#NO BUT HONEST i would LOVE to have a jellyfish cut BUT AT THE SAME TIME… long hair would be hella pretty too

[forourtomorrows]

the urge to cut my hair the shortest possible. but also the urge to have long and pretty hair so that my curls can look great.

[wriothesleysgf]

𖹭 ࣪ 𓈒 ⊹ cough syrup — wriothesley ₊ ◌ ۪ ࣪

ᝰ .ᐟ ꩜ fortress of meropide gets intense cold spells, but everything is bearable when you have a loving man to keep you warm. ⟢ [ f ! reader , sfw . ]

fall always came with a shift towards colder weather. the leaves began to brown and the sweet tunes of fontaine's songbirds were carried by gentle gales. then winter snuck up ever so unsuspectingly; divination experts and meteorologists alike began to predict snowfall, and the court's streets became bustling with those preparing for the upcoming holidays. you, however, were rarely privy to any of this.

such an infatuation with the lord of meropide meant that you spent a significant portion of your year in the ocean's depths. although you'd initially been terrified of the deep sea and what unknowns lurked there, wriothesley quelled your fears and managed to enlighten you as to the true beauty of life down here. whether it was watching the jellyfish float about or cheering on up and coming fighters in the pankration ring, the man truly managed to make you feel at home all the way down here.

the one thing that you'd never managed to get used to, however, was the damn cold. sure, you'd experienced the same transformation in weather when you were living in the overworld, but such a change was more intense down here. wriothesley was accustomed to it after all of his years in the fortress so it took him a second to realize why you opted to stay bundled up in the warm sheets of the bed that you shared.

"doll, is everything okay?" he asked, looking over at you as he picked out his shirt for the day— it would surprise some how many greyscale button ups he owned.

"mhm," you hummed, not wanting to worry the man before he headed off to deal with the necessary duties for the day. however, once he heard the small sneezes coming from you, he noticed what was most likely going on.

"you cold, baby?" he cooes, finding your small nod adorable. you were buried in the sheets at this point, with only your eyes peeking over the top of your pile of blankets.

wriothesley wasted not a moment in striding back over to you. he lifted the blankets and came directly to you, wrapping his large arms around your figure and pulling you into his broad chest. though many assume those with cryo visions tend to run on the chillier side, wriothesley's size and stature had him radiating a fair amount of heat at all times.

"you're freezing," he comments.

"'s so cold down here... i thought i'd get used to it but... clearly not."

he chuckles softly, walking back towards the bed. he shrugs off his coat and removes his boots before sitting down next to you. "come here, love," he pats his thighs.

you oblige, crawling into his lap. of course, the pile of blankets come with you. wriothesley finds it absolutely adorable. he fawned over you, ensuring that the blankets were positioned to perform at peak efficiency. he did debate running ti the infirmary to see if sigewinne had any hot water bottles that he could borrow, but couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone for a second.

"bless you, doll," he cooes as you sneeze once again. wriothesley reaches over to his waistcoat, retrieving a small hankerchief from his pocket. to be honest, it was rare that he needed to use it himself, rather keeping the object on him at all times should you ever require it. "why don't you try to sleep, sweetheart? i'm not going anywhere,"

"but what about-" you tried to protest, knowing he most likely has work that he needs to tend to.

however, before you could even finish, he cuts you off in one of the most caring tones that only few were privy to. "you're always my priority, princess. everything else can wait; i guess that's a perk of being the warden," he chuckles softly.

you decide to not protest, curling into wriothesley's lap and resting your head on him. it was quite easy to doze off with the combination of his hand against your hair and the lullaby of his heartbeat.

© kentofairy — please do not copy, translate, or repost any of my posts. this includes posting to wattpad / tiktok or other platforms.

[waltwhitmansbeard]

Person A and person B accidentally giving each other flowers at the same time.

Dealer's choice as to whom :)

13. Person A and person B accidentally giving each other flowers at the same time. i'm at the beginning of fjord's arc in c2 so let's have a lil fjorester on this sunday afternoon

Fjord knows that he could be better with the whole romance thing. Well, he thinks he's romantic, but Jester has standards—which she should, because Jester is wonderful and deserves to be reminded of that fact as often as possible. But sometimes Fjord forgets the reminding part. He is trying to be better.

Which is why he's particularly proud of himself when spots a little florist as he comes back from the market one morning and thinks, Jester would like some flowers. Hell yeah, Jester would love some flowers. He buys a bouquet with the most varieties he can find, knowing that Jester appreciates color and chaos, and has a spring in his step as he saunters back to the little house beneath the water tower.

When he pushes in, a basket of food in one hand and the bouquet in the other, his cheerful "Oh Jester!" is cut off as he sees a different bouquet of flowers, a oceanic collection of blues and greens, waiting on the tiny dining table. He sets the basket down on the kitchen counter and looks at the flowers, confused.

"You're home!" He turns around to see Jester bounding in from outside, a few more flowers in her hands. "I thought I had more time!" She slips the flowers, sea foam green and white, into the bouquet, and then squeals when she sees the blooms in Fjord's hand. "Oh Fjord, you remembered!"

Panic floods through Fjord like seawater. "I...yes, I did."

He absolutely did not.

She bounces up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. "I thought you would have forgotten." Without waiting for him to offer them to her, she plucks the bouquet from his hands and bounds deeper into the little house, searching for another vase. "It isn't one of our more important anniversaries, I know, but still, it's one of my favorites."

Oh no. Fjord begins wracking his brain, running through a catalogue of every moment Jester could be referring to. One of the hardest things about dating Jester—not that there are many, of course, because there aren't—is her tendency to make a holiday out of everything, including anniversaries of each and every significant moment in their relationship. Clearly she thinks the flowers he bought on a whim are meant to commemorate some moment he absolutely cannot remember, and he wonders how long he can bluff his way through this.

"Well, you know, I know how much it means to you, Jessie." He begins to put away his market purchases, hoping he can hide his face so as not to give himself away.

"Ah hah!" Jester holds up an old jelly jar, which she'd been planning on using to hold water for her paintbrushes. She sticks the bouquet inside and takes it to the sink. "You're so romantic, Fjord. Just like that night! So beautiful and quiet. I really felt like that was the first time we really understood each other, y'know?"

He very much does not, but he sticks his head in a cabinet to avoid her eyes. "Yep. Sure do."

"Fjord."

He fights a sigh as he turns to look at her. The jelly jar has been filled with water and the flowers sit on the counter. Jester stands just beside him, hands on her hips, an all-too-familiar mischievous twinkle in her eye. "You have no idea what day it is, do you?"

His shoulders slump. "I...do not, no."

She rolls her eyes and kisses his cheek again. "You are not very hard to see through, Captain Tusktooth. But you make up for it by being very sweet." She buries her nose in the flowers. "They are wonderful, especially since you got them just because."

He grins, wrapping his arms around her. "You're not mad at me for forgetting...?"

"The jellyfish bloom!" she supplies, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "The first night we after stole the Mistake! When we were on watch together!"

If he's being honest, Fjord barely remembers what she's talking about, but if it means so much to her, it must have been quite the night. "Of course. How could I forget?"

"Mmm, because you're not very smart." She pecks his lips. "Very handsome, though!"

He rolls his eyes. "Alright, alright, you can objectify me later. I've got to head down the docks to check on a shipment."

And so he leaves her, adjusting the two bouquets so they nestle in together on the dining table, and as he strides through Nicodranas on this warm, sunny morning, he wonders how the toothless orphan from no one and nowhere ended up in a place like this with a girl like her.

[missyourflight]

would love director’s commentary on the part of “all creatures wild and tame” where Daniel comes up to Max on the truck to ask if he’s done sex stuff —> their first hook up!!!! I love that fic sooooooo much 🥰🦑

ty liza!! 🦑🦑🦑

On the drivers parade truck in Jeddah, Daniel comes to stand next to Max and says, “So have you done, like, sex stuff?” the people need to know!

Max looks around quickly, but there’s nobody near them.

“Mate, shut up,” he says anyway. i don't love the dialogue in this little section but like, Mate as like an assertion of how totally platonic he's feeling etc

“I don’t mean, like, ever,” Daniel goes on, “I know you’re a man of the world, I just –”

He wafts his arms like he’s a jellyfish or something; he’s holding a GoPro that Max really hopes is not turned on. “Do they jizz?” really important to establish a) do they jizz b) what's the slick situation

“I don’t know,” Max hisses.

“But you’ve seen porn.”

“Of course not with real –”

Max cuts himself off, frustrated, and Daniel leans in, says, “Don’t you want to find out?” BRING BACK THE PARADE TRUCK

“I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Daniel says when he comes to Max’s hotel room after the race.

Max is playing COD, two-player, two of the tentacles holding a controller between them. max gaming with the tentacles is one of the first images i thought about for this fic, along with the tentacles reaching up to the flush the toilet and opening the hotel room door to let daniel in. i think it's funny and also gestures to the kind of matter-of-fact acceptance he has in dealing with them, while at the same time not really Thinking about them/why they're there at all

“They are actually pretty good,” he says.

“Well yeah,” says Daniel. “They’re you.” daniel said max is max!

Max isn’t sure he likes that. max meanwhile is Not ready to acknowledge the way in which the tentacles are an extension of his own desires lol. He pauses the game, sets the controllers on the coffee table.

“Be honest,” he says, twisting to look up at Daniel. “Do you think I’m a freak?”

Daniel grins at him. “Not any more than I did before.”

He sits on the couch beside Max and the nearest tentacle immediately unfolds itself across his lap. very obvious!!

Daniel laughs. “Okay, maybe a little more than before.”

He runs his finger down a row of suckers; they shiver and flex in the wake of his touch. i like shiver and flex

“Freaky,” he says, smiling sideways at Max. Max is afraid to move, to breathe, in case Daniel stops touching him.

Daniel presses his finger to one of the suckers and Max can feel it, the way it wants to cling to him.

“Is this okay?”

Max nods, his fingers digging into the couch cushions. a little thing from this fic which i'm not sure really works/comes across is that max doesn't reach for/kiss daniel himself (i.e. with his arms not his tentacles) until almost the end when he fucks daniel with a tentacle and holds onto him etc - at which point the tentacles disappear bc they've served their purpose

Daniel takes a breath. “What’s it feel like,” he says. “On your dick.”

Max’s brain freezes for a moment. He looks at Daniel, uncertain, and Daniel looks right back at him, intent, a little challenging – not a joke. up to this point daniel's kind of been normalising the tentacle stuff with humour - i'm not sure the way they tip over the line here entirely works but oh well!

“I haven’t tried –” he says, and Daniel says, “I don’t believe you.” i like this beat better lol

Daniel is right, obviously.

Of course Max has thought, in bed, what it would be like. The sheets thrown back, Max’s hand on his dick, one tentacle sliding in and out of his mouth, What if it was –

“You’re hard,” Daniel says. He moves his hand as if he’s going to touch Max, then puts it back on his own thigh. even though daniel's taking the lead here there's still an element of the tentacles as excuse “You should get it out. Go on, Max.”

Max lifts his hips, scrambling to shove his pants down. He takes hold of his dick, which is hard, like Daniel said, aching.

“That’s it,” Daniel says, and Max gasps as a tentacle wraps around him, teasing at the tip where it’s already wet.

The tentacle is thicker than his dick, which is embarrassing, 🤐 but it feels so good: the suckers; the way it twists around him, tightens.

Daniel’s staring; when he reaches out to touch just the promise of it sends Max over the edge.

Covered in Max’s come, the tentacle lifts its tip to Daniel’s mouth.

Max moans with shame, watching helplessly as Daniel opens up for it, sucks it clean, the inside of his mouth so pink and wet. the tentacles doing all the hot awful things he wants to do all the time!!

He meets Max’s eyes and Max feels the pull of it everywhere, shuddering, dick twitching like he’s going to come again.

[babybixon012]

I will love you every day.

_________________________

France, outubro in 1914

It was the summer of 1914, and Wallace Russell. He was working at the "Kennedy" mansion, he was a gardener, and he worked every summer. Wallace was an honest, poor man who always worked hard to Sustain yourself.

Wallace had a poor family his entire life, and was always humiliated by the rich families he worked for. Wallace was a good and handsome man, and sometimes he made money from the lady Kennedy, the wife of the man he worked for. She gave him money if he did inappropriate things to her.

Wallace wasn't proud of what he did, but he had to earn more money than ever before, because his brother was saving money to be a doctor, and Wallace also needed to get food On the table.

One of the things Wallace liked most was Celeste Devorport. Celeste was the daughter of one of the maids in the Kennedy family home. She was pure, innocent and beautiful, she was so cute. But He never had the courage to talk to her, she gave him goosebumps just thinking about her. She was Mrs. Kennedy's darling, Mrs. Kennedy treated her as if she were her daughter. So Celeste has always been Privileged in some way.

He knew the things Celeste liked, she loved music, books, paintings and white flowers. She spent practically all her time in the garden or in the library. And sometimes Wallace would go there, just to Candle.

Celeste had dark brown hair, incredible blue eyes, pink lips and her smile was wonderful. Wallace loved Celeste's laugh. It was a sweet and soft voice.

It was a Sunday in 1914, and on days like this, all the employees were working hard at the Kennedy mansion. On Sundays, the Kennedys always invited friends and family to have lunch at their mansion. And the Kennedy's liked the house to be completely organized, To welcome guests. Wallace always worked more, because Mr. Kennedy always told him to do everything, and this time he sent Wallace to cut the grass, near the garden.

And there, she was. Laying down in that delicate, white dress, Celeste was lying on the grass, with a book in one hand and a rose in the other hand. She was perfectly fine. And in the sun she was more there Still beautiful

Wallace stared at Celeste, who didn't even notice.

"May I help you?" Celeste speaks sweetly, dropping the book on the bed and looking into Wallace's eyes.

Wallace's heart beat so hard and fast at the same time that he was stunned by the question. He didn't even know how to respond. Why did she leave him like this?

"uhh...I...don't need help...thank you" he said stuttering and looking at the ground trying to find refuge.

Celeste waved at him, went back to her book and smelled her rose, as she had been before Wallace arrived. But she narrowed her eyes, looking at Wallace again, wondering why Wallace was stopping in front of her, without saying a word.

"sorry to ask again, but do you have some kind of problem?" Celeste finally spoke, sitting down and facing the young brunette, who was in front of her without saying anything.

Wallace had frozen, he had to inform her that he needed to leave, as he had to cut the grass, but he couldn't even say that.

"no...I'm not retarded...it's just that...I need to...cut the grass...that Mr. Kennedy sent" he said again looking at the ground,

Celeste understood, and got up, taking her books and roses. She looked back at Wallace, who was still looking at the ground.

"why don't you look at me? Am I some jellyfish by any chance?" She said, half laughing, as she thought the boy was shy.

Wallace took a while to respond and said:

"and that you are very beautiful." he says this with a light, sweet laugh, full of shame. He puts his hands in his pockets, and continues looking at the ground.

Celeste didn't know how to respond to that, but I loved knowing that the young man thought she was beautiful.

"Thank you very much, I thought you were cute too" Celeste says full of love, and with a huge smile on her face. And that made Wallace's heart flutter, he finally looked at her and gave her a smile She.

Celeste and Wallace looked at each other intently and deeply. It made the hairs on your arms stand on end just looking at it.

"I'm Celeste Devorport, and what's your name?" Celeste speaks with a big smile, holding her books and her roses in her arm.

Wallace couldn't believe what was happening, the girl he dreamed about every night was wanting to know his name.

"I am..." Before Wallace could finish, Mrs. Kennedy arrived, interrupting the conversation.

She had that cold, calculating look that was always in her eyes. Wallace never had anything against Mrs. Kennedy, but he wanted to kill her at that moment, for having disturbed the Their conversation.

"Am I disturbing something?" She said that with a lot of mockery.

"Of course not, Mrs. Kennedy" Wallace says, lowering his eyes and trying to hide his pain.

"great!" She speaks full of joy and looks at Celeste "Celeste dear, go to my room, there is a beautiful dress that I want you to wear today"

Celeste opens a huge smile and hugs Mrs. Kennedy, happy as hell.

"Thank you Mrs. Kennedy, you are the best!" Celeste speaks full of love with Mrs. Kennedy and looks at Wallace. "It was a pleasure to meet you...." Celeste speaks, Encouraging Wallace saying his name.

"My name is Wallace Russell" Wallace says with a mere smile, as he looks at Celeste.

Mrs. Kennedy noticed their chemistry immediately. She liked Celeste, but she loved Wallace, and if something was going on she would put an end to it.

"Come on dear, the dress is there " Mrs. Kennedy says trying to get Celeste out of it as quickly as possible.

Celeste nods at her and gives a beautiful smile to Wallace. Wallace was more than happy. But Mrs. Kennedy immediately interrupted This happiness.

"Didn't my husband tell you to cut the grass?" She speaks with that authoritative look.

Wallace takes a deep breath and picks up the lawnmower without even looking at Mrs. Kennedy.

"I want you at 7 pm in my room" she says, approaching Wallace, and placing her hand on his rib.

"at 7 pm? Everyone will be awake" Wallace tried to use this excuse, so as not to have to have sex with her again. He had to stop.

"let's do it in a safer place, I promise" she says now into his neck.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Kennedy, but I don't want to do this anymore."

Wallace spoke out of fear of being fired, but he spoke anyway. He wanted to try something with Celeste now, So he needed to do everything right now.

"are you crazy!? I can fire you, you know?" She spoke with blood in her eyes, almost wanting to hang Wallace.

"no, you're not going to fire me, Mr. Kennedy, he would want to know why, and I'm one of the best employees here. Your power wouldn't do any good!"

Wallace spoke, attacking Mrs. Kennedy with the words, that was what he had to do for a long time. He was quite surprised at himself.

Mrs. Kennedy left without saying a word, as she felt humiliated by an employee, but that wasn't over for her, Wallace would be hers, whether she wanted it or not.

_________________________

Celeste was wearing the dress Mrs. Kennedy sent her Wear. And she was feeling totally beautiful. She liked Mrs. Kennedy so much, she considered her like her second mother. But Celeste also didn't stop thinking about Wallace. She couldn't wait to see him again.

"what do you think?" Celeste says looking in the mirror and asking Louisa, she was the youngest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy.

"He's beautiful, and you look amazing with him" Louisa says, smiling at her.

Celeste grew up in the Kennedy mansion, her mother was always the number one cook in the mansion. And Celeste always studied with the private teacher that Mrs. Kennedy gave her, so she didn't Having to go to school every day, since the Kennedy mansion was far from the city. So Celeste never had many friends.

But Louisa was there, even if she was a 13 year old child, but she was already good for something.

"Thank you my little blonde, I think I'm going to go bathe, the guests will be here soon" Celeste says going to the bathroom to change.

And the gates of the Kennedy mansion were opening, and several cars were arriving. And all the employees, including Wallace, were all at the door of the Kennedy mansion, to welcome the guests.

"The Beverly Hills Chickens have arrived my friend" an employee, Wallace's friend secretly made a comet in his ear, Wallace couldn't help but laugh. And the Kennedy couple stood right in front of the employees To welcome them all equally, only Madame Kennedy's eyes were completely focused In Wallace.

"I think Mrs. Kennedy is fixated on you Wallace" Wallace's friend says in his ear, and Wallace pretends not to hear.

The guests park, and practically everyone leaves synchronously.

"You are very welcome," says Mr. Kennedy, holding Mrs. Kennedy's arm, as he greets the guests.

After everyone entered, employees could enter through the back door.

Lunch was about to start, and Wallace was sitting outside on the stairs smoking. All his chores he had finished. Until Mr. Kennedy shows up.

"hello Wallace" he says with his whiskey and cigar in hand, sitting next to Wallace.

"Hello Mr. Kennedy, can I help you with anything?" Wallace said, crumpling the cigarette he was smoking at his feet.

"No boy! Don't do that with a cigarette" Mr. Kennedy says after the incident And they both burst into laughter

"I'm sorry, I have formalities with my boss" Wallace says Still a bit laughing.

"don't be formal with me Wallace, you know that you are my favorite employee and that you do things right"

Wallace gave a light smile full of pride, but also with shame, because his wife was having an affair with him, unfortunately.

Mr. Kennedy takes another cigar out of his pocket and gives it to Wallace.

"Here here my young man, do you know how to smoke a cigar?" Mr. Kennedy says when he observes Wallace, sniffing his cigar.

"Actually, I have no idea" Wallace says this, and Mr. Kennedy laughs a lot, the two stay there for half an hour talking. And Wallace's conscience grew even heavier.

Mr. Kennedy was already getting up, as he knew he had a party waiting for him. Until he sees Celeste in her new dress, talking to Louise near the fountain.

"Look there, little young Celeste," Mr. Kennedy says, and immediately Wallace turns his head to see her.

And Mr. Kennedy noticed this, and smiled.

"When you're getting married, please invite me" Mr. Kennedy says, patting Wallace on the shoulder twice. And he can't hide a smile

Wallace wanted to go to the source, And talk to her, but he was dirty and smelly and sweaty from working so much, he needed to take a shower. And he had a plan to win his beloved's heart.

He went to his room, which was downstairs, and took the quickest shower in the world. He fixed his hair, and picked up his old suit. And then he went to write his love letter to Celeste.

It took him 2 minutes to write and personalize the letter.

[sacredthethreadgvf]

The Keys to my Heart | Josh Kiszka x Reader | Part 3

Series Summary | Part 2

Chapter warnings: Angst. Some fluff. Mentions of poor mental health. Mentions of drinking. Some Jake x reader. Being stung by a jellyfish.

MINORS PLS DNI (you will be blocked) Also let me know again if I missed anything PLS :)

A/N: Im so sorry this took me so long to write. Lifes been crazy. I got to meet my greta friends in March even though our concerts got cancelled we met up and had an absolute blast but coming back from that trip, for some reason work got overwhelming for me and then I had major writers block. I'm hoping I made up for it by making this chapter a little longer than the others that I have posted so far. This is probably my favorite chapter so far but it is sad and I am sorry!!! Nonetheless, I hope you enjoy.

Word Count: 6.8k

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

“Y/N, I don't really know how to approach this because I suck at things like this but-..” 

You felt your heart pounding through your chest, the sweat forming on your forehead, and the shakiness of your breath. “Jake, please for the love of god cut to the chase,” You said quietly. “Is that Josh's girlfriend?” 

Jake took a deep breath and sighed, looking away from your face. “No, that is not Josh’s girlfriend.” You let out a breath that you didn't know you were really even holding onto. 

“I really don't know what is going on between the two of them to be honest with you.” Jake started and your chest started to hurt you again from lack of oxygen. “But she has been coming around quite often lately. And they're always sneaking around it seems. I mean shit I caught him sneaking her into the house last week around like 3 am and-...”

You felt your heart sink to the very low depths of your stomach and you face pale, trying to fight back the anxiety bubbling up in your chest. Jake glanced up at you before finishing his sentence realizing his admission out loud to you. Concern spreading across his features, he reached up and placed one of his hands on your knee to calm you. You looked over at him with glossy eyes. 

“Oh shit Y/N/N, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you that.” He said, his eyebrows knitting together.

You placed your hand on top of his. “No Jakey it's okay, I needed to know that. I just don't know why I had a sliver of hope that Josh and I would maybe possibly go back to what we had before your tour started.” 

Jake offered you a tight lipped smile and a nod before he turned his attention back to the patterns he had been drawing in the sand. The silence settled between you. As much as you loved Jake, you would give anything to be alone in this moment to process your feelings, whatever those were at the moment. You weren't exactly sure what you were feeling. Sadness obviously but a mixture of others as well. Anger maybe? Regret? Hate? Anxiety? 

“What do you need right now Y/N?” Jake asked, going back to drawing patterns in the sand in front of him.

You gave him a shaky sigh in return. “I'm not completely sure. I'm thinking of going home to be honest with you.”

Jake snapped his head in your direction at the admission. “Y/N no!” 

“I just don't know if I can deal with the thought of him having another girl under the roof of that house when I am in it at the same time Jake. I never fully healed from what he did and what we had before. Whatever that was. Real or not.  So what am I even supposed to do?”. Tears were now starting to break the barrier on the rim of your lower eyelid and cascade down your face. You weren't even aware that the tears had filled your eyes to the brim in the first place so it shocked you to feel the wet streams start to make their way down your skin. You tried to wipe them away as fast as you could, feeling pathetic for crying in front of Jake over his twin for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few months. 

Jake stood up and extended his hands out to you to follow suit. You let go of your arms that were hugged tightly around your own body to protect your beating heart from any further pain and grabbed his hands. He hoisted you up from your chair and pulled you into a tight hug immediately.

Of course, the second his arms wrapped around your body you felt the tears start to fall a little more freely now. You clung onto Jake for what felt like dear life hoping the pain in your heart at his admission of another girl with Josh would somehow vanish into thin air. Jake laid his head down on the top of yours and rubbed your back. 

“Y/N. Don't you dare go home. We need you here, I need you here and I know how much you said you needed a vacation. Dont go home because of my stupid idiotic twin cant open his eyes and see what is right in front of him.”

You huffed a small laugh and nodded your head that was still resting on Jake's chest. 

After what was probably close to 10 minutes of just standing on the beach with Jake holding you, you pulled back from him.. 

“Sorry bout your shirt bud.” You said to Jake, looking at the tear stains and light mascara that now inhabited the fabric of his blush pink t shirt he was wearing. He let out a light chuckle. 

“You know they invented these super cool things called washing machines?”

“Shut the fuck up Jacob.” You smirked.

“There's a smile! Now how about we go back to the house. I have a feeling Sam is either struggling to put his bass strings on or he put them on wrong and I will have to fix it for him.” 

You giggled at the thought of a classic Kiszka brotherly brawl over a simple set of guitar strings. 

Wiping your cheeks of any possible remaining black lines from your mascara you followed Jake back up the ramp from the beach and across the deck into the house. You and Jake made small talk about the bands new songs that they were probably going to be practicing later on tonight and how you had to come preview them, that Jake needed your opinion on a few new riffs he had come up with. You happily agreed, missing the days you used to sit in on band practice in the garage. Things were simpler back then. 

“You wanna come see these riffs now?” Jake asked, smiling back at you as he opened the big french door for both of you to walk into the house. 

“Actually Jake, I kinda need to clean up my face,” You gestured to your probably blotchy red face with tear stained cheeks. “And I could benefit from some alone time I'm sure. Plus, Im kind of trying to avoid the basement at the moment.” 

Jakes face fell slightly, “I get it. But dont hide in your room for the rest of the day, were having a delicious dinner later today.”

“Okay dad” You snorted and rolled your eyes. 

You watched as Jake descended down the foyer stairs finally letting the weight of what happened today rest a little heavier on your shoulders. Shaking your head you made your way down to your room for hopefully some peace and quiet. Which you quickly realized probably wasn't going to happen when you heard muffled arguments coming from the basement below you, guessing Jake was poking fun at Sam and Sam was retaliating. 

—------------------------------------------------------

Your afternoon me time, which had consisted of a face mask, talking with one of your girlfriends on the phone and currently painting your toenails, was suddenly interrupted by none other than Sammy Kiszka himself busting down your door. You jumped back at his sudden, loud, entrance into your room, knocking over your bottle of nail polish in the process. 

“Whatcha doooin” Sam asked jumping on your bed and rolling over to his stomach to stare down at where you were sitting on the floor. 

“I have to go Y/F/N. I'll call you back later.” You said quickly hanging up your phone before your friend could even respond and rushing to grab a paper towel and some nail polish remover (just in case) from your connected bathroom to wipe up the little bit of nail polish that had spilled. 

“Isn't it obvious Sam?” You responded laughing. “Girl shit.” 

“Nah I think you're hiding from us, I think you're hiding from Josh.” He said, sending a wink your way, completely oblivious to what you and Jake talked about earlier today.

You ran over to Sam and clasped a hand over his mouth. 

“Would you shut it, the door is wide open.” 

He wiggled his eyebrows at you and then licked the inside of your hand to which you squealed and jumped back. 

“I hope that it tasted like the nail polish remover I just used you nasty ass.” 

Sam just grinned widely at you and smacked his lips. “Nope. Not one bit.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Oh whatever. What do you want.”

“Dinners ready, Jake sent me to come get you.” 

You smiled, “Perfect, I am absolutely starving!”

You and Sam made your way down the hallway to the kitchen where the smell of spices engulfed your senses and made your stomach rumble with hunger. You see Danny standing in the kitchen with an apron on, his hair in a loose bun low on his head, pulling a pan of something out of the oven. 

“I got the hermit out of her room!” Sam exclaimed pointing at you next to him. 

Danny set the pan down on the top of the stove and looked over at you and smiled. 

“I hope you're hungry. We have eggplant parmesan and pasta!”

“And wine!” Jake chimed in coming up the foyer stairs carrying 3 bottles of wine in his arms. 

“I am famished, and could use a glass of red wine for sure!” 

Yourself and the boys all made light conversation while yourself and Jake set the table, Danny prepared the pasta/extra sauce/eggplant for serving, and Sam bounded around the kitchen after Danny helping here and there. You noticed immediately Josh's absence from the kitchen and your mind wandered to where he could be right now. Was he downstairs still hiding away with Anya? Was she even still here? What could he even be doing right now? Your midn was so preoccupied you didn't realize until it was too late that you had ungracefully knocked over Danny's basically full wine glass on the counter, reaching over to grab a serving spoon.. 

“Shit!” you exclaimed, picking up the wine glass and reaching for the nearest towel to soak up the red liquid that was quickly still spreading over the counter. 

You gained the attention of the 3 men in the process, muttering apologies to Danny and keeping your eyes focused on your task, hoping they didn't notice your beat red cheeks from embarrassment. 

“You alright there champ?” Jake asked from his spot at the kitchen table he and Sam were already sitting at.

“Yeah” you mumbled back. 

Danny came over next to you to help sop up the liquid.

“Sorry about your wine Danny.” You said.

“Y/N/N, it's just wine, it's no biggie. Come sit down and eat before everything gets cold.”

“Is Josh still joining us?” Sam piped up from his spot at the kitchen table. Your head snapped in his direction and you saw Jake's eyes widen for a moment and hold back a breath. 

“I'm not-..” Danny started to say. But almost as if on cue to not only Sam's question but your wandering mind from not a few moments ago. Josh and Anya make their way through the same French door you and Jake had walked through together not a few hours before. Anya was laughing at something Josh had said just before walking in through the door, grabbing onto one of his arms while she tipped her head back in laughter. You froze in your spot by the kitchen table, watching their every move feeling your heart rate rise in your chest. 

Josh and Anya stopped just inside the door and Anya's laughter cut off.

“Oh! Yummy dinners ready!.” She said sweetly, now holding onto one of Josh's hands. 

Everyone had frozen at this point, except for Anya. You didn't notice but Sam and Danny were sneaking glances at you to gauge what you were about to do next. The tension in the air came into the room and settled in faster than I think anyone expected. The only sound in the room was the light music that Danny had put on while he was cooking up dinner. Josh's eyes immediately caught yours and his smile had faded completely. He dropped Anya's hand from his own and broke eye contact from you looking at Jake. 

You knew your face was pale at this point with how your heart was clenching in your chest in agony seeing Josh with another girl right in front of you. You looked down at the empty plate next to you where you were about to sit down and eat your home cooked delicious meal that Danny had spent so much time on. You suddenly felt sick. You didn't want to look at them together right now. 

You heard Jake clear his throat. “Yeah uh, we were just sitting down to eat.”

Anya, completely oblivious to what was going on, clapped her hands together. “Awesome. I am hungry!” She was the first one to move in the room. Taking a spot right next to Jake, dragging Josh with her to sit down. Danny had begun to dish out some food on his plate and Sammy poured another glass of wine for himself, a big one at that, to help ease the awkward tension he and everyone else was feeling in the room. You were the only one that felt frozen in place still and had not taken your seat. 

“Uh Y/N/N?” Danny started to ask, carefully from his spot next to you. 

You snapped out of your head for a brief moment to look up and see Anya plant a kiss on Josh's cheek right in front of you. Josh's eyes met yours once again and they looked, dare I say, sad? But that was your breaking point. You could feel the tears begin to brim your eyes again, the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears, you were seeing red at this point. Before you could even properly register what you were doing, you had snatched a full bottle of red wine off the table in front of you and turned on your heel, making a bee line for your room down the hallway. You heard Josh and Jake call your name from behind you but you feel like you're going to pass out and you need to get away fast. Jake glared at his twin from the other wide of the table and hopped up to chase you down the hallway. He had just barely made it through your doorway, narrowly missing the door slamming in his face. 

You placed the bottle on your dresser and collapsed instantly in your bed, crying but making no sound. Jake closed your door behind him and came to join you on the bed before you gathered enough air to speak to him.

“Get. Out.” You choked out between sobs. “Leave me the fuck alone.”

Jake stopped in his tracks and looked at you with a sad look on his face, his arms extending out to you. “Y/N, please let me help.” 

“I said get out Jacob!” You yelled at him, a little harsher than you had intended. You instantly regretted it when you watched him flinch and his face fall even further. He put his arms down now next to him and made his way to your bedroom door. You were now sitting up, watching him leave you. You watched as he turned back to you in your doorway, he opened his mouth a few times but closed it promptly and bowed his head at you. When he closed your door you got up, grabbed the wine bottle and locked the door as you didnt want to be further bothered for the rest of the evening. 

—------------------------------------------------------

You awoke with yet another glorious headache due to your red wine filled heartbroken night. You knew better than to not only double down on the alcohol two nights in a row, but red wine alone after barely eating? Yuck. It left you with a bitter taste in your mouth, a decent headache, and some heartburn early in the morning. You rubbed your eyes, feeling how swollen they were underneath your fingers and you sighed out loud. The sun streaming through the blinds right in your eyes at 7 am wasn't helping anything. Maybe you'll put up a small blanket today in the window to hopefully prevent some of the sun from getting in so you could finally sleep in on your vacation. You laid there for a moment and recalled the rest of your evening for just a moment. At one point you had given up on crying, the tears just wouldn't fall anymore. You're pretty sure at one point you heard someone knock at your door but you didn't answer it and you never heard the knocking again. As much as you wanted to just lay in bed all day and ignore everyone in the house, your rumbling sour tummy was reminding you that you needed to nourish yourself or you would find yourself vomiting all morning. 

Dragging yourself out of bed and into the bathroom, you splashed some cold water on your face to help relieve some of the swelling in your eyes, at least you hoped. You put on some mascara then to hopefully hide some of the swelling as well and you popped a few Advil to help your throbbing head.

Making your way out into the hallways quietly, you scoped out the living room and kitchen from a far making sure you were alone. You weren't really in the mood to talk to anyone at the moment. God forbid you run into Josh. 

Making your way slowly to the back french door, thinking maybe some fresh air and a walk on the beach would be a good idea to clear your head, you run into Jake who had just started making his way up the foyer stairs. You both froze in place and stared at each other like you were some wild animals, predator and prey, wondering who would make the first move. 

“Jake” you said softly, frowning at him lightly. “Im really sor-..”

He held up his hand at you to stop you from finishing your sentence any further. “No need to apologize Y/N. Are you okay.” 

You let out a breath, thanking god that Jake didn't seem mad at you for your outburst at him last night, and you both walked towards each other enveloping each other in a hug. 

You giggled, “Are you seriously asking me that right now.”

He chuckled back lightly and let you go faster than you wanted him to. Okay so he was still a little ticked about yesterday. But you were grateful he was being nice to you right now. 

“I'm sure you're starving, how about we get breakfast from Sunnys?” He asked, giving you a small smile. 

Your eyes lit up at the mention of one of your favorite local restaurants. “Deal.”

—------------------------------------------------------

You and Jake pulled the boat up to the dock in front of Sunny’s and Jake switched the boat power off. You both tag teamed and made sure to grab the ropes on the side of the boat to anchor it to the dock before you got off. On the ride over you and Jake played rock paper scissors over who had to go inside and actually pick up the food. You lost. Terribly. And you giggled about it for a brief moment as you made the short trek up the ramp to the inside of the restaurant. The smell of food was already wafting through the air and making your mouth water with hunger. Sunny’s was one of your favorite little restaurants along the water in the keys. It was owned by a small family in town that lived down from where both your family and the Kiszkas used to stay. The food could cure a heartbreak or hangover in a matter of a few bites, which was a perfect instance for this morning. 

You made your way through the open garage doors up to the bar where a young girl was tending to a few patrons already having drinks at 10: 30 am to grab your to-go order. While waiting at one of the bar stools you glanced around at the half full patio with people of all ages enjoying their food and spending time in the warm salty air. Your eyes landed on a particular table not 10 feet away from where you were sitting that had just erupted in loud laughter and yells. A group of four girls around your age were sitting with a bottle of champagne right in the middle of the table surrounded by plates, cheersing to whatever seemed to be going on. One of the girls turned her head slightly and her blonde hair blew behind her in the wind, and is that..? Oh great. It was Anya and who you assumed were her girlfriends. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the girl behind the bar just as she was approaching you. “Hey, how can I help you?” She asked with a bright smile. “Uh yeah I had a pick up order for Y/N?” She took your card with a smile and walked off to ring up your food in the system. 

You didn't mean to start eavesdropping on the conversation going on with Anya and her friends behind you but you couldnt help it, its not like they were making an attempt to be quiet anyways.

“So Anya,” one of the girls started. “Josh??” you stopped your breathing momentarily to listen in while pausing on signing the receipt the bartender handed back to you. You heard Anya scoff, “Ugh dont even get me started on Josh.” She exclaimed.

You felt your eyes grow wide at the tone in her voice.

“Hes kind of really getting annoying. He won't even hook up with me yet! It's getting boring.”

You feel your heart drop to the depths of your stomach. Josh was really giving his time and energy to this trash bag of a girl? 

Anya continued, “Its whatever though, I really am just using him to get to Jake anyways.” You could hear her smile. Okay now you were starting to get pissed. “Oh yeah, Jake is hot as fuck.” One of the girls agreed.

“I know right?” Anya continued, “Only the problem is I have to get rid of this stupid Y/N bitch that always hangs around them. I saw her clinging onto Jake yesterday when I got to the house and then he chased after her when she had her stupid little mental breakdown moment. Not like she has a chance though with Jake or probably even Josh at that. I just need to get Jake alone next time I go over there.”

The bartender came back and set your food down in front of you. “Can I get you anything else today?” She paused before walking away. You realized you had not signed the receipt yet because you were too busy listening to conversation behind you. “Uhm, you know what, yeah. Can I get a shot of Don Julio please?” She nodded and went to grab the bottle to pour you a shot. You put a $10 down on the counter, “keep the change” you said and knocked back the shot and bit the lime before you could fully gag at the taste of the tequila hitting the back of your throat.

 Leaving your food on the counter momentarily you turned around and made a beeline for Anya's table as her and her friends were laughing and still going back and forth about who knows what at this point. The two girls facing Anya and the brunette stopped talking and looked at you and frowned. Anya spit part of her mimosa out she she looked up and realized who approached her table.

 “Can I help you?” She asked with a sly smirk.

 “Yeah, you can.” You started. “Keep my name out of your fucking mouth and leave Josh and Jake the hell alone” 

She laughed. “And what exactly are you going to do if I dont?” 

The anger that had been bubbling in you and finally poured over the surface. Without thinking you grabbed the water glass sitting in front of Anya and threw it in her face, drenching her and the brunette next to her and sending ice flying behind her. All the girls at the table gasped loudly and you knew you were causing a scene but quite frankly you didnt care. “That.” you spat back at her turning on your heel. You made a beeline for the food you left on the counter realizing the bartender had her jaw hung wide open and a few of the men sitting at the bar were staring at you with surprised looks. “Tell Ricky and Millie I'm sorry” you told the bartender, grabbing the food and making another beeline for the ramp to get back to the boat as quickly as you could.

Jake was sitting on the boat sunbathing with his eyes closed enjoying the morning sun.

“Jake!” You screamed, startling him so bad he fell from his spot onto the boat deck. “Start the boat now we have to go.” He stared at you for a moment, not moving.

“NOW Jacob!!”  

Jake sprung into action untying the boat from the dock and helping you jump on quickly. He peeled away from the dock and back towards the beach house. Once you were a far enough distance away from Sunnys Jake slowed the boat down to a cruising speed.

“Mind telling me what the fuck is going on?!” He seethed. Obviously not happy with your theatrics. He looked over at you and saw you with your head in your hands looking at your feet and he softened.

“What. Did you rob the place or something?” Trying to make a joke. 

You picked your head up out of your hands and his face dropped when he saw how flustered and annoyed you looked.

 “What's wrong Y/N/N?”

 You rolled your eyes at the question.“Anya”

“What the fuck happened with Anya? Wait, did you see her in Sunnys?”

 “She's vile Jake!” You yelled all of a sudden. “I overheard her talking about how annoying Josh is to her friends and how she's using him!” You threw you arms up in the air then crossed them over your chest. Jake slowed the boat down even more and turned from the steering wheel to face you, frowning. “She really say that ?”. 

“Yes Jake, I swear on my mommas grave.” He gave you a pained look. “Oh shit..”

 “Yeah.” you scoffed. “I have to tell Josh..” 

No other words were spoken between you two as Jake slowly coasted up to the side of the boat dock at the house. Both of you gathering the ropes again to re-tie the boat to the dock at home. 

“I cant believe Anya said that still.” Jake said, sitting on the edge of the boat facing you and the ocean.

“Yeah me neither. But I had a bad feeling about her from the get go, you know that gut feeling of sorts.” You said. 

Going to sit on the edge of the boat opposite where Jake had just propped himself across from you. Without realizing, you had overshot where your butt was going to land due to still being hungover and newly buzzed from the shot of liquid courage you used earlier. In a second you were flying through the air just to break the surface of the blue water beneath you. You gasped as you broke to the surface again completely shocked and now quite frankly embarrassed that even just happened. 

You looked up to where you had just fallen from and saw Jake staring down at you, “Holy shit Y/N!! You good ?”. You broke out in laughter and he followed suit. 

“Yeah I'm okay, its kinda nice in here. Sobered me up a bit.” He gave you a quizzical look but smiled down at you. 

“Riiiiight. Well hurry up and meet me at the dock ladder, Im starving, and you need to change now ''. 

You started swimming around the front of the boat heading for the ladder when your hand brushed something in the water. You pulled your arm back quickly. It wasn't seaweed or that grassy shit for sure, maybe it was a fish ? A shark ? No not a shark you'd see it swimming towards you. You whipped your body around trying to look for fins because whatever brushed your arm definitely felt squishy and slimy. 

“You alright Y/N?” Jake called to you 6 feet away.

“Uh..” You started to yell back when you felt it. A prickling burn made its way up the inside of your left thigh and wrapped around the side of it. You screamed and leapt as far away from the pain as you could and burst into tears. 

“I think I just got stung by a jellyfish!!” You yelled at Jake getting closer to the ladder by the second, adrenaline pushing you to swim faster than you ever have in your life. By the time you made it to the ladder Jake was bending his body down to grab you by the arm and drag you up, barely giving you a chance to even use your own body to get up the steps. You were sobbing at this point and Jake pulled you into his arms only for a split second before pulling away. “Where” he asked, grabbing your shoulders and searching your face for an answer. You wiped away the tears streaming down your right cheek at the moment. “M-my leg” you gestured to your left leg shaking while twisting it so Jake could see. 

“Okay, okay you're okay Y/N. Let's get you in the house. I think there's some kind of medicine in the cabinet in there.” He started pulling you along the dock by your hand with a hurry.

“You dont have to pee on me do you?” You heard Jake giggle ahead of you and then he turned his head and flashed you a smile, “not sure yet”. 

You gave him a horrified look hoping that wasn't the case. 

Jake pulled you through the big white trim glass doors and immediately into the kitchen. You were still crying just not as hard as before, the stinging on your leg had now intensified but the adrenaline from the sting itself happening isn't allowing you to feel the full force of the pain just yet. Jake took you by the hips and lifted you up and set you on the counter. As Jake went to dig through the medicine cabinet you allowed yourself to look down at the now expanding little red welts dragging from the inside of your left knee all the way up your thigh ending on the other side by your butt. Jake came back a moment later with rubbing alcohol, vinegar, and some cotton pads. You focused on his face as he set the items next to you.

“Okay sunshine, listen,” he started, coming to stand in between your legs with arms on either side of your hips on the counter. “This is probably going to suck and I am really sorry in advance. It's going to sting even worse for a little but then it's supposed to go away. I need you to trust me, okay?” 

You just nodded your head in agreement as he started surveying your leg for any left over tentacles that may be left over from the sting. You leaned back a bit more and rested your arms behind you and chuckled. Jake gave you a quizzical look again before moving back to his inspection.

 “I guess this is fucking Karma” You said looking at the ceiling, not wanting to admit you were starting to blush from feeling Jakes hands travel up your thigh. 

“And that is because of…?” Jake asked.

 “I may or may not have thrown water in Anya's face after I overheard her talking shit and I may have done it  in front of a whole restaurant.” Your breath hitched as Jake started dabbing at your sting. 

“Really Y/N? Thats classy.” He snorted a laugh.

 “What else was I supposed to do ! I'm not just going to sit back and let her talk bad about all of us and get away with it” 

“Y/N sometimes you just gotta pick your battles” You snorted a laugh back then yelped when he got to the more sensitive skin of your upper thigh.

 “Sorry.” He mumbled sheepishly. 

A second later you heard footsteps approaching the kitchen from the foyer stairs. Josh got to the top stair and you made eye contact. He tensed at first, eyes widening for a moment at the sight of Jake in between your thighs and you placed on the counter. You turned your eyes back to Jake's face, focusing on his furrowing eyebrow as he was focusing. Josh saw Jake dabbing the side of your thigh now with a cotton pad and he physically relaxed a bit. Approaching you both carefully he cleared his throat to announce his entrance to Jake since you hadnt said a word to him.

“What happened here?” He asked carefully, watching your face contort with pain.

 Jake pulled out his best Australian accent as he kept dabbing you with a cotton pad, “Ah ya know Y/N here was just wrestlin some wild jellies, mate” 

You and Josh both huffed a laugh. 

Josh got closer to you both hesitantly. “Jesus Y/N/N that looks gnarly, you okay?”

“I think i'll live” You dryly replied. 

Josh grimaced slightly at your tone. He understood why you were being curt with him but he didn't like it.

“We picked up food” Jake gestured behind him for a second towards the bag of food on the counter.

“Thanks, but uhm I'm supposed to be meeting Anya here for lunch at Sunnys”. 

You tensed and Jake's grip on your leg tightened for a second. 

“She was already there when I picked up food.” You lightly spat, not looking at Josh anymore.

 Josh looked at you and panicked then at the clock.

 “Was she really ?! Shit I must have messed up the time then. Ill catch you guys later.” He stated as he was scrambling around the kitchen grabbing keys and a water. 

“Wait, I have to-...” you started to say towards Josh's direction but you were cut short by Jake pressing particularly hard on one area of your thigh causing you to gasp and wince. Looking at Jake directly, he was shaking his head at you. ‘Not now’ he mouthed. 

You gave him a puzzling look. 

Josh was already out the door before you could speak up again.

————————————————————————

It was tradition to have Sunday night family dinner with the Kiszkas when you were younger. You used to go over with your parents every Sunday around 2 pm and spend hours with the boys while they rehearsed music for their band and your parents slaved away over a 4 course meal in the kitchen. It became such a tradition that even without the parents around, the boys and you still carried it on. You and Jake had spent some time gathering the crabs from the traps you had set after breakfast and you were pleasantly surprised with how many you actually caught. The plan was to have a classic seafood dinner. Eventually, throughout the morning, Sam and Danny finally awoke from their alcohol induced slumber and joined you and Jake in the kitchen to start preparing food. Josh still had not returned some 2 hours after he departed which kind of annoyed you, even though you knew it shouldn't.

“You did what now?!” Sam turned to look at you, mouth agape while chopping vegetables. 

“I threw water in her face! She was being so rude and I don't want to see Josh get hurt! He doesn't deserve it.” Sam looked shocked. 

“Ooooo so you do like him huh.” Danny gave you a side smirk and bumped your shoulder. “JAKE!” You yelled and he jumped but kept his back to you. 

“Did you tell EVERYONE in this god forsaken house?!” Jake turned his body with his arms in the air and opened his mouth to respond when Danny jumped in. 

“No he didn't tell us anything, we just guessed and you just confirmed” he said, tapping your nose with his finger. 

You groaned and laid your head down on the counter in front of you. “I need a fucking drink. Something.”

“Oh so no denial, huh!” Sam said laughing. You groaned. “Lucky for you, margaritas are my specialty” he sent a wink your way turning to grab the bottle of casamigos, shaker, and limes. 

Sams margarita was strong, but in the best of ways. You wanted to forget this morning and whatever you possessed you to act so unlike yourself, so confrontational. You had moved to the outside deck at this point on the side of the house facing the beach. The sun has just started to set lower in the sky, not quite sunset but not quite that 4 pm afternoon summer sun either. A gentle breeze blowing the tall grass on the sand dunes in front of you and the sand catching a white but still golden warm glow. You took a deep breath of ocean air and tipped your head down to stare at the white paint of the deck. Thank goodness the boys insisted on not letting you do anything for dinner tonight. Mentally? You truly needed a break. 

But that break was cut short by the sound of an approaching boat in the distance. You recognized the motor as the Kiszkas boat and looked back over your left shoulder towards the dock and saw Josh pulling up, alone, thank goodness. 

You tried not to stare but you watched him dock the boat by himself and make his way towards the same doors Jake pulled you through earlier, except he noticed you and made a turn towards you instead of the house. Your breath caught in your throat for a moment and you turned your head back to the beach and the blowing grass. Why were you so nervous?

“Wanna explain to me what the fuck happened earlier?” His tone caught you off guard and you turned to face him only to be met with a death stare and crossed arms from your beloved Josh. 

“What do you mean?” You asked. Not to be a dick or anything but you wanted to know what he heard. 

“Oh cmon Y/N dont play fucking dumb on me now you know what happened at Sunnys earlier today. All of a sudden Anya wants nothing to do with me! And you dumped water on her in front of a whole restaurant ?! Thats not like you so cut the shit!” 

You leaned your back against the railing now and looked down at your white toenails. 

“Josh, listen, she was talking about how she was using you and how she actually wants Jake and I-” you started before he cut you off shaking his head in disbelief.

“You know what? Fucking SAVE it Y/N”. You jumped at his tone of voice and his cold stare. 

“What the fuck did you really say to her huh?! I know you're jealous of her.” Your heart stopped, your body tingled and you let out a large scoff. 

“Are you fucking kidding me Josh?!” You felt tears beginning to form, “You have no idea what that girls intentions are with you. I actually HEARD them this morning and now you want to come at me like this?” 

Josh scrunched his eyes together and sighed through his nose, loud enough for you to hear over the breeze blowing the grass. “Look Y/N, I've said it once and i'll say it again to make it clear. What we did before we left for tour was a mistake and it shouldn't have happened in the first place. Dont get in the middle of my relationships anymore. You don't have the right” 

The tears that were sitting on the brim of your eyelids finally spilled over and you let out a choked sob. Josh finally looked at you in the eyes and for a moment you could have sworn that he looked taken aback, hurt maybe? 

“Fuck you Joshua.” You said and stormed off down the ramp to go sit on the beach. Seems as if things were back to square one between the two of you.

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

taglist: @turtleskane​  @ashabeannn​   @keighoe​  @janegvf​   @andromeda-raine-gvf​   @prophetofthedune​  @agirlwithmanytastes​

[pallasperilous]

Piledriver

Dean/Castiel 1815 words Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair Coda, Fix-It (sort of), Grief is a weird and protean beast, Second Person POV, but also Dean POV, I realize what a tall order that is y’all but I swear it’s mad judicious {AO3 version}

You’re not really sure when you started doing it.

That’s a fucking lie. 

You started doing it ten, maybe twenty minutes after. 

Not as a conscious thing, not like those snappy comebacks you think of the next day, or like those speeches you practice in your head and then never get the chance to deliver. (Although it seems like other people have better luck in that regard.) 

It’s more like a tic — like the way Sam used to pick at his hand, or your mom used to hum the same little bit of Stairway to Heaven offkey. (Which was kind of a trip since she’d come back from, you know. There.)

You think: I love you, too. 

 It’s just a drumbeat of syllables running in the back of your head. Might as well be shave and a haircut. Which you could use, incidentally.

It eases off a little, after the universe ticks over. You’re so fucking relieved that you basically revert to a lower life form for awhile — you’re like a jellyfish, or a fungus, or a Yankees fan. For a few minutes there, things are pretty sweet.  

Then the clock starts running again, and you and Sam are faced with the frankly fucked-up necessity of needing a hot meal and somewhere to pee. 

It kicks back in then — during the peeing, specifically, because goddamn did the dude never get over what a fucking nightmare it is to have a bladder. Like it actually made him mad. Even after he got his batteries back and was once more able to, like, effervesce fluids out of his body or teleport them to the surface of Mars or whatever, he never stopped giving you pitying looks whenever he got up to use the can. On the road he’d ask if anybody needed a bathroom break at every single freeway exit. You chewed him out once that you in fact were not a four year-old or an Alzheimer’s patient and could therefore hold it for more than twenty minutes at a time, and he looked at you with such bottomless patience and empathy that you could’ve thrown him out of the fucking car. I love you too.

Instead of a heartbeat, it’s like a piledriver hitting the ground ten feet away.  

I love you too. It rattles your fucking thighs as you wash your hands in the gas station bathroom. None of the other dudes do because dudes are fucking disgusting. This attitude was maybe part of the problem.

I love you too. You come out and the car’s moved and you have a hot second of freakout, then you see Sam’s just pulled it away from the pump and parked in the lot and honest to God (go team!) you almost burst into tears. What the fuck.

I love you, too. 

That night you do your absolute best to lobotomize yourself (not to obliterate yourself, which is a sign of progress and for which effort you absolutely deserve a round of applause from…somebody), but the piledriver just keeps on pounding away and you realize that it’s either piledrive or get piledriven. Sam’s asleep six feet away after his own inpatient procedure but you’re really fucking starting to panic so you say it out loud, anyway. 

I love you, too.

And something gives, eases off like a gas bubble turning a corner in your gut, and you pass out.

So you lean into it. You make it your thing. You figure you can either be losing your mind, or practicing, so you choose practicing. You’re showing the powers that be that you’re keeping the faith. You’re holding a torch.  You’re being the change you want to see in the world. You’ve talked to coma patients before and you’ve prayed to this asshole before and this isn’t any different. Isn’t it?

Washing the dishes: I love you, too.

Checking the oil: I love you, too.

Swinging a machete and hitting that sweet spot between vertebrae where the head just pops right off, like a Lego dude: I love you, too. 

Pulling on socks: I love you, too.

Burning that fucking jacket: I love you, too.

Not out loud, or at least, not where anybody can hear you. That would be weird.

And you know, you know, that he doesn’t hear you, either. You know that, worst of all, he didn’t even need to hear it. You’ve heard a lot of shit about unconditional love, but it’s never had any goddamn appeal to you because, what? Somebody loves you the same no matter what fucked up shit you do, no matter how you feel about them? 

That’s either (a) some seriously poisoned Kool-Aid or (b) so huge it’s useless, like giving somebody a galaxy for their birthday. You want unconditional love? Get a fucking dog. 

I love you, too.

Lately you’ve been swapping in phrases that have the same rhythm or meter or whatever, so you can say them out loud without worrying anybody more than usual. The rain in Spain does some heavy lifting for a couple weeks, then ba-DUMP-bump, tissshh! followed by the king of beers for about half a particularly shitty afternoon and then closing out with you bet your ass, which is a much better fit for your lifestyle. 

So fine, great. Life goes on. You were the subject of his unconditional cosmic love-boner whatever and getting that off his chest was all he needed to go happily fucking off into the abyss. And you’re still down here (up here? over here?), drinking coffee and hating Mondays. Awesome. I love you, too.

This is around when you discover the best match for both meter and tone yet, one so close that it doesn’t even feel like a placebo for the real phrase. It’s a whole different drug, actually. It makes you feel like a million bucks, it’s absolute rocket fuel. If the original is whiskey, this shit is meth. You turn a whole nest of ghouls into one big ghoul smoothie and then at the bar later somebody nervously informs you that you were yelling it out loud the whole damn time. 

The phrase is: go fuck yourself.

You imagine it at night, lying in the empty bed, your pulse hammering in time: him standing there, one big cow-eyed khaki rumple, and you yell: Go fuck yourself. You asshole. You bastard. You smug piece of shit. Go fuck yourself. How many times have we done this, and every fucking time you find a way to make it worse. Go fuck yourself.

I love you, too.

After a few weeks it loses its edge. You kinda knew it would, having some experience with the limits of amphetamines and your own rage-juice glands. It downgrades from a battle-cry to a slur. At some point you realize you’re not even saying it to him anymore. You’re saying it to you. Go fuck yourself.

You try to imagine him saying it instead. Go fuck yourself,  in that nutso Sam the Eagle voice that he must’ve gotten out of a box of Cracker Jacks, because it sure didn’t come complimentary with Jimmy Novak’s dry-ass mouth.  Go fuck yourself, Dean.

Somehow it’s still the nicest thing anybody’s ever said to you. 

So you go back to the OG version, and this time it feels like it settles in. You do whatever the psychological equivalent is of buying it a dog bed and a food dish and a leash, and you take it out for walkies whenever it starts to chew on the furniture. I love you, too. 

You get so used to its presence that sometimes you even forget it’s there. You’re joking around with Sam, eating sandwiches at some picnic grounds on the way to Sioux Falls for a social visit, and you say some dumb thing to him, who knows about what. Sam rolls his eyes and shakes his head in disgust as required by the kid brother certification board and snorts “I love you, man,” in the way that means how are you even allowed to exist, and you answer “I love you, too,” in the way that means I love you, too.

Sam has seen a lot of wild shit, but the look on his face after that is a brand new one to you. 

“Checkmate, asshole,” you say, in case he’s worried you’re gonna off yourself in the bathroom or something.

 You do get to say it, eventually. 

Like most things in life, it happens after you’ve totally given up, and then totally given up giving up, and have achieved the spiritual equivalent of that shrug emoji Claire sends you sometimes. When the phrase is well past thinking about, when the words don’t even carry any meaning anymore; they’re like the thought version of blinking, or swallowing. A background process, until something flies into your eyeball or you try to breathe a tortilla chip.

So the tortilla chip shows up one day. Don’t worry too much about the details here, just take it for granted that it either required a heroic effort of years that nearly broke you, or that he just showed up unsolicited on the porch like a copy of The Watchtower. Or maybe you’re both dead; seriously, who cares, because regardless — he’s there, and you’re there, and for awhile other people are there too, but eventually they go away. 

And it’s him, and it’s you. And if you hadn’t absolutely digested this thing in advance, if you hadn’t broken each word down into its atomic particles and cut and pasted them into your DNA so that 45th century forensic anthropologists from Mars could extract it from a fragment of the the mummified marrow of your left ass-bone, you might’ve said something else. 

You said: “I love you, too.”

You realize, in the moment after you say it, that you have reached the limits of your preparations. You’re a samurai with a single move; you’re the cannon in the 1812 Overture; your photo’s in the dictionary under one-trick pony and you’ve got frosted tips and you’re blinking. 

You say it again, and then a third time, and a lot of times after that. You keep saying it, for years, in varying degrees of franticness and horniness and happiness and honestly still-fucking-angriness and whatever else is on special that week. You say it to his face and to his dick and to his back and to the mere concept of him well after he’s left the room, left the state, left the dimension. Eventually you stop bothering to say anything else to each other. There are maybe half a million words in your native language, according to Sam, who uses them all, and with everybody else you keep on using the two hundred or so you feel confident about. 

But with Castiel, you make do with just the four.

I love you.

I love you, too.

[weaselinaburrow]

Aquarium

I do so love the idea of the three of them going to aquariums or zoos or museums or whatever. How fun that whole thing is.

This isn't that though. We're hopping back on the sad train instead :)

Keet sits on the idea for a few days, mulls it over in his head. Considers going alone, but every time he looks at Crim feels…guilty for the thought. Still, he isn't sure how to approach it, how to ask - and so he doesn't, for awhile, until finally the desire builds up strong enough that he can't stop himself anymore.

"Let's go to the aquarium," He finally blurts out, one day. Crim's gaze is somewhat slow to move over to him. Keet blinks up at them, into the look that he can't quite read. When they don't respond quick enough for his taste, Keet continues. "It'd be easy enough to just sneak in, we wouldn't have to pay for it. Just for an hour or two -"

"Why?" Crim interrupts, and Keet's rambling stutters to a stop on his tongue. He clears his throat, gives a shoulder a shrug. He isn't sure how to answer, what to say - he's not even entirely sure what is pulling him to the aquarium to begin with.

"...Fable liked to take us there," he finally answers, but the words feel strange on his tongue. Not quite true, or at least not the only truth. Still, it's all he says, because he thinks that Crim will appreciate that, at least. They don't answer, for a second, but then they clack their beak in a surprisingly quiet noise.

"Not interested," Crim says, "just because they liked it there doesn't mean we have to."

An uncomfortable tightness builds in Keet's chest, rises to the crux of his throat in familiar threat. He pushes it down, clears his throat again, tries to just ignore the part of him that is all at once hurt.

"Yeah," He says, and he's a little proud at how steady his voice comes out, "Yeah, you're right." Crim hums briefly in agreement, and then they stride away, clearly considering the matter settled. Keet watches them go and waits until they're out of sight to let his shoulders drop.

Stupid idea, he thinks.

-

It doesn't leave him alone, though, even though every time he thinks about going to the aquarium Crim's easy dismissal replays in his head. Stupid idea, he thinks again, another thing that won't help. Won't bring Fable back. He's chasing the shadow of some feeling he's unlikely to really find again.

But…he still wants to go. And in a sudden pique of something he can't quite name, Keet slips away in the middle of the night to do just that.

It's stupid easy to get in - it's closed, after all, and avoiding the few humans caring for it after hours is hatchling-play. Keet makes a beeline for his favorite place - long, dull, winding tunnels of tanks and fish of various sizes. It's almost even dark for him, now, with the way the lights to most of the tanks have been turned off. Still, seeing into the tanks is easy enough, and as Keet's footsteps slow and the tunnel envelops him, he's surprised to feel some of the tension in his chest ease.

He walks quietly along the tunnels, pauses often for long moments at a time to watch fish swim, dart, play - even sleep, drifting idly in their tanks. Finds one particularly playful Tang, and traces a claw along the glass - careful not to actually touch it - to play along with them. Stops, later, to marvel at the alligators, the deep sea fish, spends long long moments just watching a tank full of moon jellyfish with no small amount of awe.

There is a room surrounded on all sides by tanks that stretch up and up to what Keet knows is an open viewing platform a few floors above. Here, though, it is dark, and quiet, and enclosed. This is where the sharks swim - and Keet loves to watch them, too. They are powerful predators, even the smallest of them, and the way they cut through water and gaze to the world beyond never ceases to amaze him.

It is as Keet slips onto the seat of a bleacher, settles in to watch the sharks for a while, that he realizes he feels content.

Thinking about it is enough to remind him of the painful feelings inside - the raw, raw grief so often tangled with pointless anger. But in this moment, it's surprisingly easy to push them down. They aren't gone, that ache is still there and hasn't once left, but it is quieter. Here, among the swimming sharks and the hefty scent of fish and the softly echoing memories - things feel just a little easier. Just for a time.

And carefully, Keet pushes the thoughts aside entirely. He focuses on a particular shark - its nose especially long and jagged like a blade - and watches it swim. Lets his mind drift just as the shark does, flits his gaze slowly from that to another and to another and even to the colorful reef of plants near the bottom of the tank.

Keet couldn't have said how long he was there. He didn't care to keep track. He was comfortable, content - no, not quite happy, but the closest he'd been since Fable had passed. It was bliss, in a way, as his thoughts quieted and settled and for once he wasn't thinking himself in circles on circles on raw, painful circles.

The strangled screech is so sudden, so loud to his sensitive ears that it makes Keet startle near violently enough to fall from his seat. He very well might have, even, except before he's even caught up there are claws snatching at him and pulling him down from the bench.

He struggles for only a few seconds before he realizes that it's Crim - they are grabbing at him with claw after claw, pulling and pressing him tightly to their body. Sharp talons dig painfully into his side, claws pinch tightly at a leg, and with a sharp hiss of displeasure Keet tries in vain to shove them away.

"Get the hell -" Keet's own words are drowned beneath the noises that Crim is making, ones Keet only then starts to register. They are growling, hissing, /chattering/ at him in sharp, furious, wordless tones. All the while, they are still trying to press him closer, clinging on to him and curling their body slightly over his in actions that seem decidedly different than their vocalizations. Keet's own annoyance fades in his uncertainty, and when he speaks again his words are far less aggressive than he'd expected.

"What are you doing?"

"What are /you/ doing?" Crim fires back with an angry clack of their beak, close enough to Keet's ear that he flinches. "I woke up, and you weren't there, I've been looking -"

"Wait, just wait - you were -"

"Thought you'd gone off and done something stupid," they talk over him with a growl, "stupid, stupid," they repeat themselves, punctuate the word with none-too-gentle taps to the top of Keet's head. They curl their claws tighter into him still, and their hold is very nearly suffocating. "What are you doing?" They ask again, "why here?"

Keet knows he could say he was chasing memories, or trying to do something Fable liked doing, or mention them in any number of ways that Crim would better understand. They may still scold him for it, but Fable is a careful, touchy subject - they're unlikely to linger on it for long.

But while those may color the truth, none of them are the full truth. And it's rather sudden, rather impulsive - but when Keet speaks, it's the honest truth that comes out in a shaky, catching voice.

"I like it here," Keet tells them, and there's a sharp rise to his tone that's almost pleading, "I…wanted to see the fish. I just wanted to see the fish."

Crim stills, then. There's still a hard-to-decipher warble in their throat, they're still holding on painfully tight - but after a long moment they click their beak and they sigh. As they speak, they tap the side of their beak to Keet's head in time with their words.

"Warn me next time," they say, still a bit sharply, and with a strange sort of warmth in his chest, Keet just nods. And after they stand there for a few minutes, after Crim's claws finally begin to loosen and they let him go, Keet is surprised when they don't leave. Don't demand he leave as well.

Instead, when he tentatively begins to walk away, they follow. They're quiet, and they don't say much beyond softs clacks of noises in response to Keet's own rare words - but they follow. They watch him as he looks still into more tanks, at more creatures - and the next time Keet finds a place to sit, a new tank to watch for awhile, they sit next to him. They press a leg to his and -

He leans gently against them in turn, feels a stammer in his hearts with the realization that this is contentment, too. It isn't the same as it was before. It isn't the adventure Fable took them on. But Keet is comfortable, here - and, he realizes, is even more so with Crim at his side.

[faintwalker]

for the artist asks!! the questions i wanna ask u are 1, 2, 7, 9, 10, 12, 15, 25, and 30 👌 ive never done any of these artist ask things before so im not sure if thats way too many questions so u can skip some if u like

Even more questions!  -wWw-  

(As I’ve already answered 1, 2, 7, 15, and 25 with the previous ask, I will skip over those, but let me know if you want an answer expanded upon!)  

So, it looks like I’m starting with:  

9. How much time do you spend drawing on an average day?  

I feel like I should say that, due to the pandemic, I feel like I didn’t pick up this hobby on a time of average days, so that may skew the data a bit.  On some days I don’t draw at all, for various reasons, or I only get a small doodle done.  Some days I draw for a few hours.  And some days I spend more time, sometimes even the majority of the day, working on art, usually when I’m afflicted with hyperfocus for a project.

So, an average day is probably more than one hour but less than five.  Maybe.  I can’t say I’m sure.  

10. Are you confident about your art?  

It depends, I think.  

Perhaps I should say I’m confident with where I’m at with my art, in many ways.  I’m still learning and growing as an artist, and there are many ways in which I hope to improve my abilities.  Some of my art has many mistakes, and certain pieces are uncomfortable to look at with how glaring the mistakes feel-- even some of these pieces are on my blog.  I try to avoid showing a strong lack of confidence when I don’t feel great about something, because really: 

The art I do is a hobby.  I don’t have to be perfect at it, all I have to do is find that it brings something worthwhile to my life.  

And so for me, drawing isn’t about being perfect.  If I was trying to convey a concept, did I convey the concept?  If I was trying to capture a certain feeling, do I feel it when I look upon the piece?  If I thought of something silly, does my art of it still make me want to laugh?  Sometimes art is about emotional processing or healing or fear.  Sometimes art is wanting to share something with someone else, hoping to brighten their day.  It’s a form of expression, and it can express all kinds of things.

(If my art is a love letter to something that matters to me in life, do I feel glad of the time I spent on it?)  

When I ask questions like this, I would say that I have confidence even if I have much to learn in the way of skill.  And I do think some of my skill is pretty decent, too!  I can have a lot to learn and still feel good with what I do now.  

Even if a piece is not my “best,” I will still often put it up so as to not corner myself into raising my own bar on what’s “good enough” to an impossible high.  To live like that is miserable for me.

(I grew up in a place where my worth was dependent on my abilities.  To draw and create without my art needing to be “good enough”-- needing to try for perfection on every piece when perfection itself is an abstract concept-- is a way in which I make myself freer.  And so my philosophy on art has perhaps become a strange one, but it gives me the strength to draw as I do.)  

(Sorry if my answer is odd and overly heavy!  I was trying to answer the question honestly, and this was the best way I could think to do it.)  

12. Is it okay for people to ask you about your process?  

Super okay!  If you’re curious about something, please feel free to ask!  

-wWw-  

(I already answered 15, but on some days when I do many little drawings, the time between posting can give an idea of how long they take!  I often post things soon after I draw them.  Not always, and some time is spent with taking the picture and formatting the post, but I did realize that sometimes when I draw many smaller things, I do them in a row!)  

30. What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist?  

Many things, to be honest!  There are things I would like to convey better in my art, so that’s a big one.  Seeing other people’s art can be inspiring-- I can’t word it well at present, but the world is full of all this art and I find that to be wonderful.  Sometimes that makes me want to contribute too, partially out of appreciation.  I’d like to make things that other people can see and have feelings about.  I think that’d be pretty cool.  (It’s always super cool to hear when people like my art!  Makes me really happy.)  

On the contributing-- I like to make fanart.  It’s fun to be part of an online community of people who all like a certain thing and celebrate that in various ways, and seeing all that inspires me to put in effort when I can!  Thanks to all of the kind people who have been part of my positive fandom experience!

As I said earlier, art is a form of expression, and so part of it is wanting to express myself better.  

Below the cut I get dark and heavy.  This is your warning about that.

 To be personal for a moment again: I’ve survived through some really terrible things in life.  One of the things that helped me the most to get through that and to make it to the better place I’m in now, to keep me going on alright, is seeing reflections of pain similar to what I went through in fiction.  I don’t know anyone who lived through a situation like mine, and I’m happy about that, actually, because I don’t want people to suffer, but a fictional character can’t be hurt in the same way as a person can be, as they are a concept.  And it’s not easy to find characters with hurts very similar to my hurts actually dealing with them in a psychologically realistic or relatable way, but when I do find content with that, it matters so much to me.  It makes me feel like I’m not alone. 

If I can, I want to make something of the sort that I find helpful, in the hopes that it might help someone else too.  And that is the deepest heart of it-- helping myself and others.  

---  

Thank you for sending in the questions, jellyfish!  I hope the heavy answers are okay.

[ko-chan-the-blueberry-donut]

More of the Felinette Pregnancy AU

@chocolatecustarddanish

It dawned on Felix quick that his neighbor Marinette Dupain-Cheng was full of surprises. She was a vivacious person, always talking animatedly with her hands and a laugh that reminded Felix of pleasant windchimes he used to hear around his house when he was a kid. She was pushy, but still respected his comfort zone—to be honest, he would have to say she was more encouraging with branching out and trying new things. However, her encouraging was soft and understanding, and Felix wasn’t used to someone being pushy but still respectful of boundaries. It seemed like an oxymoron to him, but Marinette was able to do it regardless, and she went out of her way to make him feel comfortable.

She was so intent on respecting his boundaries but softy pushing his horizons to broaden, that Felix found he didn’t mind when her first barge into his apartment turned into a regular dinner between the two of them. When he had confronted her about it, she gave a sad smile.

“To be honest, I’m kind of lonely. It’s just me and the little one right now, and I like your company. It’s refreshing to be around someone so blunt that doesn’t beat around the bush.” Marinette confessed. He was confused. From his observations, Marinette was a friendly and kind person—it seemed weird to him she didn’t really have anyone to talk to besides him.

She was so pleasant that he found himself spending time with her outside of his apartment at dinner time as well. It was small at first, like grocery shopping together for dinner, and soon it evolved into picking her up from her work. He found out she was a fashion designer, which explained her ability to support herself as a single mother. A part of him wondered what happened to the father of the baby, but he didn’t dare ask. Something told him it was a sore topic for her.

However, he got his answer one day picking her up from work. He caught her walking briskly—as much as one could at seven months pregnant, he supposed—out of the Gabriel Agreste building, her brow furrowed in frustration. A handsome blonde man was following her out, speaking to her rapidly. Felix frowned, her expression bothering him, and he parked his car, making his way over to the two.

“Marinette, please.” The blonde man pleaded with her. He reached for her hand, but Marinette was having none of it, pulling her hand back as if his touch could burn her. “We need to talk about this. You can’t keep ignoring me forever.”

Something about the blonde’s tone pissed him off to say the least. Before Marinette got a chance to chew him out, Felix stepped in.

“If I were you, I would step away from her. Harassing a pregnant woman isn’t really a reputable thing to do.” Felix stood in between Marinette and the man. The man appeared shocked that he appeared. He looked between him and Marinette, his mind trying to figure out their connection, his eyes narrowing further as he kept thinking.

“Marinette, I can’t believe you would replace me! That’s my child you’re carrying!”

“Not anymore.” Felix cut in icily. He didn’t know the story between him and Marinette, but he didn’t like the way he spoke to Felix’s friend. “You lost your right to be a parent if you’re going to harass your child’s mother when she clearly wants nothing to do with you.”

The man’s eyes widened at Felix’s harsh tone. He could tell the man—this boy—wasn’t used to being told no. Felix didn’t bother to wait for a response as he gently led Marinette away towards the car. He opened the car door for her, helping her in the passenger seat, before going towards his own seat. The air was tense, but not between them.

“That was Adrien.” Marinette spoke softly after a while. Felix waited for her to continue. He saw her caressing her belly out of the corner of his eye. “As you have heard, he’s the father of my baby.”

“It’s not my point to know your history. You can share that on your own terms, if you ever want to at all. My main concern was that he was harassing you and you were clearly distressed.” Felix said. Marinette watched him curiously. She wasn’t used to someone respecting her boundaries besides her parents.

“I should probably transfer companies.” Marinette murmured. Felix eyed her.

“You mean he does this every day?” he was incensed by the blonde man and he knew nothing about him besides Marinette didn’t want to be near him. But to him, that was enough not to like him. Marinette was always kind and considerate. It angered him people don’t give her the same treatment she gives others.

“I can usually work around it, but essentially yes. He’s officially in a relationship with someone else, but he doesn’t exactly have confrontations with me in scarce places. People hear, people talk. I’m very lucky I have my co-workers’ respect or else my credibility would’ve been ruined.” Marinette commented casually, but he could see signs of stress from her. “We had a one-night stand essentially. He told me he had broken up with his girlfriend and that he had always loved me, and me, being drunk and lonely and previously alienated because of his girlfriend, fell for it.” Marinette chuckled bitterly. “It was to my surprise that in fact they were still together and he’s just too much of a wuss to break ties with her while still pining for me. Naturally, his girlfriend twisted it to my friends, saying I was a home-wrecker and I purposefully seduced him. They believed her of course. They always believe her…” Marinette trailed off sadly, her eyes glistening with a far away look in them. He concluded that this girlfriend and her had some bad history and this wasn’t the first time the girlfriend pinned something on Marinette. “I lost all my friends, and imagine my surprise when I find out I’m pregnant with that spineless jellyfish’s child. It wasn’t long before Adrien figured it out, what with my stomach beginning to show, and wanted us to marry. He said it was like a dream come true for him to have a family with me. Yet, the damage was done. My friendships were toast, and he never came clean or defended me to them. I didn’t want to marry someone who wouldn’t stick up for me, nor do I want him to be my baby’s father. I’m better off being a single mom.” Marinette stated determined.

Felix listened to her story, his heart breaking at the sound of Marinette’s depressed tone. A pregnancy was supposed to be a happy occasion, but hers only brought her misery. However, he knew Marinette loved her baby, and she didn’t blame her baby. He recalled all the times Marinette talked excitedly about her baby—how she couldn’t wait for them to be born so she could spoil them and love them. It was clear Marinette loved her child and was doing what was best for her and her baby, even if it may not be the easiest solution.

“Good riddance I say” Felix replied. “He certainly sounds like a spoiled little boy. Is he going to fight for custody?”

“I already got full. Filed it as soon as I found out I was pregnant.” Marinette told him, a smile coming onto her face. Felix was relieved. Marinette looked better smiling.

“Perhaps you should add a restraining order as well?” Felix proposed. The less they see of Adrien the better. Felix couldn’t promise her he might not pound the man in next time he sees him.

“Perhaps. I will work on transferring companies tonight during dinner.” Marinette agreed. Felix felt better at her statement. Marinette was his friend, and even if he doesn’t want to admit it, she was precious to him. “I am going to bake dessert tonight too. My knight in shining armor deserves some treats.” Marinette grinned teasingly. Felix felt his cheeks flush against his consent.

“Anyone would’ve done the same thing…” Felix protested. Marinette smiled fondly at him.

“You’d be surprised. If only Ladybug knew you when Hawkmoth was around—she could’ve used a hero like you.” Marinette complimented. It only served to make Felix blush harder.

“Flattery will not get you anything from me.” Felix grumbled.

“Oh come now, Felix. Don’t think I don’t always notice you never let me do any cooking or baking on my own. You’re too sweet.” Marinette laughed. If it was possible, Felix blushed harder.

“You act like common decency is a rarity.” Felix commented.

“Perhaps. It was certainly around the people I used to be friends with.” Marinette remarked nonchalantly.

“Well it’s about time someone treated you like the queen you are then.” Felix spoke before he realized what he said. When it registered to both of them, their eyes widened and each of their faces erupted into a blush. “E-erm I mean…” Felix stammered.

“Thanks Felix.” Marinette said sincerely, her eyes shining, and Felix forced himself to concentrate on the road, ignoring the erratic pounding of his heart.

[hellfirenacht]

The Convention Fic Chapter 4

Beetlejuice x Reader (Gender Neutral)

First Chapter

Friday (Evening)

It didn’t take long for you to get ready to head to the aquarium. You dug through your suitcase and pulled out the outfit that you had brought specifically for partying in. Though you knew that this was a date and wanted to look nice, the aquarium would allow everyone to wonder around for a few hours before letting those who paid for the After Party into one of the Ballrooms, which Beej was quick to inform you was a 21+ event. 

You were practically bouncing with excitement as you changed and freshened up. The hyena that Beej had given you was sitting on the bed, protecting your phone as it charged. Beej was kicked back on the second bed, watching you with an amused grin.

“You know, you look great no matter what you’re wearing.” he commented, scanning you up and down. “But I gotta admit, if I wasn’t already dead you’d be killing me right now.” 

You gave him a smirk. “Is that rigor mortis, or are you just happy to see me?” 

He laughed, “And here I was worried that you’d be too tired for this.” 

“Normal tired is gone, I’m only left with that kind of 4 AM tired where everything is funny and I’m invincible. But don’t worry- I completely intend to pass out as soon as we’re done.” you affirmed. 

“That’s why you’re my best mod- you’re always ready to party and work.” he replied with a grin. “You ready to go yet, Babes?”

“Yup! Just gotta put my shoes on and I’m good to go!”

You grabbed your beat up tennis shoes, not wanting to risk blisters for the rest of the weekend. As much as you wanted to look good, you also had a job to do for the rest of the con. You swapped out your backpack for a small pouch that rested on your hip and around your waist and shoved your phone, camera battery, key, badge, and money in. 

“Ready!”

Beetlejuice just snickered at you as he pulled himself off the bed and looked you over. “I gotta say Babes, you look stunning for our first date. The fanny pack is really doing it for me.”

You pouted slightly. “Watch it, Bug Boy.” you warned in a playful tone. “Besides have you ever washed that hoodie?”

“Nope!” he said with such pride for a second you were inclined to believe him. 

The playful teasing continued as you made your way out of the building and towards the Aquarium a few blocks over. The sun was just now showing signs of going down, though late in the evening. Beej’s green-tipped hair was an interesting contrast to the warm yellows, reds, and hints of lavender of the setting sun. The air around you was comfortably warm as you crossed the busy street with other nerds who were also on their way to the nights event. The two of you cut through the large park where you had held the meet up the other evening, and Beetlejuice slipped his hand into yours again. 

It was comfortable. Though the two of you had only met in person just the other night, not even 24 hours before, it didn’t feel awkward or strange. Maybe you were closer to him than you had originally thought. All those late nights in the chat, playing games, talking on cam, they suddenly meant so much more now that he was there with you. He was real, and the two of you were close, and now here you were, on a date. A real actual date. A warmth spread over you at the thought. 

The air around the Aquarium was cooler than the air at the park. Perhaps it was the shadow the building cast in the late evening sun, or the slight smell of sea water that tinted the air. The two of you easily slid through security and presented your tickets before entering the building. 

The aquarium was large and tall, split up into five different sections ranging from river fish to freshwater fish, to ocean fish. Together you decided to start at the river fish, and you pulled out the video camera. Though this was a date, both of you agreed that even if you didn’t post the footage, it was still something the two of you wanted to remember together. You couldn’t help but be okay with that, plus seeing him through the lense of the camera as well as in person felt right to you. 

Together the two of you toured through the different sections, looking at fish, getting B-Roll footage of cosplayers and at one point Beej even interviewed a fan that came up and introduced themselves. With each new section brought new fish and creatures for the two of you to point and look at. Beetlejuice was fascinated by all the creatures, which surprised you. 

“I’ve never been able to see fish before.” he stated, which seemed like a strange answer. “I’ve never been to a fish zoo or even the beach before so this is all new to me. You know, I never understood the whole thing with humans being obsessed with other animals but I think I get- oh my god they glow!!” 

Beej grabbed you by the arm and pointed excitedly at the Jellyfish that were glowing against the blacklight of the tank that they were chilling in. Beej’s smile was so wide and his pupils were so large that you his eyes almost looked black. It was clear that this man was going to lose his shit at any fish that had bioluminescence. He was practically shaking with excitement as he pressed his face up against the glass like a little kid. 

You did manage to scoot him out of the way to allow yourself room to get some footage of the tangled mass of jellyfish. You agreed- it was really cool seeing the different fish glowing under blacklight. As you pointed the camera a Beej again, you swore that he was glowing under the light as well- the same green that you saw back in the arcade just the night before. You made a mental note to ask him what kind of hair dye he used but for now, your breath was caught in your throat with how... weirdly beautiful he looked. 

He was still the same Beej that you had seen a million times before on a screen, but there were some things about him that a camera just couldn’t do justice towards. His laugh was louder in person, and right now it felt more honest. Not that you were surprised, you always understood that internet personalities were just that- personalities. You saw what they wanted you to see but with Beej it felt different. Yes, in this time and place it was a more intimate experience being next to him and seeing him in person, but you were starting to realize how genuine and honest he was with his audience. You could feel your heart swell at the thought, not only could he be himself on camera, he could also be himself with you. 

“Oh man I’d stay here all night if I could!” he said, leading you out with a big smile on his face. “Next year we’re staying an extra day and we’re gonna sneak in here at night and scooba dive with the jellyfish.” 

“That’s a terrible idea.” you laughed. “I’m in.” 

He smiled at you, his eyes still shining with excitement. “And that’s why I asked you to be here with me!” 

“Someone’s gotta bail you out of jail when your roommates aren’t around.” you countered. 

The tour ended with the last area- the Ocean fish. It took you a little bit longer to make your way in there, as the two of you stood in front of the exhibit, pointing your camera at the mascot of the aquarium; a large orange fish named Deepo. 

The two of you stood there, laughing hard. Beej has his phone out and was going live as the two of you laughed at the ridiculous looking fish. 

“Disney... Disney please sue something!” Beej begged, zooming in on the wide lifeless eyes of the statue that smiled across time and space. “DEEPO. His name.. Oh God-Satan his name is DEEPO!” 

There were tears streaming down your face as you both pointed and laughed. Around you, some other con goers were also taking pictures, while some were looking at the two of you like you were high or drunk. It didn’t matter, the point is Deepo would either save your soul or destroy it. After cities collapsed, oceans dried up, and humans were eradicated- Deepo would live on as the uncaring God of the New World. 

You really needed to get some real sleep tonight. 

After finally pulling yourselves together, the two of you straightened up and finally the two of you stepped into the large tunnel, finding yourselves surrounded by fish and soft blue lighting. You couldn’t help but let out a small gasp as you looked up, seeing a fish swim over your head. All around you was ocean life- the tunnel was right under a large tank, allowing you to see fish from every angle. 

“Oh wow...” you whispered, looking up. Beej took the camera from your hands and started filming as you took in the view. Fish of all colors, shapes, and sizes were swimming around the two of you, feeling so close even though the glass protecting the tunnel was at least two feet thick. 

“I gotta admit, this is pretty impressive.” you heard Beej from across the tunnel, filming a small school of yellow fish. “I’m glad we- oh holy shit!” his head shot upwards and you followed his line of site and gasps. 

Above the two of you, a whale passed over head, followed by a shark. 

“That’s a shark!” Beej gawked, following the creature with the camera. “Holy crap, that’s a shark! Babes, I want that. I want that shark. I love that shark. I need that shark to live.” 

“Well it’s a good thing you’re dead because it’s staying here.” you replied, eyes still glued to the top of the tunnel, watching the larger fish swim around you. It was absolutely breath-taking. You moved to the side of the tunnel until your legs hit a ledge for you to sit on, keeping an eye on everything around you. You were suddenly okay with the suggestion of just staying here forever with these fish. You had no clue that fish could make you feel this safe or content. 

After a few minutes, you glanced over at Beetlejuice who had the camera pointed at you. How long had he been filming you staring at the fish? You felt a little embarrassed now. 

“Hey, I thought this was your show.” you said, trying not to be embarrassed. 

“It is, and I like to show off things that make me happy.” he said with a wink. “Plus you’re stunning in this light. I can’t be the only one that looks good here.”

The compliment felt warm in your chest compared to the cool air of the aquarium. You wanted to brush it off, or tell him no, or even fire something back at him but instead you said something that surprised yourself. 

“Thank you.” 

You accepted the compliment with grace and a smile. It felt true- between the amazing lighting, the outfit you had chosen, and the feeling of being with Beetlejuice... you felt stunning. Moe than that, with Beej around you felt seen. You felt like all your hard work went both noticed and appreciated. Everything you did for him he thanked you, praised you, told you how much it meant to him. He saw something in you that you hadn’t seen for yourself in a long time. For this moment, you could see yourself the way he saw you- an amazingly capable person, a fun person, a giant fucking nerd, a friend, a crush. 

That was the confidence boost you needed, and you felt secure. You felt safe. You felt like you could do anything you wanted because knowing that someone you looked up to and respected so much could see it in you. You stood up and walked over to him, keeping eye contact the entire time. You reached out and lowered the arm that held his camera knowing that this next moment was for just the two of you. 

Beej got the hint and allowed you to stay in control of the situation, knowing exactly what was going to happen next. You reached out and touched his cheek, feeling the scratchy beard against the palm of your hand. Briefly you wondered how much maintenance it took for him to keep it tinted green like his hair before leaning in and pressing your lips against his. 

His mouth shifted into a smile against yours as his free hand rested on your lower back. The cool skin of his lips combined with the cool air around you caused goosebumps to appear on your arms and the back of your neck. The kiss was short, only a few seconds long, but it was enough. When you pulled back, Beej was grinning hard and you could almost swear that he had hearts in his eyes. The two of you stared at each other like the dopey love-struck idiots that you were for a moment before you took his hand. 

“Come on, Love Bug.” you said. “Let’s keep going.” 

The two of you finally made your way out of the tunnel after getting a few more shots of different fish before making your way into the next room. Again, you were almost rendered speechless as the two of you found yourselves in front of a large tank that stretched from the floor to a very high ceiling. The large tank gave you a perfect view of how large the whales and sharks were compared to the smaller fish. There were whales and stingrays and large bloated looking fish you had never seen before. 

Maybe you would take up Beej on the offer of breaking in to spend the night. 

The two of you found a spot to sit in front of the large glass wall as you stared out into the water. In this moment, no words needed to be said. For once Beetlejuice was enjoying a comfortable silence as the two of you put away the camera and just let yourselves be. His hand found yours, and your head found his shoulder. Together for the next half hour, you rested and just took in the view of the amazing sea creatures swimming around. 

Around you, cosplayers took amazing pictures next to the tank, nerds took selfies with the fish, and the two of you couldn’t help but laugh a bit at one pink-haired cosplayer crying happy drunk tears over one of the large bloated looking fish. (“It’s so ugly!” she cried and laughed. “I love grouper fish! I love him so much he’s so ugly he’s beautiful!”). 

You almost dozed off once or twice as you rested against Beetlejuice. It felt so relaxing being next to him, that you wished that you could just spend the rest of the weekend here. But after a while, he nudged you. 

“You still good to go to the after party?” he asked. “It’s gonna start soon, but if you’re tired I understa-” 

“I’m gonna party!” you yawned and stood up. “Give me a sec to wake up and I’ll be good to go.” 

You took a moment to stretch and get your body to wake up. Turns out at the fish for however long you two were there had left you feeling pretty well rested and happy. Your brain was still a little fried from spending the past few days on little sleep but you could make the the next few hours. 

By the time the two of you made it into the ballroom where the party was being held, the DJ was already blasting music and people were lining up at the two bars set up on each end of the large room. There were two glass walls on different sides of the rooms, much smaller than what you had just been looking at but still large enough to peer in and see it was large enough to fit in a few whales. The tanks were dark at the moment, you assumed to give the animals some rest after a long day of being gawked at, but a few congoers were still camped out by the viewing areas, relaxing with their drink and peering into the darkened tanks. 

The two of you bought some drinks and found an empty standing table to stay at for the moment. There was a large dance floor in the upper right corner of the room, the DJ booth next to it. On the wall they were projecting clips from various animes and also Steven Universe for some reason. That was the only non-anime being shown on the screen, and you wondered who had put the looping montage together. 

Beej chugged down his two drink quickly, itching to get to the dancefloor. “I gotta show these breathers how to really party!” he said. 

You had to admit, you wanted to get on the dance floor as well. The DJ was playing an amazing mix of anime, cartoon openings, group dances, old emo music and songs that would make any nerd get up and dance. 

The music woke you up better than the drink in your hand. Beej politely waited for you to finish it before dragging you to the dance floor. Beej was a beast once he was in the crowd, jumping from group to group and dancing with anyone who would let him close. You couldn’t even be jealous when he found himself in the middle of a group of girls as he began flossing like there was no tomorrow. 

You could have sworn he said he hated flossing before. You wondered if that changed one he actually learned how to do it. 

The crowd started to form into a circle around Beej. People jumped in and out, showing off their moves and having small dance-offs. Everywhere people were cheering and having fun. The DJ changed songs, and a spark ignited inside you- this was a song that you knew very well. A specific song from A Goofy Movie that made every inch of your body suddenly go feral. Beej had his moment in the spotlight but now it was your turn. 

You were about to teach these nerds what it really meant to do the Perfect Cast. 

You waited for the right moment to jump in, your confidence fueled by the slight buzz of alcohol in your system combined with your amazing date with Beej. This was the moment you had been waiting for your entire life, and nothing could fucking stop you. 

The chorus kicked in and you found yourself rushing to the center, looking around at the crowd and starting on the dance that you had learned so long ago. Everyone lost their shit. 

“THEY’RE ACTUALLY DOING IT!”

“WOOO!”

“IT’S THE PERFECT CAST!!!”

“TEACH ME PLEASE!” 

“Oh snap, looks like we got someone who knows their Disney!” a voice said over the speaker and you realized that the DJ was talking about you over the mic. You snapped back into reality with a huge smile and looked over at Beej who couldn’t have been more proud of you. As you jumped back to the side of the circle and let someone else take over you got a few highfives and compliments. 

“Damn Babes, why didn’t you tell me you could dance?” Beej asked, still smiling wide. 

“I forgot!” you laughed. “Oh wow, I haven’t done that in forever. I... I forgot I knew it until I did it!” 

The two of you danced together on and off for the rest of the night, taking breaks to occasionally have another drink or rest. Beej had much more stamina than you, seemingly never needing to rest or take breaks. When you needed a second to catch your breath he’d hover between making sure you were okay and running back to the dance floor. You honestly didn’t mind, you loved seeing him out there, making friends and being the center of attention. 

By the end of the evening, as the party was starting to draw to a close, you found yourself sitting against the viewing glass, tipsy and happily gazing out into dark tank where a few whales swam in circles. The pink-haired girl who you’d seen earlier crying over fish was next to you, seemingly in the same boat. There was an unspoken agreement that this spot was the Quiet Spot. Even though behind you a party raged on, filled with nerds, and lights, and alcohol, this spot was for being drunk and watching fish. This was a pastime you could get used to. 

“There you are!” came a voice from behind you, causing the two of you to jump slightly. You looked up at beej and held your finger to your lips. 

“Shhhh....” you whispered loudly. “You’ll throw off the whales.” okay, maybe you were closer to the side of drunk than tipsy. 

The DJ started playing Don’t Stop Believing and there was a roar of excitement from the crowd behind you as drunk nerds scrambled to the dance floor. A chorus of voices of all kinds filled the air as everyone in the room seemed to sing along to the music that was pulsating through the air. 

“I think I’m having a religious experience.” the pink haired girl said, as she stared continued staring at the whales. 

“Me too.” you said, to Beej’s amusement. “Same time next year?” 

The girl nodded in agreement. “May the whales don’t stop believing.” she said solemnly. 

You stood up, wobbling a bit, but Beej held you steady. “You usually this much of a light weight?” he asked. 

“Strong drinks.” you mumbled with a smile, leaning into him. 

“Alright, I think you’re partied out.” Beej said. “Your fragile human body needs sleep. And probably other things too.” 

“Water... food.” you replied and the two of you made your way out of the building, headed back towards your hotel. The night air felt good against your warmed skin, you didn’t realize how warm the room had gotten with so many people dancing. You were comfortably drunk with a dopey grin on your face as you clung to Beetlejuice. 

“Hey... Beej.... are you my... booooooyfriend?” you asked, looking up at him. 

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be, Babes.” he replied. “Think you can handle dating a demon?” 

“Pffff... you aren’t scaaaary.” you slurred, and laughed at the offended look on Beej’s face. 

“Excuse you, I am the ghost with the most!” he said. “I’m the scariest demon you’ll ever meet!” 

“If you say so, neeeeeeeeerd!” you giggled. 

Beetlejuice managed to drag your drunk ass back up to your room, and helped you use your key card. This time you did not immediately drop your pants (much to Beej’s dismay) but instead went straight to the bathroom to pee, wash your face, and get a glass of water. 

“Beej... Beej I got a secret.” you said as you exited the bathroom. 

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

“I’m a little bit drunk.” you giggled and took a few long gulps of water. 

“No shit?” he smiled at you. 

“Not even a little turd.” he laughed at that. 

“I’m gonna... I’m gonna drink this water so I’m functional tomorrow.” you set the glass down. “OH! Oh! I did... I did something smart!” you were bouncing on your feet. 

“You’re the one that holds all the braincells here, but what did you do specifically?” Beej watched you with an amused grin as you stumbled slightly to the mini-fridge and pulled out a to-go box. “Got more food at Waffle House when we went. Because I’m SMART!” 

The two of you turned on the tv to watch a movie with too many commercials as you ate your cold waffle and drank your glass of water. You soon found yourself resting against his shoulder again. 

“Hey Beej?” you asked. “Where are you staying this weekend anyway?” 

He stiffened slightly at the question. He wasn’t ready to tell you that he was just teleporting between the con and his home hundreds of miles away. 

“I uh, don’t exactly have a room.” he replied, hoping that your drunk brain would let it go. It didn’t. 

“What?” you looked up at him. “Wh-where are you sleeping?” your eyes looked like they were tearing up, oh shit, oh fuck, he did NOT want to make you cry. “Are you sleeping in your car??” 

“Yes!” he blurted out. “I am... sleeping in my car!” 

“No!” you pouted. “No! Bad Beetlejuice!” you stood up with a look that would be angry if it wasn’t coming from a half-drunk breather. “Stupid Beej, dumbass...” you mumbed to yourself and walekd over to the tv, grabbing a small envelope and pulling something out. “Can’t do anything without me, I swear.” you threw a piece of plastic at him and he looked it over. It was an extra key-card. “You’re staying HERE for the rest of the weekend you stupid, dumb... stupid face!” 

When his mom had yelled at him when she was drunk, it was horrifying. He’d retreat into himself and tell himself he was as worthless as she said he was. With you, it was different. Your words sounded angry, but your eyes were full of hurt and concern. You didn’t really think he was stupid, or maybe you did, but either way it wasn’t a feeling of malice towards him. Someone was concerned for him, someone cared, someone wanted him around. 

Who was he to say no to that?

“Alright, alright, if it would make you happy.” he replied with a grin. “But where am I gonna sleep, there’s only one bed!”

You looked at him in confusion, glancing between the two beds in the room. You were drunk but you weren’t stupid. At least, you didn’t think so. 

“Beej there’s another bed right there...?” you questioned yourself. Was there one bed or two? 

Beej stood up and grabbed a hold of your suitcase that was laying on the floor in the corner of the room. He walked over to the second bed and sloppily dumped out the contents onto the spare bed. 

“I dunno what you’re talking about, all I see is this large pile of clothes!” he smirked. “I don’t know about you but in my experience humans don’t usually sleep on piles of laundry.” 

You smiled and let out a small chuckle. “Oh, silly me. I suppose you’re right. There’s only one bed. One large bed that we could both fit in.”

“I insist that you take the bed and I will sleep on the floor.” he smiled. 

“No no no, you’re the guest, you take the bed.” you said, grabbing his arm and pulling him onto the bed. He pulled back the covered and crawled in. 

“Nah, I think you should take the bed.” he pulled you close against him, allowing you to take in his scent. 

“...Your hoodie smells awful, take it off.” you grumbled, helping him remove the offending piece of clothing. You wondered if he had been correct about not washing it ever. 

You didn’t hear anything after that as sleep overtook you quickly. Beej’s cool body under the warm blankets created the perfect temperature for falling asleep. Beej held you against his chest and turned on the tv low. He didn’t need to sleep, but he would stay until you woke up. Your warmth and weight on him allowing him a feeling that he’d only ever felt in one other place. 

To Beetlejuice, you felt like home.

--------

NOTE: Want to make a cameo in the next chapter? Click here!

[bladengineer]

Bladebreakers: College Edition

anyone who’s already read my fics knows exactly what i’m about, so lets get straight to business about the college headcanons im about to slap yall with

also all under the cut bc this went way too long lmfao Hilary and Kenny should follow shortly bc it got really long and im just. oops

Kai is the first to go which is like. logical considering he’s the oldest and most driven out of all of them

not to mention he had the entirety of Hiwatari Corp. about to be put into his name as soon as he reached 18 and he’s just like aw man here we go

to be honest? he’s not keen on taking over the company, never has been (excluding the time where he felt obligated to under his grandfather’s influence) and the thought of actually having too just kinda. embitters him

so he gets himself sucked into the whole Business classes to get himself the necessary qualifications – and despite being bitter, he doesn’t half-ass shit so he studies on the regular

it isn't until Max wrangles him into finally giving his own interests a go and he changes his path to a History Major with a Minor in Business

he is so much happier

History, specifically Ancient History, had always been an avid interest in Kai’s books so he basically dives into his new studies with his own brand of stoic enthusiasm

its also the sole reason why he’s been amassing so many books in his personal collection at home, Hilary had implored him to buy bigger shelves after Max nearly broke his neck tripping over a loose pile

Kai likes to study alone, preferably in his private study (Tyson keeps making fun of him for having a private study at the age of 18, what are you, a grandpa? damn rich kid lmao) with soft instrumental music playing – he’s especially fond of rainy ambience music

of course, Kai is often seated at the back of the classes, but is indisputably one of the best students with very insightful and well-researched essays, naturally, most of his professors adore him

except a select few traditional-minded professors – they’re still bitter that Kai stood his ground when they had overlooked Cleopatra’s history and reduced her to the Ancient Sex Symbol and Kai was ready to cut a bitch at the blatant disrespect towards an Ancient Political Mastermind

the majority in his class has a fat crush on him but thats nothing new

Max, for a long time, had a bit of a dilemma as his parents urge him to start choosing his preferred path; was it going to be Engineering like his Mother or Mechanics like his Father, and honestly? the poor boy was so torn

in the end, he confessed he wanted to do neither – he loved Beyblade but it wasn’t something he wanted to dedicate his life to forever

instead, his heart had always belonged to the ocean and he dreams of being a Marine Biologist

his father was very supportive, while Judy had her doubts so it took a little convincing – in the end, her son’s joy was more important to her and she too gave her blessing for him to pursue his dream

Max goes on to major Zoology, directed towards marine animals, and takes up a minor in Engineering because hey, it pretty much runs in his family and it stayed an avid interest of his

his university wasn’t too far of from Kai’s own, so sometimes when he stays over at Kai’s he gets a free ride to class

he returns the gesture by always providing the best butter croissants for breakfast (they’re still warm too!)

Max usually studies in the campus library, noise-cancelling headphones on, bopping silently to whatever music he’s listening to as he reviews his notes for the next exam

he researches a lot for his topics and has collected so much trivia about the ocean and its inhabitants in general

Max: did you know jellyfishes have no brain? Kai: Max don’t bully Tyson Tyson: excuse me?

the professors love Max tbh, he’s always fully engaged within class so they usually let him get away with things mainly bc he’s just their Favourite

pretty sure half of the university knows of Max in some way or another, being a social butterfly and all and maybe having flooded the campus once by accident

Ray also had a hard time deciding what to do and what to study; being from a rural village with traditions certainly made him question wether he should pursue a modern career or stay within his community

the White Tigers were quick to kick his ass over it however, booting him straight to Kai’s doorstep and telling him to do what he feels was right for him

now, he’s managed to get himself applied to one of the prestigious university for culinary arts – he’s not too sure yet which path he wants to take in terms of culinary skill

he loves cooking and working in a kitchen, however after many work experiences he has found that working at the command of someone else wasn't exactly to his tastes, not to mention, he’d like to dabble in more traditional culinary arts

as of now, Ray particularly enjoys the sweeter side of cooking, preferring to create intricate pastries and confectionaries, often stemming from his chinese roots but also applying his skill within the japanese side of things

his homemade mooncakes are honestly to die for

next to his obvious passion for cooking, he’s also taken up classes in horticulture, mainly bc he’d love to grow his own ingredients and create his own sets of spices and various artisan products

since his career path is very labour focused, he often practices at home and takes inspiration from various chefs all around the world. his bookshelves are full of recipe books and general insightful cookbooks

Max had suggested to him to make videos of his dishes, mainly for self-improvement, but also being able to put them online to start a crowd interest for his work

its going pretty well actually, his videos have become quite popular since they are aesthetically pleasing, the food looks tasty as hell and also a wide crowd of older people have voiced their joy in seeing more traditional confectionary being made

his friends secretly love their birthdays nowadays bc without fail, Ray always gifts them homemade foods, from neat boxes of handcrafted chocolates to cute jars of sweet jams

he knows, he always takes time to create flavours he knows they will appreciate

Tyson, surprisingly, knew exactly what he wanted to do, and it wasn’t anything to do with Beyblade

Hilary: WHAT ARE YOU SICK Tyson: i- no? i just– Ray: hold on maybe he’s running a fever Tyson: would yOU GUYS JUST LISTEN–

look, he loves Beyblade, it’s something he’ll treasure all his life, something he’ll still pursue in the future, but

it won’t be what he wants to do full time

instead, he majors in Anthropology in order to pave his way into Archeology and everyone is so proud they start crying

next to his Major, he also minors in Business, mainly due to his longstanding position within the BBA, with whom he stays as a particular poster boy and star

next to his work with the BBA, he occasionally helps out in the Dojo and everyone kinda realises? that this guy is literally holding down two (2) whole jobs while also studying and if that isn't hardcore my dudes i don’t know

then again, he’s grown a lot and his interest in his father’s career had always accompanied him since he was a kid – however, his studying habits are still all kinds of atrocious and the only reason why he can even halfway ace his exams is bc he refuses to go down quietly, actually is really critical and analytical is he puts his head into it, and the fact that he employs Hilary to stand vigil with a rolled up magazine to smack him back into focus should he slack off

otherwise, he’s friends with most people in his class and regularly exchanges notes with them and even has become a favourite with a select few of his professors

most just find him exhausting but can’t refute his elaborate essays, which are both thoughtful as eyebrow raising

he attends the same university as Kai (much to his chagrin) and they stick together just as much as they bicker (one-sidedly) just like old times – however, they are both ancient history buffs and its one of the very few topics that they can be heard talking about in actual peace without Tyson going apeshit when Kai loses interest in the conversation

Tyson and Kai are also those college students who pull ridiculous all nighters to study

Max once got so nervous for an exam he made a terrifying concoction of Red Bull and Instant Coffee to stay up and study

he aced the exam but he cannot for the life of him remember what he did in those 24hours bc as soon as he went home he crashed for nearly 32hours straight

Tyson and Ray who were present at the time refuse to speak about it and when asked about it, they kinda just. disassociate for a minute at the sheer horror they had witnessed

Kai rarely ever communicates with classmates yet somehow gets always invited to all the frat parties

who are those people? he doesn’t know

[tasteofshapes]

IchiRuki, the first time they said I love you and meant it romantically?

A/N: Warning, this is a long text post. This is also for day 28 of Ichiruki month. I had to skip several days of prompts to finish this, but oh man, writing this was SO. MUCH. FUN. I’ve played fast and loose with the manga and LA movie and basically combined both into one long timeline, so this is somewhat canon compliant. Also, please drop a comment and let me know: for long fics (anything 5 pages and over), do people still prefer reading it on tumblr or just a link to AO3?

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Day 28: puppy love / Into Something Rich and Strange  |  Other Days

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Ichigo doesn’t know when it starts. Maybe it begins during one of those lunches, when Mizuiro talks about his latest girlfriend, and the other boys curiously press him for more information: how far have you gone? Have you held hands? Have you kissed? Are you planning to go to a love hotel? He’s too busy thinking about how he can squeeze in more training, so he completely misses Mizuiro’s replies, and is taken aback when the group’s attention suddenly refocuses on him and his relationship with Rukia.

“So what’s going on with you and Kuchiki-san”, Keigo asks, a sly smile on his face, and Ichigo is forced to confront the reality of the nature of their relationship.

“Nothing”, he says truthfully, and maybe the answer pricks at him more than he thought it would. 

Or maybe it starts even before then, on one of their early morning training sessions down by the riverside, when he looked up and saw the way the wind rippled through her hair, and realised, with a startled sort of ache in his chest, that Rukia was fiercely beautiful with that sword in her hand. Either way, the dawning knowledge that something’s happening that he doesn’t quite understand makes him grumpy.

Despite having had one secretly living in his closet for the last month, Ichigo doesn’t know the first thing about girls. He’s never really noticed them except to observe that they come and go in a pack, and they’re always giggling and blushing every time they look at him or call his name. He supposes that’s why he’s never really noticed that Rukia was a girl – logically, he knows that she is, but Rukia isn’t part of any of the girl cliques that form and break and reform again every week like the tide, and she definitely doesn’t blush when she’s around him. She’s just… Rukia, and she drifts through the school days like a jellyfish, invisible and indistinguishable from the hundreds of other students that course through the hallways of his school.

So it’s with a certain amount of surprise that he looks at her one morning, his training sword knocked out of his hand and hers pressed to his throat again, and says, “You look different.”

 “I- what?” Rukia’s nonplussed, but her sword doesn’t waver as she darts a quick look down at herself. She’s wearing their mandated school uniform, not a button out of place.

He frowns, because the way the dawn light plays over her face is a mystery that he is determined to solve. “Did you do something with your hair?”

She blinks at him in confusion. “No? Ichigo, focus. I’ve got my sword to your throat, what’s your next move?”

“You’ll surrender?” He says, and she just laughs at him.

“And how do you plan to make me, fool?”

In reply, he knocks her sword aside, grabs her hands and yanks her forward. She stumbles straight into his arms and he catches her automatically, then takes three quick steps forward and pins her against the tree. He presses a forearm against her throat, his free hand gripping both her wrists and pressing them into the tree trunk above her head. She’s warm and tiny under his hands, and her eyes are wide as she looks up at him in surprise.

“So,” Ichigo says, and he’s proud of the fact that his voice comes out steady, “we were discussing the terms of your surrender?”

Rukia scowls up at him so unhappily that he laughs, and the moment is gone. It’s something that he can’t stop thinking about though, a memory that filters to the surface of his consciousness over and over again. After that, something changes. There’s a subtle, but noticeable shift that he can’t quite put his finger on.

Ichigo doesn’t give it much thought after that, except that he finds himself looking at Rukia when he thinks she isn’t paying attention, and she keeps catching him at it and frowning puzzledly back at him. Ichigo concludes that he would not make a good spy.

It finally hits him one afternoon, when they stay back after class so that he can help her with English Literature. The classroom is empty, and it’s just them, twin heads bowed over the textbook as if in prayer. English is her worst subject, and Shakespeare completely eludes her. He’s explaining a scene in Romeo and Juliet to her when she shakes her head and says, sounding lost, “but they just met! How do they know they love each other?”

Ichigo shrugs. “They just do. Romeo falls in love with one look at her beauty too rich for use, for he ne’er saw true beauty till this night, and then he realizes that he never loved anyone until that moment. And Juliet falls back in love with him when they kiss for the first time.”

She lifts one skeptical eyebrow. “That sounds awfully shallow to me. What kind of love can survive on a foundation as shaky as a look and a kiss?”

Ichigo privately agrees. “Puppy love,” he suggests. At her quizzical look, he elaborates: “eh, when you’re young and stupid, it’s easy to fall in love. In all the books they say it only takes a moment to capture a heart. The small things, you know, like the way she laughs or turns her head, or how she glows in the morning when the sunlight hits her face…”

He trails off as Rukia lifts her gaze from the textbook to look him with those big, violet eyes, and then Ichigo realizes that he’s been describing her all along. He stares dumbly back at her for what seems like an eternity until she looks away, uncomfortable. The silence stretches on and on.

“Rukia, I,” Ichigo says, mouth dry, and then stops, because he doesn’t know what comes after. He doesn’t know what this is, and he doesn’t want to say things to her if he can’t be certain of what he means.

“It’s getting late,” she says abruptly, avoiding his eyes as she stands up and starts gathering her books. “We should head back before it gets dark.” 

Ichigo doesn’t remind her that it’s four in the afternoon, and that the sun doesn’t set till seven.

He scrubs a hand through hair, frustrated at himself, but says, “yea, alright,” and starts packing up too. They’re quiet on the way back, and there’s an awkward distance between them that stretches like an ocean. 

On the surface, nothing changes, but now he’s conscious of her in a way that he never was before. She’s a puzzle that he’s just beginning to understand. 

He mulls over it as he queues up with her to buy her lunch. Rukia has depleted whatever credit she had during her time in the Living World and she has no source of income, so more often than not, he ends up being her personal ATM. At first he buys her things that she’s not used to with the aim of helping her get used to the modern world: curry buns, potato snacks, and canned Coke. She duly tries them all, but then one time he catches her eyeing the ramen stall longingly, and from then on he makes it a point to get her something that he definitely knows that she likes.

Today, it’s curry rice. Meal duly purchased, they make their way over to a table in a corner and he pulls out the homemade bento that Yuzu has made: salmon teriyaki with tamago and deep-fried tofu, topped with a generous helping of rice. He would have asked Yuzu for an extra one for Rukia, except that he can’t quite come up with a good reason for it.

“You’re lucky Yuzu’s such a good cook,” Rukia says, eyeing his tamago, and he automatically cuts it and puts half on her plate.

“You’re being nice today,” she says, sounding confused.

“I’m always nice.”

“Not this nice. And anyway, your face says otherwise. I think half the girls in the class are terrified of you.”

“Only half? I must be losing my touch.” He pauses, and it stings that she thinks he’s stingy enough that he wouldn’t share his food with her. “Rukia, you know you can always ask me if there’s something you want. If I can get it for you, I will.”

A look of apprehension settles over her face, but before she can reply, Chad appears behind her, with Keigo and Mizuiro in tow.

“Is this a lunch date, or can anyone join?” Mizuiro says, making flirty eyes at Rukia, at the same time that Keigo says, “Ichigo, you sneaky bastard! So this is where you’ve been disappearing to during lunch! Kuchiki-san, has he been hitting on you? What a terrible experience that must have been for you!” Despite the sympathetic words coming out of his mouth, Keigo’s giving Ichigo obvious winks of approval and there’s a massive leer on his face.

Ichigo closes his eyes and contemplates if he would get away with murdering the two of them in front of half of the school.

“Ah, company!” Rukia says, and the relief is evident in her voice. “Please, sit! Making conversation with Kurosaki-kun has been such an ordeal. He’s all broody frowns and dark looks, and now he’s saying he wants to give things to people for free? He is clearly insane and I think this is why he has no friends.”

“You poor thing,” Mizuiro says insincerely, and drops into the seat next to her, and Ichigo resigns himself to spending the next half an hour fending off inappropriate personal questions from his friends.

He tries to bring it up again a few days later after they finish a round of Hollow hunting. He’s getting stronger, the Hollows are getting easier to vanquish, and he’s riding a successful post-Hollow high when he turns to her and says, “do you think you’ll still need me in the future?”

“Huh?” Rukia’s distracted, checking the mobile.

“Once you get your power back. Do you think you’ll still need me?”

“Oh. I haven’t really thought about that, so I don’t have an answer for you right now. To be honest, it doesn’t feel like I’m getting any stronger.” She clenches and unclenches her fist, troubled by the way her body responds, and he can’t help himself as he moves towards her and touches her shoulder.

“Well, no matter what, I’ll always be your friend.”

Rukia looks up at him in alarm. “A Shinigami and a human can’t be friends,” she says cautiously, and he snorts.

“Then what would you call this? Of course we’re friends. In fact, we’re more than friends, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” She says softly, uncertainty written on her face, and this is his undoing.

“Of course we are,” he says, and they’re standing so close now that he can feel the heat radiating off her body. “You live with me, and I buy you lunch everyday. We’re- we’re…” He doesn’t have a word to describe this. His hand is still on her shoulder, her hair brushing against his fingers. Abruptly, she takes a step back.

“It’s late. We should head back.”

He’s thrown by the sudden change, but swallows the protests lodged in his throat because Rukia looks wary, and he’s not so selfish that he would push this onto her.

He blows out his breath, says, “okay,” then turns around and couches down on one knee, offering his back to her, hands positioned to catch her. “It’ll be faster this way,” he says when she doesn’t move.

She’s hesitant, but they’re several miles out of town and walking will take ages, so she gets on. She’s a warm weight on his back, a reminder of the storm of confusion swirling inside him. They don’t talk for the rest of the night, and he doesn’t bring it up again.

Things finally come to a head after he fights Renji and loses, and ends up lying on the school’s rooftop staring up at the sky while she frantically tries to rub away his wounds.

“Rukia,” he says, “what are we going to do?”

She goes still, but she doesn’t reply. The sunset that day is a brilliant watercolour of pink and orange, but all he can see is her by his side, head bowed. It’s finally then, when he has to face the threat of having her taken away, that everything crystallises and he sees what this tiny girl has begun to mean to him. But there’s no time and no good moment to say it; he has a month to buy her freedom, and he throws himself into training with renewed vigour. Rukia’s too worried about the possibility of him dying to concentrate on anything else; she completely gives up all pretense at being human and spends most of the school day staring blankly out the window.

Ichigo knows this, because now he spends most of his school day watching her stare out the window. He’s vaguely aware of his classmates whispering about him, but he doesn’t have any spare energy left to wonder what fresh rumours are circulating around him and Rukia this time. He trains harder than he’s ever done in that month, and they talk battle strategies at night, and he tries not to think about how each passing day is a countdown to her life.

In the end, he loses. Byakuya stabs him twice and then it’s over. He’s left on the ground, bleeding out, and her eyes are filled with unshed tears as she looks at him for the last time. There’s so much to say and not enough time to say it. Ichigo watches her go with her brother and Renji, watches the gates open and swallow her up, and closes his eyes against the hard knot of failure in his chest.

Except that it’s not the end. He gets stronger and goes to Soul Society and beats up everyone who stands in his path, upending centuries of orders and rules along the way, and saves her.

“Yo,” he says, and the way her eyes widen comically as she stares at him is worth it. Worth every scar, worth every drop of blood split, worth what he has had to transform himself into.

“You idiot,” she screams a moment later. Predictably, they get into a fight right before she’s about to be executed. 

But he saves her, exposes the traitors rotting in the core, and then it’s all over. He doesn’t relax until she’s been officially pardoned. Once it’s done, once she’s finished yelling at him for being such a fool, Ichigo, is your head completely empty?, they find an unoccupied rooftop on a random building on the 13th Division’s grounds and he lies back against the tiles  and lets out a long sigh that he didn’t know he had been holding in. It’s a months-long sigh, a deep sigh of satisfaction, and he feels his whole body go loose and liquid.

“Why did you come,” Rukia says, and he hates how uncertain she sounds.  

“Dummy, you saved my life. You changed my world. Of course I would.” The tiles against his back are warm from the sun, and he’s deliberately not looking at her.

“Ah. Well, if it’s because you think you have a debt to repay,” and he wonders if that’s a note of disappointment that he hears in her voice, “you can consider your debt discharged.”

He snorts in reply, raising himself up on elbow to look at her. “This was never about repaying a debt, Rukia. You idiot, isn’t it obvious how I feel about you by now?”

Her face is a mixture of emotions that he can’t read. “Oh,” she finally says. “So is this… puppy love?”

He snorts again, staring at her with incredulity. “Rukia. After all that we’ve done for each other, I think we’ve gone a bit past the puppy love stage by now, don’t you?”

“Oh,” she says again, faintly. The silence stretches out before them.

“Anyway, you know they die at the end, right?”

“What?”

“Romeo and Juliet. She’s destined to marry another, but they fall in love, so they try and marry in secret, only Romeo gets banished. So Juliet tries to fake her own death to escape and be with him, only he thinks that she’s actually dead, and kills himself. Then she wakes up and finds him dead, so she kills herself.”

Rukia’s eyes grow wider with every passing sentence. “That’s a terrible story! I can’t believe they actually teach you this.”

Ichigo shrugs. “It’s meant to be a romantic tragedy, you know, the two lovers killing themselves because they think the other is dead.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Killing yourself for no reason is no way to honour the memory of the person you love. But trying your best to live your life in honour of them, that’s how you know they were important, that they meant something.” Her voice grows soft. “Ichigo… if I had been executed, I would have gone peacefully, knowing that I had given my life in exchange for someone that meant a lot to me.”

“Oh,” Ichigo says. He’s thinking about what she said, about sacrifices and his mother, and it takes him a full minute before the rest of her words finally hit him. Then, “ohh.” He looks at her then, trying and failing to hold back a smile. “So, you mean me?”

“Well, actually I was referring to Chad.” Rukia says, deadpan, and he laughs and daringly, reaches out for her hand. She looks at him in surprise, but she doesn’t pull away. Her hand is warm and small in his, and his breath hitches as their fingers carefully interlace. The world has gone golden from the rays of the setting sun, and his chest is tight with joy.

“So, what now?”

“I’m going to stay in Soul Society for a while,” she says decidedly, and he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t interrupt. “I’ll need some time to recover and get my powers back. And then after… after, I’ll come and find you.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Ichigo says firmly. She nods. 

They sit there until the sun sets, and the lights of Soul Society come on one by one, twinkling like constellations in the dark. Rukia leans against his arm and rests her head on his shoulder, and they stay like that for a while, until it gets too cold. Then he walks her back to the Kuchiki manor, telling her about his fight with Kenpachi, and she tells him that he is a lucky moron of the highest order and he should stop courting death so literally.

Everything goes back to normal, only now they try out this new thing of holding hands when no one’s looking, and he feels giddily happy whenever he sees her. They have a few more of these rooftop conversations, and then he leaves a few days later, with the others, and Rukia comes to see them off at the gates. 

“I’ll look for you,” she tells him quietly, as the others exchange goodbyes, and he grabs her hand and squeezes it quickly.

“It’s a promise.” He looks at her for one long, last moment, trying to commit the image of her kimono flapping in the breeze to memory, and she smiles at him.

“Thank you for everything, Ichigo,” she says.

Because he still always wants to have the last word, he says, “that’s my line, Rukia,” and then hurries through the gates.

Returning to real life after that is like a punch in the gut. Everything is loud, frenetic, and he feels one step behind and out of sync. The world moves too fast without her in it. But he remembers her words, so he refuses to let himself pine, forces himself to join in, and slowly, a sort of equilibrium returns. Still, he leaves his window open every night, waiting. 

Then one day, one particularly bad day, he hears the shocked gasps of his classmates and looks up to see her standing at the open windows of his classroom, outlined against the sun. His heart stutters to a stop.

“What’s with that look on your face,” she demands, and he has no idea what she’s talking about because the next thing he knows she’s kicking him in the face.

“What the - Rukia!” He yells, furious, and she grabs him and drags him out of the classroom. She gets the whole story out of him, makes him apologise to Orihime for being weak and pathetic, and then the ball of shame that he’s been carrying around in the pit of his stomach abruptly dissipates.

“You big idiot,” she says fondly, “can’t even survive a month without me?”

He scowls. “I didn’t know how long you were going to be away! You could have given me some warning, you know!”

“And where would be the fun in that? You should have seen the look on your face. It was like you had seen a ghost!” She chuckles at her own joke as they walk back to class together. 

“Funny,” he mutters. “Are you staying with me?”

She turns to look at him in mock surprise. “Don’t you want me to? Have you moved on already, Kurosaki-kun? Tsk, what a fickle heart you have.”

“Rukia!” 

She laughs at his outraged expression. “My things are already in your room,” she says comfortingly. They pause outside the classroom. “I’ll find you after school,” she promises, and then she slides the door open to a wall of noise as his classmates pounce on her and drag her in and demand to know where she’s been. He can’t get anywhere near her for the rest of the day.

Afterwards, he waits impatiently by the school gate, checking his watch every few seconds. It’s sticky and humid, the air heavy with the promise of rain. She comes running up, face flushed, and he’s struck by how happy she looks, how alive.

“Yo, Ichigo,” she says, brushing her hair out of her eyes and all he can think is, beautiful.

“Stop stealing my lines.” He says, and she laughs at him. 

They don’t touch, but they are close enough that their hands brush against each other as they walk back slowly. There’s no need to rush, and they settle back into their routine as easily as if they were never apart. She catches him up on what she’s been doing in Soul Society, and he tells her what he’s been up to. 

The rain starts as they’re halfway back, and they make it a run for it before giving up and taking shelter in the awning in front of a closed shop. Rukia’s completely soaked through, and she couches down, shivering, her hair sticking to her cheeks.

“It’s cold,” she says, sounding surprised, wrapping her arms around herself, and Ichigo digs into his bag and pulls out his rumpled school jacket.

“Here,” he says, then squats down in front of her and drapes his jacket over her shoulders. His face is close enough to hers that his every exhale is a puff of warm air against her cheek.

“Thanks,” Rukia murmurs, ducking her head. The jacket’s oversized on her, and he tucks the fabric more securely around her. His hands linger on the collar of his jacket, and then he grabs the lapels and gently pulls her forward and brushes his lips against hers.

She kisses him back, sweet and slow, and he doesn’t realise how long he has been waiting for this moment until it happens. He’s breathless and flushed when they finally part, and the words that he has wanted to say to her for a long time finally bubble up to the surface.

“Rukia,” he says, and at that moment, he’s never been more certain of anything else in his life. “I love you.”

She smiles back at him, her face bright like the sun, and says, “I know that, you dummy. I love you too.”

[lordshaxxion]

All that apply for Edix!!

oh boy this is gonna be a LOT under a cut bc tbh I’m just gonna do all of them >.>

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents?

“It’s better now with my dad. We hit a rough patch during the Red War after he ran away to Titan and left me practically in charge of everyone, since they recognised me as the Commander’s son and all. It wasn’t a good time for a while between us, but we got better and now we have a better understanding of one another too. My Pa? He’s long since dead, before I was resurrected too, so I don’t have a relationship with him.”

02: Who did you last say “I love you” to?

“..... I’m not sure. I feel awkward saying it sometimes, like it’s reserved for romantic relationships only. Though I say it to dad sometimes, and to Artie too.”

03: Do you regret anything?

“A lot. Not being able to save my Fireteam in the Hellmouth being one, not being able to save Cayde being another. Lots of things.”

04: Are you insecure?

“.... Yes. Though it’s not so bad anymore, not like it used to be at least.”

05: What is your relationship status?

“Complicated. I like Asher, but sometimes I think he just sees right through me. Though I’ve taken to actually going out into the City more at night with some friends. That’s led to a loooot of kissing various Guardians.”

06: How do you want to die?

“I’d prefer not to, to be honest. Though I’d like to avoid death by Hive at least. I’m not sure, I’ve never particularly thought about a final death kind of scenario.”

07: What did you last eat?

“I don’t remember.”

“You had cookies Zavala made you, because you forget to eat.”

“Oh yeah. Dad makes great cookies.”

08: Played any sports?

“Does running around Io for Asher, collecting samples and fighting Vex count?”

09: Do you bite your nails?

“Only when I’m nervous, but even then I’m more likely to just fiddle with loose threads or bounce my leg.”

10: When was your last physical fight?

“Two days ago when I needed to gather samples of Radiolaria and Phaseglass for Asher. I’m still finding bruises from that.”

11: Do you like someone?

“Asher. But he doesn’t see me, not really. At least, not outside of being his assistant, I don’t think.”

12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?

“Yes, and I don’t remember any of it. I try not to do it too much, Spiro is forever telling me off and so is Dad.”

13: Do you hate anyone at the moment?

“Since I don’t count, no I suppose not.”

14: Do you miss someone?

“Yes. I worry for Artemis when she’s out on Hive murder-sprees and I... often miss her greatly. Cayde too.”

15: Have any pets?

“Too many! I have three cockatiels, two cats and an Ahamkara!”

16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment?

“Weary and very tired.”

“Well that all-nighter you pulled in your greenhouse didn’t exactly help.”

17: Ever made out in the bathroom?

“Probably? I know that I made out with a Titan on my first night out when I was very much wasted, but whether it was in a bathroom or not I couldn’t tell you.”

18: Are you scared of spiders?

“.......”

“He stands there like he’s rooted and cries if it’s a big one. He’s that scared of them.”

19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?

“Yes. I know it’s never a good idea, but... I know I could save Cayde, if I could go back in time. I know I could get to him on time.”

20: Where was the last place you snogged someone?

“In the corner of some club in the City, I think.”

21: What are your plans for this weekend?

“Studying my plants and tending to my garden.”

22: Do you want to have kids? How many?

“God no, never. It’s hard enough just taking care of Kilgharrah and myself, let alone anyone else.”

23: Do you have piercings? How many?

“I’m tempted to get some, at least some in my ear.”

24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)?

“I don’t really know. I’m good at botany and horticulture, and I’m learning more about the Light in-depth but other than that I don’t know.”

25: Do you miss anyone from your past?

“My Pa. I didn’t know him, I was killed as a toddler and at the same time as him, so I don’t have any memories. Dad showed me pictures of him, though, and he looks nice. I wish I did know him better.”

26: What are you craving right now?

“Peace and quiet. A partner. I dunno.”

27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart?

“I don’t know. I’m more likely to break my own half the time with how attached to things or people I get.”

28: Have you ever been cheated on?

“Hah, no.”

29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?

“At time of answering, I don’t have one, so no.”

30: What’s irritating you right now?

“Being so god damn cold. I have a sweater on and the heating on and my own Solar Light and I’m STILL COLD!”

31: Does somebody love you?

“My dad does. I don’t like speaking for anyone else I know, though.”

32: What is your favourite color?

“Largely any of the Io shaders. Blue’s good too, and green.”

33: Do you have trust issues?

“Depends who’s asking me to trust them. I trust my dad, Artemis and Dad with my life. Plus Othion and his husband Izel. Oh, and Vigil, since he guards the Speaker. Ikora, too. But the likes of the Drifter? It’s getting harder to say.”

“Long story short, sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn’t.”

34: Who/what was your last dream about?

“I dreamt of a throne world that belonged to Crota, and it was filled with warped versions of the plants in my garden. Everything was a sickly Hive green and there was a broken throne with vines snaking all around it. I was sat in it, and there were hordes of Hive knelt around me like I was royalty.... I think it’s just a scrambled memory, after getting that shard of Crota’s soul crystal in my eye.”

“Yeah, that’s all it was. Don’t think on it too much, Edix.”

35: Who was the last person you cried in front of?

“My Ghost. It feels weird to be crying around anyone else sometimes.”

36: Do you give out second chances too easily?

“Yes. Sometimes I’m too kind for my own good.”

37: Is it easier to forgive or forget?

“I think it’s easier to forgive. That way you can move past it and carry on, rather than forgetting about it and then it coming back to haunt you at inopportune times.”

38: Is this year the best year of your life?

“I doubt it. Cayde died, Dad and Ikora have been arguing, the Drifter moved into the Tower Annex, the Black Armory opened its shady doors, the Spider is very interested in even more shady things, the Nine have rocked up with their Emissary and even with Mara gone, she’s up to no good as usual and I don’t like it.”

39: How old were you when you had your first kiss?

“In mortal terms, around 24 or 25? As a Guardian, no idea. I don’t count the years so much.”

40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked?

“Oh my god no. I’d rather die than do that.”

51: Favourite food?

“Not sure I have one, to be honest with you.”

52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason?

“Sometimes. Not everything can be attributed to that logic, given the nature of this bastard existence some things are just at random and have no or little reason to them.”

53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night?

“Worked on some more jellyfish to give to families in the City. They lost more than we did during the Red War, so I try to give something nice back to them when I can.”

54: Is cheating ever okay?

“No. If you can’t do it on your own merit, then you don’t deserve to reap the rewards through cheating.”

55: Are you mean?

“I can be, but I don’t like to.”

56: How many people have you fist fought?

“Not that many. I’m not all that strong, physically.”

57: Do you believe in true love?

“I’d like to, but sometimes it just doesn’t seem possible.”

58: Favourite weather?

“When it’s raining on an autumn day, because at least I’m not too cold. But also I can just sit by the window, wrapped up in blankets and listen to the rain while I crochet or read.”

59: Do you like the snow?

“Yes! It’s so much fun to roll around in it and throw snowballs at other Guardians!”

60: Do you wanna get married?

“I don’t think so. It’s bold to assume a relationship would last that long.”

61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby?

“Depends who’s calling me that and the circumstance of the name. If they’re taking the piss, and I don’t know them, then I’m not happy about it.”

62: What makes you happy?

“Little things. Looking after my plants, helping Asher, my crochet projects, being able to spend time with my friends.”

63: Would you change your name?

“No. I like it how it is.”

64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed?

“Probably, since I don’t know who they were, their name or what they looked like. I was... very drunk.”

65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

“Well that’s literally never gonna happen, so I’m not even engaging in this hypothetical.”

66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around?

“Yes. Artemis is very dear to me and we have an understanding of one another. Even with our differences, I still feel comfortable around her.”

67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to?

“Artemis, duh. Well, maybe Ikora.”

68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

“Probably Artie again. We talk about the Hive a lot, given our dispositions.”

69: Do you believe in soulmates?

“I’d like to, just not in my own case.”

70: Is there anyone you would die for?

“My dad, Artemis. I’d die for Asher and, in fact, have. Many times. Curse you, Pyramidion.”

[beyond-far-horizons]

The Meeting of Two Minds

Dumbledore may have been Love’s greatest advocate in later years but for now the young and brilliant Albus likes to think himself above such frivolous sentiment. Until he’s introduced to the infamous Gellert Grindelwald that is… One-shot, Rating K+.

‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds. 

Admit impediments’.

Sonnet 116. Shakespeare.

With the The Crimes of Grindelwald out, here’s my take on the first meeting of Dumbledore and Grindelwald. I dedicate this to the amazing Broad Strokes prequel fan film - Dumbledore and Grindelwald - The Greater Good, which inspired this fic a few years ago. Their Gellert will always be my Grindelwald - I encourage you to watch it on YouTube if you haven’t seen it already!

Albus Dumbledore stood outside the vine-laden cottage of Professor Bathilda Bagshot, his hand hovering over the oaken door. Normally a visit here provided a brief respite from the gnawing dullness of Godric’s Hollow, but last time she had casually mentioned a visit from her Bavarian nephew and would he mind being introduced? Naturally Albus could not refuse on civility’s grounds let alone disappoint a benefactor of such kindness, yet now he chaffed under the obligation. Yet another burden getting in the way of precious research time. What little of it Aberforth and Ariana left him…

Which was awful and unkind and all too common a thought infecting his head of late.

I suppose he’ll be from Durmstrang too so I should prepare myself for some coarseness…

He sighed, biting his lip and looked back down the cheery ramshackled path to the front gate. If I can’t manage a better grace I should come back another time. Professor Bagshot deserves that much courtesy at least…

The door opened and his heart sank.

“Albus, there you are!” Bathilda answered the door in a deep garnet dress, her blonde hair pinned in a knot on top of her head. “How nice of you to pop round. I was just talking about you.”

“What a coincidence, Professor.” Albus said, turning and forcing his face into the best approximation of a smile. “I- I can’t stay for long, but I thought I would stop by just to introduce myself at least.”

There, Ive given myself an excuse if I require one.

“Well at least stay for a cup of tea. I’m sure Aberforth can manage till then.” Bathilda’s eyes twinkled and Albus had the uncomfortable impression she could read him far better than he would have liked. She waved him in, passed shelves weighed down with books and took his coat and hat.

As always the cosy cottage smelt of baking, woodsmoke and dried vellum. He wished that smell didn’t seem more like home compared to the house next to it. Aberforth did try his best…

“Into the sitting room, Albus. I’ll call Gellert down. He’s been looking forward to meeting you.”

“Has he?” Albus tried to inject enthusiasm into his voice as he edged around a tower of tomes that had grown since his last visit.

He could see it now - yet another dull exchange where he would have to pretend to be interested in the mediocre achievements of someone everyone assumed he would get on with because they were vaguely the same age.

Come on Albus, at least try not to be so stuck up! He chided himself, selecting his favourite chintz armchair and removing a selection of papers from it. If he’s related to Professor Bagshot then he should at least be intelligent.

“Or perhaps not…” He smirked as he caught sight of notes on Uric the Oddball scrawled across the page he was holding.

“Oh I am sorry Albus, I meant to clear the living room before you came.” Bathilda said as she took the notes from him. She stacked them neatly on a writing desk in front of the bay window that already teamed with scrolls, books and dried inkwells.

“Embarking on your great endeavour at last?” He smiled as he took a seat. “Although forgive me for my presumption Professor, but critics might not take the book too seriously if Uric the Oddball has a starring role.”

“Nonsense, Albus.” Bathilda said, taking his teasing in good humour. “Why, if I’ve learnt anything about Magical History, it’s that the eccentrics are the ones that push us to new heights.”

“My sentiments exactly, Aunt.”

Albus stood up, intending to make a quip about jellyfish hats, but the joke died on his lips as Bathilda’s hand swept towards a tall youth in black with blond, curling hair and an intense, evaluating gaze.

“Albus, this is my great nephew. Gellert, come in.”

Blue eyes met grey and Albus felt a lurch in his chest.

“Albus Dumbledore.”

“Gellert Grindelwald.”

His outstretched hand was met with a firm grip and he struggled not to flush. He nodded, keeping up his polite veneer as any proper British wizard would, only to see a flash of merriment on Gellert’s face.

Albus took back his hand, feeling mildly irritated. According to Professor Bagshot he was slightly older than her nephew so why then did he feel like the naughty schoolboy?

“Albus is exceeding bright, Gellert, I’m sure you will have lots in common.”

“Yes I’ve heard the name. Even in Durmstrang you are famous, Master Dumbledore.”

Albus had been expecting a veiled insult given Gellert’s previous smirk so was instantly wrong-footed. “Oh, it’s just Albus, please. And it’s nothing really.”

“Nothing?” The glittering eyes were back. “I’d hardly say ‘Most promising contribution to Alchemy in Cairo’ is nothing, Albus.”

Albus’s heart gave another lurch at the praise and the way the other boy said his name.

What is this?

Pushing the thought aside he smiled and at a nod from Bathilda sat back down. “Well, I like to apply myself.”

Gellert took the opposite chair and leaned back, stretching out his legs with a careless grace Albus envied. “And yet you are here. Forgive my curiosity but I thought a man as promising as you would be on the Grand Tour by now.”

Albus’s smile dropped and he fought back the resentment that burst up in his chest.

“Albus is very devoted to his family, Gellert.” Bathilda cut in quickly. He didn’t miss the significant look the witch gave her great nephew.

Wonderful, so he knows I’m the newly appointed head of the family. Would that they all knew just how truly devoted I am…

Pushing down the sense of shame that perpetually dogged him, he accepted a cup of tea from Bathilda’s floating tray.

“A noble sentiment - family.” Albus couldn’t work out if the tone was genuine or sarcastic. “And something I’m sure my great aunt thinks I could learn from.” The blond boy took the other cup but his gaze was still fixed on Albus. “But you can’t say this place isn’t full of history itself. If you know where to look, of course.”

Is he referring to the Hallows? No…most wizards think they are just a legend…

“Well you both know my feelings on the subject.” Professor Bagshot chuckled and suddenly all Albus wanted was for her to leave the two of them alone.

“It’s true, I suppose.” He replied carefully. “Although with all due respect to the professor, it can feel like something of a backwater at times.” He couldn’t quite keep the bitterness from his voice.

“Then I hope you won’t think me presumptuous to say I’m glad to have met you.” Gellert’s smile was infectious. “I was looking forward to exploring, but nothing beats meeting someone with the same interests.”

“You’ve also studied alchemy?”

“Yes and I actually found your contribution very interesting along with your theories about dragon’s blood. You know you had our Potions master at Durmstrang almost spitting fire himself saying that dragon’s blood didn’t work that way.”

Albus found himself on the edge of his seat. “You wouldn’t believe the amount of times I get that reaction! It’s like-”

I can’t say it. How arrogant would it sound? That I know better than-

“- like they refuse to see the truth because of your youth?” Gellert’s lips were pursed and he set his untouched tea down with a clank. “When the reality is, it is they who are blind?”

Albus’s mouth opened. “…Yes.”

Is he a Legilimens too? He felt uncomfortable at the thought.

Gellert leaned forward, lazy ease replaced by seriousness. “Actually I would believe it. They are blind, Albus. What is worse - they are jealous.”

“Jealous?” Albus laughed, hiding his shock. How many times have I thought that? How many times have I railed against the Establishment, feeling that they were holding me back? “Conservative, maybe…”

“I’ve heard the British are famous for their modesty. It’s charming, Albus, but let’s be honest, there are many who feel threatened by innovation, especially if it comes in the form of someone young, someone who might actually deserve the titles and accolades they have only gained through decades of toil.”

Albus looked down. “Experience is to be respected.” He mumbled and looked up sharply at the roar of laughter from the other chair.

“The archetypal gentleman wizard.” Gellert grinned and warm giddiness spread through Albus’s body.

He’s laughing at me! Albus tried to force his face into stern affront but the teasing light in those grey eyes was impossible to hate.

“Experience is to be respected but what of talent, Albus? What of true imagination? In Durmstrang we believed that only the strongest, the ones that proved themselves constantly, had the right to stand at the top.”

Albus had a sudden vision of a cold, dark landscape, of mountains, vast skies and powerful, brutal wizards standing on soaring pinnacles with their foes lying crushed beneath them. Gellert’s face was foremost amongst them, staring down at him as he did now with that haughty cockiness.

“Are you suggesting I should have duelled them into submission?” He replied coolly.

Gellert laughed again. “Maybe. Perhaps it would get them to try something new at least, rather than just passing judgement on the rest of us.”

“It sounds like you had a trying time at Durmstrang.”

Gellert waved a dismissive hand. “I’m beyond that now, on to better things. Speaking of which I tried your dragon’s blood solution in a compound of my own.”

“And?”

“It worked as you said it would.”

“You see! There are far more uses that can be made of it, I’m sure of that!”

The two boys didn’t notice Bathilda smile as she was quite forgotten.  She slipped silently up to her study, happy that her wayward but brilliant great nephew seemed to have finally met his match.

“I knew it would be good for Albus to talk to someone his own age.” She said softly to herself as she took out an elegant old quill. And if anyone can keep Gellert on the straight and narrow it’s Kendra Dumbledore’s son.

Dipping the ancient quill in ink, she sat down to write a long letter to Gellert’s mother.

Such good beginnings…

Albus’s throat was dry. Periodically he tried to take a sip from his tea cup and then remembered it was stone cold.

Odd…

He kept meaning to ask about another drink but then Gellert would say something else and he would be lost, excitedly explaining his latest theories or questioning his new friend about his own thoughts and experiments.

I can hardly believe it. He thought, the steady thrill that had been building in his body bursting again into life. I can’t believe someone like him would come here of all places. Finally something good is happening to me!

There was a brief pause in conversation as both parties stopped to gather their thoughts. Gellert was standing by the fire he had conjured earlier, one hand on the high mantlepiece, the other stretched towards the flames as if to catch them. Albus curled in the comfortable chair, his head on his folded hand and found his eyes tracing the other boy’s proud profile. Light danced across the handsome face, turning it molten and cast his long shadow into the cosy room. Albus dared not speak for fear of breaking the moment.

Was it just this morning I thought I would be trapped here forever? Now I never want it to end…

Gellert’s face, however, had dropped its perennial smirk. He stared at the fire with a concentration that was almost severe. A small tongue of flame pulled itself from the hearth and began to dance around his fingers.

“Freeze-flame. Wordless and wandless. Very nice.”

“I’m not trying to impress you, Albus.” Gellert’s voice was soft but firm, and more flames gathered, encircling his outstretched palm like a fiery serpent.

“What are you doing then?”

“Thinking.”

Albus raised his head. “Care to share?”

Gellert snapped his fingers abruptly and the flames were extinguished. “I think I’ve shared enough with you for one day.”

Dismay dispelled the happiness Albus had been feeling but he covered it with courtesy. “I hope you don’t regret it.”

White teeth flashed and the dazzling smirk was back. “Not at all. It is perhaps a little surprising. I’m not usually given to talking about myself so much.”

Albus’s heart turned over again but he wasn’t going to loss the opportunity to tease. “Aren’t you?” He replied with an innocent look.

“You see,” Gellert turned towards him, “already you know me too well.”

Albus chuckled, feeling like he had consumed half a barrel of his father’s firewhisky. “Not that well, I still haven’t asked you why someone as brilliant as you isn’t on the Grand Tour himself.”

The grin dropped as fast as it had appeared. “That would be because I should still be at Durmstrang.”

Albus’s face fell. “Should be…” The words escaped before he could lock his mouth shut.

Away from the fire and facing towards Albus, Gellert face was now wreathed in shadow. “I was expelled.”

Why? The Dark Arts? But they teach them there. What could he have done that would have been bad enough for Durmstrang to expel him?

Gellert’s smile was slow and secret like a siren’s song. “Ah but how could they expel such talented and affable person as myself?” He spread his arms in mock hurt. “Let’s just say you aren’t the only one that was held back by…how did you put it earlier? ‘Conservative’ witches and wizards.” He turned towards the stairs and looked back over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Albus.”

“Night?” Albus stood up, horrified to see the window confirming word with telltale blackness.

Has it truly been that long? Oh no, Aberforth! Ariana! I said I’d only be an hour at the most!

“It was good to meet you…”

“You too…” Albus replied distractedly, then realised how rude and inadequate that sounded about the wonderful discovery of their new-found friendship. He turned back to offer a better goodbye but ex-Durmstrang boy had disappeared up the stairs.

All thoughts of his siblings melted away.

I should have said-

-But what did he mean-

-Wish I had-

Damn.

He stood there staring stupidly at the place where Gellert had been, before realising how bizarre and embarrassing it would look if his new friend came back down and found him still gawking like a lost troll.

He saw himself out, wondering idly where Professor Bagshot had gone.

Until tomorrow then…

There was barely a minute’s walk between the two houses but he stretched it out with several backward glances. A light was on in the Bagshot’s small guest bedroom.

That must be Gellert, what is he thinking? Is he thinking about what I said? …Is he thinking about me?

Albus paused on another doorstep, this time his own. The light that shone through this door was the complete opposite of the one he yearned for. It spoke of interrogation not illumination. Aberforth would be sat the other side, by the stairs so he wouldn’t miss his errant elder brother. Oh no, Aberforth never missed an opportunity to upbraid him, even if he did deserve it. Albus sighed, leaning his head against the wood, then glanced again at the narrow upper window in the Bagshot cottage.

Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough…

Reviews and thoughts very welcome! I’m so glad to have finally finished this piece. Such an intriguing and ultimately heartbreaking dynamic. Also if you are wondering why Bathilda didn’t come down and offer them lunch or dinner etc I suspect this was one of those rare ten hour first meetings between visionaries where she wouldn’t have been able to get a word in and would have gotten the Gellert Glare TM if she’d tried to interrupt, poor woman.

[ko-fanatic]

To Be A Princess: Sleeping Beauty Awakes (part two)

Rating: Teen and up

Fandom: Ouran High School Host Club, Princess Jellyfish AU (sort of)

Character(s): Kyoya Ootori, Haruhi Fujioka, Tamaki Suoh

Pairing(s): (Eventual) KyoHaru, Past TamaHaru

Trigger Warnings: None

Summary: Haruhi had done a lot of dumb things for cute girls, but this really topped all of them.

Other parts in this series: Part one

Taking care of a living animal was a big responsibility that should be thought out thoroughly. It shouldn’t be rushed into, and there were a lot of variables to consider – especially if you had a roommate, who in turn had a big, dumb animal of his own. After all, Antoinette was about as well-trained as her owner, which was to say not very. It didn’t help that Haruhi liked to plan things out ahead of time and wasn’t someone who appreciated reckless spontaneity.

So why the hell did she suggest keeping the cat at her shared apartment? Perhaps it was the way that the girl she didn’t even know was so honestly… saddened by the whole thing. Haruhi liked to think she was strong and didn’t let others’ emotions sway her, but Tamaki’s puppy dog eyes had been successful far too many times for her to truly believe that anymore.

It didn’t help that the girl was so stupidly adorable. Tall, much taller than she was, but it didn’t seem to stop her from dressing like… that. All pink bows and white lace, so oddly young and adorable, even if it should be overwhelmingly saccharine. She could only focus on the tremble of her dew-glossed lower lip and the long eyelashes that hid behind her sunglasses. Fuck, she was gay for those sorts of girls. Innocent and sweet.

However, the answer definitely wasn’t to take in a cat! She didn’t have the first clue of how to deal with a kitten, especially one who was sick. The vet gave her and the girl some advice, of course, but she certainly wasn’t an expert. At least there was google, right? Still, she couldn’t get over the girl’s quiet shushes and coos as the kitten mewled, holding it so gently.

The worst thing was that, after the vet visit was over with and the girl – people just call me Kyo – was about twenty thousand yen out of pocket, she took her to the apartment she shared with her idiot friend. A stranger. Not only that, but she ended up falling asleep before Kyo left, the girl so enamoured with the little kitten – what do you think of calling her Noir? – that she just let her keep playing with the cat until all too late at night. In her bedroom.

She groaned, realising what a gay dumbass she was. A good sign, however, was the soft snores that seemed to emanate from the small pile of blankets and pillows on the floor. Noir had sat herself on top of the little nest rather happily, but the noises were definitely human.

That was when her eyes strayed to the dress that was hung over the back of her desk chair, and her face instantly flushed. Of course, Kyo would never be able to sleep in that dress, but still. She didn’t expect that, even if she was just even more pissed at herself for not even thinking about it for a second. Like she apparently didn’t think a single thing through the previous day.

Noir leaped off the bundle of blankets, the bell on her new collar tinkling lightly, and it seemed Kyo was awake now. Not only that, but Haruhi was just staring at her like a creep. She decided to scoop the cat up in her arms, at least appearing to look preoccupied with something else, but another surprise was piled on top of the large pile already forming on her shoulders.

Kyo sat up, the blankets pooling at their waist, and Haruhi was stunned. Now she looked, she could see the blonde wig carefully laid out on her desk, and Kyo’s was black and cropped short. Not only that, but there was something… distinctly masculine about their torso. Completely flat, the barest hint of their ribcage through their skin, and she couldn’t stop staring.

All Kyo seemed to do was blink slowly, lazily, obviously still half asleep. It didn’t seem to clink, rubbing the sleep from their eyes and yawning. Haruhi couldn’t take her eyes off them, surprised speechless, and when Kyo’s eyes met her own it all seemed to connect in their mind.

They gasped, pulling the blanket up to their chin, their eyes wide and terrified. Like Haruhi was in some way a threat.

“I…” They started but didn’t finish. After all, Haruhi didn’t know what to say, and she was basically a bystander to this. She wasn’t the half-naked one in this situation, “I should… go get dressed. Excuse me.”

They pushed themselves up from the floor, about to snatch the dress up once more when the next contrived, awful coincidence burst through the door, warbling her name at the top of his lungs and carrying a tray of breakfast. Tamaki stopped dead, however, when confronted with Kyo in their underwear, hair mussed, and turned an almost comedic shade of red. Of all days for him not to have the morning shift, why this one?!

“Oh! Uh, sorry! I didn’t know Haruhi had someone in bed- Over! I mean over!” Tamaki babbled, arms waving dramatically, “I’m just her roommate! Nothing going on between us, dude. I mean, we used to go out but that didn’t work out… I’m nothing to worry about though! I’ve got a girlfriend!”

When he finally stopped talking, leaving the room in awkward silence, Haruhi was ready to strangle him. Normal people don’t spill like that to total strangers, although Tamaki never handled embarrassment well. At all. Kyo seemed incredibly embarrassed as well, a flush forming on their face that could rival Tamaki’s, although that was probably partially due to how pale they were…

“Tamaki, thanks for making breakfast, but can you…” She made a vague shooing gesture with her hand, and Tamaki instantly nodded in understanding, all but sprinting out of her room and slamming the door behind him. She let out a sigh, turning away from Kyo so they could pull the dress on once more without a stranger staring at their nearly-naked body, “Sorry about him. When he gets nervous, he just keeps talking. In fact, he never seems to shut up, if I’m honest.”

“Oh, it’s… It’s fine,” Kyo answered almost breathlessly, sounding a little flustered, “I’m clothed now, so you don’t have to keep looking away. Thank you for that, anyway… Sorry, this is awkward, and I’m just running my mouth now too – maybe it’s contagious.”

She chuckled, turning to look at Kyo once more and giving them a smirk. Noir also seemed to have had enough of her company, as she jumped off her lap to go pester her actual owner.

“So… Considering we have a cat together, can I ask your full name? Pronouns?” She inquired, hoping that she looked the slightest bit encouraging and open, not wanting to scare them off. After all, if she had to look after the cat, she’d rather know a little more about this person.

“Kyoya. Kyoya Ootori,” They began, shoulders tense and curling in on themselves a little more, “You don’t have to pretend you didn’t see… Didn’t notice I’m a boy. Man.”

“A body’s just a body,” She shrugged, cutting him off before he could work himself up anymore, “You can’t tell from that, especially as that wasn’t really your choice. I mean, my dad presents as a girl more often than not, but he still likes masculine pronouns? So, you do you.”

Kyoya scooped the cat up, holding her close to his chest. Not like a toy, not how Tamaki would pick Antoinette up as he baby talked her, but it also had the same sort of energy as a child hugging a stuffed toy in search of comfort. Their lips brushed the cat’s soft, black fur as they thought on what she said, turning it over in their mind.

“I just go for the masculine,” He stated after a moment or two, his tone brusque and almost as if he was trying to convince himself. Still, she’d go along with it if that’s what he was most comfortable with – far be it for her to comment, “So, uh. Your ex-boyfriend lives with you, huh?”

“You aren’t that great at small talk, are you?” She teased, “It’s not as awkward as it sounds, honestly. He’s a good guy. I love him as a friend, but I don’t think I was in love with him, you know?”

Kyoya nodded, perching on the edge of the desk. A silence fell between them like a blanket of snow, soft yet cold, and Haruhi wasn’t sure what to say. She could see that Kyoya was thinking, too stuck in his head to really talk to her, and she wondered if he was always like that. Was he an introvert, or was it the odd situation they’d managed to stumble into? Not that it mattered either way, but he seemed different to how he was yesterday.

“Your roommate saw me, and I don’t have any other clothes,” He groaned all of a sudden, face hiding in Noel’s fur. She furrowed her brows, trying to think why that would be an issue, but almost slapped herself when she realised what he meant. The dress. He was self-conscious about dressing that way in front of a relative stranger who knew he was biologically male.

“Well, Tamaki wouldn’t care,” She tried to assure, gaze following him as he wondered around the room, seeming to scan and catalogue every inch as he pulled the wig back on his head, “He’s a good guy, I promise. He wouldn’t be a jerk about that stuff…”

It seemed to fall on deaf ears, however, as next thing she knew the odd boy opened the window, climbing out onto the old, rickety fire escape. She just gaped after him for a moment, too shocked to say anything as that poofy skirt was squeezed through the gap in the window.

“Are you crazy?!” She demanded, rushing towards the window, “That thing’s rusted through, you’re gonna fall! Just use the door like a normal person!”

He kept climbing down, ignoring her for the moment. She had to admire how dexterous he was, climbing down those thin ladders without tripping or tearing the elaborate dress. It was quick, too; like he was afraid to be caught, which she supposed made sense. It barely took any time before his feet were back on the ground, and he was smirking up to her.

“I do this all the time,” He called up to her, waving before he turned his back, disappearing out into the main street. Not for the first time that day, a single thought was on her mind.

What the hell did I get myself into?