watched all the CCTV screens re-illuminate. You wouldn’t be in any footage; almost as if you never had been around… Walking back onto the street in the warm night air you were approached by a second man; “It’s done?” “Of course.” “…It’s no wonder they nickname you as they do is it?” He was referring to the odd, and yet appropriate moniker you’d been given within the circles of your profession. “Joel. It’s my job to get in and out without getting noticed…” You rummaged in your pocket for a moment, producing a packet from your coat, “See this gets sent to the correct people.” “Of course… There’s a call, waiting for you.” “I would have figured…” You walked together towards a black car parked up on the curb, nothing too flashy, nothing to draw too much attention. “…Thank you, Joel.” “See you back at HQ.” “That you will.” He opened the door, allowing you to step in. The car pulled smoothly away from the curb - you took one breath, and picked up the call. “Good evening Sir.” “I trust it is done.” “Yes. All accounted for. Documents sent.” “Good. Your payment will be wired to you as soon as we receive it.” “Thank you, Sir.” “You haven’t let us down.” “Do I ever?” You could almost hear the small smile, “No. I have another for you. We’ll talk about it as soon as you arrive.” “Of course, Thank you Sir.”

 *** The sound of smashing glass downstairs only made you curious. You could guess straight away why someone would look at this house and think it was worth robbing – that or they had a grudge against the owner. If you were honest with yourself, you’d also understand that one. Only their presence here was about to make your errand run a little harder. Whoever they were clearly hadn’t done any research on the man himself, but you’d leave them to ransack the place and find nothing of value. Mostly because you already had the majority of it on you. Kyle Sullivan had hired you for plenty of jobs before – though you thought, considering your hefty price tag, that his real intention was just to get to see your face – and usually he paid. Well this time Kyle didn’t have the money (or so he said) and you were about to move on; not exactly being the trusting kind or one to wait, you decided to take matters into your own hands and turn up at his house. Mr.Sullivan wasn’t around, so you’d simply take the next best thing, and call yourselves even. You slid the dresser draw closed and listened for a moment – there was a lot of commotion, clearly they weren’t aiming to be inconspicuous, and you picked out four distinct voices. Three male, one female. Immediately your brain set to work and you straightened, walking across the bedroom floor to listen a little clearer. Kyle had a timer system in his house to make it look like people were around when they really weren’t, he used to bluff that it helped with the security, clearly not. It was how you’d managed to get around – though to be honest you’d be just as effective in the dark with a torch. Not-so-hushed voices floated to you from the lower level, “There’s gotta be a safe somewhere-!” “Alright, we’ll split, office, bedroom, look for anything that seems like an obvious place to hide a safe!” You rolled your eyes; “Idiots.” You didn’t exactly want to leave Kyle’s house full of dead bodies if you could help it – it’d be a waste of ammunition apart from anything else. Wondering if they knew the building layout, you moved from the bedroom to the top of the stairs – having dispersed from below, you descended carefully pulling your gun from it’s hiding place. You might assume they were armed; you wondered why they hadn’t questioned that the alarm wasn’t. If these guys are amateurs, I swear to god… Glass was sprinkled all over the floor from their makeshift entrance – there was a chill in the night air, but you didn’t shiver as the breeze swept in. All you could really think was it’d cost Kyle money he ‘didn’t have’ to fix it all again. You glided silently across the lobby floor, trying to decide which set of footsteps to follow; it was oddly quiet for there being five bodies in the house, but you supposed soon enough there would be shouting of ‘anyone found anything’  and you’d prefer they didn’t have time to mobilize as a group again. Having said that, you’d taken out rooms full of people who were real threats before now. This group was nothing. Even in heels you could make yourself silent as you followed the heaviest set of footsteps; you’d trained to walk, run, fight and even land on heels like this for a very long time, so being quiet was a cake walk… There weren’t many shadows left in a house when every light was being thrown on, but you made use of those there were, and your silence. And it was pretty easy to take a good look at four people who weren’t doing their best to hide. You could hide in plain sight if you wanted; you certainly weren’t about to stand around doing so though – you didn’t need yelling and screaming, you needed four quick strikes, so no one would know what had hit them. The order was determined for you – there was only one of them, perhaps two, that really knew what they were doing. The biggest was the obvious first target, because he was the one that looked like he could take you in a fair fight. He was very meticulous in the things he touched and inspected, proceeding from room to room – the expert. The leader was also obvious just by the way that he moved, less meticulous but nonchalant, cool headed – in control, or so he might think. The third man needed to be taken out as quickly as the first; you’d observed people long enough to know what someone dulled down on medication looked like – well, he was the opposite, a jittery livewire who looked like he’d ignored doctors’ orders for longer than safe to do so. Yet if you thought he was tearing up rooms in a state (and you kinda pitied Kyle at this point, but at least he probably wouldn’t know it was you who stole anything.) it was nothing compared to the woman. Your head tipped as you watched the way she would open one draw, be half way through it and get distracted by something else – pulling clothes out of wardrobes, trying them on before discarding them and trying on something else. What was telling was that you could walk half way into the room and your presence wasn’t noticed. Hard drugs were your first and only thought – there were enough tells on her. You rolled your eyes and traced your way back to the lobby before taking a deep breath, neatening your clothing to make sure it wasn’t about to hinder you, you pulled your hair back off your face and checked your gun was loaded – just in case - tucking it into the front of your pants for easy access. That would have been dangerous, but you were a trained assassin, if you couldn’t handle that what could you handle?

You stretched and, turning on your heels, started towards your first victim of the evening. Usually you’d shoot to kill even if the person in question wasn’t your intended target, if they were getting in the way of what you needed to do. You didn’t see the point here – get them down, finish up your own work, and get out of here as soon as possible. You were right about the first man, he was the heaviest armed – and heaviest set, meaning stealth and speed were going to be the only things getting you through this. Your run up from the room opposite was good, and if he was turning because he heard you or just to move didn’t matter. Your flurry of strikes caught a pressure point, then a nerve, then his head, as you flipped him over your shoulder where he slammed pretty hard onto the floor. You paused for a second, but there wasn’t even a ‘everyone okay-!?’ or curious scuffle from anyone else. You straightened, brushing yourself off, possible overkill – but he was out cold. You smirked; this was child’s play. The second man was a little easier, although you figured slamming his head into anything probably wouldn’t help the fact he needed medication. You frisked both for anything useful before heading back to the woman; now leaving a trail of clothes up the corridor she wasn’t particularly hard to find again – and you even got cocky enough to have your heels occasionally strike the floor. It was still one of your favourite noises – perhaps the reason you wore them.   You found yourself watching her again and almost pitied her – almost. Your movement across this room was a little slower; and you weren’t sure you wanted to hurt her by knocking her into anything. You got as close as possible before throwing your arm around her neck – she let out a gasp of surprise but not much else before she struggled. “Hush… Sweetie, it’ll be easier on you…” You tightened your hold, dragging her slowly down to the floor as her grip on you loosened. “That’s it… that’s it… good girl…” You let her go as she lost consciousness, puling yourself upright. That gave you a little bit of time to deal with the ring leader. You collected your bag of things and threw it around yourself; pulling your pistol, this time you kept it in hand as you walked through the house. This time he made himself a little harder to find right at the back of the house, and you pulled a chair out to wait for him in a side corridor; legs spread you leant over a knee, gun pointed to the floor, head supported by your palm as you ran your fingers over your lips. You’d give him a minute to realise there was nothing worth it this way and walk back. He did. And you were glad to see his peripheral vision wasn’t as shocking as nearly everyone else’s apparently was by the way he walked by your corridor and paused. By the time he’d taken a step back to turn to you it was already too late. *** Elias wasn’t exactly sure if he’d missed it entirely or you’d just popped up out of nowhere, but as soon as he stepped back, he was confronted by a woman running at speed for him. And that was the last thing in hell that was supposed to be happening. He sidestepped, but you expected it; grabbing his leather jacket you slammed him into the opposite wall. He was a fighter though, and immediately his arm went for yours and he pushed back from the wall, you weren’t having that. SMACK – one elbow to his chest knocked the air from him and made him stagger backwards but there was no way you was letting him get away that easy; his firearm was out of reach of his hands if he still wanted to fend you off, and it was easy for you to take and send skittering across the floor. This apparently made him very angry, and you dodged his swipes, long coat blurring and disguising your movements. Discovering that he was a quick learner, he had your next few hits pretty well countered, but of course he wasn’t paying attention to your legs – and you had his feet swept from under him; now he was grounded. “GUYS!” “Oh honey, they aren’t gonna hear you… You and I are the only conscious people in this house…” Elias’s eyes flicked to the gun in your hand, still pointed to the floor. If he could get that from you, he might just have a chance. You continued to walk forward; “I don’t know if you know, but you picked the wrong house to try and rob…” as you did so Elias backed up, and eventually managed to scramble to his feet. You rolled your eyes again; some people never learn. He came for you once more; having you move to your right was a better move than you’d anticipated, as his hand reached out to snap around your wrist; his grip was tight and he had your gun hand immobilised. Bringing you closer he crossed your arm around your front, this time pushing you against the wall. “How’d you like it, huh?” “Dunno, it’s been a while since a man had me pushed up against a wall. Maybe you should do it again and I’ll tell you.” You gave him a little smirk – situation hardly worrying you. You’d been in much worse. Elias’ eyes narrowed, but the pause in action allowed him a minute to catch his breath and survey you. Even in heels you were a little shorter than him, hair pulled neatly off your face to make sure it didn’t get in your way you were dressed in all black and all business. The kind of work he did. Your eyes regarded him with a mix of distain and interest, your skin held just a hint of a tan, as if your holidays in exotic places were just wearing off… And for all he knew they could have been, but then why were you stealing from this house? Unless you were security, but you didn’t dress like security.

His blue eyes traced back to your hand; the ring on your finger. It was a tarnished silver… the Latin cut from the ring, hollow/ Veritas. “Truth?” You gave a nod, impressed if only for a second. Elias removed his hand from your wrist to notice the ink under his fingers; “verum nocet?” “Truth hurts.” - though now he’d loosened his hold on you - “A little like this.” You pushed him back and delivered a swift kick to his chest – this time when he hit the floor it sounded painful, and the thud echoed around the living room. “Now…” You clicked the safety back on your gun and holstered it again, “Personally, I don’t like leaving a mess. But I certainly could if I needed to…” You stepped over him, and watched the way he breathed heavily, but his eyes still traced your body. God, men are so predictable.   A beep sounded from another room and you raised your eyebrow, “Is that… a 20-minute burglary alarm? Oh my god, you guys are amateurs. This is kinda embarrassing…” For them, obviously. You titled your head, “What’s your problem with Kyle Sullivan?” “We don’t have one.” He managed, still winded, “Have you seen this fucking house? Why are you here?” “Kyle hired me to assassinate someone and didn’t pay up, I’m just taking what’s due to me. I heard you talking about safes, but you’ve picked the wrong man, …?” He realised you were waiting for his name, but you didn’t miss his eyes widen at the word assassinate; “…Elias.” “…Elias. Because Mr.Sullivan keeps the real important things at the bank or in his downtown office… The only things worth taking are in my bag, because I know where to look. You guys are a little late.” “What did you do to everyone-!? What the hell did you do!? My brother, my girlfriend-!?” “She’s your girlfriend?” You raised an eyebrow, “Oh. Oops…” You pushed your heel into his chest; “…Oh, honey, I think you could do better…” You gave a smirk at the wince on his face and crouched slowly. He was still giving you that same look and the only thought that crossed your mind was ‘some girlfriend…’ You bit your lip, eyes flicking from his eyes to his lips and back; “Like me…” “I don’t even know your name.” You moved your foot so you were now straddling him, hands either side of his head; “OH. Elias, don’t let that stop you! Though, you seem pretty immobilised at the moment, honey…” You leant down, face close to his, “Besides – when else are you gonna get the opportunity to say you got to kiss an assassin and live, hmm?” “Maybe you should get out the Champagne and we can celebrate.” You liked his attitude, even pinned under you. “Perignon do you? He’ll have some somewhere.” Elias scoffed, “Sounds like your interest in this guy isn’t purely professional.” “Please. I don’t sleep with clients.” You watched his eyes trace your body again and this time he bit his lip. “You sure about that girlfriend of yours?” “Shut up.” His eyes met yours again, “What do you want?” “To get out of here without a hitch with my shit, darlin’…” You ran your nails over his face, and he shuddered, lips parted, “…You’re not going to make that too hard, are you? Cuz I can be out of your hair in five minutes if you want…” Elias’ eyes fluttered closed as they scraped down his neck and over his chest. “Fuck…” “Tell me you’re not still thinking about her…” You gave a smirk, “Do you want me to give you a name to scream?” His eyes snapped open at that and he swallowed hard, but you chuckled, “Don’t worry, I hardly have the time. But baby, understand I can’t just let you go… Still, I’d like not to leave Kyle’s house a complete mess. So, I don’t want to have to kill you.” You leant over him again, this time running your hand through his hair. “So why don’t you be good, hmm? And we can all get out of this mess alive.” “…Why…Why Veritas?” You raised an eyebrow, “You get five minutes with me and you chose to discuss Latin?” You smiled, face close to his “…That’s poetic… Do you ask every girl you meet why she had the tattoos she does?” “That’s not just a tattoo.” Elias got this cocky look on his face suddenly, and his eyes flashed, like he’d just figured you out; Your voice got a little lower; “The truth is a powerful thing…” He very nearly scoffed, but that turned to a gasp as soon as your hips ground against his – it was nothing more than a tease, as much as a warning. Just to let him know who was in control here. “Which makes it a problem, no matter what you say. Which is why people lie. Half of my life is based on pretending I’m something I’m not. By the time they find out what I really am… It’s too late. Truth hurts… My mentor used to say it all the time. Before he shot.” “Must have been quite the man.” “Mmmm.” You nodded, “Twice the man you think you are.” That was enough for him to growl; sick of you mocking him, Elias grabbed your shirt and pulled you in, lips on yours roughly, his kiss was harsh – you pinned his wrists back – determined to keep it for as long as you could. It wasn’t like you got to do something like this often, you didn’t keep relationships like this – they usually ended in disaster. You pulled back, both breathless and he could tell by the look on your face that you were about to say something else smart – which only led to him yanking you back for another; he freed one hand – running it through your hair; this time your grind against his hips was pretty near involuntary, and he arched his body up into yours. Elias very nearly hated himself for moaning, but this was comparable to hate sex (unfortunately void of real sex) and he wanted nothing more than for you to tear his clothes off and have him right here. It was delightfully sinful to even think about. But you pulled back, and before he could think his next thought, you’d dragged him across the floor and cable tied him to the coffee table. “What the Fuck!?” “Oh, baby…” you stole another kiss, “I told you, I can’t stay for that. And…” You threw your bag back across your body from where you had left it, “You know what they say, leave ‘em wanting more…” You crouched again, but were unable to resist giving him another hot kiss, nails back to digging into his face and throat, “Now your friends will be awake soon, just hope it’s before Mr.Sullivan gets home…” You straightened up, “I should thank you, Elias… I can blame all this on you…” You winked and blew him another kiss, “That was enjoyable. I’d like to get a little hotter and heavier if our paths ever cross again… I won’t tell her if you don’t.” With that you swept through their make shift entrance, hardly paying attention to whatever he was yelling after you, and hopped back into your car. Maybe you’d give Kyle a tip off tomorrow… Maybe you’d just let him wallow in misery, you wouldn’t have to do this if he had just paid you properly. You pulled away from the house with a smirk on your face – you couldn’t help but admit, that was the most fun you’d had on a job for a long time. *** Elias was not impressed that they were all laughing at him, “Will you just get me the fuck out of here-!?” “Alright, hold still…” “I have been reliably informed that we’re out of luck on this one.” “Well. There’s always another rich bastard somewhere else…” “There’s that…” Elias rubbed his wrists and stood; but as he did so something fell from his jacket – landing on the floor it looked like nothing more than a white piece of card. Ty picked it up with a raised eyebrow, and then looked back to Elias; “Elias, who’s Y/N?” “Huh?” “Dude it fell from your jac-” “I know!” He took it, flipping it over. The second side was black; your name in little white letters and a number underneath. That wasn’t coincidence – that was you. It had to be you. Did assassins have calling cards? He couldn’t help but smirk to himself before he flipped it back. The light caught it just right, and the iridescent white suddenly shone out against the dull card. Veritas.  

 Truth. Truth was you wanted to see him again. Truth was, it might have only been a kiss, but he wanted that just as bad.

---

Thank you for reading! 😁

[writing-for-amusement]

Keep It Secret, 3

Summary:  Ever since your soulmate told you to stop writing on your skin because they didn’t want to communicate, you did as they asked even though it hurt your heart. During the first day of your new job as an “emergency woman” on a film set, you forget your notepad and planner, so you have to write on your skin. When you’re then called to the makeup trailer to deal with an emergency, you meet Zendaya Coleman, with your supply list on her wrist. You vow to keep your status as her soulmate a secret, even if it hurts, because all you want is for her to be happy. Even if it’s to your detriment.

A/N: Okay,,,,,,,,,,,, I live by the philosophy that it’s not tomorrow until you wake up, soooooooo... Anyway, I hope you guys like this one. It admittedly got a bit away from me, but I like where it went. Also, I would LOVE to know what you think will happen next. You’ll see what I mean ;)

Disclaimer: I do not know or claim to know Zendaya Coleman; I am essentially using her as a face/name claim to my fic idea. The same goes for the other people in this fic. That being said, I hope you like this!!!!!

Warnings: some flirting (???), some stress, brief panic attack, brief sensory overload, gross guys at bars, bars, alcohol, a bit of swearing but not a lot

Word Count: 3512

Permanent Taglist: @pparkerwrites, @jordyns-library, @natblidaclexa, @peterseuphoria, @lesbian-x-blackwidow, @beccaboo929, @softrdj, @icecoldban

KIS Taglist: @hailqueenconquer, @imaginerequestpage, @adventurousbooknerd

Chapter 3

The next morning, you woke up on time and made sure everything was packed in your purse. You certainly did not want a repeat of the previous day. As soon as you were finished with that and the needed double checks, you hopped in the shower.

You wrapped yourself in your fuzzy robe after you dried off, padding over to your closet. Normally, it was easy to pick an outfit; the day before had been easy even with your panic at running late. Now that you knew your soulmate, though, you inadvertently found yourself agonizing over your clothing.

After another few minutes, you settled on your best black leggings and an oversized sweater that was a dark green, over a black tank top. You had happily covered what you considered all of your imperfections, including your tummy and your thighs. And, with the sweater, your arms were hidden.

You slipped on your flats and put on your sunscreen and a bit of makeup, just to even out your skin tone. Then, after you fixed your hair as you wanted it, you went back into the kitchen and did another check on your needed supplies.

As you were grabbing an apple for breakfast, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Zendaya; just the notification was enough to get your heart racing.

“Hey Y/N, I’m outside, let’s get going,” the text read.

You quickly texted her that you were on your way down and did one final check of your purse. Then after grabbing your pre-prepared lunch, you were on your way down.

Zendaya honked her horn as you appeared at the door to your building; she then leaned out and waved to you comically.

With a chuckle, you walked out and around her car. She was laughing brightly as you climbed in, the bright smile on her face making your day 8000 times better already.

It’s what she wants.

“You know, I have neighbors,” you remarked as she began her drive.

“Who cares about them,” she waved you off, the grin on her face infectious.

“Do you actually need to be at work this early today?” you asked.

“Nope,” she popped the ‘p.’

“Then why—”

“Wanted to see you,” Zendaya answered with a shrug. “Don’t know why.”

You accepted her answer and repeated your mantra as you fought your heartrate. She smirked at you and turned up the music, easily rapping along with the lyrics. When you recognized the song, you would sing along with her. That would lead to Zendaya laughing brightly and continuing louder, forcing you to try and match her volume.

The only thing you could hope for was some sort of normalcy, a time in the day where you didn’t have to worry about keeping the secret.

 You’d been working on the movie for two weeks now. The emergencies would come and go, and you took them in perfect stride. You had fun with different members of the crew; a makeup artist named Jade had become a rather close friend, in fact. And, well, Zendaya still picked you up on days that she had to be on set. It was a nice, if admittedly stressful, routine.

Hugh Jackman, a very sweet man, had decided to take everyone out for drinks after work. You weren’t going to go, because it was Saturday night and those nights are always full of people. Not all of the crew could go, many of them having families to get back to, but Jade was adamant in trying to get you to go.

“I don’t know, Jade, I don’t really like crowds, and drinking isn’t really my scene—” you cut yourself off as you say Zendaya out of the corner of your eye, her hand already reaching out to touch your shoulder to get your attention.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Jade was pleading as you whirled your body to face Zendaya and took two small steps back.

“H-hey, Z!” you greeted your unknowing soulmate.

“Hey,” she chirped right back, though her eyebrows were furrowed at your reaction. “What are you talking about?”

“Zendaya,” Jade turned to the actress and you groaned dramatically, “you have to convince Y/N to come with us!”

“You’re not coming?” Zendaya asked with a small pout for emphasis on her sadness.

“I-I don’t really like crowds,” you muttered out. “And I prefer to drink in my own home, you know, where it’s safe.”

Zendaya pouted more exaggeratedly this time and reached out to tug on your sleeve. You nonchalantly leaned away (or at least you hoped it was nonchalant) and slid farther away from her. Every single millimeter of distance between you two broke your heart, but it was what she wanted, and you were determined to keep the secret from everyone.

Jade’s narrowed eyes gleamed though, noticing your slightly strange behavior.

“Please?” Zendaya and Jade then pleaded simultaneously, giving you puppy-dog eyes and pouting dramatically.

“How about this?” Jade then ventured. “You can be the DD! And since you’d be driving my car, you can spend the night at my house, and I’ll take you home tomorrow.”

“Please?” they pleaded again at your doubtful look.

With a hefty sigh, you nodded, causing them to both cheer with joy. Jade then laced your arms together and said she would drive the two of you to the bar, since Zendaya was already going with a few of the other actors. She waved you off, which you returned, and then went to find her ride.

You could practically sense Jade’s mind cranking as she tried to understand your weird behavior with Zendaya. That hadn’t been the only time you had avoided the woman’s touch; anytime it looked like she was about to touch you, you had managed to slip away or just out of her reach. You weren’t like that with anyone else, letting people lean on you or give you hugs, or even hold your hand.

Jade started her car and you were grateful she had offered to drive. You got to sit in a quiet car, and you got to sit in the front seat. The only problem you had was that you knew Jade was figuring something out.

The bar was nearing when Jade slammed her breaks to a red light and shouted, “She’s your soulmate and she doesn’t know!” with an incredible amount of certainty.

“Wh-what?” you stuttered, nearly choking on the water you’d been sipping.

“Zendaya!” Jade exclaimed, turning her head to look at you with piercing eyes.

“Why would you think that?” you questioned, trying to hide your nerves.

As Jade began to drive again, she said, “Well, the first time you met her, with that problem with the writing on her arm, you went incredibly pale at seeing that list. I later heard Mary from costuming talking about how you’d written a list on your wrist because they needed sticky notes, because our departments were talking about needed office supplies. And you never let her touch you, ever. You’re a touchy person, Y/N, it doesn’t bother you. Except for Zendaya. So, the only explanation is that she doesn’t know.”

You sighed in defeat, hanging your head and staring at your hands in your lap. Jade parked the car closer to the bar than either of you expected and put a hand on your shoulder. Her hazel eyes were soft as you looked up at her.

“Why doesn’t she know?” she asked gently.

You inhaled sharply, not sure if you were ready to share this with anyone other than Aziza and Idrissa. They had freaked out when you got home from your first day at work and told them about Zendaya, and then they’d berated you to tell her. You remained adamant, though occasionally Aziza would text you and tell you that life would be much easier if she knew about the two of you.

“When I was a kid, I didn’t think I had a soulmate,” you started to explain shakily. “I never got any sort of writing on my body, you know? And I never had a planner, so I would always write on my arms or whatever.” You swallowed around the lump in your throat. “The only thing I’ve ever had on my body that was written by someone else was a message saying to stop writing on my skin, because my soulmate didn’t want to communicate, and I was being a burden. It… broke my heart.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Jade murmured, giving your shoulder a squeeze of compassion.

You wiped a stray tear away from your cheek. “So, I didn’t write on my skin again. I invested in really fancy planners and created a new habit. Eventually, I sort of moved past it, even though it hurt to know that my soulmate didn’t want anything to do with me. But then, I started this job, on The Greatest Showman. And I met Zendaya.

“As soon as I saw that list on her skin, I knew what I had to do. It hurts to keep it a secret, it really does. I thought it would be easy, you know? I figured that we wouldn’t get super close, but she’s said she’s drawn to me, and she drove me home, and now we’re friends. All I want,” you swallowed your tears back, “all I want is to be with her, to hold her close, to tell her. But I want her to be happy. Not communicating makes her happy. She doesn’t want anything to do with her soulmate, and I can’t change that. It just hurts,” you breathed out at the end.

“Y/N,” Jade began gently after a few moments of contemplation, “has she ever actually said she doesn’t want anything to do with her soulmate? Or has she just said she doesn’t want to communicate?”

You sighed again. “It doesn’t matter. By not wanting to communicate, she’s saying she doesn’t want to be with her soulmate.”

“But maybe she does, she just doesn’t want her job to be harder than it is. Covering up those soulmate messages is hard work. It takes a lot of makeup, and even then, it can still sometimes be seen. Maybe she wants to be with her soulmate, with you, she just doesn’t want the marks on her body making her life and everyone else’s lives on set, more difficult.”

You shook your head at her. “Jade, if she doesn’t want to communicate, she doesn’t want to communicate. She doesn’t want to be with her soulmate, with me, like that.”

“But you said so yourself, she’s said she’s drawn to you and doesn’t know why! Maybe if you told her—”

“I’m not telling her,” you all but growled, making your friend jump in surprise. You rarely lost your temper or your patience. Your glare softened as you looked at your slightly hurt friend. “Jade, I can’t do that to her. I want her to be happy. Not communicating makes her happy. That’s all I want. Please, just drop it, okay?”

Jade hesitated, an argument on her tongue, but at your pleading look, she nodded. “Okay, okay, I’ll drop it. But you deserve happiness too, Y/N.”

You smiled a bit brokenly. “I know, Jade. Thank you. Now, let’s go in. You said you wanted to get hammered.”

“Okay!” Jade agreed brightly. She unlocked the door and went to step out.

“Wait, Jade,” she turned to you, “please, keep it secret, okay? Promise me?” You held out your pinky to her.

The makeup artist chuckled at the gesture and wrapped her pinky around yours. “I promise that I’ll keep it secret, Y/N.”

“It’s what she wants,” you whispered to yourself as you got out of the car, absolutely not ready for this night of drunk people.

 Zendaya was already at the bar and when Jade entered with you on her tail, the actress let out a loud whoop and waved you over. You laughed at her antics and started over to the table; Jade put herself between you and Zendaya, who was chatting with Michelle Williams on her other side. After shooting Jade a thankful glance, she requested that you go grab her a drink from the bar.

Your thankful glance immediately turned suspicious and Jade raised her eyebrows in innocence. After quirking an eyebrow, you got her request and tried to maneuver to the bar. It was pretty packed and pretty loud, and you were already feeling out of place. You figured that after you had a drink and sat talking to your friends, you’d relax.

You ordered your grenadine fizz and Jade’s strawberry daiquiri, leaning against the bar patiently while you waited. As always, you were blending into the crowd. As much as you preferred to stay in, Aziza and Idrissa always forced you out (especially during college). Even though they usually didn’t drink alcohol and tried to be as close to their dietary restrictions, the siblings definitely lived by the “ask for forgiveness, not permission” quote.

They loved to make you order for them, though. Somehow, you were always able to slip through the very crowd you were blending into and arrive at the front of the bar, at the attention of the bartender. It made life go much faster than when Idrissa would always try to shove past people and get to the front of the bar.

As you leaned against the bar, reminiscing on your two best friends, you felt a hard body press against your back. There was hot breath by your ear and your hackles were immediately raised upon first contact.

“Hey, gorgeous,” the disgusting breath said into your ear. “What’s a beauty like you doing in a place like this?”

“Leave me alone,” you demanded steadily.

“C’mon, lighten up, let me get you a drink,” he sleazed.

As the unknown man’s hand slid up your body, you slammed your elbow back and into his stomach. Then you whirled around and pushed him back even farther than he’d stumbled back. He actually ended up crumbling right down to the floor, and you turned back to the bar, pretending to be completely unfazed as the drinks were passed to you.

Even though you were shaking and panicking deep inside your chest, you stepped around the still confused man and went towards the table. You became concerned when you didn’t see Jade sitting in her seat. Zendaya also wasn’t at the table, making you become more stressed because not seeing her meant she could touch you at any time.

“Y/N!” Jade suddenly appeared in front of you. “Oh my gosh, we saw the bastard at the bar and tried to get to you, are you okay?”

You blinked in surprise, honestly still shell shocked internally. In the middle of the crowded bar, you felt frozen.

Zendaya appeared next to Jade, the concern obvious on her face. “Hugh got that man off the floor and had him thrown out,” she informed you and Jade. “Are you okay, Y/N?”

That was what broke you. “N-no, fuck,” you stuttered, feeling your lungs begin to gallop as everything rushed back to you. You shoved the drinks into Jade’s hands and laced your hands through your hair, trying to not curl up since that would make breathing harder.

You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to relax your breathing. The amount of people around you was not helping. You were spiraling into sensory overload, and you found yourself yelling, “Nobody touch me!” over the music.

The bodies that had been pressing into you were suddenly moved away. Without the extra pressure around you, your lungs began to relax, and you felt yourself coming back to some semblance of normal.

“Y/N, breathe, you’re okay, you’re safe,” Zendaya’s voice said, close but not too close, and you felt your body relax even more at her soft tone.

You lowered your arms and opened your eyes to see Zendaya, Jade, Hugh, and Keala making a small circle around you. They were pushing people away so that you had enough space to calm down. It warmed your heart.

“I’m okay,” you breathed out. “I’m okay.”

Keala was immediately turned around and gently ushering you back to the table. She was a force to be reckoned with, reminding you of when you were taking care of others. Big bodies forcing their way through crowds with even louder voices, the voices of protectors, were always a force to be reckoned with. If people had the balls, that is.

You sat down in your seat and found Jade on one side and Keala on the other. Jade placed the drinks on the table, hers not even touched, and turned to you with a concerned look in her eyes. Zendaya was talking to Hugh a few feet away, but as always, you could feel her glances towards you.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Keala’s voice alerted you. Perhaps you were still slightly out of it, seeing as you had been distracted.

“Yeah, I’m a lot better.” You smiled weakly, an insincere chuckle on your tongue as you said, “I was compartmentalizing really well and then Z and Jade asked if I was okay, and then I wasn’t okay at all.”

“Sometimes that’s what happens,” Jade chimed in from behind you. Since you were talking and more obviously okay, she took a long drink from her daiquiri.

“Yeah,” Keala agreed, looking at you softly. She really was so kind, one of your favorite people on set. “But it’s okay. It’s okay that you panicked, okay?”

“I know, Keala,” you smiled sincerely this time. “Thank you for the reassurance.”

She gave you another smile before getting up and making her way to her original seat. Then, Zendaya appeared and plopped herself down into the chair that Keala had been occupying. Your unknowing soulmate looked at you critically.

“I’m okay,” you informed her strongly before she could ask.

Her bright smile warmed your heart and made you more okay.

The rest of the night, Jade and Zendaya didn’t leave your side. You didn’t leave your chair much, either. Jade went up to get her own drinks, and your single refill on your grenadine fizz, or Zendaya would get them. Even Hugh got them drinks once or twice, the large man completely comfortable with carrying colorful beverages where other men would complain loudly. He also brought pitchers of water for everyone.

It was still loud and packed, but the conversations with your friends? They were nice.

Soon, Jade was beginning to slur her words. She was also beginning to beg you to take her home so she could cuddle her cat (or her amazing soft beautiful baby, as she also referred to him). Thankfully, even in her tipsy-drunk state, she was respecting your personal space, because you still did not want to be touched without explicit permission. You were incredibly grateful that your friends were respecting your non-touching state.

You gathered Jade up and took her hand in yours (because you’d heard her tales of wandering off while drunk). After making sure all her stuff was with you, you quickly turned to the table and said your goodbyes. The people still at the table and not off dancing bid you ado and you began to push through the crowd towards the exit.

“Y/N, wait up!” Zendaya’s voice shouted from the table. You stopped, flinching when Jade ran into your back, and soon the actress appeared behind you.

“What’s up, Z?” you asked casually.

“I’ll walk you both out,” she stated without letting you argue.

You led the way out of the bar and the lack of chaotic noise was the best breath of fresh air you had experienced in your life. It was so nice that you let out a loud sigh of relief as you led Jade to the car, Zendaya following quietly.

You managed to stuff Jade into the car and turned back to see Zendaya closer than you anticipated. Her eyes were soft and maybe even flirty as she watched you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked you tenderly.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’m a lot better. It was,” you inhaled as you remembered what happened, “it was jarring. But I elbowed him in the stomach and honestly? That was pretty badass, if I do say so myself!”

Zendaya laughed and to you it almost sounded like faeries were laughing; that was how ethereal and gorgeous it sounded to you. “I saw it,” she informed you, a smirk on her lips. “You’re a beautiful badass, Y/N.”

Your blood pounded and you smiled sheepishly. “I have my moments,” you agreed.

Zendaya shook her head with a tender smile. “No,” she said, “you’re always a badass.” The actress seemed to hesitate for a moment. “I… noticed something.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“You let everyone touch you, when you’re in the mood for it, except for me…” Zendaya trailed off for a moment, looking at the ground with furrowed eyebrows. “Why is that? It’s not just a handful of times, either.”

Your heart managed to plummet to the ground and pump overtime simultaneously.

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 1999

A list with quite possibly the most embarrassing #1 yet, and considering some of the previous ones, that’s really saying something.

Also, a very, very long list of honorable mentions.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

This could have almost been a top fifteen, because holy f█cking shit look at this list of honorable mentions. I might eventually make a top 15 for some years (gosh I just finished my 2013 top and it’s a massacre of good songs, an absolute disaster, and I’m seriously considering making it a top 15 or 20 I swear), but for now, it’s still manageable.

Summer Son (Texas) - Why is this so hot. The lyrics aren’t even hot in the first place. What the hell.

That Don’t Impress Me Much (Shania Twain) - Not my favorite song from her but still very good. Fun fact, one of my English teachers was using songs as dictation exercises and that was the hardest one he ever used for that. I don’t think any of us got the Elvis line right. Also he’s solely responsible for me loving The Cure because the second song he used for this kind of exercise was Boys Don’t Cry. This has nothing to do with Shania Twain but I thought it was a fun little story to tell.

Jusqu’au Bout de la Nuit (Emile et Images) - Two French bands from the eighties team up and release a song which is composed of every single one of their hit songs from the eighties, with each chorus sung one after the other, and... it sounds great? And it charted?? My brother absolutely loved them, too. The only reason it’s not on the list is that it feels like cheating, in a way. I mean, half these songs could top some of my lists on their own. Putting them together is a dirty trick, guys! Oh well, I love you all anyway.

Baby One More Time (Britney Spears) - I really love this song and it was on the list at first, but overplay played a big role in its removal from it.

L’Ame Stram Gram (Mylène Farmer) - Has the privilege of being the first Mylène Farmer music video I ever saw in my life. Was incredibly confused but also fascinated. The song isn’t her best though, and she’s on so many of these lists that I claim self care on its removal from this one, especially because, uh... she’s still gonna appear on it anyway. Damn it.

Move Your Body (Eiffel 65) - I told you I loved stupid dance music didn’t I. Unfortunately things aren’t gonna get better as years pass. I just made a list (which is gonna be posted muuuuuuch later) where I put David Guetta six places higher than Adele. This isn’t a joke.

Save Tonight (Eagle Eye Cherry) - I genuinely love this song and it’s kinda sad I couldn’t fit it on any of the two lists where it was elligible.

La Manivelle (Wazoo) - This would NEVER have charted if La Tribu de Dana by Manau hadn’t been such an enormous hit the previous year. Not in a million years. And if it hadn’t, the world would have been a little less fun. So I’m glad. I love it and it was one of the last cuts from this list.

Kiss Me (Sixpence None the Richer) - Was also on the list at first. Was removed because it never ended on any compilation I made and that’s the only reason.

Well, that was long. Here’s the proper list.

10 - Crazy (Britney Spears)

US: Not on the list?? I was very surprised / FR: #14

So I dug up the first cd compilations I ever made for the previous list, and look what’s the first song on the third compilation I ever made!

Relistened to it, still love it to bits, put it on the list. Sorry Kiss Me.

9 - All Star (Smash Mouth)

US: #17 / FR: Not on the list

I know it’s impossible to listen to it with fresh ears after something like 15 years of memes. But it’s still damn good and a ton of fun to sing along with it.

8 - Ma Baker 99 (Boney M)

US: Not on the list / FR: #66

Where’s that photo of the cd compilation I mentioned in the previous list?

There it is.

Yep, it’s a remix, but it charted here, and it sounds and looks absolutely fantastic. I had never heard the original at the time for some reason, and that song sounded so badass. I could only understand isolated bits of the lyrics (like “she was the meanest cat in all Chicago town”, “the cops appeared too soon they couldn’t get away”, “she never could cry”) but it was enough to get a general idea, and that was back when I was starting to realise than most of the dance songs I enjoyed as a kid didn’t tell stories and weren’t about wizards and magic. So, a song about a mean woman who’s also a gangster?? I was like, wow, nice, a song I like with an actual story, give me twenty.

7 - Boom Boom Boom Boom (Vengaboys)

US: Not on the list / FR: #20

Told you I loved Vengaboys! It’s also on that third cd compilation I ever made!

Fun fact, at the time, for a while I didn’t know what the lyrics were and since I only knew a couple of words of English I was convinced a “broom” was somehow involved in the lyrics instead of a “room”.

6 - Souviens-toi du jour (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #73

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again ; I used to be a huge fan of her as a teenager and my brain somehow links her and her songs in general to some dark times in my life - and so, every single time she appears on one of my lists, I feel like I’m texting an unstable ex and that things will end horribly and I probably shouldn’t do that but, ugh, can’t help it, love her too much.

Ok so the first seconds are actually painful to listen to but holy shit, that’s a beautiful, beautiful song. When the chorus swells near the end, so full of hope and light? Amazing. Chills on my arms every single time. That’s from one of her best albums, too. I have nothing more to say about it.

5 - Better Off Alone (Alice Deejay)

US: Not on the list / FR: #30

I don’t have anything to say about this one apart from the fact one of my friends around 2005 thought the lyrics were “do you think you’re better? rofl lol” and I think that’s hilarious.

Moving on to- oh shit oh no not that song

4 - Je te rends ton amour (Mylène Farmer)

US: Not on the list / FR: #97

What I said in #6 also applies here and this song is so dark it feels even worse. That song used to be very important in my life. Bad memories, bad times. Really, really bad times.

So. Uh. This is a song about a woman in a painting, who’s despising her creator, and possibly (that’s very, very open to interpretation, here’s a translation) coming out of her frame to kill him. That’s quite possibly the weirdest story I’ve ever heard in a song, and I love it. And it sounds so sinister. God, the first notes. They are so ominous. And that brief moment of silence after the bridge, right before the guitar explodes again? Horrible chills. I’m not sure who killed who or what actually happened in the story but press F to pay respects.

Also the music video has nothing to do with the lyrics and it’s absolutely terrifying and I shouldn’t have watched this at 14 because it’s kinda burned into my mind now and it will never go away and you probably shouldn’t watch it either.

If it wasn’t so inextricably linked to bad memories, this song would be #2. I still love it and listen to it but I kinda jump like a scared rabbit whenever I hear it by surprise and it should come with its own trigger warning as far as I’m concerned.

3 - Narcotic (Liquido)

US: Not on the list / FR: #99

This is barely elligible. But I’m so, so glad it is. These chords right there? Love them. Love. Them.

Also here’s a fun story about this song and me. At first, I was like “oh wow, I can only understand one word out of five, but this sounds badass.” Then a couple of years later I was like “oh. Oh no. It’s about drugs.” And THEN a few years later I was like “oh shit oh no. It’s about sex.” But no, now that I can understand everything, it’s just a breakup song. It’s okay.

2 - Where I’m headed (Lene Marlin)

US: Not on the list / FR: #24

Ok so. Uh. I just realised this song was called Where I’m headed and not, as I believed for literally 18 years, “Pass By”. I had never checked. I have it on several tapes and several cd compilations, always labelled Pass By. It’s also called Pass By on the mp3 I still have in my playlist. I know I’m in the wrong here and probably never checked what the title was but I still feel like there’s been a glitch in the matrix. What happened.

Anyway. Fantastic song. Love it.

Now let’s embarrass myself beyond all hopes of redemption.

1 - Blue (Eiffel 65)

US: Not on the list (...yet. #49 in 2000) / FR: #2

So. Uh. Yeah.

Blue by Eiffel 65 was, for a long, long, LONG time, my favorite song ever.

See? This is one of my oldest lists of favorite songs.

Another one from several months later.

A cd compilation of my favorite songs ever, which I made around 2003 or 2004 as well, with a booklet with lyrics entirely copied by hand and with every page painstakingly illustrated with panels and characters from my favorite comic at the time, Horologiom.

You open the booklet, and look at that, Blue is the second song right after Children.

This silly song which lists blue things and has a nonsensical chorus and one of the dumbest music videos of the entire 90s was, indeed, for years, my favorite song ever. Why. How. Well, first, please remember I am, in fact, a sucker for dance music and electronic music ESPECIALLY when a piano is involved, but this isn’t at all why this song was special to me (and still is, actually).

As I already mentioned, music has colors to me and guess what’s the dominant color of this song? Yepppppp. This is one of the bluest songs ever made even if there’s a little black, yellow and green here and there - the only song I can think about right now which out-blues it is Derezzed by Daft Punk.

And I can’t even begin to explain how SATISFYING a blue song called “Blue” listing blue things and which has an extremely blue music video is.

I know. It’s an embarrassing #1 even for 1999. It took me a long time to post this list partly for this reason. But I wouldn’t be honest if it was placed at any other position. It’s stupid, it’s repetitive, it’s meaningless. I absolutely love it and I’ve loved it for twenty years.

Deal with it.

Next up: the year when I actually started to buy cds with my own money, with debatable results.

[bonerpillz-blog]

You Never Really Loved Me - Reddie

One year anniversaries are always supposed to be filled with love and celebration. Not heartache and the loss of someone you never saw something like this coming from…

hey guys so originally i was going to make this a stenbrough oneshot (bc i love my gay sons and they are underrated) but my friend convinced me to make this a reddie oneshot instead soooooo i hope that’s okay. i will 100% be writing some stenbrough stuff soon!

also, a quick thank you for 150 followers wow i love you all

i hope you enjoy this! -E

Warnings - swearing, cheating

Word Count - 2.3k

1 year.

In 5 days, Eddie and Richie’s one year anniversary would be present.

The two boys had been friends for years and on Eddie’s 17th birthday, Richie had brought him on a drive to nowhere in particular. They laughed and talked and listened to music and at the end of the night, laying in the back of Richie’s pick up truck, Richie had asked Eddie to be his boyfriend.

The two had never really discussed their feelings for one another, they just knew that something was there. Something more.

About a month or so later, they shared their first kiss. They were hidden up in Eddie’s room behind a locked door reading comic books and giggling about nothing in particular. Eddie couldn’t recall how it happened or who made the first move thanks to the fact that all he could focus on was the anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach. Before he knew it though, Richie’s hand was on the back of Eddie’s head, gripping his hair. Eddie never really understood how people didn’t think kissing was gross, but this was the furthest thing from.

They mutually agreed to keep their relationship a secret for awhile, not wanting to deal with the losers constantly bothering them about it. They’d hold hands under blankets, and exchange quick kisses when no one was looking.

7 months in, Richie told Eddie that he loved him.

Once again they were partaking in one of their favorite activities, other than making out of course. Richie sped down the empty backroad, Eddie not even protesting. He was too busy screaming the lyrics to Jessie’s Girl as the wind from the rolled down windows blew through brown hair. Richie was smiling like an idiot, letting out a laugh here and there.

And she's watching him with those eyes

And she's loving him with that body, I just know it

Yeah 'n' he's holding her in his arms late, late at night

Eddie was happy and Richie could see it as the words flew past the shorter boy’s lips.

Richie even joined Eddie, screaming the lyrics to the chorus with him.

I wish that I had Jessie's girl

I wish that I had Jessie's girl

Where can I find a woman like that

Eddie stopped singing, laughing at Richie. Not to make fun of him but because he couldn’t imagine how much greater this could be. Eddie couldn’t wish for anything better than Richie.

Richie looked away from the road and right into Eddie’s already staring eyes. “I love you, ya know,” he stated as if it were the simplest thing to say.

Eddie’s eyes widened. “You- you love me?”

Richie just nodded. He didn’t need Eddie to say it back if he wasn’t ready, he just needed him to know. But Eddie did say it back. In fact, he cried it back. Tears streaming down his face as the music continued, wrapping them into their own little world.

Richie gave a big, toothy grin, pulling Eddie over to him and wrapping his arms around his shoulders as he continued to drive and sing into Eddie’s ear.

10 months. 10 months is when Richie made a mistake he vowed to never make again.

Richie was home alone, something he was luckily able to do often. He was sat on the couch in the living room watching one of the Nightmare on Elm Street movies though he didn’t pay attention to which one it was.

He wasn’t paying too much attention so when the doorbell rang, he heard it right away.

Richie groaned, getting up from the couch to get the door. He wasn’t expecting Eddie today, he was stuck at home with his mom.

Richie opened the door, rubbing his eye with his sweatshirt covered palm to see a crying Stan. His hand dropped to his side, instantly skeptical about the situation.

“Stan? What are you doing here?” Richie questioned, still completely confused as to why Stan was at his house and more so, why was Stan crying at his house?

“Can I come in?” Stanley asked, a little too quiet.

Richie furrowed his eyebrows. “Am I being pranked?”

“Bill’s busy so I came to you but if you’re just going to make jokes as always then you can fuck off.” Stan replied, attempting to sound angry but failing.

Richie shook his head, stepping aside. “No no it’s fine I just wasn’t expecting this. Come on in.”

Richie watched the weak looking boy step inside, not moving other than the slight shakiness of his figure. He closed the door and pulled Stan slowly to the couch, sitting down with him.

Richie wasn’t used to comforting his friends - or anyone for that matter. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do but he knew he had to be serious as Stanley never showed up at his house like this.

“What’s going on?” Richie asked, deciding to keep his questions simple.

Stan sniffled before letting out another sob, only able to speak the words, “My dad.”

Richie instantly knew what Stanley was talking about. Stanley had never told him directly but Richie knew that because Stanley was Jewish, his father refused to accept the fact that his son was gay. Stanley always went to Bill during situations like this, but as Stan said, Bill was busy today.

Richie wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing so instead, he just pulled Stanley into a hug, wrapping his arms around the crying boy’s neck and holding on tight. He could feel Stanley’s sobs against his own body and it broke Richie’s heart to see his friend this way. Richie closed his eyes, rubbing small circles in Stanley’s back until he finally began to calm down.

The room was filled with a silence, thankfully not uncomfortable. Stanley pulled away, wiping his eyes with the palms of his hands. “Sorry about that.” He murmured.

“It’s okay.” Richie replied plainly.

It was silent again but this time they just sort of stared at each other, neither of them knowing what to say or do next.

Richie cleared his throat, “Well if you wanna stay you ca-“

Richie was cut off by Stanley’s lips crammed against his. Richie didn’t kiss back, instead sitting there with wide eyes until Stanley pulled away, a blush instantly rising to his face. “Fuck I’m- Oh god I’m sorry I- I should go.” Stanley stammered over his words, standing up to leave but Richie had other plans.

He stood, grabbing Stanley’s arm and pulling him back, pressing his lips to Stanley's once again only this time, Richie knew exactly what was going on. He wasn’t even thinking about Eddie, about his boyfriend of 10 months. He was only thinking about Stanley.

Richie pulled them both backward, collapsing onto the couch once again with Stanley straddling Richie’s hips. Their lips didn’t break apart once, in fact, their kiss was now deeper. Tongues were exploring mouths, hands were all over skin and tangled between hair.

Richie’s heart pinged against his rib cage, feeling about ready to explode.

Richie never once thought about Eddie.

Richie avoided Stanley after that. He eventually realized what he did was wrong and that he could never let it happen again. He needed to tell Eddie. He needed to tell his boyfriend.

He found himself walking to the entrance of the school as soon as the final bell rung, not even waiting for Beverly to meet him outside of his last class. Richie was steps away from the glass double doors when he was pulled aside into a nearby classroom by the one and only, Stanley Uris.

Stanley looked pissed, understandably. 10 months into Richie and Eddie’s relationship and they still hadn’t told a soul.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” Stanley asked, once again trying to sound angry but Richie could hear the hurt in his voice.

Richie gulped. He couldn’t speak. Why couldn’t he tell Stanley about his relationship with Eddie? Eddie, the boy he loved.

“You’re really not going to say anything?” Stanley scoffed, shaking his head and making his way back to the door. “I wish I could say that was typical.”

Richie stopped him before his hand hit the doorknob, his hand on Stanley’s shoulder. “I’m sorry I just-“ Richie squeezed his eyes shut, gripping Stanley’s shoulder a bit tighter at the same time. “Eddie and I have been dating for about ten months now.” Richie said though it was more of a jumbled mess.

Stanley turned around, eyes wide. “You- you what?”

Richie nodded, pulling his hand away and placing it back at his side.

“I- So- Did you only kiss me because you felt sorry for me….” Stanley trailed off at the end of his sentence, the hurt evident in his voice once again, even more, this time.

“No!” Richie exclaimed, causing Stanley to jump a bit, “No I really really wanted to kiss you but-“

“But you can’t do that to Eddie. I get it.” Stanley finished Richie’s sentence for him and Richie felt a pang of guilt beat against his chest and not because he cheated on Eddie, but because he wanted to again.

And he did.

Richie Tozier cheated on his boyfriend for the second time in a science classroom.

Richie and Stan continued to see each other behind Eddie’s back. Richie told himself over and over to just tell Eddie, to just break his heart but he couldn’t. Richie was a coward.

1 year. Today was Eddie and Richie’s one year anniversary, though Richie had completely forgotten.

Eddie wanted to surprise the boy he’d fallen in love with over the course of the past 365 days. Yes, it was Eddie’s birthday, but Eddie was more than willing to treat Richie for the day instead.

Eddie didn’t have much money saved up from his new job. Most of the money he did manage to get his mother just took for bullshit he didn’t need but he had managed to keep some hidden.

He bought Richie a handmade woven bracelet, manly enough for Richie to not make feminine jokes. Eddie spent the majority of his saved earnings on adding a sort of charm with the date of their anniversary engraved into it.

It was perfect, like Richie.

Because Richie deserved the world.

Richie was home alone once again only this time, Stanley was underneath him. Richie’s lips were placed on Stanley’s neck, leaving wet open-mouthed kisses against the skin. Stanley couldn’t help but softly moan Richie’s name which made Richie feel incredible.

He never thought about Eddie.

Eddie strolled up the front path to Richie’s house. Nothing could break his spirits today. He felt butterflies rise in his stomach as he knocked on the door, taking a step and a half back and waiting, a smile on prominent on his small face.

But the smile fell when his gaze made its way to the window, an all too clear view of Richie and Stan on the couch.

Eddie felt his heart not only crack but shatter. Shatter into a million pieces. It felt as though the pieces were piercing into the insides of his chest, bleeding him out and he didn’t even care.

He watched Richie move to get the door. He watched Richie stop in his tracks when he saw the broken boy outside. He watched Richie’s face fall and he took a few more steps back before running down the pathway.

Richie ran after him, his long legs making it easy to catch up with the smaller boy and grabbed his arm, yanking him backward.

Eddie wasn’t speaking, he was sobbing.

“Eds I’m so fuckin’ sor-“

“SAVE IT,” Eddie interrupted, ripping his arm out of Richie’s grasp and moving away from him, “Fucking save it.”

“Ed’s please I-“

“Don’t FUCKING CALL ME THAT!” Eddie screamed, throwing the box that was in his hand at Richie as hard as he could.

Richie didn’t even realize what it was that Eddie threw, he just tried to talk. “Eddie please let me explain I-“ Richie took a step forward, Eddie moving back once more, “I love you. Please.”

Eddie laughed. He laughed through the tears pouring down his now burning skin. “You love me?” Love was emphasized way too much for Richie’s liking though he knew he deserved this. “You don’t fucking love me! You don’t even get to say that now!”

Richie stayed silent, forcing the lump in his throat to stay down.

Eddie continued. “You were fucking everything to me and you cheated. You fucking cheated! You gave yourself to someone else after telling me you fucking loved me!” Eddie was full on hyperventilating now, but Richie knew not to touch him, “I fell in love with you! I gave you every fucking piece of me and now, worst of all I fucking trusted you.” Eddie was forcing breaths out of his lungs, his body violently shaking.

Richie stood there, completely shocked. He never thought this would happen though in the back of his mind the possibility was always there. “Eddie when I said I loved you I meant-“

“No.” Eddie wouldn’t let Richie speak though all he wanted to hear Richie do was cry. Cry and beg for his forgiveness. For how sorry he was but Eddie knew that Richie wasn’t sorry because if he was, he would’ve been honest with him from the start. “Fuck you, Richie. Have fun with your fuck buddy I hope he makes you the happiest fucking asshole on the planet.”

With that, Eddie spun around and walked off and Richie didn’t even chase him. He looked down, eyeing the box laying on the wet sidewalk and picked it up, rubbing his thumb over the texture of the cardboard. He felt his eyes prickle with tears as he opened it, the charm on the bracelet glimmering in the afternoon sun.

1 year.

i hope you guys enjoyed this.... i kinda hate myself for it lmao

[sordidpassionsandlockedemotions]

~Tis the season for winter fics~

Based on songs x,x

The first time Magnus heard a trace of music was when his boyfriend was texting with his siblings and there was this loud noise for a few seconds followed by the audible noise of ‘seriously Max’. Probably mainly meant just for himself more than anything course Magnus heard it because had been returning with a book from his office. 

Second was when he was about to knock on the Institute office’s door some distant music along with the sound of Alec shoving his phone into a drawer. He didn’t ask what was going on didn’t see a reason to probably some odd holiday thing or prank between the Lightwood children. Instead just stuck with the usual knocking,poking his head in and saying hello. Followed by eventually a kiss once his boyfriend was up and close to him. 

Happened again several times but the most memorable was when he sat on the couch chatting with the other and Isabelle poked her head into the office shouting the words,”Sunshine on my shoulders!” Followed by a groan from his boyfriend but a slight smile at the same time before he got up with a pillow to smack his sister with eventually returning from whatever dropping back onto the couch. 

“To explain Max revived some dumb Christmas songs in a group text,making fun of how I hate most holiday songs then we’ve all descended into madness because it provides entertainment.” Alec ran a hand through his own hair blowing air dramatically out of his mouth. “New tradition I suppose anyways Izzy likes shouting the lyrics at me to get me to sing along with her also was hiding from Jace who she changed all his ringtones to different parts of them.” Could tell Magnus found it slightly amusing even if was probably still strange to witness their antics even be involved sometimes because he was basically family after all everybody kept asking Alec when they’d get engaged somehow. 

Later that night Alec pulled out his phone while they were snuggled up onto the couch. Opening up his stash of Christmas music which got some chuckles at the basic rock versions with little add ins of normal ones but almost singing along to the start of the first current Lightwood song choices of antics. Then a very confused expression shifting into a face palm hearing the lyrics,change of song. By the last one Alec was only barely holding in the urge to sing along as song two started. Meanwhile his boyfriend was shaking his head a little but the light in his eyes clearly said found it amusing. 

They finished their drinks snuggling up closer turning on whatever choice of movie Magnus wanted since it was his night which was fine with Alec as turned his phone on silent setting it aside. 

Alec’s little brother,mother was back in New York for the holidays so his boyfriend texted saying might not be able to have dinner but would certainly be back earlier in the night than most nights. It was the next day when Magnus stopped by the morning had been shorter than most because the small look in Alec’s eyes that spoke of guilt over what happened to his little brother so he wanted to go there earlier to spend time. Unlike Magnus who merely just wanted a bit of time,provide distraction a bit when he halted outside the open door instead of knocking on the frame to poke his head in hearing voices. 

“Max let it go you’re the youngest of course there’s fuss when you nearly die twice one of us has to be redeemable we all know that’s you.” It was clearly a sort of joke that dry humor his boyfriend had sometimes,”Besides welcome to the group we’ve all gone through it except you’re talking the one sibling who hardly got the gentle fussing.” The sound of a pillow being thrown and caught Magnus wasn’t really eavesdropping just really didn’t want to interrupt,or go back through the crowds of Shadowhunters around to leave.

“Fine whatever so I heard your boyfriend’s joining us for swapping presents.” A raised brow hearing that bit of information from the younger Lightwood. “I mean if you asked him yet swear I’ll be on my best behavior besides I even got him a gift because you know family now even if nobody expected you to get a serious relationship first personally thought Izzy but then again you really set high standards again.” 

“I’ve been meaning to ask him and normally I’d worry over that but alright cool probably a better gift than what I got I bet.” A pause before his boyfriend spoke again,”Yeah sorry menace to society if could skip your usual fuss about missing my almost wedding,and being slightly out of loop so far away.” 

“Well Alec you’re a dork so probably got something mediocre and hey you should’ve had me there also yes it’s annoying because you could have been engaged I’d only know via gossip or mom.” 

“I would let you know kiddo and right well can be there whenever if I get married to Magnus look forward to you fighting with Jace over who gets to help out.” 

Finally Magnus knocked on the frame walking in,”Hey Alexander,Max.” Alec stood up tossing the pillow onto the couch. Walking up to him meanwhile Max just gave a slight wave before focusing back on the phone in his hand probably playing a game by the looks of it.

“Hey Magnus.” Wrapping an arm around him hugging him briefly maybe unsure about kissing him per usual but then gave him a peck. Magnus was still a bit lost in the thoughts of being invited to their family get together,the way the two spoke of him,and that little bit about the two of them getting married. “Guess should ask you in person now if you are down for the family gift swap really just an excuse to eat cookies,candy and not work for a night.” 

Max was paying attention but playing uninterested on his phone while the two talked about it then Alec had to leave to deal with something real quick just leaving them in silence till Max sat up staring a moment,”Never did say sorry for the way I acted to you when you threw my party which thanks it was cool,and for helping with me after what happened.” Going quiet a moment before playing with his phone again,”Also for making Alec happier which is whatever.”

“It’s fine and you’re welcome though really that last bit’s a fair amount his doing more than anything.”

They were lounging around the loft Magnus had decided to change up some of the decorations around meanwhile Alec was just texting with his siblings on his phone mainly to make sure the three of them weren’t causing too much chaos which considering the highlight of the conversation was Max’s swearing he did not touch Clary’s art supplies relatively tame. Up until the other three grew uncharacteristically silent leaving Alec to wonder if they were all plotting something. 

With an eye roll put his phone aside standing up head hovering near his boyfriend’s shoulder then wrapping his arms around Magnus’ waist. Then couldn’t help himself,”Out of the darkness and into the sun-somehow I forgot it’s snow I’m made from.” Singing it in a whisper next to his boyfriend’s ear okay bit cruel but Magnus only seemed slightly started before deciding to return the favor. 

“Why are there so many songs about snowmen.” 

Hardly lasted very long before they both collapsed on the couch going from messing around,laughing to a conversation about Christmas presents which honestly somehow the two went together easily.

Alec was as close to Magnus could be walking through the portal to the Institute bit worrying about the family get together but wouldn’t be a chronic over thinker if he didn’t.  The arm draped around him pulled him a bit closer Magnus kissing his head,”So Alexander any organization to this or in Lightwood fashion is it just chaos?” He stuck his tongue out at the teasing but had to think for a moment before answering. 

“Depends but I think Izzy’s got it all figured out otherwise may just do the general assemble the one’s for each person together or hand them over I honestly have no clue.” Once at the steps just grabbed his boyfriend’s hand tugging him into the Institute past various Shadowhunters exiting,entering into the main area grateful for the warmth inside as opposed to the weather they just walked through. “Never been the lead expert should go without saying most involvement I had was when they were little and became the reason we do it later in the night instead of early morning or whatever.” 

Everybody exchanged hello’s Alec glanced over at Jace,”Thought you invited Clary?” 

“She had plans I of course will collect any presents for her since have permission to put them in her room.” Izzy rolled her eyes meanwhile Max hardly glanced up from his phone but eventually the trio stopped bickering mainly when a pillow nearly caught air.

The presents were pretty small or just little things of course Alec wound up with the obligatory something related to grumpy cat would have to glare at Simon for introducing his siblings to that. Then just this or that Alec of course got Max a good amount of comics,Izzy some phone case she’d been hinting at,and Jace a new holster because his last one had gotten wrecked.  

The real highlights was Max handing his gifts to Magnus and Alec which boxes opened to reveal two necklaces. Some lesser used runes made of metal on leather necklace cords both went together and supposed were also protection oriented. “I made them technically even fit together make another rune though when that’s the case.” Only explanation he offered before going back to flipping through the comic he had picked out to read. 

“Thanks Max course when did mom let you near the equipment to do such a thing?” His mother looked like she had no idea meanwhile Max just gave a shrug muttering something about a fireplace,using runes,and some allowance spent. But quickly forgotten about in the various chatter,gifts being swapped. Jace thought a moment before smacking a bow rather violently on Alec before pushing him a bit towards Magnus. 

“My yearly good deed didn’t get you two presents because all I have to offer is a very begrudgingly remark that you two are actually not terrible together.” Alec smacked Jace with a pillow which then prompted in the two bickering,Izzy chatting with Magnus,and Max debating with his mother about if he had to have a curfew. Eventually things settled down again but then it didn’t last long because while Magnus was opening a gift from Alec not the biggest one,or last one but something he’d already wrapped so you know the moment the scarf was visible Max muttered probably his best remark of the night. 

“Owner of a perfect scarf.”

Alec hardly even could glance at his brother before he with a smug smile scooped up all his presents,”NIGHT!” Shouting then running out of the room with also a good amount of candy,some cookies probably not actually going to bed but rather making an exit. There was some laughter but then Alec’s mother figured she should go make sure he does go to bed. Leaving just the four of them and only Alec left without one last gift from Magnus. Who with a flash of magic produced a pretty big box which made Alec wonder what possibly could have been inside. 

Opening it to his bow,and quiver raising a brow curiously meanwhile Izzy began to snicker a bit before coughing as inhaled some hot chocolate. “My bow and quiver Magnus?” Holding them in his hands to see if anything was different but not that he could really tell. Having completely forgotten about the deal he had made ages ago with his boyfriend. 

“Technically were mine they’re all yours again and I added some enchantments should fire faster,the quiver holds more arrows too.” Ah hugging Magnus gratefully before setting them down after that was the clean up and just chatter of sorts till Alec’s energy wore down to being almost dead asleep against his boyfriend which led to joking protests that the two of them should just leave. One portal followed by Alec not even taking a minute to wind up in bed stuff all piled in a corner tugging Magnus into bed with him. Then passing out after a very murmured I love you to Magnus. 

Who was up just a while longer thinking about things before closing his eyes to fall asleep. Realizing just as he drifted off if you put the runes together in a certain way made the marriage rune so apparently now Isabelle aside,even Max was certain they were that meant for each other apparently.