#a fic by the empty pen is in the same series

[queenoffishingandcookies]

[lokissweater]

sunday's 𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚

{yuta okkotsu x popular f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu has been in love with you since he started college— living in the shadows of your popularity as he watched from afar how your bouncy and genuine kind soul prospered and shined everywhere you went. but during one of his shifts at the 50s diner down the street from his campus, you walk in with you friends one sunday night and immediately bond over your shared love for elvis presley’s music, yuta stammering and fidgety at how pretty you are up close, and you falling fast for his pinky cheeks, sweet little words, and how he takes care of you every single day.

warnings: college!au, FLUUUFFF omg so cute, lovesick yuta he thinks you’re so prettyyy, no smut in this one!, popular reader, cursing, afab!reader, lots of mentions of elvis presley LOL, little bit of angst, clueless yuta, strangers to friends to lovers.

word count: 9.6k

authors note: THIS ONE HITS HOMEEE FOR MEEE AAAHHHH CAN YOU TELL I LOVE ELVIS PRESLEY? i live and breathe that man and oldies in general, so this is a love letter to him! :] this fic is all of my favorite things combined and it is SO FREAKING CUUTEEEE UGH i hope you all love it seriously <3333 MWAAHHH I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU I LOVE YOU—

yuta okkotsu had never seen a girl so beautiful.

you were breathtaking, watching from afar, it was truly as if the world revolved around you in the most positive way yuta could think of.

you were popular— a beam of gorgeous light following you everywhere you went as you were always just enveloped by people and strangers and friends, them wanting to talk to you, wanting to get to know you, wanting you to better their lives because that’s what you selflessly liked to do for everyone without knowing.

and every time he’d walk in between lectures and spot you— feeling in the dumps if on certain days he’d miss your presence entirely, he’d just stare. stare with pink cheeks and softened eyes as you laughed and messed around with your friends or did extracurricular activities around campus, always giving a helping hand to those who needed it no matter the status.

that’s what yuta admired the most about you. you didn’t treat anybody differently just because they didn’t stand in the same level as you. you didn’t care about things like that, and you spoke to people with such fucking class and poise, that he always dozed off picturing how it would be like if he ever had the privilege of actually speaking with you.

that’s how most of his work shifts went at the diner after his classes.

he would wait tables or be in the kitchen, wipe down the windows or run the hostess stand… and you’d be on his mind— permanently there to torment him in the loveliest way he knew how.

and on one sunday night, you were unexpectedly there right in front of him at his job.

“hello?”

you waved a gentle hand over his face, and he snapped out of it immediately, cheeks pinky and bright, your friends snickering.

“yes! s—sorry.” he reached behind the hostess stand. “how many are with you?”

“four!” you responded sweetly, yuta having to swallow the huge lump in his throat as he officially saw your smile up close for the first time in his life— a gorgeous contrast to what it looked like from far away.

yuta quickly grabbed the corresponding menus and stepped to the side of the hostess stand, leading you and your friends through the empty restaurant and to a big booth— placing two menus down on each side of the table.

a series of elvis presley oldies (a personal pick from yuta) played through the jukebox in the middle of the diner while you and your friends scanned the menu, yuta fidgeting and anxious with his pen and notepad, waiting for you to order.

“do you have a favorite milkshake from here?” your kind voice spoke, looking up at him.

“uh— milkshake?”

your friends snickered again, but this time, you turned to them and shot them all a menacing glare.

“hey!— stop that you guys…” you shook your head at them and turned back to a red faced yuta, smiling apologetically. “i’m sorry! i’m really sorry.”

your friends only looked annoyed as they buried their faces in their menus or looked away entirely— yuta shaking his head softly.

“n—no it’s alright. um— i usually prefer this one-”

he timidly pointed his pen downward, the words ‘elvis shake’ reading from it.

“it has uh— vanilla ice cream with peanut butter and bananas.” he pursed his lips. “if… if you like that?”

“oh i’m a whore for anything with peanut butter in it!…” your hands spread flat across the menu as you leaned closer, yuta shyly laughing a little at your wording.

you looked up then, your eyes bright and excited and yuta doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him the way you were at that moment.

“is that why you like it? because of the peanut butter?”

“yeah! yeah definitely... m— mainly because of the name though.”

you stopped and your eyebrows furrowed. “elvis? do you listen to him?”

his cheeks buzzed. “do you?”

“y/n!” one of your friends harshly whispered to you from across the table. “are we here to chit chat or are we here to eat?”

“fuck okay! jesus—”

you and the rest of your group ordered, yuta nervously scribbling down the names of various platters and drinks before silently excusing himself to send the note off to the kitchen staff.

and when it came around to serving your food, placing each individual dish down for each person— yuta gently settled the elvis shake you got in front of you, adorned with baby pink sprinkles over a mountain of whipped cream with a cherry on top, something that yuta did extra for you out of the goodness of his infatuated heart, since it didn’t come with the drink in the first place.

he didn’t know why, but he could tell that the energy was different between you and your friends the second time he came around, and after hiding in the kitchen for the entirety of the time you were there instead of outside waiting tables like he was supposed to, by the third time he came back around— you were fighting with them.

he quickly retreated behind the bar and made himself look busy, guiltily eavesdropping as he picked up a random salt shaker and falsely examined it.

“i don’t understand why you guys can’t just be nice!” you pushed. “is having a normal conversation with somebody that funny? every time?”

“y/n you always talk to a bunch of rando’s of course it’s funny.”

“what the hell does that even mean?”

“it means it looks odd and you’re embarrassing yourself every time you skip around not being mindful of who you’re having conversations with!” one of them seethed, their tone judgemental and rude and one yuta didn’t like at all.

“like— like the server today! i’m pretty sure i’ve seen him around campus, he’s odd. why were you asking him about— about— who the fuck were you asking him about?“

“elvis.” you spat. “i was asking him about elvis."

“that guy! who cares? he works here why do you have to always talk to people like that—”

“like what?!” you threw your arms up. “like a normal decent human being would? i can see why you’d lack that.”

“excuse me?”

“yeah. and it sucks for you.”

“sucks for?— okay. i think we’re done here.”

“way fucking done.”

as each of them scooched out of the booth, yuta watched with wide panicked eyes while you stayed seated and silent, arms crossed over your chest and lips tight as you glared.

“i don’t know why everyone loves you so much…” one of them muttered. “there isn’t anything to you.”

and they all walked out, the bell above the door chiming as they did.

yuta’s eyes darted from you to the exit and to them through the window outside in the parking lot, watching fucking gobsmacked as they all got in one singular car and sped off, leaving you there by yourself and with the responsibility of the bill.

soft sniffles reached him, and he turned then, your body hunched over on the table as you cried with your head down, yuta’s heart aching for you.

he put down the random salt shaker he was holding and walked around the bar, slowly making his way towards your table.

“you don’t—”

you shot up startled.

“sorry! sorry—” he awkwardly scratched his pinky cheek. “i was just— gonna say you don’t have to pay the bill… i— i can—”

“oh! no you don’t have to do that.” you wiped your cheeks. “it’s okay i can pay it.”

“but they left you the entire bill.” he said softly.

“i know… it’s okay! really.” you smiled a little through your tears, the sight making his shoulders slump.

how you could possibly smile at a time like this was beyond him.

yuta started clearing the empty plates from your table when you spoke up again.

“i’m sorry you had to deal with their attitude...” you mumbled. “and my ugly crying.”

he smiled softly and shook his head. “no it’s okay. you shouldn’t apologize for them.”

“i should though…” you whined a little. “they were being mean the moment we got here and were just straight disrespectful.”

you leaned back against the plush of the booth and crossed your arms, muttering. “it’s not like they were my friends either..”

yuta quirked a confused brow, setting the last of the plates away in the kitchen before coming back around. “they weren’t?”

“nuh uh.” you shook your head. “i had just met them today actually, from a sorority event. i thought they were nice at first but i started noticing they were a little bitchy.”

“bitchy?” he laughed a little, his heart leaping like a little leap frog at the realization that it was just you and him at the diner alone, the cooks having already gone home seeing as it was past closing time for the diner.

“yeah…” you sighed deeply through your nose. “they weren’t being very nice to the other girls there either… and— and when they asked me if i wanted to come eat here with them i didn’t really want to go but—” you pursed your lips, a sheepish look on your face. “i have a hard time saying no to people so…”

yuta’s eyes softened, leaning back against the edge of the long bar table as he eyed how resilient you tried to come across but damn well knowing you were hurting inside by their actions, your cheeks still wet and your bottom lip in a slight pout.

“what they said to you wasn’t very nice…” he murmured. “i’m sorry they did that.”

you smiled warmly. “it’s okay. i get it here and there.”

his eyebrows furrowed. “here and there? what do you mean?”

“from other people that i meet.” you perked up slightly then. “do you wanna sit?” you signaled to the seat across from you in the booth and he stiffened, eyes wide and cheeks pink as he reluctantly scooched his legs over and sat across from you.

“they just get a little mad when i don’t do what they want me to do.”

“like be mean? like them?”

you shrugged a little, but the way your gorgeous eyes peered up at him indicated that he was right. “i suppose.”

“are all of your friends like that?”

“oh no! thankfully not…” you fiddled with your fingers on the table. “a lot of them are really sweet.”

yuta never thought about how something like this could be a possibility, as all he saw was how much you were loved and idolized and sought after by literally anyone who knew your name— but he missed the mark on the logistics of it. he should’ve known certain girls wouldn’t be in favor of you and desired what you didn’t have to work very hard for to get.

he saw how you wiped the remnants of your wet cheeks and sniffed, looking like you had at least recovered from crying but still a little dejected as you slouched over the table, eyes down.

“do you want… another elvis shake?”

you looked up. “what?”

“a—another shake. do you want one?” he stood slowly from the booth. “or i could get you ice cream? we just have vanilla and chocolate but—”

“oh no! it’s okay really i don’t want to freeload over what you have—”

he giggled a little. “you’re not freeloading. i’m offering.”

and before you could reject him again, he was already making his way to the kitchen— hands skillfully prepping his favorite milkshake like he’d done so many times before since the age of sixteen, and now skillfully and lovingly preparing it for you, the girl he’s adored since the moment he started college.

you stood and timidly followed after him, but instead of fully going into the kitchen, you stopped in front of the vintage burgundy jukebox and scanned the selection of songs.

“you won’t get in trouble?” you worriedly called over your shoulder. “i don’t want you to run into issues with your job…”

“no it’s okay!” you heard from the kitchen, glasses and silverware clinking together. “i’ve been working here since high school and my manager doesn’t mind. i usually um— close on sunday’s on my own too.”

the blender went off as you spotted your favorite elvis presley song on the list of selections, perking up and quickly digging into your purse for any stray quarters you magically hoped would appear inside.

yuta switched the blender off and unhooked it from the base, pouring out the frothy liquid into a fountain glass cup.

“you close on your own on sunday’s?” your head turned to where he was, catching little glimpses of him from the doorway as he moved to and fro. “the entire restaurant?”

“yeah…” he laughed awkwardly. “well— all of the time.”

“all of the time?!” you gawked, popping your head into the kitchen and accidentally scaring him.

“oh shit!—”

“sorry!” you giggled cutely. “i’m sorry…”

he laughed with you and waved you off. “it’s okay.”

yuta looked down and proceeded topping your milkshake with baby pink sprinkles again. “and yeah we’re kind of… understaffed right now. it’s just me and another kid.”

you hummed understandingly, watching the way he finished off your shake with two cherries on top instead of one like last time, making you softly smile in response.

he plopped a straw in. “here you go.”

“thank you!” you bounced excitedly on your little toes and he grinned, handing the glass over to you gently.

“i hope you feel better…”

your milkshake filled cheeks made him laugh as you paused and swallowed, the sweetest expression ever on your face as your eyes flickered to his name tag and back to him.

“i do yuta… thank you!”

the way his name rang off your tongue, something he never ever would’ve thought to hear come out of your mouth, to come out from you, sent him feeling lightheaded as fuck as he dropped his head down to hide his rosy cheeks, walking out of the kitchen as you followed after him.

you paused in front of the jukebox again.

“oh! i didn’t get to hear your answer from earlier.”

he picked his head up. “from earlier?”

“if— if you listen to elvis?”

“oh—” his gaze drifted to where you had your focus on the elvis presley selection panel on the machine. “i do! i love his music.”

you beamed, eyes lighting up so excitedly as you looked at him.

“oh my god i love him too! so much!”

“really?” he smiled. “do you— do you have a favorite song?”

“yeah! i have a lot...” you giggled shyly. “but i mainly like ‘always on my mind.’”

“that one’s a good one!” his smile grew. “i love that one too.”

“right?!” you stepped closer to him, and his face flushed. “and you? what about you?”

“i uh— i like ‘moody blue’…”

you gushed. “i like that one too!”

you loved the way his pinky cheeks bloomed and how kind he was— the way he tried his best to make you, a stranger, feel better with a cute little milkshake, his stuttering and fidgeting something that you found yourself adoring and only made your heart mushy with the weird need to pinch his rosy cheeks.

and he loved elvis.

“i’m glad you like him.” you hummed, running the pad of your index finger mindlessly over the smooth glittery surface of the jukebox. “people don’t really listen to him or oldies in general now.”

you gently set your nearly finished milkshake on the bar table as he nodded his head in agreement, thinking he couldn’t fall more in love with you over the fact that you actually liked one of his favorite artists. “i didn’t—expect you to either…”

you tilted your head. “really? why?”

“because—” he stammered, eyes darting around your breathtaking face. “well you’re popular. and pretty. and in a sorority. and i just—”

“oh— i see!” you smiled with blushing cheeks at his quick compliment, but it didn’t really reach your eyes. “i understand.”

“no but!—” your eyes stayed glued to the jukebox, and he worried that he might’ve accidentally offended you as he frantically tried to get his words together.

“i know it’s all stereotypes and assumptions so i’m— i’m sorry.”

“it’s alright!” you giggled softly. “i just don’t want you or anyone to get the wrong impression of me because of those things is all…”

your eyebrows pinched in thought, and he quickly shook his head.

“i’ve never!” he reached and placed a hand on your shoulder, your cheeks growing hot as he did so. “i’ve never gotten the wrong impression of you…”

“no?”

“no.”

you peered up at him. “what do you think of me then?”

“what do i—” he gulped. “what do i think?”

“yeah!”

“i think uh… you’re really nice.” he mumbled. “really nice. to everyone.. to me. doesn’t matter who honestly. and… you’re not afraid to say something if someone is being rude.”

yuta shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he avoided your gaze. “and you’re helpful… you put a lot of care into the things that you do, which are always never for your own benefit but for the benefit of others.”

he froze. “i— i see you around campus! a lot— so…”

your doe eyes were soft and filled with affection and warmth, the weight of his words settling into your mind as if they’ve always belonged there. as if he’s always belonged there.

you wrung your fingers behind your back then and leaned up on your tippy toes.

“you think i’m pretty?”

beautiful.

yuta hadn’t even realized that he had called you that until the moment you mentioned it again, his eyes widening as his wobbly lips tried to form coherent sentences for you.

“well— well who doesn’t...” he squeaked.

“but do you?” you leaned even closer, your cute smile nearly making him want to blurt out that he’s in love with you and that he’s maybe thought about you being the mother of his children from time to time.

“i— i do.” his eyes flickered back to yours. “i do.”

you bit your bottom lip and gleamed, giving into your impulses and reaching up to gently squeeze his flushed cheek.

“you’re so cute yuta…” you murmured, arm falling back to your side and eyes casting over the jukebox again.

and he nearly just about died.

“do you want a little donut?” he asked. “i— i can get it from the back—”

you and yuta spent literally the rest of the night until two in the morning chit chatting, playing various oldies tunes on the jukebox that conspired of mainly elvis presley, and yuta literally feeding you and giving you anything he possibly could just so he could watch the way you beamed at him every time he did— even when at one point you literally begged him that it was okay, your tummy absolutely filled with sugary sweets and drinks.

you even helped yuta close— disinfecting and wiping down all of the tables, sweeping the floors, triple shining the little elvis mural the diner had by the hostess stand, and organizing the menu’s for tomorrow’s shift.

in the midst of you wiping down the last of the big glass windows by the entrance with him, you thought of something.

“oh my god yuta—” your head snapped in his direction, his eyes widening at your sudden outburst.

“what if i work here?”

he stopped.

“work here?”

“yeah!” you nodded vigorously. “with you!”

he bit the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from screaming. “with me?”

“uh huh!” you chirped sweetly. “i would love to wipe down tables and listen to music with you everyday..”

yuta’s ears went red as he heard your soft voice say something so cute, wanting to literally run into the kitchen to the sink and dunk his face in sink water to cool off his boiling face.

“if that’s okay!” you sputtered. “am i being weird? am i freaking you out—”

“no! no not at all!” the corners of his lips curled, and he smiled, genuinely smiled. a big loving one that made his cheeks hurt with how hard he was doing it, and one that made your heart lightly flutter inside your chest at the way he was looking at you.

“i can talk to my manager.” he spoke gently. “i’m pretty sure he’ll take you.”

you bounced excitedly on your tippy toes, unexpectedly throwing your arms around him and landing a big fat kiss to his cheek.

“thank you thank you!”

yuta kept true to his word and talked to his manager the following day, who barely even had to think about it since he trusted yuta more than his own damn kids, waving him off and giving him the all clear to have you start the coming week.

“look look! do you likkeeyyy?”

you twirled around in your waitress uniform, the frilly pink fabric moving and swaying with every spin you made as he casually tried to bite down on his thumb in stupid restraint.

“it’s great!” he muttered, teeth locked around his thumb still. “you look great y/n.”

“thanks thanks!”

and you hopped over, giving him another quick kiss on the cheek before skipping away to the kitchen, him ecstatic as he’d been wanting another one so fucking badly again since the first time you did it— him biting down even harder on his thumb when you disappeared from view.

“why do you look like you’re about to shit yourself?”

yuta whipped around and saw his other coworker, yuji, the kid who shares shifts with him sometimes and spills everything and anything that comes out of his mouth without thinking twice about it, standing next to him with a clueless face.

yuji then wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. “is it the girl? the pretty one? the one with the big ass—”

“knock it off—” yuta shoved him away lightly and walked off, crouching down behind the bar counter and sorting through piles of rolled up silverware and buffet napkins.

“do you like her? yes or no?” yuji leaned against the edge of the bar.

his cheeks went pink.

“because if not i’m gonna go try y’know—”

yuta scoffed. “yuji you’re a freshman in high school and we’re in college. she’s in college—”

“okay maybe she likes them young? cougar moment?”

yuta looked at him absolutely horrified and bewildered. “you’re fucking insane—”

his reaction and response only made yuji double over in a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach and gasping for breath as yuta looked at him with an unamused face.

“i’m kidding! i’m just kidding i know you like her you’ve been red in the face the minute she clocked in—”

“what’s so funny?”

you popped your head in from the kitchen, making yuta jump again and yuji double over laughing like before, you giving yuta an apologetic look.

“i wanna laugh!” you pouted. “what happened? what’s funny?”

“yuta didn’t like the joke i made.” yuji quipped.

“well what was it? maybe i will!” you smiled sweetly.

“i said—”

“don’t say it!”

yuji ducked as yuta threw a kids menu at him.

“yuta has a cru—”

“shut the fuck up!—”

you covered your mouth with your hands in a little fit of giggles, the sound halting yuta mid throw to look at you with wide dreamy eyes— not wanting to miss the way you laughed and the way your nose crinkled with every hiccup.

yuji snickered and he shot him a glare before standing and walking over to where you stood.

“you don’t wanna hear it…” he mumbled shyly, fiddling with a buffet napkin. “it was freaking weird.”

you settled your giggles down and breathed, nodding cutely. “i’ll take your word for it, yu.”

yu.

“eeehh?! look y/n! look at his face!—”

“shut up!”

for the rest of the days and shifts that you spent together, yuta made it his mission to do things for you to hopefully earn him a sweet cheek kiss in return like last time, all while desperately trying to avoid yuji and his big ginormous annoying mouth actively corrupting some of his attempts on purpose.

yuta would try and bring you any kind of pastry he could give away to you without his manager knowing, or make you milkshakes randomly throughout your shifts or small BLT’s during lunch time to feed you, all for the purpose of watching the way you’d smile and hug him gratefully each time, and if he got lucky, a sweet kiss on the cheek.

“i don’t get it.” yuji shook his head during one of your shifts, him shuffling through a movie magazine on his break. “why don’t you just ask her for a kiss on the cheek? hm? i’d bet she’d do it! ooo better yet—” he looked at him with sarcastic laced excitement. “ask her out you little loser.”

yuta’s cheeks were hot as he listened, watching you from the kitchen take orders and scribble them down on a notepad.

“it’s been months yuta. months. i am in agony every day watching you follow her around like a lost puppy even though it’s the funniest thing i’ve ever seen.”

yuta rolled his eyes, but sent him a small sad smile. “can’t do it.”

“why not?” he whined. “she likes you too!”

“because she���s out of my league.” yuta pursed his lips. “and no i don’t think she likes me.”

“oh man—” yuji hunched over the sink, tossing his magazine to the side and gripping the rim in exhaustion. “she kisses your cheeks and hugs you and literally took this job because of you! what more proof do you want?!” he grabbed his shoulders and shook him. “a straight up confession?! a straight up kiss?!”

yuta’s heart accelerated at the thought as he pictured yuji’s words clear in his mind.

would you ever kiss him?… would you ever like him back?

“m—maybe?”

“what about school! do you guys not hang out or talk at school?”

“we do!” yuta perked up, but his shoulders quickly slumped. “we’re in different circles though so it’s always just for a little bit or casually.”

yuji groaned loudly and smacked a hand over his forehead. “it’s useless. you’re on your own man i tried i tried so hard i can’t help you—”

he continued to mutter under his breath as he picked up his backpack and walked out of the kitchen and out of the restaurant, the end of his shift drawing near as yuta laughed to himself over his words.

he appreciated how much yuji cared and how badly he wanted him to succeed, but even though his unrealistic expectations and hopes annoyed him most of the time as he blabbed on to him about them, yuta knew he was just a kid. so he valued it anyways.

“yu!” you spoke from behind the bar, him quickly rubbing his sweaty palms over his pants as he walked out of the kitchen to you.

“i’m so excited for tonight!” you smiled, your giddy little self practically bouncing off the walls in anticipation.

he laughed. “you’re excited to clean?”

“yup yup! i’m excited to clean with you.”

with him.

yuta adored sunday’s because that’s when you were both scheduled to close together on your own— just like the first time you did months ago, back when you weren’t working there yet.

there were no cooks, no yuji, no manager, and no customers. just you and him as you blasted elvis singles on the jukebox and got a sugar high from the ice cream machine as you wiped down tables and dusted off shelves— one time you literally slipping on the checkered tile by the entrance because you forgot you had just mopped the floor, yuta practically jumping over the bar counter to see if you were okay and him absolutely sick and worried over nothing as he showered you with more pastries and sweets to help you feel better.

that sunday night he got a kiss on the cheek.

so as you both bid the last customers a good night and got right to work, yuta considered yuji’s dumb words.

maybe he should just ask?

“if elvis was still alive i would probably sell myself to go see him.”

he let out a shocked laugh. “sell yourself? like prostitution?”

“mhm!” you hummed, wiping down the bar counter. “think about it— his tickets would probably cost like three thousand dollars. where the hell am i gonna get three thousand dollars? i’m broke and in college.”

yuta shook his head, his lips in an amused grin. “anything for elvis.”

“exactly!” you leaned over the counter excitedly, yuta on the other side with pink cheeks and a fuzzy feeling in his heart. “you get it. only you understand me.”

he laughed.

“i think it’d be cool if they brought him back as a hologram and did concerts that way.” yuta suggested.

you gasped incredulously as a hand flew to slap over your mouth. “yu! you little genius! oh my god i have to start pimping myself out now—”

yuta laughed again and shook his head. “don’t do that. we’ll find a way to get in.”

“we?!” you propped yourself up on the counter with your elbows and cupped his hands in yours, him stiffening with wide eyes and wobbly nervous lips. “you wanna go with me?”

“y—yeah.” he stammered. “of— of course…”

you squealed and nodded quickly, seemingly accepting the hypothetical proposal.

but then you settled down a little. your eyelashes slowly fluttering as you stared at him— a slow 50s love song statically murmuring through the jukebox adding to the atmosphere as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

but this time it was different.

it wasn’t quick and cutesy and one that yuta barely had time to bask over before you pranced away. it was slow, tender, and yuta could feel the way your soft lips touched his skin and left behind a burn as he let his eyes close at the blissful gentle feeling, him finally able to relish in the rarity of it before you slightly began pulling away, eyes twinkling.

“…do you still think i’m pretty?” you whispered.

he swallowed thickly, your face so close he could feel your breath fanning across his lips.

“i do.” he whispered back, eyes locked on yours. “very much so.”

you bit your bottom lip as you smiled, ever so slightly leaning closer and closer to him as your lips nearly brushed against—

riinnggg!

you quickly pulled away and ran to the back to answer the phone, leaving yuta sitting there swooning and nearly collapsing on the table, his hands cold from not being encased in your own soft hands anymore.

but most of all… leaving him confused. he didn’t know why you were leaning in like that.

“i’m sorry we’re closed for the day!… uh huh… we open at eight am tomorrow if—”

yuta could still feel the blaze your lips left behind on his cheek as you spoke on the phone, his hands coming up to rub his eyes as he tried to get his head back down from the clouds and simmer down the beating of his heart.

“someone wanted to come in right now!” you exclaimed, coming back over to your previous spot.

he furrowed his eyebrows. “right now? are you serious? it’s—” he spun around on the barstool and turned his head to the coca cola themed vintage clock on the wall. “it’s nearly twelve am?”

“i know!” you breathed out. “we closed four hours ago.”

“four?!—”

it dawned on the both of you how long you had been inside the diner, fully convinced it would’ve been longer if you hadn’t noticed.

so as the two of you mutually agreed to finish up and gather your things— the jukebox switched to an iconic elvis presley slow love song as you were just about halfway through the entrance double doors, eyes snapping to each other’s.

“aw i love this one…” you spoke softly, a little whine seeping through.

a small close lipped smile spread across his face. “i love this one too.”

“do you wanna—” you stopped.

his eyebrows pinched. “do i wanna what?”

“do you wanna… dance with meee?” you dragged out cutely, slightly bouncing on your toes.

“dance?” his eyes widened. “i— i don’t know how—”

“s’okay! i’ll teach you!”

you quickly pulled his hand and dragged him out, opening one door and jamming a door stopper underneath it so the music of the jukebox leaked out of the diner and through the empty street.

the pavement was a little wet from the morning rain as you took his hand again and pulled him to the middle of the dead empty street, the bottom of your shoes tapping and splashing a little with each tiny puddle you stepped in.

elvis presley’s voice softly hummed through the air, but it was loud and clear to the both of you as you gently took yuta’s hands and set them around your waist, his heart fucking palpitating and feeling like he was about to have a stroke when you wrung your arms over his neck and showed him that pretty smile he loved so much.

you both slowly stepped side to side, the air crispy and cold as your breath’s blew out foggy misty clouds due to the condensation, both of your noses and cheeks flushing red and buzzing warmly as you continued to slow dance— yuta’s grip slowly tightening until he was practically hugging you flush against his body.

out of anything that could possibly happen to yuta in his life, he wanted to remember this moment specifically— with you, dancing in the middle of the street listening to the man that essentially brought you both together in the first place, your beautiful beautiful face looking at him like he was the most important thing in your life… yuta wanting so badly for that to come true as he basked in this little made up scenario in his head that you were already his.

“yu…” you murmured.

he didn’t trust his voice.

“hm?”

“why haven’t you kissed me yet.”

what?

“kissed… you?”

“yeah..” you whispered, your bodies swaying. “don’t you like me?”

yuta let out a shaky breath. “i— i mean yeah… who doesn’t?”

your smile faltered. “i’m talking about you though…”

“oh. well you know i do. i’m sure a lot of other guys would want to kiss you.”

the song drawled to a gradual close and the jukebox reset, you both no longer swaying but still holding on to each other.

your eyes drifted to the side. “other guys?”

he pursed his lips, not really liking the thought of you kissing guys, but answering your question anyways. “yeah… other guys.”

his emphasis on other guys and not on himself left a bad taste in your mouth.

your eyes narrowed in confusion as you looked up at him, yuta a little shocked at your sad expression.

did he say something wrong?

“i thought—” you shook your head softly. “i thought you…?”

“…thought me what?” he cocked his head to the side, his genuine confusion solidifying his rejection in your eyes.

“i— i thought—”

your hands slipped from his shoulders and you stepped back, yuta sadly complying and letting his arms open and fall beside him as you rapidly blinked back tears, his eyes slowly widening once he caught it.

“hey— are you okay? what’s wrong?”

yuta went and reached for you, you backing away in response as you shook your head and gave him a small smile, but it didn’t reach your eyes at all.

“why are you crying? did i say something mean? i’m sorry—”

“no no i’m fine.” your voice was quiet and sad. “i think we should go home now.”

his shoulders deflated.

“are you sure? we— we usually hang out until at least one in the morning on sunday’s…”

you walked past him and towards the double doors of the diner, letting your tears slip in secret as you picked up your school bag and swung it over your shoulder, quickly wiping your cheeks before picking up his bag and giving it to him.

yuta thanked you and hoisted his backpack up on himself, ushering you gently to step to the side as he pulled the door stopper from beneath and placed it in its corresponding place by the entrance, letting the door close on its own before pulling out the keys from the pocket of his jacket and locking the diner up.

he did all of this— completely unaware to the way you were trying to quiet down your sniffles behind him.

you were so sure he liked you back… now you just felt a little stupid.

of course— the one genuine guy you came across that you actually liked out of all the others that you’ve met, one that wasn’t like the rest and was sweet and funny and caring and so so attentive of you… didn’t like you back.

the one thing you truly truly wanted, you simply couldn’t have— you walking ahead of yuta in silence through the parking lot with your arms crossed as you wondered if the way he treated you was literally just because that’s how he was as a person.

a good person at that. way too good for this world, and way too good for you.

yuta didn’t know why you were so quiet, his chest a bit achy at the absence of your usual cheerful voice.

when you reached your cars, you barely even bid him a proper goodbye like you always did before you got in your car and sped away, leaving a perplexed yuta standing alone in the parking lot— eyebrows pinched together in clueless concern.

you were acting so weird, and you unfortunately continued to do so for the following week.

the next time you came into the diner (which was literally the next day), yuta was taken aback by how bloodshot and sunken your eyes were when you came in for your shift, not saying a single peep to yuji and him when you walked through the kitchen or through the bar counter like you usually did… and it was weird.

through the bustling of the busy restaurant, it was oddly quiet to the two boys, simply because you weren’t your usual boastful self.

and you were hardly talking to yuta either… which pained him the most. you kept it strictly casual— as if you weren’t completely tied together every fucking day for almost a year now, you just completely casual about your day and about the things you had to do whenever he asked you, your one word dry responses sending him through the worst confusing and sadistic loop of his life.

but it wasn’t casual at all. nothing about you was casual. so why were you acting like this? did you finally maybe open your eyes and realize yuta was a big fat nobody who didn’t belong with a girl like you?

yuta nearly cried at the thought. perhaps you had finally realized that.

but how fucking cruel was it that he lived a year of love and beauty and everything that was just you, getting a taste of what it would be like to live a life where you thought of him as something really special and a life where you wanted to basically do everything with him— only to be ripped away from him overnight? with no explanation?

by wednesday, yuta was dead inside.

you didn’t seem to want to do anything with him anymore like before. you didn’t excitedly jump and squeal and bounce on your little toes when it was time for the both of you to clean during your shift or restock the ice cream machine. you didn’t talk to him about elvis anymore or about another ludicrous idea on how to resurrect him from the dead— you didn’t smile like you used to whenever he tried to give you a small pastry, actually rejecting it instead, and you didn’t kiss his cheeks anymore.

by friday, yuji was fed the fuck up.

“what the fuck did you do?!” he whispered harshly at him from the bar, you somewhere in the diner taking orders. “that woman is like a walking zombie. her eyes have been red like red since monday, and she’s not yapping about elvis anymore.”

yuta leaned against the counter with a flat palm to his forehead in worry, feeling like he was gonna be fucking sick over you.

“i— i don’t know.” he stuttered. “i truly don’t know i don’t know what i said that’s making her act like that.”

“okay run it back for me run it back.” he placed both hands on his shoulders and roughly pulled yuta to face him. “explain to me again what happened on sunday.”

“we were closing…”

“uh huh?”

“she wanted to slow dance in the street so we did…”

“okay cute i love that part okay keep going..?”

“and then she asked why haven’t i kissed her—“

“she what?!” yuji choked, “you didn’t tell me this part! you fucking jumped to the parking lot!”

“my bad…” yuta muttered.

“shit— whatever keep going.”

“she also said that she thought i liked her and i said who doesn’t… and then i told her i was sure other guys would want to kiss her.”

“you said other guys?”

yuta’s eyebrows pinched. “yeah?”

“you. said…” yuji repeatedly slowly. “other. guys.”

“yes i did—”

“oh you’re done.” he rapidly shook his head. “i can’t help you i’ve done all i can you’re my buddy and i love you but i cannot take this anymore—”

“woah woah slow the fuck down—” he narrowed his eyes. “what’s so bad about what i said?”

“you rejected her.”

“what? no i didn’t—”

“yes!” yuji nodded frantically. “yes you did you freaking dingus! yuta she wanted a kiss from you a kiss! she literally said ‘when are you going to kiss me!’”

“i thought she was joking about that?” he answered softly.

“i might die early if you don’t figure this out right now.” yuji spat. “when you said other guys, she took it as you saying you’re sure other guys would want to kiss her and not you! do you understand what i’m trying to say?!”

yuta stayed silent.

“you said ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you,’ which is you indirectly saying ‘i’m sure other guys would wanna kiss you but not me.’ emphasis on others—”

“holy fucking shit.”

why was yuji kind of smart?

“oh thank god!” yuji breathed out, throwing his hands up in the air before clasping them together and looking up at the ceiling, his eyes screwed shut as he shook his interlocked hands and prayed.

“thank you! thank you elvis presley for finally making him see what a dumbass he’s been this entire year especially this moment your music has never been better—”

yuta shoved his fingers through his hair, his eyes bulging open. “holy fucking shit what the fuck did i do?!”

you walked past the bar just then and they both shot their arms down and tried to appear as nonchalant as humanly possible, you not even sparing them a glance as you walked over to the kitchen and disappeared from view.

“oh you have got to fix this.”

yuta spent the rest of the week trying to devise a plan to ease into the situation and have a conversation with you about it, but doing it fucking poorly as he miserably couldn’t come up with anything and yuji having even worse ideas— going as far as to suggesting he kidnaps you and takes you to elvis presley’s home in graceland and apologize there, yuji calling it a ‘grand gesture.’

by sunday, yuta was grasping at straws.

you slowly looked up from the bar as you saw a little sprinkled donut pastry slide across from the other side, your stinging eyes locking with yuta’s and feeling an immediate colossal pang through your chest when you saw him.

“you um—” yuta sighed softly through his nose. “you haven’t had a donut from here in a while…”

“oh.” your eyes stayed glued to the pastry. “thank you but i’m alright. i’m not that hungry right now.”

yuta bit his tongue. “please.”

he wasn’t pleading for you to eat the damn donut, but he pathetically couldn’t get the words out properly either.

“i don’t want it i’m okay.”

“why not?” he pushed. “you love donuts. you haven’t accepted my milkshakes either and you love those too.”

“i got sick of them.”

yuta froze.

you sounded like a completely different person at the moment, and yuta knew that your words held an entirely different meaning to them— his heart literally throwing up all over his insides in distress.

it was near closing time, the last pair of customers just about finishing up their meal as you both stared solemnly at the uneaten donut.

“are you—” yuta cleared his throat. “are you mad at me?”

the customers called you over then, and you quickly pushed yourself off from the edge and walked over as yuta heard your kind customer service voice from somewhere in the diner finalizing the bill for them, the bell above the door chiming as they left— you coming back around to stand back on the other side of the bar.

“sorry what did—”

“are you mad at me.”

you shook your head, eyebrows pinched. “no. why would i be mad?”

“are you upset with me?”

you hummed a no.

yuta wanted to rip his hair out at the fact that he couldn’t fucking think of what to say to you— not wanting to accidentally say something that could offend you like last time without him even knowing, as he didn’t trust his mouth for shit.

“you haven’t looked okay since last sunday.” he murmured. “you don’t look happy around me anymore.”

you pulled your lips into a thin line and pressed hard, already feeling tears threatening to spill.

“it’s just school. it’s tough at the moment.” you mumbled.

“you’re lying.”

you slightly snorted. “okay thanks.”

“no— fuck i did it again.” he screwed his eyes shut. “i know you’re upset with me and i know you’re mad at me. you don’t talk to me as much, you don’t— you don’t take any of the sweets and drinks i give you when you always do, and you refuse to talk to me about elvis.”

“it’s school yuta i don’t know what else to tell you.”

he groaned and pushed himself off the bar, swiftly making his way around the counter to stand right in front of you as your pretty red eyes widened, your body immediately fidgeting.

“please… i miss you.” he mumbled, and your bottom lip started to wobble. “i miss when you wanted me around.”

“i— i do want you around.” you said, so so softly he could barely hear you.

“then please tell me what you’re feeling.”

you brought your hands up and pressed your fingers into your eyes, trying your absolute hardest to keep the tears inside as your body trembled.

“it’s all me it’s not you so— so please don’t worry about it it’s school and— and—”

“i love you.”

you paused.

yuta shakily pried your fingers away from your eyes, holding them in his hands as silent tears escaped down your cheeks.

you shook your head. “no you don’t. you’re just saying that—”

“i love you.”

“stop it you’re being mean i don’t need you to tell me you love me because you feel bad for me—”

you tried to tear your hands away but his grip only tightened as he shook his head and wrung you in, pressing your hands flat over his heart and holding them there as he leaned and pushed his lips to yours, the taste and feeling of you complete fucking paradise as he hoped that the weight of his lips were conveying how much he truly fucking loved you, how much he truly needed you in his life and how much he wanted you to treat him like he was something to you again.

he was tired of you carrying around the missing half of him, but not because he wanted you to give it back.

he wanted you to keep it. he wanted you to keep it forever and ever and not let it dangle over ineptly like you’d done for the past week. he wanted you to kiss it and shove it next to your heart and keep it there snug where it belonged until the day that he died.

the jukebox murmured another soft 50s tune, you slowly but surely letting your tense shoulders relax as you allowed your lips to move against his, your heart screaming and zooming through your bones at the fact that this man was kissing you like you’d wanted and dreamed for him to do so badly for the past year.

you both slowly pulled away with your lips quietly smacking apart, your stunning face finally looking at him the way you always did, the way you used to, even if it was a little timid still.

“are you lying?” you murmured.

his eyes softened as he gently shook his head.

“absolutely not.”

“but you rejected me.”

he sighed through his nose, his hands still pressing yours over his heart as you felt it beat rapidly under your palms.

“i— i didn’t mean to. i swear to god i didn’t mean to.” he gently dropped his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “i was being stupid and worded everything wrong. but— but i’m telling you now that i wanted to kiss you… so fucking bad. you’re too pretty for me so i honestly thought i just didn’t stand a chance…”

you couldn’t believe it.

“i don’t want other guys to kiss you.” he continued. “not at all… just me.”

“just you?” you murmured, and he nodded against your forehead.

“just me.” he propped his chin on the top of your head. “i’m sorry i hurt you and made you cry.”

“no yu…” you spoke gently. “i’m sorry too. and i’m sorry i said i was sick of the sweets you give me… i was lying i love them.”

he chuckled softly.

“it’s okay… i know.” yuta gently caressed your fingers with his thumbs. “but i love you pretty.”

“i love you.” you whispered, and you slid your hands up his chest and around his neck, pulling him down in a warm embrace as he copied and pulled your body to his so so tightly, your hearts beating in time with one another as he felt his fingertips go numb at your confession, kissing your soft little cheeks over and over and over again until he got giggles out of you.

yuta loved sunday’s… and so did you.

and when he asked you to be his girlfriend that same night while standing over the jukebox, staring at the elvis presley song selection like you’d done many times together before in the past, yuta for the first time realized that he hadn’t felt alone since the moment you came into the diner with your mean friends— finding himself actually thanking them in his head for that, realizing that if they hadn’t then you probably would’ve left with them and he would’ve never gotten the chance to speak to you that night.

the next time you both came into work, you back to your usual jumpy self as you took every pastry that yuta gave you again and babbled about elvis and how you were gonna spend your hypothetical prostitution money on a flight to memphis to see his grave and pay your respects, yuji was elated.

“what happened?! you have to tell me what happened come on you can’t keep it from me i’m just a boy—”

you skipped into the kitchen then and smoothly walked in between them, pressing a gentle cute peck to yuta’s lips before grabbing what you needed from the back and walking back out, yuji’s mouth flinging open and his jaw hitting the fucking floor.

“how— what— when— where—”

you stepped back in after a second and bounded over next to yuta, his eyes soft as he watched you lean your head on his shoulder.

“what?” you asked. “what’s wrong yuji?”

“oh god no!” he wailed, dramatically throwing an arm over his eyes in agony. “i thought this is what i wanted but it’s not! i want a kiss like that man!”

he flew to his knees in front of you and took your hand in his. “y/n why can’t you just wait for me please?! wait five years you’re so pretty i won’t confuse you like this dingbat and i’ll give you better sweets and milkshakes than him please!—”

yuta took your hand and slapped yuji’s away. “you freak stand up man the floor is dirty—”

“i need a popular gorgeous girlfriend like you yuta! how could you do this?! i thought we were brothers?! what spell did you cast?! have you ever learned jujutsu?! what have i done!—”

your manager popped his head into the kitchen and you all stiffened.

“yuji why are you crying? everyone outside can hear you, kid.”

yuji flew to his feet and shook his head. “m’not crying sir. everything is fine just fine and dandy sir.”

“okay… well can you check on your tables? leave yuta and y/n to work.”

“yes sir i’ll check on them sir.”

your manager nodded, muttering something about today’s generation as he left and went back inside his office, yuji walking out of the kitchen shortly after with his head down as you both tried your hardest to keep your laughter in, hands tightly clasped over your mouths and silently snickering to keep yuji from hearing it on the other side.

“p—poor him.” you heaved, a hand over your chest. “i hope— i hope he finds his ‘popular girlfriend’ when he’s older.”

“i wish her luck.” he muttered, and your hand slapped back over your mouth again as you burst into another fit of giggles alongside him.

yuta sheepishly outstretched his arms for you once you both settled down, you perking up excitedly with a cutesy little grin as you skipped into them, your arms wrapping snug around his torso as he brought his around your shoulders and squeezed, earning a tiny squeak from you that made him laugh.

he hoped to god he wasn’t dreaming.

yuta started shifting his weight from one to the other, gently moving and swaying you side to side in the kitchen as you giggled and let him lead you like that.

“you slow dancing yu?” you murmured softly, head coming up to give him a kiss on the cheek as he blushed.

“yeah..” he hummed. “i like it when we do.”

“i do too yu… it’s like our little thing! we’re so vintage.”

he snorted, and a charming beautiful smile spread across your face— one that made him wonder how he ever managed to land you when all he did was wait tables and stutter foolishly and wasn’t anyone particularly special like you were.

but you. you were everything. everything and way fucking more as you looked at him like he built the diner himself brick by brick for reasons he still couldn’t understand why.

yuta spoke after a moment.

“…what do you think of me?” he murmured suddenly, cheek mushing up against the side of your head as your brows furrowed.

“what do i think of you?” you asked, your perplexed face slowly shifting to one of realization as it dawned on you how yuta was reiterating your words to him from when you first met.

he grinned. “yeah.”

you pulled back to face him.

“i think you’re kind… you always have been even when i didn’t deserve it.”

his jaw dropped. “what? didn’t deserve it?—”

“i’m not finished!” you pouted, and he playfully rolled his eyes as he shut his lips.

“you’re too good to me yu…” you sighed a little. “you’re so helpful and selfless, and even when things piss you off you still take the time to appreciate them… like yuji.”

you both snickered then, and yuta brought his head down and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck.

“i love the way you love, yuta. i love the way you love me and take care of me and always feed me…” you giggled. “without me ever having to ask.”

you felt his arms tighten around you.

“don’t ever think that you aren’t special to me or anyone or i’ll kill you and go to graceland without you.”

he laughed loudly in your neck and pulled back, half lidded ditzy loving eyes staring back as he leaned in and kissed you— gentle and delicate, his hands coming up to cup your warm cheeks.

“jesus man table nine would not stop asking me for— oh god no!”

you and yuta jumped apart, yuji immediately wailing and crying again as he flung himself to the floor on his knees.

“really?! in my kitchen?! in front of my face?! how cruel can you be yuta?! y/n can you maybe give me a ki—”

yuta leaned down and smacked him upside the head.

“owwwuhh! what’s wrong with just one little kiss man?!—”

“cut. it. out!—”

and just like always, the week came and went, sunday fast approaching as the day eventually came to close the diner together like lovely clockwork— wiping down tables and sweeping the floors, organizing the menu’s and restocking the crayons for the little kids, gulping down milkshakes with yuta like water as you worked…

but most importantly— sharing long kisses in between each sweeping rotation, kissing and pinching his cheeks repeatedly whenever he asked or did literally anything, and slow dancing to the same 50s love song that played when you first tried to kiss him at the bar that one night, swaying together in a silly way and giggling whenever you’d both nearly topple over to the floor— yuta beaming and lovesick as he looked down at your gorgeous smile and your gorgeous face… it gleaming with so much purpose, so much pure love and importance and value for him as you danced—

that yuta decided he wanted you to keep the other remaining half of him too.

forever.

this! is the song that was playing when reader was about to give yuta a kissy kissy on the bar counter, and again at the end if you’re curious :3 it was playing when i wrote it and it literally fit so well and lifted my entire body and spirit and i felt like i was THERE MAN! <333

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs

(HATE when tumblr doesn’t let me tag some of yall i don’t know why it does that!!)

[viceroywrites]

deja vu - part 1

i decided to make a full-fledged multi-chapter fic out of this idea that i posted a few days ago with a cyoa ending potentially

thanks so much to everyone who showed so much love for it and hope you enjoy this series!

this is my first time writing for gravity falls so i hope to do it justice!

planning out your road trip through the pacific northwest, you find yourself inexplicably drawn to the town of gravity falls.

little did you know that this town held more memories than you could have possibly imagined.

too bad you didn't remember any of them.

stan x fem!reader/ford x fem!reader

original fic idea | part two

tag list: @awitchersbard / @theilluminatidragonqueen / @jazzypop-op/ @maryclanders/ @chaimshelii /

@starship606/ @swimmingrascalbatdragon / @stanfordsbaby

He wasn’t in bed.

You woke up in the middle of the night to find the space beside you empty, the blankets cool to touch, indicating that a warm body had not even slipped into the sheets. Begrudgingly, you slip out of the warm comfort of your bed to search for your lover.

Your bare feet pad against the wood floorboards, creaking with each step you take. Your fingers balancing a candle that you used to illuminate the way, too lazy to try and turn on the lights. 

You descend down to the basement, pushing open the metal door that reveals an intricate lab full of oddities and gadgets with a triangle shaped portal looming just behind the glass window. You let out a yawn, approaching the figure that had his back turned towards you. His six-fingers spin the pen in his hand effortlessly as he rests his chin in the palm of his hand.

Your soft yet groggy voice calls out as you place your hand on his shoulder, “Ford, come to bed. Your research will be here in the morning.”

Stanford jumps at your sudden touch before relaxing when he hears the sound of your voice. He puts his pen down, placing his hand over yours with his thumb running soothingly over the back of your hand, “I’ll be there soon, just head back upstairs. I just need to finish this last equation that's been driving me mad the whole day.”

“Stanford…” You say with an edge to your voice, knowing that he could easily stay up the rest of the night working tirelessly on this portal that he had been working on for the past few months.

“Alright… I concede. You win this round, my dear.” Ford sighs, turning to face you finally with a tired smile. He gets up from his seat, pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head before following you up the stairs but not before looking back at the portal.

-

You had the dream again.

It always starts the same. Walking down a staircase, the floorboards creaked with each step you took. Your eyelids feel heavy almost as if you’re resisting the urge to fall asleep. Your feet carrying you down to a basement. The warm flames of the candle you hold illuminating the way.

Your fingertips push the cool metal frame of the door to reveal a figure sitting in front of a desk, facing away from you. Your hand reaches out to touch their shoulder and as they turn around to reveal their face to you, you awaken.

Your eyes open abruptly, staring at the dark ceiling as your alarm echoes through the empty room. Slowly sitting up in bed, you instinctively reach across to turn off your alarm and turn on your lamp before your hand reaches to open the drawer of your bedside table, feeling around for something. Your fingertips brush against leather and wrap around the item, pulling it out to reveal a journal.

These dreams happened almost every night over the years. It had gotten to a point where you started logging them, just trying to find any pattern or meaning behind them.

You turn to the page labeled ‘The Basement’ - adding another tally mark in the margins that you used to keep track of the frequency of each dream. You close your eyes, trying to conjure up any distinguishable features from this mystery person but nothing new arises. 

Sighing, you shut the leather-bound journal, putting it to the side.

Now was not the time to be worrying about your cryptic dreams, you were supposed to be getting ready for the trip you had been planning for the past few months. 

A road trip through the Pacific Northwest, starting in Northern California and making your way up to Seattle.

You hop out of bed to start getting ready for your journey ahead. After completing your morning routine and slipping on some comfortable clothing for the long drive, you make your way to the kitchen, grabbing the map that was stuck to the fridge with a magnet from your alma mater, Backupsmore. 

Having already packed your bags into the car the night before, your feet make a beeline out the door, wanting to hit the road before sunrise to give you enough time to hit the places you wanted to visit on the way up to your final destination for the day, Portland. 

Unraveling the map in your lap, your eyes scan over it, reviewing over the route you had planned out today. Your gaze lingered on one particular spot you had circled closer to Portland that was unlike any of the stops you had chosen.

Gravity Falls.

You couldn’t explain what drew you in to choose this town to stop in out of all the surrounding towns near Portland. You knew that you had an old friend, Fiddleford, who had moved out to this area to do research. You had even visited him once during his time out there. However, you hadn’t heard from Fiddleford in years, correspondence seemingly dropping off as he stopped answering your calls and your letters always ended up returning to you.

Trying to push aside thoughts of your lost connection, you put your car in reverse, pulling out of your parking spot and heading out onto the open road. The winding roads take you through the lush forests that enveloped the region. As each hour passed, you could see the sun slowly starting to make its way up the horizon and decided to stop to watch the sunrise at Redwood National Park. 

After the brief stop that you used to stretch your legs and grab a cup of coffee, you make your way back on the road. Your original plan was to stop at almost every National Park on the way up to Oregon but after hitting a pocket of traffic that put you behind a whole hour, you decide to skip a few stops and make your way directly to the town of Gravity Falls, figuring it would be your last stop with the remaining amount of daylight you had left.

Unfortunately, you had hit another bump in the road, pretty much derailing the first day of your methodically planned out trip.

Your car had suddenly stopped in the middle of the forest about five miles out from the town.

Cursing under your breath, you step out to assess the cause of your delay. Your hands pop open the hood of your car, breathing a slight sigh of relief when you don’t see any steam or smoke. Figuring that the most likely cause is the battery dying on you, you pull out your phone, trying to look up the nearest towing company to hopefully bring you into town to get it looked at.

As you’re waiting for the screen to load due to the poor signal out in this forested area, a gruff voice calls out, asking if you need a hand.

You look up to see a red convertible with the phrase ‘El Diablo’ etched on the side on the other side of the road. Its owner, a man with gray hair, glasses and a stubbled yet chiseled jawline, wearing a black tank, a shiny medallion that sat on his exposed graying chest hairs, and a brown leather jacket, stares back at you, one hand on the steering wheel while his arm dangles lazily outside of the rolled down window.

You pause, taken aback as something about his features seems… familiar. You quickly snap out of your stupor, realizing you’ve just been standing there in silence.

"Uhm… yeah if you have jumper cables, I just need to get my car running to get to the next town and hopefully get a replacement battery,” You reply, figuring this option would be way cheaper than hiring a whole tow truck.

"Of course, I have jumper cables, toots - look at my car, you think I haven't been stranded out here myself." The stranger chuckles, making an effortless U-Turn with one hand before pulling his car close to yours. Your cheeks warm at the nickname given to you by this man you met literally seconds ago, This guy’s a total silver fox.

You step to the side to give him access to hook up the jumper cables after he fishes them out of his own trunk. You both stand in silence while he attaches the cables to your car before his deep voice cuts through, "So uh, what brings you out here? You just driving through?"

You almost chuckle at his awkward attempt to make small talk, "Sort of. I'm doing a whole road trip through the Pacific Northwest. I was gonna check out this town ahead, Gravity Falls, before I make my way up to Portland."

The older man blinks, expecting you to just be passing through the town at this time of a day. Normally, tourists only stop into town in the early hours of the day on their own journeys up north. His lips spread into a grin, pulling out a business card from his leather jacket. "Well, if you're stopping by, you gotta check out the Mystery Shack! One stop shop for mysterious oddities!"

You take the business card with a giant question mark on the front. He retreats back to his car, turning on his engine before nodding over at you as a signal for you to start up your own engine. You slip back into the car, slipping the card into your pocket before turning on the ignition. You breathe a sigh of relief as your car stutters back to life. Glancing up, you see him grinning back at you before the two of you step out of your respective vehicles.

“Thanks again for your help… sorry, I didn’t catch your name. I’m Y/N.” You say, extending your hand out in gratitude. The silver fox’s large hand envelops yours, shaking your hand firmly, “Stan Pines, nice to meet ya. It’s no problem, wouldn’t want to leave a lady like yourself stranded in the middle of the woods.”

“Do you say that to all the ladies that end up stranded in the woods?” You can’t help but tease, earning a hearty chuckle from Stan. “Well, let’s just say that’s not a common occurrence out here. So you thinkin’ about stopping by the Mystery Shack?”

You pause, stuffing your hands into your pockets as you thumb the edge of the business card Stan had given you. On one hand, you should probably be heading back on the road to make it to Portland and this Mystery Shack sounded like a tourist trap. On the other hand, the sun was starting to set and you weren’t keen on driving through the forest in the dark. Maybe it would be best if you stayed the night in this quaint town and start again the next morning. As you look up at Stan, you make your decision, deciding to appease the man who helped you so graciously.

You also had to admit you found him quite charming and curiosity got the better of you.

“Sure, lead the way.” You say with a casual shrug. Stan grins, “I’ll make sure you get a personal tour of the Mystery Shack. No need to worry about other tourists.” Your eyebrow raises in amusement before slipping into your car, “What, you know the owner?” You blink at the smirk that spreads across Stan’s lips, “Sweetheart, you’re looking at the former owner, Mr. Mystery himself.”

You bite back a giggle, “No wonder you were laying it on thick, just trying to get more tourists to visit, huh?” Stan rolls his eyes mirthfully “Hey, I was trying to lend a helping hand… though I have a good sales pitch, don’t I?” He grins, shooting finger guns towards you with a wink.

This’ll be interesting. You think to yourself as you follow behind Stan in your car, pulling into the empty lot of the Mystery Shack. You snort, seeing how the S dangles off the side spelling out Mystery Hack, before pointing it out to Stan as he exits his car. His features grimace as he grumbles out, “I noticed” before beckoning you to follow him, twirling his keys on his index finger.

Stan proceeded to give you a detailed tour of the Mystery Shack, spinning elaborate tales surrounding the variety of taxidermy animals that he had mismatched together. Despite the absurdity of it all, you can’t help but get sucked into his tales, seeing the clear passion and excitement he had for this place. You burst out into laughter at the sight of the Sascrotch to which Stan beamed at, “Good one, right? Probably one of the highlights of the Mystery Shack.”

You weaved your way through the shack, though there were certain sections of it that looked oddly familiar. Almost like you had walked down these hallways before. A wave of deja vu hit you as you walked through the doorway into the gift shop. “Usually this is the part where I try to sell people on an overpriced souvenir but I have a feeling that the whole schtick isn’t gonna work on you, is it?” Stan admits.

“Probably not but I’ll take a look around and see if there’s anything that catches my eye.” You chuckle, making your way around the space as your eyes scan the various trinkets. Your fingertips run across the mugs with question marks painted on them. You decide to use this opportunity to make small talk as you mill around the gift shop while Stan leans back against the counter, “So, you said you’re the former owner? Who owns it now?”

“One of my former employees, Soos. Kid’s been working for me since he was… well a kid. Only person with as much passion as me about this place.” Stan says, glancing over at the Employee of the Month picture that still hung behind the counter that showed a younger Soos. “What made you step down as owner?” You hum, thumbing through the t-shirt rack. 

Stan smiles fondly, “Me and my twin brother actually just got back from traveling, we’re only in town for the summer. It was always our dream to travel the world together by boat, and we finally got to make that happen.” You look up, smiling at how warmly he spoke of his brother. Stan catches you staring and crosses his arms defensively, “What?”

“Nothing,” You say, shaking your head before thumbing through the assortment of keychains and stickers that were displayed. “So twin brother, huh? What’s he like?”

“You’re sure asking a lot of questions… not sure if I should be flattered but it feels like I’m being interrogated by a government official.” Stan comments with a grin. You pause with dramatic effect before looking up and admitting, “Well technically, I do work for the government.”

Stan freezes, his stance becoming defensive as he looks you up and down, “Oh shit, really? Man, these cover-ups are getting better and better but I swear I haven’t broken any laws… recently at least.” Your warm laughter fills the room, finding the look on his face priceless, “Relax, I work for the National Parks.” Stan’s posture relaxes at the realization and he rolls his eyes, “Alright, you got me good. So what do you do? Are you like a park ranger or something?”

“No, I’m a geoscientist. I pretty much study rocks and fossils. Kinda boring day to day but sometimes I’ll come across a precious gemstone and keep it for myself… even though we’re not supposed to take anything off a dig site.” You admit sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck. “Using the government’s resources to your own advantage? I like the way you think.” Stan chuckles.

You pick out a magnet to add to your fridge when you return as a reminder of your side quest at the Mystery Shack. Stan rings you up though you notice a significant markdown in the original price after he insists on giving you the employee discount. As you walk out of the gift shop outside, you round the corner back to your car. 

Little did you know that you would run into the man that you once loved as someone with a long tan trench coat was outside fiddling with a device with his back turned to you. Stan elbows you in the arm to catch your attention, "That's my poindexter brother that I mentioned, Ford. He's always working on some geeky invention."

"You know I can hear you, Stanley?" Ford sighs, turning around to face you two.

Time slows down as he meets your eyes, memories flooding back to him before landing on the last memory he had of you - your back turning away from him, your hand slipping through his fingers after he chose to continue with his research despite your pleas.

He freezes, seeing the woman that left him all those years ago, "Y/N?" He calls out to you.

You blink, staring back at this man that you had never met before calling out your name.

Stan is just as confused as you are, looking between the two of you. 

You tilt your head in confusion, “Uhm… sorry, have we met before? How do you know my name?”

[j-eryewrites]

When You’re Lost in the Darkness

Part One of “A Sinner’s Redemption”

MAIN MASTER LIST | SERIES MASTER LIST

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Word Count: 14.8k

Warnings: (there’s so many), deaths, character deaths, gun violence, unhinged characters, mentions of sexual assault, idolization of death, Joel Miller, graphic descriptions of gore and violence, language, and children with guns (Let me know if I missed any)

* Disclosure: I do not own the plot or the characters from The Last of Us. This is a “what if” fic based on the HBO television series and the game The Last of Us.

(Italicized words are thoughts)

꧁_____________꧂

“Count slowly and clearly,” the woman’s voice rang out. Every day a new person demanded something of the girls. Two armed men stood behind the woman. Their arms were raised and ready for the slightest change of demeanor in the girls. It was as if they feared the kids. The same kids were bound and chained to the broken heater in the withering room. 

“Onetwothreefour–” the youngest of the two girls answered. She picked away at the dirt underneath her nail beds. The tiny clumps of dirt always seemed to reappear no matter how many times she scraped them away. 

“Ellie. Stand up. Slowly. And clearly.” The woman repeated. Her thumb brushed over the pen in her hand. A faint sound of clicking filled the air. The mundane noise plucked the strings of annoyance in the young girl's brain. 

The older of the two girls stuck out a leg, kicking her sister. Ellie whipped her head in her sister’s direction. Her eyes were wide and accusing as she gasped feigning hurt and betrayal. However, the glare in her sister’s eyes overpowered the young girl’s determination of perpetual annoyance. 

“Fine,” Ellie grumbled. “One. Two. Three.” Ellie’s voice enunciated each syllable with perfect pronunciation. To some, it may have seemed as if Ellie was behaving, but her sister knew better. The wide eyes, the over-exaggerated inflections, the spit flying from her mouth with each consonant, and her fingers that were clenched tightly into fists. They were all signs of the young girl’s defiance. 

“Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight…,” Ellie’s eyes now stared right into the woman’s soul. She saw how the woman’s grip around her pen tightened, earning a smile from Ellie. “...Fuck.You.” 

The woman rolled her eyes and mumbled something along the lines of “jackass kid.” 

“Now, hold out your–” the woman instructed. Her eyes darted up from her clipboard and looked right at Ellie. 

The young girl stood tall. Her arm extended out. The muscles were still and controlled. Exactly what the woman had asked of her. Ellie’s grin grew wider as the woman’s eyes fell on the long finger pointed straight towards the sky. The girl’s sister couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. 

“State your name. Slowly.” The woman added. The tone of annoyance had grown apparent. 

Ellie lowered her arm and brought a finger up to tap her chin. Her eyes playfully darted side to side. “Sir Theobald Buster Himen.”

The woman’s frantic scribbling stopped as look at the name she had jotted down. She harshly scratched it out and glared at Ellie once again. In turn, Ellie flashed an innocent smile. Her hands extended and palms facing that day’s chosen inspector showed that she meant no harm. 

“Jesus!” Ellie exclaimed. “Can’t take a joke. It’s Ellie. Same as yesterday. And the day before. And the–”

“You.” The woman pointed to Ellie’s sister. 

The teen stood up from her seat on the splintery hardwood floor with a groan. She stuck her arm out and counted from one to ten. No clever tricks or attempts for a reaction. 

“My name’s Piper Willaims. Seventeen…” She looked at the woman. “Anything else?”

The woman clicked her pen and vacated the room. The clipboard hugged tightly to her side as if it were the most precious thing in the world. It very well could be if what they suspected about the girls was true. 

One of the two armed men stepped forwards and picked up the empty food tray. His gun raised with each step he took closer to the two girls. What were they going to do? Bite him? thought Piper. Within the blink of an eye, the door was shut with a slam. Ellie and Piper stood behind the locked door. Their wrists were chained to the wall. The only hope for escape was the cracked window in the corner of the room. 

“Hey!” Ellie shouted. “People are gonna come looking for me and my sister. People from FEDRA,” she emphasized. “You hear me? Let us out or you’re gonna pay, motherfuckers!” 

“Ellie,” Piper said. Her hand laid against her sister’s shoulder giving it a squeeze. 

Ellie shoved the hand away and grumbled. “What happened to Miss Ann Al?!”

Piper rolled her eyes and slumped against the wall behind her. Her body slid to the floor. Her free hands scratched away at the already peeling green wallpaper in the room. “Ellie…” she began.

“No, don’t give me this ‘Ellie’ bullshit.” 

“I just wanted it over with,” Piper confessed. She buried her head between her legs.  “Just accept that we’re stuck here. No one’s coming Els.”

Ellie’s shoulder dropped. “That’s not fucking true. We’re not supposed to be here!” She cried. Her hands flew up to grab at her messy hair. Her grip threatened to yank out the wavy brown locks. “I…I.” 

A tightness formed in Ellie’s chest and spread to her throat, her heart, and even her fucking lungs. Piper shot up from her seat and scurried to her sister. “Hey, hey, Ellie…come on–” 

Ellie had turned to look at her sister. A sight that disassembled Piper’s heart piece by piece. The fragile pieces threaten to fall to the floor and shatter the last of her resolve. Piper scrambled to pick up the pieces as she held her sister close. Her arms coiled around Ellie–her baby sister. 

A shudder ran through Ellie’s body turning her legs numb. “Shhh…” Piper comforted as she held the weight of her sister's limp figure. Slowly, Piper’s legs bent at the knee and lowered inch by inch to the wooden floor. The splintered surface was their only hope of refuge. 

An instinct, that Ellie’s body couldn't help but cave into, brought Piper even closer until they shared one breath and one wild heartbeat. Ellie leaned even nearer into the shield Piper’s body formed; a shield that hid Ellie from the monsters of the world and the fears that plagued her mind. Ellie submerged her dirtied face into the shirt covering her sister’s chest. It was gray but looked more like a shade that was a tad lighter than black. It smelt of death: the rancid smell of rotten mushrooms, dirt, the blend of copper and iron, and smoke. Ellie’s body trembled against Piper. The tears that stained Piper’s shirt were the closest thing it had gotten to being washed. 

Piper leaned her back against the wall. Her arms enveloped Ellie. Her mouth whispered words of comfort to her sister. A hand measled its way up and began to brush softly through Ellie’s earth-colored hair. As her fingers tangled with the strands, the brown shade merged with the red and gold highlights bringing Piper home. A home that the two of them shared in their hearts, minds, and souls. Ellie’s hair was growing long. Piper glanced around the room, hoping to find something that could be used to cut it before catching her error in thought. They, the people keeping them here, wouldn’t leave them in a room with potential tools of escape. Piper would have to find something else to keep her and her sister busy and distracted from their current situation. 

The sun had begun its descent in the sky. It was the only thing, despite the daily check-in, that was consistent for the two girls. The food and water would come and go. Some days they’d only get a meal. Others they’d have three. Sometimes a rodent friend would come to visit and on other days, Piper and Ellie would only have each other to keep company. 

The golden light flooded the opposite side of the room. Its empty warmth taunted them, only letting the girls imagine. Imagine what it’d be like to feel the fading heat that the light of the world provided. White spray-painted letters flashed across the room. The sunset presented the words with center stage. “When you’re lost in the dark…look to the light.” Piper scoffed. 

There, she sat in the shadow of the room. Her sister was concealed in her arms. Piper’s dark brown eyes looked at the light and were disgusted. Her stomach turned and her throat was caught in a chokehold. The hope, the lies that the message delivered. It wasn’t true. The words spewed from the terrorist organization. The one that sought for peace–for a cure. The crumbling foundation of hypocrisy. Hope was ignorance and ignorance was blind. Blindness to the fucked-up world outside the walls of Piper’s prison.

She’d already lost too many people to the blindness. A tear snuck down her cheek. The tear tracks washed away the dried blood, soil, and grime, and with it came the memories. The memories of the people she’s lost to the blindness. 

꧁_____________꧂

There was something about the smell of cotton sheets that eased even the greatest of nerves present in Piper’s body. The smell was faint; as it would be if the sheet were over two decades old. She was lying in the bottom bunk. Of course, Ellie got the top. The metal bed above Piper creaked and groaned as her sister twisted and turned. An attempt to settle her mind. 

It wasn’t much: the room, a roof over their heads, a bed to sleep in, and safety from the world outside the walls. In fact, Piper might have even indulged in the necessities they were provided if it hadn’t been for the price. It all came with the promise of their futures. Piper had already signed hers away earlier than the rest of the kids did in the FEDRA Preparatory School. FEDRA states that kids aren’t old enough to ‘serve’ or become ‘dogs’ until their eighteen years of age. That rule, strictly enforced, didn’t apply to Piper. Why would it when she showed potential others didn’t reveal until they were shot and buried six feet under? To FEDRA it was simple, the girl could shoot and shoot well. Nine times out of ten she’d hit her target. Piper was also tall and thin. Her arms could reach high places, but her figure was small enough to easily avoid attacks and enemy fire. In FEDRA’s eyes, she was fucking perfect, so they bypassed the law and put her to work. A twelve-year-old girl in a war of men. 

However, since she was still a kid. Piper went to school. She’d learned science, math, and whatever bullshit the teachers wanted to spew at her. It was all propaganda to break the will of the young to fight back, to want more. FEDRA was the only option and they made sure of it. But the clock was ticking. What seemed years away, was now only a year. A year until she turned eighteen. A year until FEDRA could have her do anything they wanted. No more school. No more smell of cotton sheets. No more Ellie. To make matters worse, Ellie knew. There was no hiding it from her sister. 

Piper closed her eyes. The rustling from above had stopped. Maybe Ellie had fallen asleep. A groan fell from the sky. Never mind. The springs of the mattress above screeched out. 

“Psshh. Pipes,” Ellie whispered. Although it was more like a loud hiss. 

“Pipes.” 

Piper remained silent. Her eyes were adamant about getting some shut-eye. Something she’d not be getting on the shift that night. 

“Piper Williams, greatest sister of all! Pipes. Piper. Piper. Piper. Pip–” 

Piper’s eyes pried open. “Jesus, Ellie! What?! I’m trying to get some sleep.”

Ellie’s head was dangling off the edge of the bed. Her hair fell down to the ground with the force of gravity. It seemed like the blood in her body was doing the same–rushing to her head. “That’s a load of infected shit and you know it,” Ellie chuckled, catching her sister in the lie. Ellie grunted and swung her legs around. Her feet were now planted firmly on the floor with her hands on her hips as Ellie stared down at her sister. 

“How–” 

“You can never sleep when you have a guard shift at night.” Ellie clutched at her chest right where she thought her heart would be. “Fourteen years, I’ve been by your side. What am I? Chopped liver?” 

Piper sat up and, in an instant, reached out to her sister and yanked her down on the bed. Ellie let out a scream at the sudden movement. The young girl’s arms flailed around in an attempt to gain some control. Ellie’s hand latched onto the bottom of Piper’s jacket and flipped it forward, covering Piper’s face. Piper chuckled at her sister’s distraction. Her hold on Ellie only tightened as her legs wrapped around her younger sister. 

“No, no, no…not the legs,” Ellie heaved. “It’s not...fair.” Her breath was heavy as she squirmed in her sister’s hold. Ellie kicked up her legs to push Piper back but only secured her trapped position. 

“Give?” Piper asked. Her voice was slightly strained from the playful struggle. 

“Jesus, flying fuck!” Ellie cursed. She took a free hand and slapped Piper’s shoulder. “I give. I give. I give. I giv–” 

A sigh escaped Ellie’s mouth as her lungs relished in the ability to breathe without some restriction. She craned her neck side to side with a satisfying pop sound soon to follow. Ellie flexed her arms, shaking them. “How–how do you win every single time? It’s like you’ve got superpowers or something.”

“Come on Ellie. Seventeen years. Three years longer on this miserable planet than you. Just enough time to finesse my superb skills,” Piper brought her fingers to her lips and performed what was called a ‘chef’s kiss’. Ellie groaned and Piper could practically hear her sister’s eyes roll into the back of her head. “You love me.” 

“Do I?” Ellie asked. Piper smirked. “Yeah, I do,” Ellie said. Her voice had grown soft. 

Piper knew that tone. “What’re you thinking of?” 

“Huh?” Ellie responded. 

“You’re thinking,” Piper noted. “A dangerous thing, by the way.”

Ellie shrugged her shoulders. “Just tired I guess.”

Piper raised her brow comically high. “Ellie? Tired? I thought I’d never live to see the day.” 

“Fuck off,” Ellie said as she shoved her sister’s shoulder. Without another word, Ellie stepped onto the lower bed and pushed herself up and onto the top bunk. There was a shuffle and a deep sigh before Ellie lay still. 

Piper sat in her bed. Her ears tuned into Ellie’s breathing like a stereo. The inhales and exhales served as a metronome to try and lull Piper to sleep. Ellie was right. Piper could never sleep when she had the night shift, so instead, she thought. Something Piper was good at. Her eyes peered over to the window. There were a few clouds in the distance, Piper noted. Although not enough for rain. She’d be saved from another soggy socks evening. Even without the rain, there'd be other things to look out for: Raiders, infected, those out after curfew. She thought of the possible bribes she’d received to spare a life. Her backpack and a few other survival tools were amongst those bribes. Then her mind recalled the feeling of loading, aiming, and shooting a gun. The feeling of the trigger underneath her finger. A weapon of potential destruction in the hands of a child. Piper shook her head. She wasn’t a child anymore. She hadn’t been for a long time, not since the night FEDRA decided she was old enough to venture into the world. She rolled onto her side. At least she could offer Ellie the childhood she never got. A silent tear rolled down Piper’s cheek. The salty taste entered her mouth. She’d see the world burn before they touched Ellie. That spark, that fiery innocence in her sister was her hope and light and Piper would do anything to see it thrive. 

꧁_____________꧂

Ellie had fallen asleep by some miracle. It was deep and restful. She didn’t even hear Piper get up for her shift on guard. A true miracle indeed. 

However, what wasn’t a miracle was how she woke up. There was a snarl and a few clicks before Ellie registered a weight on top of her. 

“Raaa!” A voice growled at her. 

Ellie screamed and shoved the figure on top off and toppled to the floor. Whoever it was landed on the floor with a groan. Not that Ellie cared. Her hand already gripped tightly around the switchblade Piper had gotten for her. 

“Riley?” Ellie croaked. Her voice was sore from the sudden awakening. 

“Ow,” Riley groaned. Her hand rubbed her hip. “I landed on my hip.” 

Riley stood up just as Ellie hopped down from her bunk. Her brown eyes caught sight of Piper’s empty bed. 

“What the hell? I thought you were an infected,” Ellie said. 

Riley smirked. “I know. It was kind of awesome.” Her eyes fell on the knife in Ellie’s hands. “Well, you’re not gonna kill me, are you?”

Ellie’s eyes widened and she quickly shoved the knife under Piper’s pillow. “I haven’t seen you in…I don’t even know how long.” 

“Forty-five days. Well, forty-six…technically,” Riley clarified. Her smiley persona faltered for a moment as she took notice of the vacant bed. “Where’s Piper?”

Ellie looked back at the bed, “Uh…she’s on shift. Should be back soon.”

“You’re lucky to room with your sister. I had to sleep under Liz for three years and you know how much that girl smells,” Riley said. 

Ellie chuckled. “I never said Piper didn’t smell.” 

Riley nodded. Her smile reappeared. “Wanna know what I’ve been up to?”

“All this time…” Ellie’s voice grew soft. “I thought you were dead.”

“Yeah–Here,” Riley said. Her hand reached around her neck and removed a small pendant. She ran her thumb over it before passing it over to Ellie. “Look.”

Ellie’s jaw fell open. “No way. You’re a Firefly.” As Ellie gawked at the pendant, Riley meandered around the room. In the corner of the room were a couple photos. Most of them were of Ellie and Piper, but one was of Ellie and Riley. 

Riley’s face flushed pink. “You still have it up,” she muttered. 

Ellie's eyes widened as a wave of realization hit her. She rushed to the door and pulled it open. Her head stuck out into the hall and looked both ways. Right to left and to right again. 

“What are you doing?” Riley whispered. 

Ellie peered over her shoulder at Riley, “I’m making sure I don’t get caught with a Firefly in my room.”

Riley chuckled at her friend’s antics. “Relax. There are no soldiers on the entire floor.” 

“You sure about that?” A voice rang out. Ellie jumped back and scrambled to grab her switchblade. 

Piper stood leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed. Her long dark brown hair was glued to her sweaty forehead. She had a smirk on her face as she watched Ellie and Riley’s panic. How her sister had crept up on the two of them like that, Ellie had no clue. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Piper! You gave me a heart attack,” Ellie exclaimed. 

Piper stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. “Riley. You’re looking good.” 

Riley gulped. 

“She’s a Firefly,” Ellie blurted. 

Riley shot Ellie a nervous look. 

“Relax Riley. I’m off duty. No Firefly killing for me anymore,” Piper teased. The words did little to subdue Riley’s fear. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise–here,” she stole the pendant from Ellie’s hands and passed it back to Riley. “Congrats. You got out. Unlike me. Are we cool?”

Riley glanced up from the pendant to Piper. “We’re cool.” She placed the pendant back around her neck. She looked back to Ellie and Piper. “Let’s get out of here, and I’ll tell you guys all about it, being a Firefly and all.” 

“It’s almost morning and I have military drills,” Ellie groaned. “You know, where we learn how to kill Fireflies.”

“Piper,” Riley begged. 

Piper sighed and opened up a dresser drawer. She chucked a pair of pants at Ellie. “Put some pants on and let’s go. It won't hurt to miss one drill.” 

“This is so dumb,” Ellie complained as she shoved her legs into the pant holes. This was a new pair Piper had gotten her. With a grunt and a zip of a zipper, Ellie was dressed and ready to go. 

“Come on. When have we ever gotten into trouble?” Riley reached over to Piper. “Plus, we have FEDRA’s sharpest shooter by our side.”

Piper chuckled. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Riley.” Piper crouched down to the ground and pulled out her backpack from underneath the bed. She opened it up, made a mental checklist of what was missing, and then returned to the dresser to fill the empty spaces. Soon the bag was swung over Piper’s shoulder. A matching one on Ellie’s shoulder per Piper’s request. She knew it was better to be prepared than sorry, especially in the shitty world they lived in. 

꧁_____________꧂

Piper’s back was leaned up against one of the games in the arcade. BAC-MAN or something like that. The bright yellow letters had faded with time making it hard for the teen to read. Piper had a watchful eye on Riley and Ellie’s cheerful forms. Their hands gripped tightly around the controls of a game that had stopped working long before any of them were born. 

They were playing an imaginary game of The Turning. Riley squealed and pointed to the black screen telling Ellie to watch out. The two giggled as their playthrough finished. 

“So?” Riley asked. 

Ellie shrugged. “It was alright.” The smile on her face betrayed her bored tone. 

“You loved it!” Riley corrected.

“Yeah. I kinda did,” Ellie confessed. 

The two of them shared a look and then burst into a fit of laughing. Piper smiles as she pushes herself off the game. “Alright, you two–”

“Do you hear that?” Riley interrupted. 

The trio went silent. A faint sound in the distance began to creep into their ears. It was music and it was muffled by a door in front of them. 

Riley smiled and headed towards the door. Ellie tensed and reached out to grasp Riley’s arm. 

“Hey,” Riley stopped in her tracks. “We should head back.” Ellie turned to look at Piper for reassurance. “I need to head back.” 

Piper sent her sister a confused look at the mention of “I”. 

Riley brushed Ellie’s arm away. “You’ve got plenty of time.”

“Riley…” Ellie muttered. “I don’t have any more strikes left at this place.” Riley and Piper froze. 

“What do you mean you don’t have any more strikes, Ellie?” Piper asked. 

What had Ellie been getting into when she was away, Piper thought. Her worry for her sister grew. Piper knew that she was a treasure to FEDRA but that didn’t extend to her sister. The line that allowed Piper to stay close to her sister was already thin, but now it seemed to be hanging by a thread. 

“Tomorrow, we’ll just pick up where we left off,” Ellie proposed, completely ignoring her sister’s question. 

Riley’s expression fell. Piper knew that look. That look of fear, sadness, and a lost future. There wasn’t going to be a tomorrow. 

The words that left Riley’s mouth next only confirmed Piper’s suspicions. “I can’t.” 

“Well, we’ll just do it another day then.” Ellie was getting desperate. Riley stepped away from the door and reached out to Ellie. Ellie scoffed and pushed Riley away. “Okay Firefly-girl, when?”

“There’s not going to be a when, Ellie. Or a tomorrow for that matter,” Piper answered for Riley. 

Riley looked down. The ground seemed really interesting right now. Almost as if it held all the secrets of the world.  

Ellie shook her head. It couldn’t be. “Riley?”

“They’ve asked me to leave,” Riley muttered. 

“Leave what?” Ellie felt her throat tightening up. 

Riley sniffed and looked up at Ellie. Her dark eyes filled with tears. “Boston. I’m supposed to join a group in another city.” 

Ellie glared at her friend. Anger melted with frustration, and sadness. She wasn’t mad at Riley. She couldn’t be. Instead, she bore a hatred for them. The ones who were sending her best friend away. Soon Piper’d be taken from her. She’s heard what the FEDRA soldiers say about her sister. She’d be eighteen soon. Everyone was leaving. They were leaving and Ellie would be alone. 

“I argued with them to stay here!” Riley exclaimed. “But you know how Marlene is. Nothing is easy with her. Everything’s a test…” Riley grew quiet. “They’re picking me up tomorrow.” 

An “Okay,” was all Ellie could muster. 

Riley scoffed. “That’s it?” 

Piper took a step back from the two of them. Their argument was one she was not invited to. She knew her presence would only aggravate them more. She stepped back to the comfort of the BAC-MAN game and closed her eyes. Her eyes tried to tune into the faint music. It still could be heard over Riley and Ellie’s commanding voices. 

“What do you want me to say?” Ellie was exasperated. 

“I don’t know. How about some friendly advice?” Riley suggested. 

Ellie rolled her eyes. 

“Ellie. I’m serious.”

“Fine!” Ellie’s jaw clenched. “Why’d you bring me and Piper here?”

Piper sighed. Looks like she couldn’t escape the argument after all. She began to shuffle out of her place by the machine when Riley’s voice broke through. 

It was soft, clear, pure, and sincere. “I wanted to see you.” 

Oh, Piper thought. 

There was a small pause before Ellie asked again. The meaning behind Riley’s words went in one ear and out the other. Piper wanted to smack her sister on the side of her head and call her a dumbass but decided against it. Ellie could figure this out on her own. 

“No. Why did you bring us here?”

“I don’t know.”

“‘I don’t know?’” Ellie repeated. “You want my advice? Go.”

Piper winced. Jesus Ellie. She knew her sister could be cruel, but this was just mean. 

“C’mon. Let’s just say our goodbyes. Piper,” Ellie stated. 

Piper re-entered the conversation. Her head spun from the dancing Ellie and Riley were doing around each other. 

“I’m gonna go check out this music,” Piper announced. 

Ellie’s eyes went wide at her sister's actions. One might think she was just stabbed in the back. 

“Piper!” Ellie reprimanded, earning a middle finger from her sister as she disappeared through the doors. Ellie’s eyes flashed to Riley. “Riley…” Ellie warned. Riley shrugged and followed Piper. 

The arcade that moments before seemed so lively and fun, now was the cause of chills to climb underneath Ellie’s skin. The eyes of the game characters on worn posters stared at her following her every movement. She was alone. It was dark. She was alone. Her ears echoed with the pounding of her heart, and the faint sound of music seeping through the doors. 

“Goddamn it, “Ellie cursed. Before the walls around her could cave in, Ellie opened the door and chased after Riley and Piper. 

She found herself in a large and open space. Ellie’s eyes narrowed as they adjusted to the warm lights that flooded her view. There was a distant hum. Electricity. There was power. Ellie scanned the room and found her sister and Riley huddled over a radio. 

“Have you ever seen anything like this?” Riley muttered. Her eyes were agape bright smile on her face. 

Piper shook her head. The view was undeniable. There was something about the wake that the fall and chaos humanity caused that created an enticing atmosphere. The three of them stood in what Piper thought to be a mall of some sort. She’d heard about it from the older folks in the QZ. A store with many more stores. “You could find anything you needed,” they’d tell her. Despite the debris and trash scattered all around the floor, the mall had retained its original state. Piper knew that the stores had probably been picked over and that most of the dark corners were probably piled up with bodies or infected. She could still imagine what it would have been like before the outbreak. 

She imagined that she'd come here with friends, a big group of them. They'd hang out all day, spending money and snacking on the food in the food courts. Piper smiled. That’s how life should have been not patrolling the QZ and shooting at anything that makes a sound or moves. 

“Are we done gawking?” Ellie asked. 

“I don’t know. Are we?” Piper snapped. She was over her sister’s tantrum. 

“Hey, you don’t get to be pissed off at me, when I’m not pissed off at you,” Ellie retorted. 

“For what?” Riley shot back. “Asking you what you think?”

Piper rolled her eyes. 

“When have you ever cared about what I think? We were good. We were better than good and then you told me to fuck off. And then you just up and vanish. This whole day…” Ellie’s voice cracks just enough to make Piper regret her harsh words. “…Do you feel guilty?  Do you want an out? I’m giving it to you.” 

“I’m supposed to hole up on the other side of town. If I get caught as a Firefly, I’m dead,” Riley spat. They’d all be dead if they were caught, Y/N corrected. “Guilt didn’t make me cross a city full of soldiers, Ellie. And yeah, I did some shit that I don’t know how to take back but– I’m trying,” Riley pleaded. 

She shrugged off her backpack and placed it on the floor. The group was silent as they all watched Riley reach into her bag and pulled out two plastic guns-water guns. Piper had only seen them once before. A family in the QZ once had them before they were killed.  Piper was friends with their little boy. He was sweet, but sweet isn’t cut out for the world. 

“Those water guns you’ve been dreaming of…” Riley began.” I nearly got shot for these,” she chucked as if almost dying was funny. “Surprise.” 

Ellie didn’t know what to say. Piper had told her about water guns before. How the cool water sprayed in your face as you’d chase after your friends under the summer sun was exhilarating. Even if it was just in the streets of the QZ. Ellie walked over to Riley and took a water gun into her hand. The plastic was smooth and there wasn't a scratch in sight. From the looks of it, the toys could have been manufactured yesterday and Ellie wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. 

She twirled the water gun around in her hand. “Okay. First…I’m gonna destroy you.” She cocked the hammer back and readied her stance to aim. “And then we’ll talk.”

Riley smirked and mimicked Ellie’s actions. “You’re about to get drenched.”

“Okay,” Piper interjected. Ellie and Riley lowered their ‘weapons’ and turned to look at her. “I’m gonna go up ahead and make sure the area is clear. If I remember correctly FEDRA has already swept the building.” Ellie sighed. “That said. I’m still gonna check. You two stay together. Ellie, do you–”

“My switchblade is in my jacket pocket. I promise to not venture into dark areas. I promise to stay next to Riley and pay attention to my surroundings,” Ellie recited on instinct.  

“And…?” Piper nudged on. 

“What? I know I’m not forgetting anything,” Ellie exclaimed. 

“And have fun,” Piper replied. She flashed her sister a smile. “I’ll keep a lookout for anything useful. Any requests?”

“Ooo,” Ellie blurted. “A new shirt would be nice. This one is starting to stink.” Riley cocked a brow up. “Piper takes requests on what we’d like and maybe she’ll bring it back,” Ellie explained. 

Riley nodded. “Shirts would be great.” She said.

“Okay…” With that Piper left Riley and Ellie to their own devices. Their cheerful screams and playful taunts filled Piper’s ears. Sound was better than silence. Though sound could attract the not so pretty things. While she didn’t think there would be anything or anyone, she still left the safety of the group to ease her nerves. 

Piper reached for her thigh holster and pulled out her pistol. It was old, but it hadn’t failed her yet. Her hands gripped the gun tightly. A makeshift flashlight was taped onto the weapon, guiding Piper through the unlit areas of the mall. Her skills from the past five years were put to use. Each twitch in her muscles was calculated. Her feet falling toe to heel avoided the broken glass and breakable debris. Her thighs burned from her low stance, but it offered protection. Easier for her to duck, roll, or dart away. Her muscle memory made it easy for the teen to clear store by store. Her eyes scanned each area for anything useful. 

Piper had gained a reputation amongst FEDRA and in the QZ for her luck. She’d always seemed to find what she was looking for. A skill that came in handy. Piper had discovered a clothing store and was amazed to find clothing still hung up on the racks. She trekked through the aisle and scoffed at the women’s fashion. The scandalous, short t-shirts with bright colors and thin fabrics did nothing to stave off the fury of nature. Piper never understood how someone could dress like that–dress impractically. 

Finally, Piper found the men’s section of the store. In a back corner, there was a shelf full of long-sleeved shirts. Piper reached out her hand and fumbled with the material between her thumb and pointer finger. Thick and warm. She checked the sizes, grabbed the ones that were in the best condition, and shoved them into her backpack.  She glanced around the store one last time, before making her way to the next one. 

The voices of Riley and Ellie grew faint, and Piper prayed to God that they’d be safe. 

꧁_____________꧂

To say they were wet was an understatement. Riley and Ellie were drenched to the bone. One round was played. Soon one round became five. They would have continued on, but the way their lungs screamed at them, it would’ve taken an act of God. 

“Hey, so…I said like an asshole, but I totally meant it. You should go,” Ellie told Riley. “This is something that you’ve wanted for…you know, forever. So, who am I to stop you?” 

Ellie couldn’t believe the words that were leaving her mouth and the fact that they were genuine was even more improbable. If Piper had been here, she’d be so proud of her. 

Riley smiled. “The one person that can.” The words sounded like a joke, but it was an empty threat. Truly only one person could stop Riley from leaving. 

Ellie’s face turned a bright red. She chuckled and brushed off the feeling. “No. Please, don’t go. I’ll be so miserable without you.” She teased, unsure of the way her heart was beating in her chest. “I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine…we’ll see each other again.”

Riley nodded. She motioned to the water guns. “You should keep these. They’re not gonna do me any good.” 

Ellie happily removed the gun from Riley’s hand and placed it in her bag alongside her own. Riley watched Ellie over her shoulder and noticed a pair of headphones wrapped around a box-like shape. 

“You still lug that Walkman around?” Riley wondered. 

“Always,” Ellie states like it was the only truth she ever knew. 

“Let me see it.” 

Ellie reached into her bag and pulled out the Walkman. Her hands gently passed it over to Riley. The headphone wire coiled around the Walkman that had seen better days.  

“What’s in it?” Riley asked. Her hands unwrapped the headphones.

“That tape you gave me,” Ellie said. 

Riley smiled and nudged Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie gazed at Riley as she walked over to the stereo system popping the lid open and inserting the tape inside. With a click, the stereo sprang to life and a song began to play. It was I Got You, Babe. A song that Ellie listened to religiously. 

“You really will be miserable without me,” Riley teased. 

“Shut up.” Ellie reached down to pick up her backpack. 

“Leave it,” Riley instructed. Ellie, confused, left the bag alone. “Follow me.”

“What are we doin’?” Ellie asked. 

“You’ll see.” 

Suddenly Riley hopped onto a jewellery table. The stereo played the beat to which Riley swayed her hips. 

“What are you–” Ellie giggled. “Really?”

“C’mere,” Riley motioned for Ellie to join her. “Your sister did say to have fun.”

Ellie jumped onto the table with Riley. “So stupid…”

“Come on,” Riley begged. With the combined efforts of Riley’s pouting face, the way she danced and twirled around the table tops, and the familiar tune of the song, Ellie soon found herself bobbing along. 

The two share a dance: arms twirled around, feet stomped and tapped around, hips swirled from side to side. The song came to an end and a new one began. Ellie had lost momentum and finished her dance. 

“Ellie? What is it?” Riley asked. 

Ellie looked up at Riley. The tiny lights of the mall flashed around them like stars. Ellie wondered what Riley would look like under the stars. She just knew Riley would be beautiful. Riley always was. Ellie’s vision blurred. Who was she kidding? They’d never see the stars together. Ellie would never again hold Riley in her arms as they danced together. The thought of it made Ellie sick. She’d still have Piper, but Piper wasn’t Riley. No one was Riley. 

“Don’t go,” Ellie’s heart pleaded. 

Riley could only stare at Ellie. The anger, the sadness, the frustration, and the freedom they were both feeling from earlier melted away only leaving one thing left: love. Riley couldn’t leave. She couldn’t leave Ellie–her Ellie. So, Riley did the only thing she could think of. She took the pendant, her dream (what she thought was her dream) and cast it to the side. Her sight solely focused on Ellie. Her dream came true. 

Ellie’s heart jumped at the sight. She found her body doing what she had spent nights thinking about. Ellie stepped forward onto the tips of her toes and kissed Riley. It was perfect for that one moment when her lips were against Riley’s. In that one moment, everything was Riley. Her smell, the taste of her lips, and the feeling of Riley kissing her back was more than enough to send Ellie to the grave and back again. 

Just as fast as it came. The moment was over. Ellie opened her eyes. Riley was still there. It was real. The kiss. Riley. Everything was real. 

“That was beautiful,” a voice interrupted. Riley and Ellie stepped back from each other facing Piper who had a proud smile on her face.

“Piper, I can ex–” Ellie began to say. 

“I was wondering when you’d get together,” Piper said. Ellie opened her mouth to say something else, but Piper continued. “Found some shirts in real good condition. Here.” She threw the shirts to Riley and Ellie. “Put them on. You’re drenched…Oh and,” Piper stuck her hand into her bag. “Found some socks and underwear. You can never have enough of those.”

“Socks and underwear?” Riley chuckled. 

“Seriously,” Y/N said. “Fucking life savers. Wet socks and dirty underwear are horrific. The worst things ever. Plus, it’s unsanitary and a one-way ticket to getting sick. Then from–”

“Sick to being dead.” Ellie finished. She’d heard her sister’s preaching about consistently changing clothes, bathing, and keeping good hygiene. Piper was smart, but sometimes Ellie didn’t think her sister truly understood the world they lived in. Wet socks, dirty clothes, and poor hygiene were probably the least of their problems. 

Once the two girls had changed into the dry clothes and Riley had stuffed the extra socks and underwear Piper had gotten her, an air of awkwardness fell over them. Piper was quick to pick up on it. 

“I’m gonna continue looking through the stores. I’m sure there’s something else I can find,” Piper said. Her body quickly moved away from Ellie and Riley. 

Ellie hopped down from the table. “Wait,” she hissed at Piper. Piper turned around to face Ellie. Ellie nervously looked back at Riley just to make sure they were a safe distance away from her. Ellie didn’t want her to overhear anything. 

“So…” Ellie began. The words failed to leave her mouth. 

“So…?” Piper repeated. 

“You know?” Ellie looked nervously up at her sister. Piper smiled and readjusted her hold on her backpack. “I was gonna tell–”

“I know. I’ve known for a while. Plus, you’re not the only one who likes girls.”

Ellie’s eyes bulged out of her head. “What?!”

“Okay, not just girls, but yeah,” Piper said sheepishly. 

“Who?” Ellie asked. 

“Cassie Langsome,” Piper replied. 

“Cassie? You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” Piper asked. 

“You liked our weapons instructor? She’s like…forty years old.”

“Hey, I’m not saying I’m perfect. And come on, have you seen her? Jesus.” She shook her head. “Anyways, this is about you. Not me. Go and be with the girl of your dreams while you still can.” Piper pushed Ellie back to Riley. 

“But…how? Like what do I do?” Ellie harshly whispered. 

“I don’t know. You’ve got this. You were doing just fine on your own.” Piper reassured Ellie.  

“Thanks,” Ellie said. The sarcasm oozed from her voice. 

Piper sighed. “C’mere.” Ellie stepped forward and Piper raked a hand through her sister’s hair. Then she straightened the shirt, tucked it into Ellie’s jeans and took a step back to admire her handy work. 

Ellie stood holding her hand. “How do I–”

“You look great,” Piper answered. Her sister did look beautiful. Ellie’s hair was tied in a ponytail with a few strands to shape her face. The light shown down on Piper’s sister catching the numerous shades of Ellie’s hair: pine brown, gold like the sun when it hit the windows of the decaying buildings in the QZ just right, and red like the flowers Piper had only seen in picture books. The shirt Piper had given Ellie moments before was slightly too big, but with it now tucked in, it looked nice. 

Ellie smiled before dashing over to where Riley stood. Piper smiled watching her little sister climb back up onto the table next to Riley. Without another word, Piper excuses herself. Her worries about Ellie's safety are tucked away behind the happiness of the moment. Ellie and Riley deserved this.

“Sorry,” Ellie said. 

“For what?” Riley asked. Her eyes shamelessly eyed Ellie up and down. Whatever Piper had done was working its magic. 

There was, yet again, another awkward silence. However, this one no longer spawned from the presence of another person. This was a hesitant silence. Riley and Ellie crossed the line of friendship that they knew so well. These were uncharted waters. Dangers lurked nearby, by the two of them that they’d face them together. 

Ellie was the first to break the silence. “What do we do now?” She internally cringed. That’s the best you can come up with Ellie?

“We’ll figure it out. But I don’t think Marlene’s gonna go for it–” 

Riley was silenced by a roar in the distance. It was an eerie roar that chilled the very blood pumping in their bodies. The deep growl rumbled through the ground shattering the bliss the girls relished in. 

There they were. The Infected. They came charging into the store. The same path Piper had taken out moments before. The two girls froze. Not a breath left their lungs. Not a muscle moved. 

“Run!” Piper’s voice screamed. Ellie didn’t need another warning. She jumped from the table and ran in the direction away from the runners, but Riley wasn’t beside her. 

“Riley!” Ellie cried. 

One of the runner’s heads whipped around to the sound. Its bloodshot eyes narrowed on Riley’s figure. Her arm extended and pistol in hand. Riley took in a shaking breath. A finger hovered over the trigger. The runner ran and Riley shot. 

꧁_____________꧂

It didn’t take long for Piper to find another store. Unlike all the clothing stores from before, Piper found herself in a weapon store. The glass display cases had been smashed and stolen. The only things that remained were empty boxes of ammunition. Piper sighed. If anything, finding something from this store would be the real jackpot. She waved her flashlight around. Piper spotted a shimmer in the corner and took a few cautious steps forward. 

A triumphant cheer left her mouth. She really did seem to have the best of luck. In her hands, she held a pistol left behind. She opened the cylinder and found three bullets left. Not the best but it was better than nothing. Plus, she had access to ammo from her work with FEDRA. She checked her own gun. Two bullets. She had five shots left. Five shots to make count if needed. Hopefully not any time soon, Piper prayed. 

The minute the prayer circulated her mind. It was ripped from her as a guttural growl echoed throughout the mall. The sound of pounding footsteps fell closer and closer to where she was. Quickly, Piper turned off her flashlight. If these were what she thought they were, they relied on sight. If she couldn’t see. Neither could they. The thundering steps faded away and for a moment a wave of relief fell over Piper. She was safe. 

The infected had passed her by. Then Piper’s blood ran cold. Her heart stopped beating. Ellie. Riley. Fuck. 

She shoved the extra gun into her holster and dashed out of the store. Her figure ran after the infected. Stupid she knew, but so was leaving her sister and Riley alone. “Hey!” She called out to the infected. They were only ten feet away from her. Four infected with their backs facing her. They should’ve tur–” HEY!!” She screamed. 

Still the infected ran. The music. They had heard. 

“RUN!!” She screamed hoping that her voice could warn them in time. She didn’t know what she’d do if they were killed. What if they were bit? What about Ellie?

Piper shook away the tears threatening to blur her sight. Now was not the time. 

Piper raised her pistol and shot. An infected fell to the floor. Two of the remaining three, whipped around to face her. Piper stood her ground. One bullet left. The infected charged her. Its arms reached out and hit the floor. It reminded Piper of a rabid dog. Only one thing on its mind. It leapt forward. Bang!

The runner dropped to the floor. The other infected soon by its side. Its’ dark eyes scanned the area roaring in frustration. Piper cursed silently as she fumbled for the extra gun. Three bullets. Three shots. She reminded herself. Piper raised the gun once again. The runner tilted its head at her. A growl rumbled low, shaking Piper to her core. Bang!

One. Two. Three. Piper counted. There were four. She heard another shot of a gun. Piper’s eyes found Ellie and Riley. Riley hastily shot the gun over and over in the direction of the fourth and last runner. Each shot missed the monster.

The runner charged Riley. It leapt over tables and scattered chairs. Its’ speed never slowed. 

“RUN!!! RUN!!” Piper screamed. Her body was fueled by adrenaline like the oxygen she breathed. 

Ellie and Riley didn’t need another warning as she ran from the infected. Their speed was much slower and more frantic than that of the calculated hunter. 

Piper screamed, she shouted. Anything to grab the runner’s attention. But it ignored her. “COME GET ME!!” Piper bellowed. She raised an unsteady hand shot. It grazed the infected’s leg knocking it off its track. Piper scrambled to get closer. Being closer meant a better shot. Piper cried out in frustration as her steps became uncertain. Her feet tripped over chair legs and her body ran into tables. 

Riley screamed. 

NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.

Piper could see the struggle. The runner cornered Riley against a wall. It was snarling and its spit flew in her face. Ellie was on the floor. She stood up with her knife in hand. She grunted as she brought her hand down on the infected. It spun around and jumped on Ellie. 

NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.

One bullet left. One shot. It was too far away. Not enough time. 

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

Piper raised the gun. Her hands were shaking. She’d only been afraid once before. Fear. Something Piper shoved down and locked away. It broke free and corrupted her entire being: her mind, her body, the very blood that ran through her veins.

BANG!

The infected fell limp. Its’ weight crashed onto Ellie. 

Piper dropped the gun and ran over to Ellie and Riley. She pulled the infected off of Ellie. Riley was sobbing against the wall. Ellie stood up shaken. Her eyes were wide as she looked around. 

“I think it’s clear,” Ellie stated. She brushed the stray strands of hair back to calm her nerves. 

Ellie looked down at her sister and the alarm bells went off. She had never seen Piper scared. The infected were gone. Piper had saved them. The girl who never missed. So why was Piper looking at Ellie like she was broken? 

“Ellie,” Riley muttered. “Ellie, your arm.” 

Part of Ellie knew. Of course, everything had to come crashing down. She moves her gaze down to her arm. It was bloody. It wasn’t supposed to be bleeding. It didn’t even hurt. Why…?

Ellie brushed the blood away. Her mind was fighting the inevitable. There was a bite mark. Deep and bloody. 

“No. no, no, no, no, no!” Ellie screamed. 

Riley raised her hand up to Ellie. The runner had bitten her too. 

Ellie ran over to Riley taking her hand in hers. “No, this isn’t supposed to happen. NO!” 

Piper sat on the ground. The infected lay dead at her feet. She felt sick. She wanted to puke. To scream. To cry. To take the butt of her pistol and bang the infected over and over until its’ skull collapsed. But all she could do was sit. Her mind was trapped in a never-ending loop. Protect Ellie. Protect Ellie. Protect Ellie. She had failed. Piper had failed. 

“What are we going to do?” Ellie asked Piper but Piper couldn't hear her. Piper couldn’t do anything. “Pipes?”

“The way I see it,” Riley answered. “We got two options.” She took out her handgun. 

The gleam of the handle in the light snapped Piper out of her trance. “No. There’s no fucking way.” 

Riley ignored Piper’s opinion. “Option one. We take the easy way out. It's quick and painless,” Riley told Ellie. “I'm not a fan of option one.” 

“What’s option two?” Ellie croaked. 

“We fight.”

“Fight for what? We’re gonna turn into one of those things,” Ellie sobbed.

Riley scooted closer to Ellie. Her hand lifted up to cup Ellie’s cheek. Piper could only watch on. “There's a million ways we should’ve died before today. And a million ways we can die before tomorrow. But we fight... for every second we get to spend with each other. Whether it’s two minutes. Or two days. We don't give that up.”

She paused for a moment to look at Ellie. “I don’t want to give that up. My vote; let’s just wait it out. You know, we can…be all poetic and just lose our minds together.” 

Slowly, Ellie shook her head up and down. 

“And then…Riley continued. Before we turn into one of them Piper can finish it off.” Riley raised the pistol to Piper. 

Piper frantically shook her head. A sob escaped Piper’s mouth. “No,” her voice was broken. “I can’t–” Suddenly Piper’s body trembled. Tears fell freely down her sweat, blood, and dirt-stained face. “You can’t–”

“Piper,” Ellie whispered. “I’m sorry.” Ellie wasn’t sure what she was sorry for. Maybe the fourteen years of attitude she had given her sister, or maybe it was allowing herself to get bitten. She was sorry for those sleepless nights she gave Piper. She was sorry for all the annoying jokes that made her sister groan. She was sorry for being her sister. Sorry that you got stuck with me. 

Piper continued to shake her head. “No–don’t. You can’t–,” her tongue and mind failed her. Just like she failed Ellie. 

Ellie nudged her way out of Riley’s arms. “Pipes,” Ellie reached out to her sister. She took Piper’s hand and placed the gun into it securing her sister’s fingers around the handle. “Promise me–” Ellie’s voice cracked. 

“No! Fuck, no” Piper begged as she tried to shove the gun back into Ellie’s hands. 

“Promise me you won’t let me, and Riley become one of them. That’s we’ll die just me and her.” 

“No! Ellie, I–” Piper squinted over Ellie’s bite mark. “You’re bit–infect…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. As if she never muttered the words, the reality of their situation would never come true. “Ellie,” Piper stuck out her arm. Her sleeves rolled back. “Bite me.” 

“What? Piper–”

“Ellie, please!” Piper pleaded. 

What was her sister thinking? Ellie shook her head and fearful tears fell down her cheeks. Piper crawled over to Ellie and shoved her arm in Ellie’s face.  “Piper, what are y–”

Piper cried in frustration. “Riley?” Piper raised her arm in Riley’s direction. The girl was trembling at the sight. She hurriedly shook her head. 

“Fuck! Just–Ellie please,” Piper begged. Her arm struggled to stay up. 

“No! Piper, I won’t–”

“Fine! Fucking fine!” Piper screamed. She moved away from Ellie and towards the lifeless infected. She turned the body over and pried open its mouth. The fungus would survive after death, right? Piper stuck her forearm in the infected’s slack mouth and closed its jaw around her arm. 

“Piper!” Ellie screamed. She pulled her sister away from the infected and grabbed her arm. There was no bite mark. “What the hell are you thinking?!” 

Piper cried and yanked her arm away from Ellie. “Don’t leave me,” Her quiet voice spoke amplitudes. Those simple words broke Ellie. Her sister was scared. She was fucking scared of being alone. Just like Ellie. Had her sister been scared this whole fucking time? 

“Piper, I’m not going to–,” Ellie sobbed. 

Piper, in her anger, fury, and fear, bit down hard. She couldn’t feel the pain. She couldn’t taste the iron and copper of her blood seeping into her mouth covering her tongue. She couldn’t hear Ellie and Riley’s screams and cries at the sight. Piper pulled back. Her eyes surveyed the bite mark. She was bit. But even that wasn’t enough. Piper wasn’t infected. She would never be. 

The realization awakened something deep within Piper. Ellie was infected. Riley was infected and she wasn’t. Why didn’t the infected attack her? Why had she missed the shot? Why? Why? Why? Piper now resorted to her whole body shaking no. It was hard to see now with her puffy eyes and the never-ending tears that clouded her sight.  

Then, Ellie began to cry. “Please, Pipes. Please. You’re scaring me.”

Piper choked on a sob. She didn’t feel the way her hand clutched the gun tighter. She didn’t feel her legs tuck in close. She didn’t feel Riley and Ellie wrap their arms around her holding her close. Piper didn’t feel her arms pull them closer. She’d hold onto them until she couldn’t hold on any longer. 

As Piper held onto Ellie and Riley, her mind settled. The second her sister turned. The second she had to pull the trigger on the two girls was the second she’d raise the gun to her head. She’d find comfort in the smooth surface of the trigger. The barrel leaned against her head. Piper had made a promise fourteen years ago. Me and you till the end, Ellie. That’s what it’d be. Piper and Ellie until the end. 

꧁_____________꧂

Ellie jolted awake. Her neck strained from falling asleep on Piper’s shoulder. Was it already time for another check-up? 

“One. Two. Three. Four…” Ellie mindlessly said. 

In walked Marlene. Her posture was tall and confident as she approached Ellie and Piper. Ellie nudged her sister awake. Piper took in a sharp breath as Marlene crouched next to the girls. The woman handed them their backpacks. The second the familiar possessions were in their hands, Ellie dug through the pockets pulling out her switchblade and Piper her empty gun. They didn’t need to know it was empty. 

Ellie and Piper pointed their respective weapons at Marlene. Their backs pushed into the wall as far they could go. Marlene looked the girls up and down and laughed. 

“You’re not scared,” Ellie noted. Her defensive stance fell slightly. 

Marlene shook her head. 

“Then unlock us,” Piper commanded. Her hands were still raised, unwavering. 

Marlene scoffed. “How ‘bout we start with thank you?”

Piper rolled her eyes. “For what?”

Marlene cocked her brow up. “For saving your life? For telling them not to shoot you or your sister? That was me, just in case you didn’t know.”

Ellie and Piper shared a glance before completely lowering their weapons. 

“Why did you stop them?” Ellie asked. 

Marlene sighed. “We’ll get to that.” 

She leaned forward causing Ellie and Piper to jump back. Piper on instinct raised her empty gun. Marlene cautiously raised the key. Ellie looked from the key to Piper. Piper nodded her head and Ellie extended her chain hand out. Marlene unlocked the chains, doing the same for Piper afterwards. 

“So, Sir Theobald Buster Himen…” Marlene said. Ellie giggled earning a look from Marlene. “How ya feeling?”

“The same.” 

Marlene looked to Piper who just nodded in response. 

“Is it gonna happen?” Ellie asked quietly. Her voice was unsure and her eyes carefully watching her sister. 

Marlene shook her head. “No.”

“Can we go?” Piper questioned. 

“No,” Marlene replied. 

“We won't tell anyone about any of this, I swear,” Ellie promised. She couldn’t stand being locked in the room any longer. All she wanted now was to be back in that tiny room with the bunk beds and cotton sheets. Ellie wanted to sleep above her sister in a bed that squeaked too much. She wanted Piper to never grow old–to never turn eighteen. 

“Where are you gonna go?” Marlene asked. “Back to FEDRA Military School? Are you that anxious to be a soldier? What about you Piper? Do you really wanna be their dog?”

Piper lurched forward her face inches away from Marlene’s. The woman didn’t so much as flinch at the action. “You think we chose that place? That I wanted to be their dog? They put us there when Ellie and I were barely old enough to walk. It’s for orphans,” Piper spat. The spit landed on Marlene’s face. 

Marlene wiped the spit away. “They didn’t put you there. I did.” Her voice was calm. 

Ellie chuckled. “...Are you my fucking mom, or something?”

“Do I look like your mom?”

Ellie turned to Piper who answered. “No.” Ellie knew Piper had a better clue as to who their mother was. Even though she was three years old when their mom died. It was better than having no memory of her at all, even if it was a vague picture.

“My name is Marlene. Though you probably already know that. I’m the leader of the Fireflies in the Boston QZ.” 

Ellie scrunched her nose up. “Why would terrorists dump me and Piper with FEDRA?”

“Because it’s where you’d be safest, and you were safe until you decided to sneak out and…” Marlene’s brows furrowed. “Terrorist? Was Riley a terrorist?”

Piper flinched at the name. A hand sneaked up to hold Ellie’s. 

“Why won’t you let us go home?” Ellie whispered. Tears threatened to fall from her big brown eyes. 

Marlene’s stern composure dropped at the sight of Ellie. She was only just a kid and so was Piper. “Because you two have a greater purpose than any of us could ever imagine.” 

Ellie looked up at Marlene with wide eyes. Her? Important?

“So, we’re leaving tonight, and we’re taking you two with us.” 

Piper opened her mouth to refute Marlene’s words, but she was interrupted by a harsh knock on the door. 

The woman who had inspected them earlier stepped into the room. “He’s here.” She told Marlene. 

Marlene nodded. “Five minutes.” Then the door shut. Marlene leaned in close to the two girls. Her eyes conveyed a seriousness that made even Piper cower away from her desire to fight back. 

“What I’m about to tell you two cannot be repeated to anyone. Because if you do,” Marlene’s next words were slow and clear. “I assure you; you will die.”

Well, fuck, thought Piper. 

꧁_____________꧂

Ellie wasn’t prepared to hear the sounds of gunfire so soon, and neither was Piper. The second the first gun went off, Piper jumped in front of Ellie. Her empty pistol raised, and an arm held her sister behind her. The gunshots only got more frequent. With each bang, time slowed. 

Piper’s mind was wired. She noted the distance of the shots and the time between them. As each second passed, the shots died down. A muffled groan came from behind the door. 

Piper took in a quiet breath and whispered to Ellie to stay behind. Ellie opened her mouth to refuse her sister’s orders, but Piper threatened to chain her sister up. Ellie reluctantly agreed to stay back. Her small hands held the switchblade close as Piper crept towards the door. She turned the tarnished knob and stepped out into the hallway. Her gun was raised as she looked around each corner. 

Marlene was bent over on the ground and some Firefly lady was helping her up. Marlene winced. So that’s where the groan came from. Piper stepped over the fallen body of one of the guards and approached Marlene. 

There was the creaking of wood behind her. Just as Piper whipped around, Ellie grunted her hands raised as she charged a man with a rifle. He swatted her to the side as if she was a fly. 

“Fuck!” Ellie cursed as she hit the wall. 

“Ellie!” Piper shouted. Her gun was raised at the man, who, in return, raised his gun at the teen. He didn’t care if he was pointing a weapon at a child. The girl to his side reached down at his feet. He quickly stepped on the small knife, successfully stopping her from reaching it. His eyes glared at her warningly as if asking her to try and see what’ll happen if she takes it. 

“Joel?” Marlene croaked.

Piper’s nose scrunched up. Did Marlene know this man?

“Marlene?” The man said. 

Piper narrowed her eyes. She looked at Ellie. “You okay?”

Ellie tore her eyes from the gun and pointed at her sister. “Yeah.”

“Jesus, Ellie, you can’t be stupid like that,” reprimanded Piper. 

Joel scowled. Didn’t these kids realize they had guns trained on them?

A woman’s voice spoke up from behind the man. “So, this is who Robert screwed us over with?” She scoffed. “The Che Guevara of Boston? I mean the war must be going shitty for you to buy merch from scumbags like him.” 

Marlene sighed and clutched her side. “Yeah, well it has been. The merch was bad, and he obviously didn’t take “fuck off” for an answer. 

“Give me my knife,” Ellie commanded. 

Joel ignored Ellie. “What do you need a car battery for?” He asked Marlene. Ellie stuck her hand out. “Don’t,” Joel warned. His gun was now on Ellie. 

Piper stepped forward. The grip on her gun tightened. Marlene looked from Piper and then to Joel and Ellie. If she didn’t step on soon something bad was going to happen. 

“Not at her. Point it at me.” Marlene said calmly. “Piper.”

 Piper grunted. 

“Piper,” Marlene said again. “Lower your gun.”

Piper grumbled and lowered the weapon to her side. 

Joel eyed the teen up and down. The scowl grew on his face. 

“To answer your question,” Marlene said to Joel. “I need it for a better reason than you do. No offence, but Tommy is just one man.”

“How–” Joel questioned. 

“It’s our business to know things,” Marlene explained.

“To know things,” Joel mocked. “You’re the cause of it. You turned my own brother against me.”

Piper winced. Sheesh did these two have it out for each other. 

Joel shot her a look and Piper raised her hands up innocently. 

“Okay, Joel.” Marlene agreed, trying to get the man to not shoot the girls. 

“That was a lot of gunfire,” One of the Fireflies noted. “FEDRA’s gonna be on the way.”

Piper’s jaw clenched. She was right and Piper would give anything to not be caught. In FEDRA’s eyes, she deserted them. Something that they did not take lightly. 

“We were gonna move Ellie and Piper outta the zone tonight, but we won’t make it anywhere like this. Not for a while anyway…” Marlene explained. 

Piper turned to look at her with confusion. Why was she telling these dipshits what the plan was? Her question was soon answered. 

“So now I’m thinking you’re gonna do it,” Marlene stated. 

Piper and Ellie immediately argued against the idea.

 “I’m not going with them.”

“There’s no fucking way,” Piper and Ellie said at the same time. 

It seemed as if Joel didn’t agree either. “The hell–”

“Let me take her,” The Firefly said. 

“Tess…we don’t have time for this,” Joel said. 

It was beginning to be hard for Piper to hear anything anyone was saying. 

Marlene cleared her throat and spoke loudly, silencing the group. “You don’t have time?”

The woman behind Joel stepped forward. Piper eyed the gigantic purple bruise on the woman’s eye. 

“Who are they to you?” She interrogated Marlene. 

“To you?” Marlene replied. “They’re cargo.”

“We don’t smuggle people,” Joel stated. 

Marlene sighed. “There’s a team of fireflies waiting for them at the old state house. I know what’s out there. We were going with an entire squadron for that very reason. But now, I don’t have a truck. I don’t have a squadron. FEDRA’s five minutes away. What I do have, is you. And I know what you guys are capable of. For better or worse. 

Piper gulped. This wasn’t good at all. 

“What are they capable of?” Ellie asked. Piper shook her head, begging her not to go there. Ellie lowered her eyes to the floor avoiding her sister’s gaze. 

“You…You get her there safely; they get you what you need. Not just a battery. The whole thing. Fueled-up trucks, guns, supplies, all of it. I swear.” Marlene promised. 

There was a pause as the wheels in Joel’s brain turned. He looked at the woman before kicking Ellie’s knife away. He pulled the woman to the side, out of earshot from the group. 

“Asshole,” Ellie cursed. 

The second, Joel’s back turned. Piper rushed over to Ellie helping her to her feet. She pulled her sister as far away from the man as she could. Her body served as a shield. Joel flinched at the motion but soon went back to discussing the deal with his partner. 

The woman broke away from Joel. “Okay. Here’s the deal,” she pointed to Ellie and Piper. “We’ll get them to your crew at the statehouse. But before we hand her over, they give us everything that we want. If not, we kill them there and then.” 

Marlene nodded. “Deal.” 

Ellie gasped. “Really? That fast?”

“Ellie…” Piper warned. 

“You two are all that matters. My team will not jeopardize that. Remember what I told you? Now go get your backpack. Now, Ellie. Piper.” 

Piper didn’t need to be told what to do. She shuffled Ellie back into the room where the two of them retrieved their things. In less than a minute, the two sisters were back in the hall. The woman, who introduced herself as Tess, looked them up and down. 

“Let’s go,” She instructed. 

Piper stepped forward to follow the woman. Ellie peered over her shoulder at Marlene. Her eyes begged her to find another option. Marlene just shook her head and motioned for Ellie to follow. 

“Joel…” Marlene called out. “Don’t fuck this up.” She paused. “Please.”

꧁_____________꧂

To say it was raining was nothing. The sky was mourning. Rain poured down on top of the four of them. The streets quickly filled up with puddles, splashing the group as they walked by. Piper wished that she’d put on her coat before stepping outside. The group received many looks from onlookers. It wasn’t normal to see a family-like group in this world. 

When humanity collapsed, one of the first things to go was family. Families meant a group of people. A large crowd attracted certain attention: raiders, FEDRA, infected, the whole lot. Not to mention supplies were harder to come by in the masses, so feeding a group of four was out of the question. 

Piper felt the urge to scream at the passersby. “They aren’t my parents.” She didn’t like the feeling of having to trust someone other than herself. Let alone two adults she’d met minutes ago. Two adults who wouldn’t have hesitated on shooting her and Ellie. 

Tess led the group down the streets of the Boston QZ. Her jacket hood lifted up and covered her face. Joel stood in the back. His watchful eye was on Ellie and her sister. Very early on his mind deemed Piper a threat. Despite her being a kid, Joel knew she was not to be messed with. 

Up ahead was a FEDRA agent. They wore the traditional gear: a bulletproof vest, decked out in all black, helmet, and fully loaded rifle in hand. Joel lowered his head as he passed, but not before noticing Piper duck her head down low as she pulled up her sweatshirt hood to cover the side of her face. Elie doing the same. 

Just how important were these kids? Joel thought.

Soon Tess led the group into one of the housing buildings in the QZ. Up the stairs, they climbed. More eyes followed their every move. Piper didn’t like it. She didn’t like being watched. Tess shuffled through her pocket before pulling out a key and inserting it into a lock. A door swung open, and Tess ushered Piper and Ellie inside. 

“Give us a minute alright?” Tess asked. Her tone told Piper she wasn’t asking before slamming the door shut. 

“What the fuc–” Ellie shouted. “Piper?” 

“Leave it, Ellie,” Piper said. She found an empty chair and shrugged off her bag. 

They were in an apartment. Modest and well-kept. At least it was warm and dry. Piper shivered and zipped open her bag to find some dry clothes. “Ellie, change into som–” 

“Way ahead of you sis,” Ellie mentioned as she flung off her shirt replacing it with a new one.

Once they were changed, the two meandered around the room. Piper found a book on one of the shelves and slumped down into a seat. She cracked the book open and began to read. 

Ellie’s eyes scanned the room. She turned toward the door. A minute was sure as hell looking more like an eternity. She shuffled through the objects on the table in the room. One of which was a big book of songs. She picked it up and flipped through the pages, landing on one with a hidden slip of paper. She furrowed her brows as she read the page. 

Suddenly the door opened, and Joel stomped into the room. The door slammed shut behind him. He marched over to the couch and sat down with a sigh. He stretched out his limbs, and a few pops followed. 

Jesus, how old was this man. Piper guessed him to be in his late 50s from the peppery shade of his hair. Piper chuckled. He was a grumpy old man. 

Joel’s face flashed in confusion at Piper’s giggle. 

“Who’s Bill and Frank?” Ellie blurted. Joel’s body tensed. “That radio is a smuggling code, right? ‘60s songs, they don’t have anything new, ‘70s they got new stuff, what’s ‘80s?”

“Ellie.” Piper harshly whispered.

Joel stood up from his seat and stole the book from Ellie’s hands. His eyes bore into Ellie’s. Suddenly the book slammed onto the table making Ellie flinch. She quickly raised her hands up defensively and tiptoed over to Piper. As if she made the wrong step, Joel would wring her neck in between his large hands. 

Joel’s eyes followed her. When she reached her sister, Joel grumbled and returned to his seat on the couch. He laid back resting his arms over his eyes. 

“What are you doing?” Ellie asked. 

“Ellie,” Piper said again. 

Ellie shrugged her sister off. 

“Killing time,” Joel replied. 

“Well, what am I supposed to do?!” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure that out,” Joel replied. 

Piper tugged on Ellie’s sleeve motioning for her to sit down. Ellie sighed and sat down next to her sister. 

“Your watch is broken,” Ellie noted. 

Joel didn’t answer her. He cracked his eye open to peek at the watch before closing his eyes once again. Soon, the sound of Joel’s sleep-ridden breaths filled the air. 

Ellie leaned against Piper’s shoulders and read the book along with her. Her sister quietly whispered the words aloud. The pages were worn thin from years of use. Piper’s hand delicately slid down the pages, her eyes reading the words that her finger skimmed under. Ellie smiled softly at the sound of her sister’s voice. In the corner of her eyes, she caught sight of the book. 

“Don’t think about it,” Piper commented. Her eyes never left the page. 

“Wha–”

“Leave the book alone.”

Ellie grumbled. “Fine.” She returned her gaze over to the book. She’d break the code sooner or later. 

꧁_____________꧂

It was a few hours later when Joel stirred awake from his sleep. 

“You mumble in your sleep,” Ellie pointed out. 

Joel quickly rolled to his side. His shoulders tensed at the sound of her voice. It wasn’t long before he remembered why the two girls were there. 

Ellie looked outside the window. She could feel Piper’s eyes on her. “I’ve never been on the other side of the wall. Look how dark it is…You guys go out there a lot?”

Piper removed her gaze from Ellie and looked out the window. Night had fallen. The QZ had gone quiet for the night. A shiver made its way through Piper’s body as she thought of her night shifts for FEDRA. There was stillness in Boston at night. People safely indoors. The rain was pouring down from above. It was almost peaceful. However, Piper knew better. Night was when the monsters roamed the world. 

Joel shrugged. “I guess.”

“When was the last time?”

“Maybe a year. What’s it matter?” Joel wondered. 

“But you know where to go. So, we’re gonna be okay,” Ellie whispered. 

Piper reached out to rub her sister’s back in a comforting manner. They would be okay. Piper would make sure of it. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to Ellie.

Joel’s expression softened for a moment before building his walls back up. “Yeah. So, what’s the deal with you two anyway? Are you two some kind of bigwig’s daughter or something?”

Ellie was silent as she looked out the window. Piper lowered her hand and nodded. “Something like that,” she said. 

There was a long beat. The rain so graciously filled their silence. 

“The radio came on when you were sleeping,” Piper muttered. Ellie turned around to face her sister. A confused look on her face. 

“What? What was the song?” There was an urgency in Joel’s voice. 

“Something like…” Piper cleared her throat and sang the song. “Wake me up before you go-go?”

Joel pinched the bridge of his nose with a force that could have broken it. “Shit,” he cursed. 

Piper smiled. “Gotcha. ‘80s means trouble, Ellie.” She turned to Joel. “Code broken.”

Ellie smirked at her sister’s clever trap. Joel could only stare at the teen. There was a glint in her eye as she smiled triumphantly at Joel. It was a fire. A raging and vengeful fire. A glint that said I am not to be messed with. 

Joel’s jaw clenched and stepped forward. “Listen–” 

Tess barged into the room. The door was quick to lock again. “The spot under Lancaster looks good.” She turned to Piper and Ellie. “You two got a jacket in your pack?”

“Yeah,” Ellie replied. 

Tess nodded. “Okay, get it. It’s time to go.” Her tone had a hint of familiarity to it. Piper couldn’t help but think that Tess had been a mother before everything. From the way she looked at the girls to how she asked about the jackets, reminded Piper of how she watched over Ellie. 

The two girls quickly threw on their jackets. Tess and Joel gave each other a look before leading the girls out of the apartment. 

There was a tightness in Piper’s stomach. The uncomfortable feeling kept biting into her side. It was a feeling she couldn’t shake. Something was going to go down tonight. Something not so good. 

꧁_____________꧂

Even out of the tunnel, everything was pitch black. Above their heads, searchlights flashed. Ellie shuddered. She didn’t like the dark. With Piper always out of patrol, she was always alone when it was dark. Piper pulled her sister close once they emerged from the tunnel. Joel placed the cover back on top of the whole. 

“Holy shit! I’m actually outside,” Ellie muttered a bit too loud. 

“Jesus Christ,” Tess and Piper said at the same time. 

The sinister light flashed in their direction. Piper yanked Ellie down to the ground. The light narrowly missed the group. 

“Oh shit.” Ellies cursed. 

“Yeah, oh shit,” Piper hushed.

Tess grabbed onto Piper and Ellie’s shoulders and pulled them in close. “Okay, we’re gonna tail the left edge around the buffer zone. You stay close and you follow my lead. Got it?”

Piper and Ellie nodded. 

“Let’s go.” 

It was strange for Piper to go out at night without the protective gear that FEDRA provided for her. Yeah, she did have to admit that the working conditions were shitty and that she never really got a full night's rest in five years, but at least she had the comfort of a bulletproof vest and those hard helmets. Now she felt bare in her jacket, hoodie, and jeans. Even the gun she held in her hand was empty. Just a symbol of empty power–empty threats. 

“Okay, we’re gonna tail the left edge around the buffer zone. You stay close and you follow my lead.” Tess told the two girls. 

“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” Ellie agreed. 

Piper scoffed, earning a condescending look from Tess. Piper wanted to blurt out that she knew how to take care of herself out here but thought it wouldn’t be wise to tell the two adults whose patience was on a thin line that she works for FEDRA. A line that Ellie’s life was resting on. So, she bit her tongue. The twinge of pain helped Piper keep her head straight. 

“Let’s go,” Tess muttered. 

Through the rain, they trekked. Under cars, buses, and into makeshift tunnels they walked. The rain was beating down on their backs. Tess was still in the lead and Joel in the rear. Piper was stuck in the middle. She felt like a sitting duck. Tess and Joel would be the first in the group alerted. Leaving Piper and Ellie with scraps of time to defend themselves. Being in the middle of a group meant you had to trust in the leaders. You had to trust they’d notice everything. You had to trust they’d avoid risky scenarios. You had to place your life in their hands trusting that they wouldn’t let you fall as they walked in the dark with their eyes closed. Piper knew she should be in front. She knew the FEDRA routes like the back of her hand. When you’re twelve and forced into a world of violence, you have to learn fast or get left behind. Being left behind was not a choice, so Piper learned. She knew the blind spots the officers had from the helmets they wore. She knew that the rifles more often than not got jammed when firing. She knew that being in the rain was as lucky as they could have gotten. The rain muffled the noise which made it hard to hear. This meant it’d also be hard for her to hear. She knew where the soldiers would look. She knew how far the flashlight illuminated. She knew there was a space between the shoulders where the padding was thin. 

She knew she should have heard the hum of the officer. She should have seen the dim flashlight bouncing off the wall. She knew she should have seen the glint of the scope on the rifle. She knew she should have grabbed Ellie and ran. 

“What the fuck? Hey! Hey, hey, hey, don't move! Don't move!” an officer shouted at them. Joel and Tess immediately raised their hands. Piper stepped in front of Ellie. 

The officer stepped forward. His gun raised and a flashlight blinded the group. Piper’s eyes shut from the brilliant light. “You gotta be shittin' me,” the officer gasped. 

Piper froze. She knew that voice. She immediately forced her head down doing the same with Ellie’s head. Her eyes shut tight hoping he hadn’t seen her. 

“Okay, let's talk this out,” Joel said in an attempt to negotiate. 

The officer wasn’t having it. “Turn around,” he told Joel. 

“Hold on—” 

“Get on your fuckin' knees. Get on your fuckin' knees!” The officer shouted. 

“Hold on…” Joel tried again. 

“Get on your knees!” The officer was no longer asking. He was so close; Piper could see his nostrils flare and eyes turn red. 

“Just get on your knees. Just get on your knees!” Tess begged. She motioned for Piper and Ellie to copy her. The three of them fell to the ground. Mud and gravel tainted their jeans. 

“Listen. You let us do this run… We'll split the cards with you.” Tess proposed. 

“Oh, will you?”

“Yeah!” Tess nodded. 

The officer feigned happiness. “I'm so blessed. Hands-on your head, eyes forward. Hands-on your head!”

Piper quickly raised her hands up and interlocked them behind her head. Ellie did the same. 

The officer turned to Tess, his gaze on the small device in his hand. Piper whispered to Ellie. “Ellie.” Her eyes never left the officer. “Hand me your switchblade.” 

Ellie was too trapped in her fear to hear her. 

“Ellie, come on.” Piper hissed. 

“Really, man?” Tess grumbled as she saw the device. 

“Yep. We're doing this by the book.”

“Jesus Christ,” Tess muttered. 

Ellie was too focused on the sound of her heart pounding in her head to notice Piper slip her hand into her pocket to grab the switchblade. The device beeps and came back green. Tess was clean. 

The officer turned around to Joel. Piper resumed her position: knees digging into the ground and hand behind her head. 

“Unauthorized exit. They'll hang you for that,” The officer stated. 

“Fine, everything off of this run! And half off on all the pills!” Joel shouted over the thundering rain. 

“Half off?” The officer scoffed. “All off.”

Again, the device beeped. It was green. Joel was clean. 

“Risk my job for half off…” He stepped to Ellie and lifted the device up. He turned his head to the side and looked right at Piper. A large smile appeared on his face. “You're out of your fuckin' mind. I’ve hit the fucking mother lode.”

Joel and Tess share a concerned look as the officer dropped the device down just to lift Piper’s chin up. Then he flashed the light in her eyes. She tried to pull away, but the officer only gripped harder. 

“Piper fucking Williams. Deserter. FEDRA’s golden girl. I wonder what they’d give me for turning you in.” 

Tess and Joel’s eyes widened. Who the fuck was this kid? 

Ellie screamed and lunged at the man long enough for Piper to reveal the blade and stab it in between the man’s shoulder blades. The weak spot. 

“Ellie! Piper!” Tess screamed. The officer pulled away. Ellie fell to the ground. The blade was still lodged into the man’s back. 

“Fucking bitch! I’m gonna fucking kill and r–” He raised his gun only to find that Joel had stepped in the way. An arm was out protecting the two girls behind him. 

Piper’s breath caught in her throat at the sight in front of her. Joel’s back to her. His stance was tall and wide. He was protecting her. He was protecting Ellie–protecting them. Piper was suddenly glad that it was raining. No one would think the betraying streaks falling down her face were hers. 

“Get out of the fucking way!” The officer screamed. A vein bulged out of his forehead. He meant fucking murder. The things that he was going to do to the girls. 

Joel’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the man. “Woah. We can fix this,” he said. 

“Move! Move! MO-”

The officer was cut off as Joel lurched forward. His large hand found a place between the officer’s nose and brow bone. The officer fell back clutching his face. But it wasn’t enough. Joel’s fist pounded repeatedly into the officer’s face like the rain falling relentlessly from the sky. Thud. Thud. Thud. Joel hit until he couldn’t hit anymore. The officer’s face was a concave bowl filled with blood, sweat, and other bodily fluids. He took a step back. His breath was heavy, and his ears were pumped with blood. His hand hurt, but he didn’t care. 

“No! No! I’m not sick.” Ellie screamed. 

“Joel!!” Tess hollered. She raised the device up for Joel to see. It was red. Ellie was infected. 

“NO! Tess. She’s not–” Piper tried to explain. 

“I’m not sick! I’m not sick. LOOK! This is three weeks old. Nobody lasts more than a day! Does this look like a day old to you?” Ellie stuck out her arm. The wound fully healed. All that was left was a scar. 

“I should fucking kill you! When did it happen?” Tess bellowed. 

“I dare you to fucking try,” Piper spat. 

“It doesn’t matter! You have to trust me. They’re gonna catch us if we don’t run!” 

As if on command a shrieking siren slithered through the air. Its piercing noise shook all of them to their core. 

“I know these guys. They’re gonna come, and they won’t hesitate to kill. We’ve got to go!” Piper yelled. Her voice was powerful, making even the screaming siren silent. Even Joel was taken aback at the raw force that came from the girl’s voice. 

Tess nodded. She’d get her answers soon. “Joel, we gotta move. We gotta move, Joel!” 

She ushered the girls through a hole in a nearby fence. “Joel!” Tess called out. Joel looked back at the officer who he’d just beaten to death moments before. The rain dripped down from his brow. He took a hand to wipe away the water. Underneath his foot, he noticed the shimmer of a blade’s edge. He bent down to pick it up. The rain made a quick job of washing away the blood. His hand stung as he held the small weapon. His teeth ground against each other from the pain as he turned and ran after Tess and the girls, shoving the knife into his pocket. 

The fence jingled as he made his way through the hole. Joel’s back was turned on Boston. A city he was glad to leave behind. He’d get to his brother one way or another. He looked at his hand. It was broken at least that was for sure. 

Joel was starting to think he was in over his head. This was getting to be too much to handle. The girls. The FEDRA agent. Ellie was infected. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the faces of Piper and Ellie flashed in his mind. The fear on their faces. The threats left the officer’s mouth. Something that had been untouched for two decades seemed to awaken in him. It fueled his fist. The fist of justice. His fury. 

“This better be fucking worth it,” he told himself. Unaware that the sins of his life were coming back to haunt him. 

꧁_____________꧂

Next

Comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Tag list: @bartokthealbinobat​

꧁_____________꧂

[dutifullylazybread]

WIP Whenever Tag ✍️

Thank you for the tags @darkurgetrash and @lemonsrosesandlavender!! 💖💖💖

SO I am fighting with Deeply and Immovably So, and to keep the writing flowing, I *did* start a little Halsin x Tav one-shot. It's not to take away from the long fic so much as to keep my writing sharp while I keep working away at my main WIP (I also haven't introduced a short story series I am playing with right now that I think you'll all love).

SO here is some of what I have written thus far (content warning for mentions of blood and some violence):

Tagging @voloslobotomyservice @commander-krios @kimberbohwrites @savriea @barbwillbrb and whoever else would like to tackle this!

“Get up!”

She was hoisted up by two of her guards and taken down a short flight of stairs, the tips of her boots trailing behind her as they dragged her. Prior to fifteen minutes ago, had anyone told her that she could be overpowered by a group of goblins, she would have scoffed at them.

Then again… she’d also set the scene rather nicely so that she would be captured. Now, she wanted to make sure she gave them a good performance. They’d done all the hard work, after all.

All they needed to do now was toss her into the empty prison cell to the right of the staircase…

…except they trudged past it and went straight ahead…

…towards the cell that held a rather large, rather incensed cave bear.

Shit.

Shit.

Shit.

The bear bristled, its lips peeling back into a snarl as Tav and her goblin entourage approached.

She didn’t need any additional encouragement. Tav forced her feet forward, planted them onto the floor, before pushing back, fighting to throw the goblins off kilter. This hadn’t been the plan. She was supposed to land in an empty cell or, had luck been with her, in the same cell as the archdruid—not some half-starved bear.

Three of her guards detached from the cluster surrounding her to prod the bear through the bars of its prison with their spears—they didn’t even have the decency to use the blunted ends of their weapons. No, they stabbed at it with their chipped and tarnished points.

The bear lurched away from the bars, its snarl burning away to a roar. It swiped at one of the spears, splintering its shaft and sending half of it skittering into the shadows behind it. The fur on its left front leg started to mat with blood and its large brown eyes were feral with rage. It slammed against the bars in an attempt to grab at the goblin that caused it injury, clawing at empty air as the creature bounded back, grinning delightedly.

Had Tav been reluctant to get in the cell before, she was downright opposed now. She thrashed against the goblins holding her—only to be promptly reminded that one of the camp’s bugbears had accompanied them into the worg pens. She was reminded with a swift strike to the side of her head.

Her vision swam. Her arms were released and she slumped to the stone floor. She was vaguely aware of the grit biting into her cheek and the tacky pull of the drying blood puddle on her skin and clothes. Its rusty stink was only enhanced by the clinging stench of old piss and shit.

“He’s all ready for you,” one goblin said to her before turning to the others standing idly by. “What are you waiting for? Get that fur ball away from the door! Now!”

Oh, of course they wanted to rile the beast up before tossing her into its den. The mauling to follow would only be inevitable. Hopefully it would steer clear of her skull when it supped on her—she was none too sure how a tadpoled cave bear would pan out. Nor did she want to learn. Then again, would a mind flayer tadpole survive a bear’s digestive system?

She didn’t have time to consider before a sickly crack cut through the bear’s roar, dragging it out into an agonized whimper.

[maccreadysbaby]

Project: Killcode

batfamily + oc insert

tw: barely touches sensitive topics but there isnt really anything triggering

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

finally got to write bentley alone with our boy 🥰

part twenty-six

❝ SOCIAL PRESSURES ❞

SATURDAY — JULY 28 — 12:10AM

BENTLEY WAS THE LAST ONE TO WAKE UP ON SATURDAY, FEELING JUST SORT OF… EMPTY. Like some part of him had been dragged away behind Tim’s vehicle when he rolled out of the school parking lot on Wednesday evening, and he hadn’t gotten it back since.

He didn’t do much after Tim took him back to the campus. It was in the middle of dinner time, so he just sat in the room until everyone got back, then talked to Asten, answered a phone call from Bruce, and went to bed feeling weird. It was that same kind of weird he felt when Bruce left for a business trip, or Dick went back to Bludhaven for a while, or Duke left for college, or when Tim finally moved out on his own. It wasn’t really homesickness, he didn’t think. Because he didn’t want to go home, he just wanted to…

Well… maybe it was kind of homesick, but not for the Manor. Just for the people in the Manor.

Bentley was homesick, and it hadn’t even been a week. He had, like, a lot of weeks left.

(Yay…)

Thursday, he still felt all empty, and Friday, too, and now, on Saturday morning, it was still plaguing him. He laid in his bed until noon, when Asten told him they were going to lunch. 

He decided he wasn’t very hungry. So he stayed in the dorm alone.

It was different when he was by himself, actually. Definitely more peaceful. The knowledge that he could do whatever he wanted without anyone knowing was kind of… new. And weird.

Even with that information and the whole dorm at his disposal, all he chose to do was sit on the couch in the living area and scroll aimlessly on his phone.

He wasn’t sure why he felt so much like doing nothing just because Tim came to visit. He’d thought it would, like, help him or something. But it had really only made him want to… leave. He loved Redwood, and school, but for now he just kind of wanted to be where they were, and he didn’t know how to shake it.

Ten minutes of an empty dorm later, and his phone started to ring in the telltale chimy tone of a facetime.

Dick! was the name on the screen.

Bentley aimed the camera mosty at the ceiling (but made sure his eyes and forehead were in it, too.) and then hit the green button.

Dick was not the one whose face showed up. Bentley creased his brow and peered down at the deep black hair and greenish-blue eyes that had appeared on the screen. “Damian?”

“Hi,” Was his response. Only about half of his face was on the screen, too, and it looked like he was in… Bentley’s room, actually. He could see his stand-up dresser in the background. “I confiscated Richard’s phone in response to getting unfairly grounded — he’s been in Bludhaven looking for it for three days. I’m taking refuge in your bedroom to hide from everyone.”

(Bruce had just recently started the art of grounding — mostly because he did it to Asten once after he snuck out and, of course, it went exponentially well. Asten never dared argue with Bruce after he took him in.)

(Bentley guessed he’d soon find it didn’t work so well with Damian, considering he’d already stolen a phone for three whole days.)

Bentley smiled faintly, sitting up a bit more on the couch. “Grounded? What did you do?”

“I… may have had an altercation at the school's open house. With that blonde haired disappointment to mankind who took it upon himself to traumatize you in your short time at Gotham Academy,” Damian replied nonchalantly, with a shrug. 

“So, you’re saying you got in a fight with Jesse Todryk?”

Damian shrugged again. “It was hardly a fight. I might’ve disemboweled him had it been socially acceptable. Instead, I settled for stabbing him through the hand with his own pen.”

“Geez, dude. Why did you fight him?” Bentley questioned, shifting on the couch so he was sitting criss-cross.

“He was slandering our father’s name. Spreading childishly crude rumors about our family, as if he doesn’t have a giant homicidal bird for a sister and stereotypical divorced parents who can’t get along enough to save their children’s egos,” He continued.

Bentley hummed with an amused look on his face. “What did he say? About dad?”

“It was…” A thoughtful look passed over Damian’s features, his greenish eyes bouncing here and there before he looked back at the camera. “It doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t understand it.”

At that, Bentley seemed to deflate, and he couldn’t help the tinge of venom that came through in his words: “Maybe I would if you’d explain it to me.”

“I…” Damian paused, stayed silent, and then sighed lightly. “It's inappropriate, Bentley. I’d rather not be the one to introduce you to that type of thing.”

Bentley huffed. “Okay…”

There was a moment of silence. Then: “Is your new academy acceptable?”

Bentley smiled tensely, faintly. “Yes, it’s great,”

Y’know, besides all the stuff that wasn’t so great. But Damian didn’t need to know about those things.

“I overheard Asten and father talking about how you’ve been acting strange since visiting with Drake,” Damian continued. “Did something happen while he was there?”

“No, of course not,” Bentley cringed, huffing lightly. “I just… miss you guys, is all. It’s weird to be away.”

He heard Damian sigh. “I have to admit, it is odd without you and Asten here. I’m not very fond of being the youngest in the Manor again.”

Bentley smiled a small, mischievous smile. “Is that a roundabout way of telling me you miss me, too?”

"If that is how you wish to take it,”

Bentley smiled, but he wasn’t sure why, because that same pang in his chest came and went that he felt when Tim was visiting. The pang that just made him want to go home.

“I knew you liked me,” Was what he said. Then a beat passed. “How’s patrol been?”

“Well, that degenerate Todryk bruised a few of my ribs at the school, so I’ve been benched lately. I think it’s been mostly quiet, anyhow,” Damian shrugged. “It seems as though father wishes to prohibit me from living my life.”

Bentley snickered. “I’m sure that’s not it.”

"All I'm allowed to do is go to school. It's practically torture,"

"Why don't you talk to him about it?" Bentley questioned, looking out the window at nothing in particular. "He was pretty lenient even when Asten was grounded."

"That's because Asten is sad and obeys him like a wet dog," Damian stated, and Bentley laughed so suddenly he made a pfft sound. "I, however, do not cave under the weight of my superior's authoritative hand."

With a shake of his head and an amused grin, Bentley deadpanned: "He's your dad."

"And even so, he will not so easily overtake me,"

Bentley found himself chuckling lightly. "You're so funny."

"I don't see why you find my keen ability to resist crumbling under social pressures amusing, but whatever makes you happy, I suppose," Damian continued, running a hand through his hair on the screen.

Bentley snickered. "Said social pressures being your dad grounding you.”

"In this situation, they happen to be that, yes,"

Bentley, with a smile, shrugged into the camera. "Y'know, when a kid does something bad while grounded, most parents usually just ground them for longer. You could be infinitely grounded."

“You’re trying to get me to obey father? I will not cave to your social pressures either! I do not deserve punishment for defending his honor!” Damian rambled with this miffed look on his face, and Bentley just laughed at him.

“You stabbed him through the hand with a pen!”

Damian scoffed. “You, of all people, know he deserves much more than that. He refuses to leave me alone, even in the summer. Perhaps he will give up now that I’ve injured him.”

“Perhaps,” Bentley repeated with a smile.

“I’d suggest that-“

In the background of the call, Bentley heard a door swing open, and then there was an exasperated: “Damian!” And the voice who’d said it made Bentley sad again.

“I will not cave to your social pressures, father!”

“Is that Dick’s phone?!”

Bentley just chuckled as Damian and Bruce bickered, and eventually, the phone was wrestled out of his brother’s hand, and Bruce’s face appeared on the screen.

He sighed, then smiled, his eyes going soft like they always did. “Hey there, chum.”

“Hey,” Bentley replied with a smile. “I tried to talk him into obeying you, but no cigar.”

“Thanks anyway,” Bruce sighed. “How are you today? Asten mentioned something about you being homesick on the phone earlier.”

Bentley huffed lightly, because of course Asten just had to go telling Bruce when he was acting weird. “I’m good — just kinda miss you guys, is all.”

“Well, we miss you, too,” Bruce smiled a kind of sad smile. “You’re always welcome to come back on the weekends, if that’s something that interests you.”

Bentley shrugged. It did sound nice, but he also didn’t want Bruce to think he couldn’t handle a boarding school. It was just boarding school, and they called every day, and Bentley wasn’t a baby, he was thirteen. So it was fine. “I think I’ll just stay here.”

Bruce smiled. “Okay. Well, I’ll let you go enjoy your Saturday so I can go deal with your brother — I love you, Bentley.”

“I love you, dad,” Bentley replied.

The last thing he heard before the call ended was a muffled sentence from Damian, “This house is a nightmare without you!” And then Bruce looked dead into the camera, blank-faced, shook his head, and hung up.

Bentley snickered, but immediately found himself empty again as soon as the caller ID disappeared.

That was a pleasant surprise, at least. He hadn’t really talked to Damian outside of brief greetings while he was on the phone with other members of the family. And he had to say — even if Damian wouldn’t outright admit it, it made Bentley feel accomplished that the assassin missed him.

And with that weird, empty, cold feeling creeping back in, he continued to scroll aimlessly. That is, until someone went: “Jesus Christ!” And Bentley jumped so hard he nearly fell off the couch, accidentally tossing his phone a foot or two at the abrupt exclamation.

His eyes snapped up only to meet the deep green ones that belonged to Rockie. He was standing in the doorway of his bedroom with jeans, a white t-shirt, and a leather jacket, looking like he was about to go somewhere. “I had no idea you were still in here.”

“I had no idea you were still in here,” Bentley replied, creasing his brow. “Why didn’t you go to lunch?”

Rockie shrugged, quickly scanning Bentley with his unnaturally green eyes. “Didn’t want to. You?”

“Didn’t want to,”

Rockie nodded to himself, walking over to the kitchenette where there was now a full coffee pot. (Where did they keep getting these random appliances?) “Great minds, I guess.”

Bentley nodded in response. He hadn’t actually talked to Rockie all that much — Asten had, because Rockie was more his speed, while Bellamy and Varian were more Bentley’s. So Bentley wasn’t exactly sure what to say to him.

Instead of speaking, he just watched Rockie pour himself a cup of coffee, shockingly smoothly for a kid with gigantic metal gloves on. He took a sip and sighed.

“I’m actually about to go into the city to pick something up, if you wanna tag along so you’re not just alone in here. I won’t argue with a little company as long as your down for it,” He continued, glancing over at Bentley.

Actually, leaving the school sounded like a great distraction from being homesick.

Bentley glanced down at his pajamas, which he’d oh-so-gracefully kept on for the entire day. “I’ll have to change.”

“No rush. I don’t chug my coffee, only psychos do that,” Rockie replied.

Bentley snickered and, with a stretch, got up and went back into his room. He made himself look more like a human and less like a dumpster pretty quickly, by changing into real clothes (a hoodie and jeans, but hoodies were real.) and putting some water in his hair. He also grabbed his phone and put some money in the case, if he needed it.

Mister I-don’t-chug-my-coffee was done with it when Bentley came out five minutes later, and was already washing his mug in the sink.

Rockie glanced back at him, then turned the sink off. “Ready?”

“Yep,” Bentley replied, popping the p for added effect. Rockie dried his hands and grabbed his phone off the counter, then headed to the front door. Bentley followed suit.

They went the same way off campus as they did when they went to Layla’s house — between their buildings and through the parking lots back there. Bentley almost wondered why it wasn’t more secure, but then again, the campus was massive and it would probably cost a fortune to try and fence the whole thing. Not that he was complaining about it being easy to sneak off.

“We can go wherever you want. We have a whole Saturday to burn,” Rockie said as they made it to the actual New York sidewalks, where the tall buildings started. “Have you been to Times Square? It’s pretty cool.”

“I rode through it once,” Bentley shrugged. “But I’ve never walked there.”

“It’ll take a little longer, but we can cut through it on our way,” He replied. “I’m headed to a pharmacy on the other end of Manhattan.”

“Oh,” Was Bentley’s utterly intriguing response.

Rockie didn’t seem to be one for much talking, because he was pretty quiet while they walked unless he was pointing out something cool. Bentley didn’t mind — he picked up on the other things he was doing, like intentionally putting Bentley on the inside of the sidewalk away from the road, or making sure he was always in his peripheral, never straying too far ahead. Bentley also caught the way his eyes seemed to linger on the people that went by — mostly men — like he were sizing them up or assessing their threat level. Sometimes he even went about grabbing Bentley’s arm if they passed someone particularly sketchy looking.

It was kind of nice. Y’know, to walk around with someone without having to talk the whole time, but still being able to tell they genuinely cared about his wellbeing and enjoyed his presence. It was almost like being with Tim, again, in a way.

Bentley tried not to feel empty about it.

“So, you survived the first week. Do you think you like it at Redwood?” Rockie asked after a while. They were walking on more crowded sidewalks than they had been, and Bentley could see bright lights in the distance.

“Yeah, I think so,” Bentley replied. “Much better than homeschool in Gotham. Where are you from?”

“Here. New York,” Rockie replied, gesturing to the street they were walking on. "Home sweet home. I usually board at the school year-round, though."

"Oh. Why?" Bentley questioned, glancing up at Rockie. He watched him inch closer to him while passing what looked like a homeless man that smelled like weed, and then separate again once the coast was clear.

Rockie shrugged. "Home just... isn't really a place I love to be."

"Oh," Good job, doofus. "Sorry."

"No sweat, kid," He replied with a shrug. "Everyones got a story -- mine just isn't the prettiest."

"Mine, either," Bentley replied, and when Rockie looked over at him with a strange expression, he continued: "Before Bruce, I mean."

"Gotcha," He said with a nod of his head. "We're coming up on Times Square now. Not that you could miss it."

He and Rockie took a left turn, and they were suddenly in the brightest and most colorful place Bentley had ever seen. There were people everywhere -- hundreds, at least, which was only slightly freaking him out. Even in the daytime, the electronic billboards shined down and turned the sidewalk different colors, the sounds of cars and overlapping chatter making a loud sort of white noise effect that never went away.

"Whoa," He muttered, taking a second to look in a full circle. Rockie just stood off next to him, watching, hovering kind of like Bruce did.

When he looked back over at him, Rockie had a goofy smirk on his face.

Bentley pouted. "What?"

"Nothing," Rockie shook his head. "I just love seeing peoples reactions when I bring them here. It's my favorite place. There's so many colors."

Despite his smile, Rockie got this strange, far-away look in his green eyes for a split second before he forced them to obey. Bentley acted like he didn't notice, but he did notice (thanks to John Whittaker, he physically couldn't miss the most minute of changes in people's expressions.) and he wondered why it was at that moment, of all times, that that look showed up. When Rockie was talking about colors. Maybe he lived in a circumstance where he wasn't able to see many colors, before Redwood?

After all, Bentley had said the grocery store was his favorite place all those years ago because he'd never seen so many colors until then.

"It's so cool here. I think it's my favorite place, too," Bentley replied, glancing down the sidewalks and through the crowds of people. There were so many different kinds of people, with so many different kinds of hair and clothes, with different styles and different vibes that they gave off. It was nothing like Gotham, where everything was just like... grey. And rainy. And sad.

Okay, maybe not that sad, but it definitely wasn't like New York.

Bentley watched a girl in a skin-tight, lime green, super log dress pass. She had blonde hair the length of her arms and bright blue makeup on her eyes. The odds of seeing a girl like that in Gotham were, like, zero.

He watched another girl pass -- in a sports bra and these really tight shorts, with a ball cap. She looked like she was going for a run. People didn't really do that in Gotham, either. (But he did avert his eyes quickly. He still wasn't sure why a lot of girls in New York liked to go places without shirts.)

As he moved his eyes away from the running lady, they immediately snapped onto the brightest color in his vicinity -- a girl in a bright yellow dress, or something, that was walking away from him.

Only, that didn't really look like a dress. He stepped forward a bit, and squinted. No, not a dress. It looked like... a cape? It had a yellow hood that went over her head.

Bentley squinted some more, watching her move through the crowd. No one payed her much mind. At one point, she even took her hood off, and her hair was-

Platinum...?

Bentley gasped and whirled around in tandem when Rockie's gloved hand landed on his shoulder. His grin was gone and now he looked... concerned, and confused. His eyes flicked over Bentley's shoulder to the street. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Bentley was quick to respond. Too quick, probably, but he couldn't really take it back. He turned back around and scoured the street for the yellow, but despite all the bright colors, it was gone. "No, yeah -- I'm fine."

Rockie hummed, moving up closer to Bentley's side. He could feel his green eyes lingering on his face. Bentley didn't look at him. He just watched people pass, his eyes flicking from here to there and back again in search of the yellow, bringing his hands up to fiddle with the strings of his hoodie.

"See someone you know?" Rockie asked slowly, in this sort of detective-y tone that was kind of similar to Bruce when he asked a question he already knew the answer to.

Bentley pulled on his hoodie string. "I... thought I did. But it was... someone else. Sorry. It freaked me out because they're..."

He glanced up at Rockie, and their eyes met, brown on green.

Bentley looked away. "... they're dead."

He heard Rockie let out a breath, and he gently squeezed Bentley's shoulder with his metal glove. "I'm sorry."

Bentley glanced up at him to ask why, but then promptly remembered Rockie probably thought it was, like, a family member or something that Bentley had lost. That was a much better route to take than trying to come up with a detailed lie on the spot. So he went with it.

"It's okay," Was all he said, keeping it short and simple and kinda quiet, just to sell whatever he was trying to sell.

Rockie bought it. He just squeezed Bentley's shoulder again and sighed: "Do you wanna move on, or stay here for a bit? I don't mind either option."

Bentley glanced around the colorful place again, but really, he was looking at everything yellow. She wasn't alive. She was dead. She was dead. Bruce saw it. Bruce wouldn't lie to him.

"We can go," He replied. Without an argument one way or another, Rockie let go of his shoulder and carried on walking, and Bentley stayed right by his side.

She was dead.

Bentley and Rockie walked through Times Square and down more crowded New York streets, glancing in shop windows and restaurants as they did so. Bentley kept a sharp lookout for anything yellow, but he never saw her... or whatever had looked like her, again. Maybe he was just jumpy after his nightmare, or something. Not that jumpiness meant hallucinating, but whatever. Maybe it did. This once. Because the Secret Keeper was dead.

They walked in the quiet again, apart from Rockie pointing out cool graffiti or stores -- and after a good while of that, he slowed in front of a large drug store built into the bottom of a tall building. It looked sort of old, with big, fading red and white striped awnings on the front and peeling white paint on the bricks. The door was glass -- the whole front wall, really, because there were huge windows -- but they didn't look like they'd been cleaned in a long while.

"This is my stop. It's kinda old and rough, but you'll have to suffer through the yellow tile and water stained ceiling, 'cause I'm not leaving you out on the street," He started, glancing at Bentley before he moved to the door.

"That's fine," Bentley replied. Not that he had another choice, anyways. He also wasn't going to leave himself out on the streets of New York. Yeah, he'd probably be able to defend himself using superpowers, but then the police would get involved, and Bruce would be called, and he'd know they snuck out, then would come things like jail time and foster care and Bentley wasn't down for that.

So he followed Rockie into the sketchy store.

Which was even more sketchy on the inside. The tile was yellowing, and the ceiling was stained, just like he'd said. The giant florescent lights were doing little to light the place up. There were shelves lining the building filled with off-brand products that all looked sort of fishy, if Bentley had anything to say about it.

"You can look around, if you want to. I think there's candy on the other side. I won't be long," Rockie said. Bentley just followed him back toward the back, where a pharmacy counter was, but he didn't want to intrude on his private stuff, so he drifted over to some shelves and looked at said candy. It was all sweets that he hadn't heard of, and he might've actually considered trying some of it if there wasn't a high probability of that whole store being drugged.

Bentley looked around at a few more things, trying to stay out of the way but also not get himself kidnapped out of the store. The more he tried to not be nosey, he more he ended up listening to bits and pieces of Rockie’s conversation with the pharmacist against his will, and within those bits and pieces, he heard the word Fluoxetine.

Which weirdly enough, he’d heard somewhere before. 

Fluoxetine. It was definitely medicine. He wracked his brain for instances when he’d been reading pill bottles. Maybe he’d seen it in Tim’s bathroom, on occasions when he’d stolen taken ibuprofen from his room?

Wait a second. He was pretty sure that Fluoxetine had been… 

That it was…

Tim’s old depression medicine?

Did that mean Rockie was…

Bentley said nothing and hovered near those shelves until Rockie came to join him with a little brown bag. He sighed lightly, taking a moment to scan Bentley calculatively. “Hey, you ready?”

“Yeah,” Was Bentley’s response, and he made sure to act extra normal because Rockie probably didn’t know he knew what Fluoxetine was. It wasn’t his business. It so wasn’t his business. (Why was he so good at hearing things that weren’t his business?)

As he and Rockie walked through the pharmacy, he tried to make himself feel better by telling himself surely that wasn’t all the medicine was for. He whipped his phone out, turned his brightness down, and googled it on the way out, to make himself feel better.

The Internet told him it was also used to treat bulimia (an eating disorder where people threw up their food, he thought.), obsessive compulsive disorder, and panic disorder.

He swiped the tab away and internally cringed at himself.

(That didn’t make him feel any better.)

What sounded like a Christmas bell jingled when Rockie opened the door and held it for him, and Bentley stepped back out on the sidewalk, into the warm New York sun.

“We can go back to the school, or we can grab lunch somewhere if you want,” Rockie suggested as they walked, making sure to put himself between Bentley and the road. “I’m down for whatever, it’s your call.”

Bentley really didn’t want to pick, so he shrugged instead. “I’m good with either.”

“That doesn’t help us make a decision,” Rockie snickered. Then, he dug around in his pants pocket as they walked. “Heads, we eat, tails, we go back.”

Bentley watched as Rockie pulled out a quarter and positioned it on his thumb, then flicked it in the air, caught it, and slapped it on the back of his hand. 

George Washington’s face was staring up at them.

“Ah, the president thinks we should eat,” Rockie continued, shoving the coin back in his pocket. “What do you like, Bentley?”

Bentley shrugged again. “I’m not very picky. Do you have a favorite place?” 

Rockie hummed in contemplation. “Yeah, I think so. Georgia actually works there.”

It took so much willpower for Bentley to hide the massive cringe that tried to force its way onto his face.

“-But she isn’t working today, because of the dance, I think,” 

Bentley exhaled lightly. At least he had that going for him.

“Sounds good,” He said, tapping his fingertips on his pants. “I’ve actually been there before. It’s where Asten and I first met her.”

“Oh, nice. She never told me about that,”

Bentley hated the way he just so nonchalantly said she never told me about that. Like he trusted her with his entire being and didn’t even have to wonder what else she didn’t tell him about. Like it wasn’t even a thought that crossed his mind.

Bentley exhaled. “Are you… going to the dance?”

“Me? No,” Rockie shook his head. “Are you going?”

Bentley shook his head. “No.”

“Again, great minds,” Rockie replied, tapping his temple. “I think the diner is up here.”

Just like he said, the diner was only a few blocks past where they were. They sat and chatted about school and life with a waitress that, thankfully, wasn’t Georgia. All the staff seemed to know Rockie, though — because they called him by his name.

Bentley got good old fashioned chicken, Rockie got nachos, and they talked for a while. And as they were leaving to head back to the school, Bentley realized something that made him sort of second-hand anxious about the whole Fluoxetine thing.

Rockie had picked and shoved his food around the whole time, but Bentley never saw him take a single bite.

--

tag list that never works lmao

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy

[cealesti]

"The Benko Gambit"?

That's a chess move, isn't it? I feel like this is either Tom centric, or Ron centric. I have my bias, obviously, because I did so enjoy how you portrayed Tom and his relationship to chess in "with eyes like these", but I would be curious anyhow cause I love chess in general.

As a gambit, it's rooted in the sacrifice of pawns, right?

Wonder what that might say about the focus character. If it's not Ron or Tom, I'm betting on Dumbledore.

oooh, what to say about "The Benko Gambit"?

edit: Right off the bat, this is a fic that's sort of a love letter to a bunch of fics I adore. The idea of Harry as Senior Undersecretary, for example, is straight out of "All For Show". The Snape & Hermione dynamic is something I only thought of after reading Hauntingly. You get it.

This is one of the WIPs I'm most excited about, definitely the one I've written more for, and probably my next big project after the "anybody else" series is eventually done with. This isn't really centered around a specific character, there's an ensemble cast to focus on, but Ron is a very important piece of the puzzle and yes, that's part of the reason I chose to go for a chess-themed title. The objective would be for every chapter to be named after chess manouvers; think "x opening, castling, y defense, check" so on and so forth.

The general strategy [of the Benko Gambit] is to sacrifice your Queen-side pawns in order to gain advantage (...) If the gambit is accepted, some of the lines that can develop are complicated and difficult to play.

This fic follows a back-and-forth structure; we go back between the trio's fifth year and the present moment of the fic, a good five years later. They're drastically different timelines: after all, in the present, Hermione, Snape, and Kinglsey are leading the Order of the Phoenix; Vee is playing at Government with Harry as his Senior Undersecretary and Ron and Draco as his Junior Undersecretaries. Susan Bones is an Auror, Luna is an Unspeakable, and this is very convenient, because Sirius Black has just popped out of the Veil, for reasons still unknown.

You may be asking: how on earth does any of that happen?

Here's a "for want of a nail" scenario: what if, in OotP, Ron doesn't throw Percy's letter away? What if - stick with me here - what if he answers it?

Wouldn't that be a hell of a gambit?

Snippet under the cut!

(September, 1995)

Tell me if you’ve heard this one before.

Three friends sit by a fireplace, late at night in their Common Room. The room is empty but for the three of them and a large ginger cat, who’s content to lay on his owner’s lap and purr up a storm. The rain pelts against the glass windows of the tower, wind whistling sharply, and though the room is warm and cozy and familiar, there’s a whisper of unease in the air.

Something that creeps under the skin, like disease. Like rot.

They’re living through a war, though many would not call it that. Many would rather call a fifteen-year-old orphan a liar, ridicule him in the papers, as quick to turn on him as they are to seek his favour, in a maddening media circus that speaks to the fickleness of public opinion.

You’re sixteen years old. You’re bright, and you’re driven, and you’re scared. You’re a target yourself, too muggleborn and too clever by half, but that’s not even the half of it, because one of your best friends has a target on his back as well, and the rest of the world is more than happy to pretend that it doesn’t exist.

Your other best friend has a letter clutched in his hand. His knuckles are white, ears red with fury and a little grief, for that letter was penned by a brother that he hasn’t seen in months. A brother who walked out on their family, blind to their reason in the face of his pride, and who now urges your friend to do the same.

Tell me if you’ve heard this one before.

The three friends ridicule the letter and the one who sent it. They sit in their fury against an establishment that was meant to protect them. They go through the school year and form a rebellion, a resistance, jump through hoops and outsmart older and more experienced wixen with little more than their guile and their will. At the end of the year, they fall headfirst into a trap. They lose the first of many friends.

This is not that story - though it might not be obvious at first.

In this story, they still fall headfirst into a trap after a misguided attempt at rescue. They still lose a friend. They still form a resistance, outsmart their watchers and all of those who would see them condemned for speaking the truth, and they do it with little more than their wits and their heart and their conviction.

But in this story - they don’t dismiss that letter.

In this story, your best friend, who is proud and brave and selfless, the epitome of what a fairytale hero should be -

In this story, he raises his head, green eyes flashing with something shrewd. Something new.

In this story, he pauses, and says:

“We can use this.”

[lucidheart3]

I’m here with a small AU fic once again, this also belongs in my AU series

Pen Pals

"A letter?! Sis, come quick! It's from Toronto!"

A girl looking the same age as him shouts, snatching the piece of paper from the mail box. An older girl comes out, and Sonic bows down so that the bush before him hides him better.The younger girl gives her the letter, jumping up and down impatiently as the other rips the envelope and skims over the content, brows furrowed.

"What?" The younger asks, finally standing still. The other responds with squeels and embraces her, shouting for their parents.

"I'm accepted!" She cries with joy, and Sonic frowns.

"Who is this Toronto guy and why does it make them happy that he accepted her?" Sonic questions, his hand on his chin, then shrugs.

"Whatever.Good for them." He mutters,then the parents show up He doesn't watch the mother embrace her daughters, or doesn't hear the father declare they are going out to eat. He takes off, the wind quickly brushing off the leaves stuck on his quills. His feet take him to the house he spies on hangs out around the most, Donut Lord's home. Since the sun is still up, the house is empty save for that annoying golden furball Donut Lord smothers. Sonic has tried so many times to understand how a creature like that could be worth all that petting, taking to walks, and even cleaning it's poops.

"I'm totally cuter than it." He says, crossing his arms against his chest, pouting.He watches the dog run in circles in the room, then giggles.

"Maybe Donut Lord and Pretzel Lady like the dog because it is funny? Makes sense to me." Satisfied, he turns away from the window and zips to the entrance of the home, then clears his throat.

"Hello! I'm Sonic and I came here from Mobius! I've been living in Green Hills for four years! Promise I'm a friendly alien, no world domination or abduction plans attached! So...what do you say we hang out sometime? Like... really hang out? Not like...me being there and you being unaware of it?" He says, then deflates.

"It won't work!" He flails his arms, and his brows furrow. He starts walking in circles, his pupils locked on the points of his shoes.

"It shouldn't work, Sonic, Longclaw told you to stay hidden! How can you stay hidden if you talk to them?!" He forces his feet to turn away from the door. Just as he is about to run off, the mailbox in front of the house catches his eye. He can't supress the grin making it's way on his lips, and it takes all of his willpower to not shout with joy right then and there. He shuts his lips into a tight-lipped smile, and clenches his fists.

"Ha! I can write a letter!" He says, excitement filling his chest.His powers buzzing under his skin, he runs off to his cave with a jump to his step. For once, his gaze has a different purpose roaming around his cave than finding something to entertain himself. He manages to find a half-filled notebook he had found in a trash bin, couple of short pencils he can barely hold between his fingers and of course, his crayons. He pulls his bean bag chair in front of the makeshift table, then grabs his limited stationary.

"Okay! Let's begin! To Donut Lord? No, that won't do! What is his name? Hmm..." Sonic has never approached people close enough to hear their names except for Crazy Carl's, who keeps on shouting people to stop calling him that.

"What is his job? Cop? No,that isn't quite right. I've heard them call him... Ha! Sheriff!" To... Sheriff of the Green Hills!" He smiles to himself, then quickly moves on to writing.

Read the rest on AO3

[sequinsmile-x]

This is Our Place, We Make the Rules

A collection of mini-fics and one-shots of Hotchniss being domestic idiots in love.

Chapter 2 - Baking

-x-

A short and sweet little thing for you all on this Saturday evening <3

If you have anything you would like to see in this series let me know!

-x-

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: None!

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

“It doesn’t taste like it does when Aunt Pen makes it.” 

Emily looks over at Jack who was standing over a mixing bowl full of cake batter, his face scrunched up as he eats another spoonful just to be sure. 

It was Aaron’s birthday. He was at work, only his second day back since their son, Benjamin, had been born four weeks ago. The first month of their son's life had been filled with hardly any sleep, long days and so much love she still thought she could burst with it. The first step towards normality, or however normal their life would look from here on out, had been hard when Aaron went back to work. It meant she was up more with the baby in the night, despite Aaron being willing to share the load, but she was insistent. The last thing she needed was for him to get hurt in the field because his exhaustion led to a poor decision or slow reaction. 

She’d been awake when he left for work that morning. They exchanged a sleepy smile and a kiss as she wished him a happy birthday before he walked out the front door. 

Despite her exhaustion, and the fact Benjamin would cry if she put him down, she’d for some reason decided to try and make her husband a birthday cake. She’d gone to the store with Jack after picking him up from school the day before, the young boy delighted to show his baby brother off to his friends and teacher, and picked up two boxes of cake mix. The second box was purely a backup in case something when wrong the first time, which, according to her eldest, it had. 

“Thats strange, we followed the instructions,” she says, looking down at the newborn against her chest in the baby wrap Penelope had bought them, Benjamin fast asleep after his latest feeding, and she walks over to the kitchen counter, “Let me taste.” Jack passes her a spoon and she tastes it, grimacing at the flavour she wasn’t expecting, “Maybe the cake mix is old?”

Jack furrows his brows, looking up at her curiously, “But we bought it at the store yesterday.” 

Her response is cut off by the front door opening, indicating Aaron was home, and she looks at the clock on the wall, realising it was much later than she thought it was, her concept of time completely off since Benjamin was born.

“Shit.” 

“Bad word, Mom,” Jack says, looking up at her with an expression that was 100% Aaron, and she smiles at him, removing her hand from Benjamin’s back to run it through Jack’s hair. 

“You’re right,” she says, “Sorry, honey.” 

Aaron walks into the kitchen, a wide smile on his face at the sight of his family and Jack runs over, his enthusiasm rolling off of him as he hugs his father.

“Happy birthday, Dad,” he says, “We tried to make you a cake but it tastes weird.” 

Aaron chuckles and hugs his son back, “Thanks buddy,” he looks up at his wife, and smiles curiously as he watches her staring back and forth between the mixing bowl and the empty box of cake mix next to it. He turns back to his son and ruffles his hair, “Why don’t you go play for a little bit, ok? We’ll order something in for dinner.” 

Jack nods and runs off, leaving them in the kitchen, and Aaron walks towards Emily. He kisses the top of her head before leaning down to the same with their youngest son, his hand on the baby’s back through the baby wrap. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says, “You didn’t have to make me a cake.” 

“Hi,” she replies, tasting the cake batter again and grimacing as she ignores the rest of his sentence, “It tastes off and I can’t figure out why,” she says, her hands on Benjamin’s back as she shifts side to side, determined to keep him asleep. 

Aaron leans past her and grabs a spoon, dipping it into the batter and tasting it himself. He’s grateful for law school, for his years as an FBI agent, because they mean he doesn’t react physically. The batter doesn’t taste terrible, but his wife is right when she says it doesn’t taste correct. He looks past the mixing bowl to the ingredients behind it. The Betty Crocket box tipped onto its side, with the cake mix over the counter. The measuring jug she’d poured the water into, the egg carton.

And the bottle of olive oil.

He looks at his wife before he picks up the oil, carefully picking his words, “Sweetheart, did you use this?”

“Yes,” she replies, “Was that wrong?”

“The recipe says to use vegetable oil,” he explains casually, ensuring that he fights his smile, knowing his very sleep-deprived wife wouldn’t appreciate it. 

“Are they…different?” She asks, and the flash of amusement across his face that he can’t control is enough of an answer, “They are different.” 

He watches as her eye flood with tears before they immediately spill onto her cheeks. Her chin trembles with the force of her emotions, unable to hold them back because of her hormones and the complete lack of sleep that came with parenting a newborn. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, putting the olive oil down before he pulls her into a hug, careful to ensure Benjamin isn’t crushed between them, “It’s ok,” he assures her, kissing the top of her head, “I saw another box of the cake mix in the pantry, I can make it-”

“It’s your birthday, Aaron,” she says fiercely, pulling away to look at him, tears still falling from her lash line as she wipes her cheeks, “You shouldn’t have to make your own birthday cake because your wife is useless.” 

All she can think of is her birthday only a few weeks ago. Benjamin had only been a week old and Aaron had gone out of his way to make her feel special. He’d bought her favourite pastries from a French bakery on the other side of town and had Dave pick them up and deliver them so he didn’t have to leave her alone with the baby after a particularly rough night. He’d made her a cake and run her a bath, pacing back and forth just on the other side of the door with Benjamin in his arms and one of her pyjama shirts over his shoulder so the newborn could be comforted by her scent as she had a brief but well-needed break. 

He’d given her the perfect birthday and she couldn’t even bake him a damn cake. 

“Hey,” he says firmly, her eyes snapping to his because of the tone of voice he rarely used at home, “You aren’t useless,” he says, placing his hand on her shoulder, “Not at all. You never have been and you never will be.” 

Her tears turn into sobs and she feels nothing short of ridiculous. She’s seen the worst of humanity, has experienced it first-hand, and here she was, standing in her kitchen sobbing over a fucking birthday cake and her husband being kind. 

“Damn it,” she exclaims, and she looks down at Benjamin and chokes on a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob when she sees he’s still fast asleep, his cheek against her chest and his mouth slacked open, “He can’t sleep in his bassinet but he can sleep against me when I’m crying like an idiot.” 

He, smartly, holds back a comment that it was likely because Benjamin was used to her crying because he valued his life, and he smiles at her instead. 

Aaron leans in to look at their son and runs his hand over the baby’s dark hair, “You’re not an idiot,” he says, smiling at Emily before he kisses her cheek, “You’re an excellent agent and profiler, a fantastic mother. And you make one hell of an Old Fashioned,” he says, smiling when she chuckles at the last part, wiping her cheeks again, “You are good at so many things, sweetheart, baking has just never been one of them,” he says, exchanging a soft smile with her as he tucks some hair behind her ear, “But I love you for trying just after you’ve our son whilst you have him strapped to your chest. You’re the best wife ever.” 

She glares at him, somehow still intimidating in her sweats and with a baby strapped to her, “Do you want me to just cry forever?” 

“Of course not,” he says, kissing her before stepping back, “Now, why don’t you and Benji go to the living room and I’ll clean up and remake the cake, and then we’ll sort dinner?”

She bites her lower lip and looks at him, wanting nothing more than to get off her feet and snuggle with her baby, “Are you sure? I feel bad, it’s your birthday.” 

“And you already gave me the best early birthday present ever when you gave me this little guy last month,” he says, pointing to their son. Emily feels a familiar burning at the back of her throat, and she wonders if she will ever go back to being able to control her emotions. 

“Aaron, what did I just say about making me cry?” 

“Right, sorry,” he says winking at her before he places his hands on her shoulders, encouraging her to turn around and head out of the kitchen, “I’ll come and join you two when I’m done, ok?” 

“Ok,” she says, kissing the top of Benjamin’s head, “Come on sweet boy, let's go sit down.” 

Aaron smiles as he watches her go, whispering to the baby the entire way, and he turns back to the mess of a kitchen, his hands on his hips as he sighs, wondering how his wife and son were able to make such a mess when making a boxed cake. 

There was nowhere he’d rather be on his birthday than in his home with his family, even if it did mean he had to make his own birthday cake. 

-x-

Tag list:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

[geneeste]

Ok, for the weird writer questions: 2, 7, 10, 16, 27, 35 :D

Thank you so much for these! Such good choices.

2. If you had to give up your keyboard and write your stories exclusively by hand, could you do it? If you already write everything by hand, a) are you a wizard and b) pen or pencil?

I would be very sad to give up my keyboard, but I could do it! My very first novella fanfic was written mostly by hand on legal pads and in random notebooks, which I then transcribed when I had access to the family computer. I think I still have those pages saved in a binder in a box somewhere (or at least I hope I do - I'd be heartbroken to have lost it!).

I'm going to answer the second part too just because I wanna -- I'm a pen girly, all the way, even though it's kind of bonkers for someone like me to draft in pen (constantly changing my mind and editing myself as I go). Pencils just don't offer the same atmosphere for me, despite being way more practical.

7. What is your deepest joy about writing? Honestly, I think I'm still trying to discover it!

When I was a very young teenager, I wrote like crazy and really wasn't that worried about whether it was good or how it would be received. But then, as often happens, I started to get really self-conscious and perfectionist about anything I wrote, and I sort of skipped learning about the joy of a shitty first draft that you then edit to perfection.

That pressure of writing it perfectly on the first try is so stifling, and it really killed the joy of writing for me to the point that the only time I really truly enjoyed it was when I was 1) intentionally writing bad!fic, or 2) writing while tipsy/drunk. Which, as you can imagine, is neither a healthy relationship with creativity nor with alcohol.

It's getting better, but it's definitely something I'm still struggling with (even at nearly 40!), because on the one hand I love fangirling and I have these characters and ships that I adore, and I have so many headfics that I really do want to share with people. But on the other hand, I'm still learning how to be me as a writer and not be miserable. I love the outcome, so I'm trying to learn to love the process.

So I don't know, honestly! Ask me again in a few years. ;)

10. Has a piece of writing ever "haunted" you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

Oh, absolutely, both in funny ways and serious ways.

This happens to me all the time with fic -- there's a line from Ryo Sen and Jo March's A Winning Strategy series from years and years ago that I still quote to myself: "Empty barn. Open Door. Horse very much gone." And @missparker wrote a Sam/Jack kid!fic series that to this day haunts my thoughts because of how good and how tragic it is -- it's just the best kind of unsettling. And there are many more fanfic that just stick in my brain.

And it definitely happens with my own fic, too. I wrote a character death fic back in 2007 that, almost immediately after writing it, I knew I'd have to revisit someday when I was ready to (which I finally did in 2021). And the fic I'm currently working on for the same pairing, I have a whole universe in my head that I'm constantly wandering into, playing with, building out the story and watching how the characters react.

Haunting, to me, is sort of a lovely thing. It might be the afterimage of a poignant or wonderful story, or the promise of story that might someday be. The outline's always there, but it's ephemeral enough that the meaning changes as you do.

16. What's the weirdest thing you've ever used as a bookmark?

Oh boy, this is probably a boring answer. I've used receipts, pamphlets, actual bookmarks, bills. I used an expired driver's license one time. I've started pressing flowers and using those as bookmarks recently. But sadly, I don't think I have a truly interesting makeshift bookmark to speak of. XD

27. Who is the most stressful character you've ever written? Why?

Probably Bones from the eponymous TV show, because she has such a specific voice and personality. And also because she's an iconically neurodivergent character, and I always felt that if she wasn't written with care, it would be very easy to create a caricature that didn't do her justice. It's also probably why I didn't write very many stories in the Bones fandom, because I was never totally confident that I got her character right.

35. What's your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

Ha! Probably that you have to ease readers into things. I tend to be more from the "Fuck it, readers are savvy and they'll figure it out" school of fiction writing. This is certainly easier to do with fanfiction, where most of the world and characters are already known and it's just the circumstances that are new. I haven't written original fiction in ages, but even as a reader it's what I prefer. I don't want to be carefully fed every point of character development or plot twist -- give me the clues and let me tease it out myself.

[gogandmagog]

Okay, cute! Tagged by @batrachised! Thanks so much for thinking of me, you’re the actual best!

1-How many works do you have on AO3? 

Aw, man. Not a single one. I’m on fanfiction.net, because I feel like it’s the best spot to find fellowship with other likeminded or book-based Montgomery readers. (At least for the Anne series.) 

2-What's your total AO3 word count?    Not a lot! I’ve written four weency sketches that don’t actually even count fully as stories, because there’s scarcely any plot, only niceties and overall sweetness. My word count is something around 6.7K, which is piteous, following batrachised! 

3-What fandoms do you write for?    Lucy Maud Montgomery. I’ve done a lot of Anne, and little of Emily. 

4-What are your top 5 fics by kudos?    I haven’t even written five! I’m probably unqualified for this whole list of questions. Is a kudo interchangeable with a follow? My most followed is the Smugglers Jug.

5-Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?    Yes, of course! If anyone has a fanfiction.net account, and they left me a comment, I’ve responded over private message, which is the vehicle that ff.net allows for such correspondence. It never feels like enough, though! In a perfect world, I’d be able to take you out for coffee or tea, as a way of saying thanks. Comments or reviews mean so much. 

6-What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?  

Angst? I don’t know her. 

7-What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? 

Sincerely all of them. Anne and Gilbert are happy in canon, and all I even do are canon expansion/inserts.

8-Do you get hate on fics? 

Mercifully, no. I’d probably cry. I can’t imagine what inspires people to leave hateful comments. It’s fan fiction! It’s supposed to be fun!

9-Do you write smut? If so what kind? 

Please, I’m blushing. I’m actually writing something right now (when I say ‘right now,’ I just mean that it’s a Word document I’ve glanced at in the last six weeks) that I’ll have to label as M! But it’s not all that explicit, and it’s really just something seen by a third party. And anyway, we’ll see if I can ever summon the courage needed to post it.

10-Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not yet, sorry!

11-Have you ever had a fic stolen?     I don’t think so! Small potatoes. 

12-Have you ever had a fic translated?    One time someone asked me if they could "podfic" one of my works, but this is the closest I’ve ever gotten to such a thing. 

13-Have you ever cowritten a fic before? 

I didn’t even know that was a thing! I love it.

14-What's your all-time favourite ship? 

Walter/Una? Walter’s parents, too.

15-What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will? 

I mean… speaking of crossovers! I have about 2K words done of an Ingleside/the Alienist (they exist is the same time period, and only 1200 KM apart; in my brain this is totally feasible) crossover that sees an awful murderer land in Glen St. Mary, and Doctor Blythe being relied upon by Doctor Kreizler for professional assistance throughout. I might have the time to complete this when I’m 85.

16-What are your writing strengths? 

I think it’s a strength that I always want to be writing, isn’t it?

17-What are your writing weaknesses? 

I can’t stop writing run-on sentences. Like… think an entire paragraph that’s one sentence. I’m wholly aware that I do it. But I still can’t stop. I’m out of control, really. In other places, while it’s true I always want to be writing, I also can’t write unless I have the right pen the exact environment and circumstances that I feel are conducive to my best writing. (A desk, my favourite lappy, an empty house, pink noise, and a coffee.) If one small thing is off, I’m useless to my own endeavours.

18-Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? 

I could do it in Lushootseed?

19-First fandom you wrote for? 

Lucy Maud Montgomery books. First I read for, first I wrote for, first I ever cared enough about to seek ‘more’ of. We can add ‘only’ here too.

20-Favorite fic you've ever written? 

Awoo, I don’t know! They all stress me out equally? No matter what, I’ll always think to myself, ‘yikes, I could have done that better.’ I wish this had asked for recs, though! I have a bunch of those.

21-Tagging:

@dandelionsandderivatives! 🫶🏻

[murderoushagthesequel]

my cover for teach them how to dream by @im-still-tryin-to-find-it is done!

the full image is here, and below the ~keep reading~ will be the front cover, spine, and back cover individually in better quality with explanations (this will include minor spoilers, mainly references to specific scenes i think are cute)

for those of you that haven’t read tthtd and don’t want spoilers, read it! you won’t regret it. if the color and joy i tried to convey on this cover is any sign, it’s every bit as cute and bright as i’ve drawn it.

---

front cover (click for better quality):

so the front cover obviously has the most easter eggs, but i’ll explain them all here for all y’all who are interested:

the stars above the blackboard are meant to resemble the glow-in-the-dark stars that are referenced a few times throughout the story

i really hope some of you get this but i added those white/blackboard borders teachers would always put up with fun patterns on them, i picked the alphabet

the chalkboard drawings!

a stack of chocolate chip pancakes because harry is obsessed with them

a whisk from james and regulus' halloween costumes

a text convo because the texting is pretty important in this fic

the framed poem!!

forget-me-nots because they just remind me of jegulus

snowflakes and hearts because of james’ love confession on christmas

butterflies flying in the shape of a heart: one is red for james and one is green for regulus

and finally a sunrise/sunset because james texting reg sunrise/sunset pictures!

ofc regulus likes reading in general but i drew the books specifically thinking about when regulus goes to lily’s bookstore and they first become friends

a pen cup both because it’s a classroom and because i wanted a way to represent regulus and james’ love of writing (thinking about the scene where regulus just looks at james' empty google doc and starts writing)

a rotten apple to reference one of my favorite scenes, chapter 6: the apple orchard, when regulus and james are talking about the kids finding rotten apples and then james has to eat one because harry asks him to

the desk, idk why i just picture regulus having this needlessly fancy wooden desk

and finally the sun streaming through the windows, i’ll explain a bit more when i get to the back cover

spine (click for better quality):

not much to go over here but

used the ao3 logo as a publisher mark

same writing of the title as the front cover but in solid writing instead of chalk

paint splatters for the background!

back cover (click for better quality):

starting with the background, again we got paint splatters

most books have a review on the back so i included an excerpt of my own review at the top

then one of my favorite quotes which is just so cute shut up don’t talk to me (this quote is part of the reason i included the sun streaming through the windows on the front cover)

and the official description by gabby from ao3

i used hearts as a separator between the words just because love!

and there are little doodles around both to fill space and also for the vibes

copied the cover art credit format from some books but without the publisher cuz there is none

and then the barcode! believe it or not there’s a lot here:

first of all the price, books in the us usually have prices written like that but the second one is canada- i changed it to international because it's the internet! and the marauders fandom is international!

the barcode itself is made up i just drew it

but the numbers are code for a series of letters (the alphabet where every 10 letters is assigned to the numbers 0-9) it spells “caught the moon” which is a reference to regulus and sirius’ memory of sneaking out to go capture the moon

and the qr code is a real qr code that leads you to the first chapter of tthtd!

ok that took forever to type out lol

i had a bit of trouble trying to balance out the kindergarten-y aspect with the actual plot and love story but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out anyway

if you haven’t read teach them how to dream yet PLEASE do, making this cover and going back through all my favorite parts of the story was such a joy and i really hope you appreciate it! i could only include so many references on this cover, there's so much more in the story.

going to go take a break and not move my hands for 5 hours because i just typed this all out on my ipad.

[the-travelling-witch]

guess who's alive? exactly, me!! :D *slumps down and never gets up* (sorry in advance this will be quite the long ask >_<)

i get the feeling of fried brain, my session just finished ;-; #neveragain (wish i could say it for real tho) it's not a problem if you can't add much ahah, really, so don't worry :3

i feel you, my rbf isn't of any help but luckily those who receive my love know it and about the rest i don't care °v° and as i said (i think) as long as you're genuine i don't think that's a problem, honestly is what matters ^u^

yeah i noticed the game and noticed only now i forgot to ask you a question but now head is empty so whatever 🫠 if you say so then brb gonna go buy pencils for xiao and you so you can fill each other's skin with drawings and writings eheh~

me too honestly, i just need to relax, eat good food and sleep for hours trapping the indigo menace in a cuddling hug >:3 for movies i'm down bad for pixar but indie and artsy sounds good too 👀 and slow dancing at night is just something sooo cute and sosksiskdjsjskwj i'm down bad pt2

we can agree that villainous fictional men >>>>>>>>> goody two-shoes hero, but morally grey characters deserve a mention of honor, a whole hall just for them @^@

NOW, ONTO THE NEW MODERN SERIES FIC FUCK I'M SO EIDJWKSNDKWJWOSJSIHS

childe you cocky little menace with that shit-eating grin 🤺 i love this type of grin it sends me on cloud nine but also actives my fighting spirit lmao

i loved every word and the implicit mention of scara's partner and childe's being colleagues, what a chaos putting those two in the same room because of their lovers (saw the other asks, died of laughter)

it had me going 👀 when reader went "one coffee for the mystery man" LIKE MAN THE AUDACITY i would have prayed the universe to swallow me especially after ginger's reply folsdoodsj so good really

also, a curiosity: since you mentioned yanqing (my son <3) does this mean that gi and hsr men will interact more often, being in the same universe? tbh knowing some characters either they will get along well or a big fight would start the moment they see each other pfft-

anyway, i think that i covered everything so that's all! as always, take care, drink water and coffee, eat healthy and sleep well at night, you can do this! and good luck with uni :3

bye bye~

— ❄️

hii great to see you back and good job on surviving!! i’ll put the answer under a cut for brevity’s sake haha

well i hope i sound and look genuine bc sometimes i feel like i don’t and if i try to sound more excited, people would probably think i’m faking it; but yeah my friends probably know by now how i act so i think i should be good :>

don’t force yourself to participate if you can’t come up with something, i promise i still have enough material to go through (me, typing a novel for a moot’s entry /aff); whenever i doodle on my arm i normally just use ball point pens or eyeliners but i also saw people using like actual colours for painting/body paint and i really want to try that; having someone drag a brush and paint over your back must be such a funny feeling <3

i’m not watching a lot of films right now, so i can’t say what my favourite genre is but i do love a good animation (i still need to see the new spiderman aaahhh); speaking of going to the cinema: there’s sth so special about going there during daytime and coming back out when it’s dark outside; imagine walking home after the film with your fave, he gives you his jacket against the chill of the evening and you laugh and joke as you discuss the film you just saw until he gently grabs your hand and starts twirling you around under the light of a street lamp… *sigh* what a dream (frantically scribbles into my notes for the modern au hshsh)

i just think villains and morally grey characters just are much more fun to explore; would i want hazbin hotel’s alastor to be real or would i like him if i met him? no because he is/was a serial killer, but in fiction? fascinating, intriguing, fun to explore; fiction just gives us the means to explore these morally not so cool actions and mindsets without most of the consequences, and i love that (also it really is sexy if a bad guy drops everything for their love; who wouldn’t want to be their partner’s priority; also also, villains with their own set of moral code, like ‘sure i’ll burn down a city but hit a woman? i would never’)

childe activates my fighting spirit in general, like come over here and let’s bicker, you gorgeous idiot, and maybe i’ll kiss you afterwards <3 and also yes that grin… it might be here bc of the writer’s bias…

i just had to make them colleagues!! please just imagine them gossiping about their bfs after work or during the double date the readers are just talking the night away whereas childe and scara just have this icy atmosphere around them, but the second their partners look over they melt bc they’re just so in love dorks, all of them

and omg yes, thank you for mentioning it, i’ve been dying for someone to point it out: it’s official, it’s a genshin/honkai shared au!! it’ll be mostly genshin with some hsr characters but yes!! they’re sharing the same universe, they will be interacting (now we wait for someone to mention the company vizion is signed under… i wonder who works there… /silly)

thank you, make sure to take care of yourself as well!! <3

[nobodys-hekatonchires]

Hek's Ace Attorney Fic Masterlist

(as of Jan 2025)

| Main AO3 | Old AO3 |

| Main Fic Masterlist | Master Post |

(Chronological or series order)

One-shots

I'm (Not) Willing To Wait For It | 4,668 words|

"Ms Fey, how can I help you?" He asked politely, setting his pen down as the colour returned to his skin, though a red mark made itself known where the pen had dug in. "I've come to talk."

Getting Older Together | 1,087 words |

Phoenix is late to bed, Miles goes looking.

Suffocating All For Nothing | 2,826 words |

He’d been threatened by people before, people much more powerful, people in much high statues then him, people who could have destroyed his life.

Honey, Just Put Your Sweet Lips On My Lips | 5,808 words |

Currently, the Wright apartment was buzzing with sedate New Year's energy again for the first time in eight disbarred years.

Ulterior Motives | 524 words |

"Have you never seen a romance movie where the couple go to the cinema and just make out the whole time?"

I Have Never Known Sleep Like the Slumber That Creeps to Me | 1,662 words|

The late night (or earlier morning) noises of Los Angeles city was the music that accompanied a tired and worked Miles home in his red car.

Shoot Me Once, Shame On You | 9,056 words |

Gourd Lake was quiet until two head-splitting shots rang out in quick succession just as Christmas Eve rolled over to Christmas Day.

Swallow Handfuls of Broken Glass, I'm Bleeding From the Inside | 1,891 words|

Watching a trial brings back unwanted memories for Phoenix.

You Don't Get To Choose Your Nightmares | 2,237 words |

Miles wakes during the night after Phoenix has a nightmare

I Don't Let That Rule My Life At All | 2,073 words |

Phoenix's suit no longer fits after seven years of disbarment

This Is The Real World | 2,652 words |

The day after Kay and Athena tried to help Miles with his marriage issues with Phoenix

Wanton | 2,542 | NSFW |

It wasn’t the first time Detective Badd had been approached by Gregory Edgeworth, informing him of his son’s plans to spend the night at his friend’s house, and it wasn’t the first time Badd had seen the hidden meaning behind the worlds and later that night found himself straddled by the same defence attorney in his bed.

Broken Arms But Not Hearts | 5,055 words |

Phoenix found himself running way later than usual when his bike collided with something solid. He hadn’t been paying attention at all and one moment Phoenix was pedalling on his bike across an empty driveway and then the next he was rolling over someone’s car boot and dropping down hard on the wet concrete right into a puddle

Prosecutor Punching Bag | 892 |

At some point, word got out that he was a prosecutor. Diego knew what prisoners did to those who had a background in law, especially the ones that are responsible for putting them away.

Things Are Better If I Stay | 11,120 words | NSFW |

"Miles did not find out about Wright’s disbarment straight away. In fact, it was almost embarrassing how long it took." When Miles finds out about Phoenix's disbarment, he takes a plane home, ready to help his partner however he can

Safe | 1,253 words |

Something wakes Miles during the night, crawling into the bed he shared with Wright

Sickness | 1,249 words |

Simply a sick father comforting his sick daughter

"The number of times I’ve begged night not to yield to you" | 80 |

A brief, voyeuristic snapshot into a moment of passion between Phoenix and Miles

Multi-chapter

You Cannot Schedule Death | 1/? | 583 | HIATUS |

The Phoenix must burn

A Secret For The Trials That Life Can Offer | 9/9 | 44,163 words |

After his father died, Miles became the protégé of Manfred von Karma, taught to perfect and nothing else. When he unexpectedly meets a familiar face after a long time, one that now doesn't seem to want to leave him along, Miles' life takes a twist that goes against all his perfection. Phoenix suddenly reunites with a long-lost friend he had been hoping to find one day, and when he does, a plan starts to spin in motion to get through the expectations thrown upon him just because of his title. A ball, one for the entire kingdom, a place where the Prince was supposed to find his new partner.

Series

One man's 'magic' is another man's engineering (Series)

My Ace Attorney Supernatural/Magical AU

1. July 2nd, 1878 | 1/1 | 680 words |

“Edgeworth. What brings you here?” “If you must know, I was following the scent of a waterlogged bird.”

2. Nobody Had Me The Way You Did | 1/1 | 2,916 words | NSFW |

Miles and Phoenix have sex

3. Butchered | 1/1 | 2,681|

At some point during the night, they had both been taken from their beds. Maya wasn’t sure how they had got past her sigils and taken down every single security measure she had in both the village and her home in Kurain, but they had, and the two of them had ended up wherever they were now.

NaruMitsu (N)SFW Week 2021/22 (Series)

The combined series for Narumitsu Week from 2021 and 2022

1. Hidden Deep In Murky Darkness His Miserable End | 1/1 | 1,328 |

The cave Miles found himself in was as dark, wet, and cold as anything could be but he was here for one thing, and one thing only, and he wasn't going to leave until it was found.

2. Are You Down To Be a Distraction | 1/1 | 1,352 | NSFW |

To say Miles was easily distracted was a lie, unless it was his husband

3. July 2nd, 1878 | 1/1 | 680 |

“Edgeworth. What brings you here?” “If you must know, I was following the scent of a waterlogged bird.”

4. Sex Suits You | 1/1 | 604 words | NSFW |

Miles and Phoenix enjoy each others newly tailored suits

5. Stay but I oughta leave and Trust me, my heart bleeds | 1/1 | 3,207 words|

Phoenix has a vivid nightmares and Miles has some deep regrets

[guiltyblogging]

Character Creation - [Currently Untitled Project]

I am creating a family for a tv series pilot I need to come up with for a University Project.

The children we focus on are Felix 15 about to turn 16, Callum 12 and Zena 10. This is set in an a post apocalyptic society (aka dodgy as fuck high walled city segregated in two). They end up going on an adventure to find out what's going on and find out where their mum and their friends have vanished to.

The father Ryan is a COO (Chief Operations Officer) and senior Doctor in a hospital where the Hospital's Director took over his father's position and sent him off to a safe place in his old age (a madhouse where they experiment on the patients), Ryan is wilfully ignorant and over the series we see him grow as a person and get caught in the dilemma of the fact that he is facilitating the bad things but he doesn't want to disrupt his life to stop them (he is not a good man) but he does want to see his kids again etc (bad man, okay father)

The Mother Clarissa is chronically ill, and in her neighbourhood she acts as an advocate and tries to help people remain in their homes, access treatments they need, get food etc. That is until on one of the children exchanges she doesn't turn up, Ryan still needs to work so walks the kids down to her in the slums and finds her gone, her house being professionally emptied and cleaned, the neighbours home is spotless with nobody living there. This is what leads to the children splitting off from their father and going on the adventure. This is where we gather most of the clues to what the fuck is going on within the city walls.

Thank you for your help.

Oh the premise started from how we seem to have brushed covid away as "just another flu" (its a zombie fic), classism and Ablism <- mainly that those who aren't fit, healthy and productive are defective, lazy and other. The British disabled colonies and the American's Ugly Laws.

If you'd like to hear more or would like to suggest other characters we may meet along the way so I can flesh this out a bit more for class.

If you'd like to know more about the other characters I have penned out so far let me know.

Series name ideas would be handy

Or you could even create a fantasy cast of actors and production crew , god, a fantasy cast suggestion would be wonderful.

The target age aim is closer to Zombies (Disney) [8+] and Warm Bodies [pg13] than The Walking Dead (multi media medley) and Ana and the Apocalypse [15+]. Serious topics with levity more of a Malcolm in the Middle, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Sabrina the Teenage Witch and Modern Family [all 13+] where it catches both younger and older audiences.

[garoujo]

YOU HAVE (1) NEW REQUEST FROM @GETO SUGURU . . .

WANNA PLAY SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN?

➤ seven minutes in heaven series masterlist.

NEW MESSAGE @WARNINGS : f!reader, college!au, best friends to lovers, frat party!au, exhibitionism, mutual pining, unprotected sex, one of those very cliche bickering / fighting to making out scenes, fingering, confessions, seven minutes in heaven scenarios that definitely last longer than seven minutes, creampie, dry humping.

(1) ATTACHMENT @WC : est. 5.3k

NEW MESSAGE FROM EMMIE @GAROUJO : i’ve done hcs about kissing during an argument before n ngl they kinda inspired this so :3 another lil instalment to the series + only two to go!! fank yew for sm support on these fics <3

geto suguru had always been a constant in your life, he was the consistency despite the inevitable change of everything else and you still think fondly back on the years spent together with your bestfriend.

he’d always been kind to you, well mannered and polite despite being a little fragile but he was your other half in a way and always pushed you to achieve everything he knew you could. he was your rock and the shoulder you’d cried on a few too many times than you’d like to recall. but he’d always treated you with an honesty and a respect that you basked in and held close to your chest through the years.

you remember sitting in the same tea shop you still visit now five years ago, you’d sigh with a “suguru” when you didn’t get a question in your homework, and you’d hear him break into laughter before crossing his arms over his chest when you rested your head on the table, pouting while he pinched at your cheek and told you to let him see.

you still have your notebooks that you’d both use to doodle in class, steady scratches of ink and his name signed across the top, but now it’s been replaced by a laptop that he’d help you pick out when you graduated. it’s the same as his and you’re glad you’d stood your ground when it came to your insistence on a webcam, because you still found comfort in the late night cram sessions with suguru — pulling your laptop onto your stomach while he scribbles away at his notes, with the same type of pen he always used.

“we’re gonna need coffee in the morning, it’s almost 1am already.” you’d groan, rubbing at the your eyes with the heel of your palm and you’d watch your bestfriend lean back to stretch, his shirt rising slightly to show off the smooth ivory muscle that dips into the waistband of his sweatpants.

“it’s your turn, i got the last two.” suguru would hum, soft syllables as a teasing sort of smile twitches at his lips and you’d always feign a pout just so he’d look at you like that a little longer.

you remember it was the same way he looked at you as you both sat on the roof of your childhood home before you left for college, the one that was on the same street as his while the packed up boxes sat stacked in your room. your suitcase sat right next to his at the door and how both help the tangible pieces of your life, and it’s something that you still smile at.

“i’m still here with you.” is what suguru had told you in honesty when he noticed you staring into the same spot in the night sky, shuffling closer to wrap you in an embrace and rub at your back, and you still smiled despite the ache that settled in your chest that night at the thought of your cleared bedroom and the empty space it left.

“always?” you’d asked with uncertainty but the “always.” that fell quickly from your best friends lips in reply was nothing but earnest, honest.

it still hurt, but when you turned to meet his kind-hearted smile you noticed that the pain dulled, and maybe it was then that you first found yourself realising that he would always have you, your love, your vulnerability and you’re truth.

and maybe that’s when love began to take its first few tentative steps to meet you both.

“are my good looks distracting you, sweet thing?” satoru laughs, pulling you back to where you are now, in the overheated living room of the frat party he’d dragged you and suguru too, and a look over your shoulder would reveal your dark haired bestfriend who gives you a grin.

he looks a little tired, you think. suguru’s kept his hair a little longer than how he used to back in high school, back when he didn’t used to style his hair and it hung around the front of his eyes. he pulls it back, it’s still slightly messy but it fits, and it frames his features when he blinks at you, soft and slow before he’s raising his brow in a way that never fails to make you feel warm.

it’s become almost an immediate reaction when you turn back to roll your eyes at whatever seems to come out of satoru’s mouth at this point, snorting before he’s righting himself with a laugh and shooting you a cocky sort of wink.

you’d become comfortable in the push and pull you’d found in your group of friends, you and suguru had both met gojo in your first year and it warmed you from the inside at how quickly you three came together ( with the addition of utahime, who’s excuse for not coming to the party tonight was the exam she has in a few days, and how she couldn’t afford to lose the braincells that she claims hanging around with satoru would melt )

but with your blooming friendship you had realised just how perceptive gojo satoru was, having him pick up on your crush on your bestfriend fairly quickly, and maybe it was his realisation that made you truly realise it yourself.

even though you basically had to swear your trust to him for life when he’d teased you about it, making you tickle relentlessly at his sides until he was wiping his tears with his loud laughter and swearing secrecy.

you hear suguru laugh at gojo’s teasing in the now but then his eyes are back on you, and he really looks at you before he’s nudging into your side and mouthing a “you really okay?” because at the root of who he was—suguru has always been kind, and you can’t deny that you’re a little inwardly delighted that he still checks on you even now.

“we gotta do something to get people excited, this needs to be wilder.” that same gojo hums, sending you a look that seems a little calculating and a dangerous sort of menacing when he taps on his chin with a long finger before he’s grinning.

“what are you smiling about?” suguru drawls, giving gojo a humoured sort of grin that makes him lean back to laugh before he’s falling forward again, shooting you both a teasing look from above the rim of his glasses.

“oh? you scared?” he hums and you feel your best friends arm hook around your shoulder before you’re pulled into his chest, feeling the warm muscle through his shirt when it presses against your side and you hate the way it makes your breathing hitch before suguru speaks again — his lips close enough for you to feel the way his breathing rolls over your shoulders.

“heh, nah. i’m sure we’ll be fine.”

—

but fine wasn’t exactly what you’d call this situation, gojo’s grand plan it seems was a good old game of seven minutes in heaven, and you’d be lying if you said that watching him round up a drunken group of students with the simple words wasn’t amusing.

you’re sinking into the plush (but also grossly soaked with college mysteries) seat of the arm chair in the corner of the living room, while suguru takes his place on one of the thick arms. his thighs are spread at either side of the cushion as he leans against the back to balance his huge stature, knocking his calve against your thigh to pull your attention from the dramatics satoru is pulling in the middle of the room.

“you sure ‘bout this?” he grunts from his place beside you, the question is spoken in earnest and you know that if you ever said you were uncomfortable he’d be pulling you out without a second thought.

but if you were honest, you weren’t sure of this.

infact you hadn’t realised just how tightly your hands had been nervously curling against your thighs for aslong as you’d sat here, because every couple that left the room with hoots and haulers, was one couple less infront of you and suguru — and watching your bestfriend and life-long crush being whisked into a darkened college closet with anyone who wasn’t you for seven minutes of fucking heaven, wasn’t exactly how you’d describe a good night.

“you’re next, sweet thing.” satoru drawls, breaking you out of your own internal spiral just as your turn finally circulates and you don’t notice the way that suguru also seems to tense at the words, shuffling uncomfortably by your side before he’s resting a heavy palm against your shoulder — his means of comfort, you tell yourself.

“spin it for me, please~” you ask, your words a smooth sort of plea and you watch a grin curl the sides of satoru’s lips before his eyes sweep to suguru quickly, a look that goes unnoticed by you from where his crystalline gaze is hidden behind his black, tinted frames.

you feel like you watch the amber of the empty beer bottle spin forever and you feel like you’re just about to climb the walls when it finally begins to slow, your heart rate climbing into a heavy sort of thud against your chest when you openly cringe about some of the possibilities scattered along the room.

but a possibility you don’t consider, was the bottle landing just slightly to your left, shamelessly pointing towards your… bestfriend and crush geto? who’s sending you a curious look from where he’s manspread at the side of your fucking arm chair — like he’s gauging your reaction before allowing himself to reveal his own, and you hate the way you feel hope dangle in the space where you take a breath.

you’ve convinced yourself everything is fine, like you’ll totally be able to resist the absolutely irresistible man you’re about to be trapped in a darkened closet with for seven minutes of fucking heaven, the same guy who you’ve been crushing on for as long as you’ve known him.

“i’m glad it’s just you i got, suguru.” you say nervously as you’re both marched towards your destination, desperately trying to feign like you’re not completely freaking out and this is totally normal.

but then you turn with your words and you don’t miss the way suguru’s biceps twitch slightly with your effort to hide your true feelings, hearing him hum lowly before his shoulders drop with a sigh and his tongue pokes at his cheek, but just as quickly as his irritated expression forms it vanishes.

“yeah, just me..” there’s a change in his tone with his reply, it’s not the usual smooth and soft tone he seemed to reserve for you — it was sharp and honest and… hurt? before the door of the closet is suddenly shutting behind you both and you sway when you look up at geto to realise his eyes are already on you.

you’re so aware of the close proximity between you both and if you weren’t so hellbent on trying not ruin your friendship with geto suguru you’d gladly melt closer, pushing yourself against the soft muscle of his broad chest just so you can feel the way his warmth curls down your spine in blissful waves.

but then you’re suddenly aware of the awkward silence that settles in the darkened room, one that was so unfamiliar you feel a sudden nervousness twist in your abdomen before you finally speak. “i didn’t mean it like that.” you say quickly, suddenly reminding yourself of your previous words and you watch suguru’s shoulders drop again when he exhales.

“is that all you’ll ever see me as?” geto says plainly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats as he casts you a heavy look that you almost mistake for a glare in the dim lighting.

“what does that mean? we’re best friends.” you reply quickly, your hands twisting into the hem of your skirt when you search desperately for the warmth hidden behind suguru’s gaze, noticing that he almost flinches with the title you still speak in earnest — like you’re trying to convince yourself he’s just that, despite the way your bestfriend always seemed to make your heart jump.

“fuck, see that is exactly what i mean.” he grunts and the bite to his tone catches you off guard as you watch him place his large palm across his face, and you feel some form of instinct turn in your stomach before you’re biting back with a tone that’s even colder.

“no, you’re not making any sense, sugu. i’ve known you foreve—“ you hiss and suguru’s volume rises with his breath when he cuts you off just as the final thread of his patience snaps. “and i have loved you for just as long. do you know how many times i’ve seen your heart broken knowing i could treat you better? do you know how annoying that is to watch?”

“and why didn’t you say anything then?” you hiss back, the sudden confession from your bestfriend making your emotions run rampant, ensuing chaos on your train of thought and clouding your judgement when you glare back, not realising he’s taking a step closer.

“would you have listened?” he bickers back and you realise that you both really sound like some old married couple you normally see in the aisle of the supermarkets fighting over fruit.

except maybe not as cute, because suguru clicks his tongue and your heart kicks against your chest with a sharp thud before you’re leaning closer, poking your finger against his chest to emphasis your reply. “yes because if you actually looked at me for one second. you’d know that i’ve thought about the exact same thi—“

the end of your sentence is cut off when suguru’s lips suddenly find your own and his imposing stature is pressing you tight against the door behind you.

the way he kisses you has you reeling, it’s lazy and slow but so very satisfying, and you gasp when he licks into your mouth with an instensity that makes you whimper, feeling his tongue drag messy along your own, and you can’t help but exhale in a reverence before your hands are twisting in his hair to pull him closer.

“do you know how long i’ve waited for you to say that, sweetheart?” suguru grunts when he pulls away to rest his forehead against yours, his soft pants cooling the mixture of spit on your pouty lips while his large hands grab at your hips.

“well i’m saying it now. so kiss me, sugu.” you laugh and there’s a subtle curl to the corners of his lips before he’s on you again, turning your positions to lead you back against the small cabinet hidden in the corner as he moves his lips against your own followed by a content sort of sound.

“shit, sound so fuckin’ pretty when you say that.” suguru hears himself groan before he’s shooting you a softer, tilted grin. he feels like he’s caught in a stand still and when he feels your fingers pull tighter at his hair he feels the last of his resolve snap, his tongue dipping past your lips to glide along your own and he hopes you can feel the years of pining and feelings he buries into the kiss.

“you’re sure about this?” he asks as his hips cage you against the countertop, bunching your skirt up around your hips and you feel heat burst along the new skin he reveals when he squeezes, giving him a soft, keening “y-yes.” in response and you’ve never felt so sure of anything in your life when you breathe heavy with him — fingers tangling in his hair to keep kissing him.

“shit—you don’t know how many times i’ve thought about this, sweetheart.” your thighs wrap around suguru’s hips to squeeze around his middle and you gasp when you feel him roll his cock forward into you. “fucking me in a frat closet?” you giggle before it breaks into a gasp when the blunt head catches under the hood of your clit through your panties and makes your abdomen twitch while suguru smirks down at you. “nah, finally getting to call you mine, pretty girl.”

you can feel his heart thudding against your chest where he’s got it pressed tightly to your breasts, brushing his nose against yours as his shaky breath rolls over your lips and his fingers flex in your skin.

he’s barely touched you and suguru already feels like he’s losing his mind, the way your body feels against his really is like fucking heaven and the doe-eyed look you cast him when he pulls away only reminds him how tightly you have him wrapped around finger.

“you are so fucking beautiful.” he drawls, dark eyes sweeping over your disheveled appearance when he casts you a heavy look from under his lashes before his lips are trailing down your skin — smearing messy kisses along your jawline.

you feel him growl, low and rugged while his teeth nibble along the sensitive spots that have your head dropping back to moan when he rolls the delicate skin gently between his teeth, smoothing his tongue over the blooming marks after, and the deep throb of desire you feel in your gut almost drowns out how loud the bass that still echoes through the closet from the other side of the door is.

you whimper, words spoken dreamily like a half-drunken mantra and fuck—were you intoxicating, suguru thinks.

the way you smooth your fingers through his dark hair before you’re pulling at the roots—making his bun fall into a messier style as it begins to frame his flushed features with an unruly but charming effect, and he pulls away to cast you a look that reminds you just how pretty he looks when he’s a little wild, a little needy.

it feels like there’s a fire in the darkened closet that almost consumes you both, and you feel like you’re losing yourselves in the fiery, lustful spark but you can’t stop, you’d rather beg to continue — to burn longer, together as you both plead for the carnal release you crave.

you feel suguru’s head dip to kiss along your collarbones, tracing his lips along the low neckline of your shirt, and the catch of his soft lips on your skin makes your thighs squeeze around his hips before he’s groaning. breathing heavy and eager when his fingers climb the seams of your body to flick the thin straps off your shoulders, letting him pull and tuck your shirt under your tits.

one of his hands move quickly under your bra, pulling it down to grab a slow, languid handful of your breast while his calloused thumb swipes back and forth over the firmed, pointed bud. the way you moan for him has his cock twitching in his pants, heavy and throbbing as you arch into his touch with warm need before he leans down, messily tracing his tongue along the same trail his thumb created moments ago.

suguru suckles languidly, dragging his tongue in slow, agonising, mindless patterns across the sensitive, aching skin of your nipples and he feels like he could watch you like this forever. his awe of you feels like it burns you as the unruly, charming fall of his hair lies across his cheeks.

“holy shit, sweetheart. look at you.” he mumbles against your tits, continuing his lewd, messy movements as his own spit coats his cheeks—soft pants cooling where it lies along your skin while his other hand trails its way up the inside of your thighs to pull your panties to the side.

you feel the first swipe of his fingers pet along your glistening folds as he traces the rough pad to part the petals of your pussy—gathering your slick before he’s smearing it under the hood of your clit and rolling the puffy bud with two fingers as your voice echoes through the walls of the darkened closet. “i want you, sugu—ah!”

suguru peers up at you through heavy eyes before his fingers are sinking into you, they’re thick enough for you to hiss at the stretch but he’s already making the whole fucking room tremble when he presses them up into you, grazing them along the swollen spot inside of you until your eyes feel like they’re rolling back towards the ceiling.

“always known you better than anyone else—fuck, know exactly what you need, angel.” his fingers drag more of your slick out everytime they sink into you and it’s lewd, the loud squelching sounds that you’re convinced he’s determined to engrave into the walls with every twist of his wrist.

it was true that suguru knew you better than anyone, even now — when he’s languidly pumping his fingers in and out of your wet heat, using his thumb to roll your clit as he brushes against the spongy spot inside of you with a precision that’s almost scary considering this is the first time he’s touched you.

you’re whimpering and rolling your shoulders already, and you hope that the heavy bass that’s echoing through the frat is loud enough to drown out the way you’re crying out for him when your lips tremble, and he pushes his fingers deeper, feeling your walls twitch and squeeze around him at the new pace as he grins at you.

“see, sweetheart. gonna take such good care of you.” suguru drawls, scissoring his fingers inside of you and he fucking loves the way you’re grinding into his touch with needy little humps, brushing your clit harder against his thumb as your warm walls pulse around his digits, sucking him back in everytime he draws them out.

you’ve never been so sure of anyone in your life, he always treats you like you were made of glass and maybe he truly was your other half. but this was new territory, a new lesson and he wants nothing more than to burn your pleasure to memory, the way your brows fall in bliss or the way your lips part to moan.

geto suguru knows everything about you; from how you look when you lie, to your tells when you’re about to cry, so maybe that’s why you feel your orgasm tingle and burn along your skin almost embarrassingly quickly, because he could tell that the way youre twisting your hands in his shirt and whining so prettily for him was truth because he knows you.

your thighs quiver around the width of his huge stature when he works your body with smooth but intense precision, the heated desire that’d been twisting in your stomach finally snapping with the first too-much touch of his fingers. the way you’re crying out for him is addictive, your bestfriend, who’s kissing you dizzy once more as your pussy throbs around him, hips rocking back and forth as you hiccup and mewl and he greedily swallows up the sounds.

“c-can’t get enough of you, pretty.” suguru pants before he’s kissing you again, words raspy and muffled when he draws his fingers back to scoop his heavy, throbbing cock out of his pants, sighing at the sudden sexual freedom when it springs free. he feels the cool air roll over the sensitive glands as it smears pre-cum along the skin of your thighs, and he sucks on your bottom lip before he pulls away.

his fingers wrap around the thick base before he’s giving it a few rough strokes of his hand, grunting when it throbs against his palm and he’s pulling his shirt between his teeth to let the fabric pool above his thick chest. he taps the blunt head teasingly against your clit, sending you a grin that’s a little cheeky as much as it is sweet when you twitch in the remnants of your tingling pleasure.

“you gonna take all of it, sweetheart?” you hear suguru’s question drop to a growl when he rests his heavy cock along your pelvis, giving you a taste of how deep he’s going to reach inside of you.

the deep throb of want with the sudden realisation has your breath catching before you’re leaning back, sliding your fingers between your folds to spread them lewdly like a silent plea. the action pulling a long, hum of amused approval from your bestfriend before his large palm is keeping you pinned to the counter beneath him, and his lips are curling into a smirk.

“fuck, that’s my girl.” he drawls, squeezing playfully at your sides with his fingers but it’s just enough to have you both laughing together before he lines himself up, letting his cock part it’s way through your folds to find the entrance of your flexing cunt.

you watch the way suguru’s lips part to groan before his head is falling forward to rest his forehead against yours, the dark ends of his hair tracing featherlight touches along your cheeks as he finally pushes past your folds. you feel his large hands squeeze at your hips when he finally begins to sink into your warm cunt, breathing deep as he drags you along the thick spread of his cock, and it feels like he sinks into you forever —your walls flexing around him the deeper he goes.

“oh fuck—look how well you take me, sweetheart.” he grunts, lavishing and indulging in the way your body feels like it was fucking made for him, his eager hands stroking down the curve of your hips before they’re flexing almost too tight in the skin when he finally bottoms out with a pleased hiss.

suguru’s broad chest expands with a deep inhale before he moans, drawing his hips back until only the head is left inside of your twitching pussy before he’s sinking back into you, and it feels like he reaches even deeper this time. the thick spread of his cock feels like it punches the air out of your lungs when he begins a steady pace, and the needy push and pull of your cunt rewards each heavy thrust with a twitch around his cock that has him groaning deep.

“really been made for me all these years. fuckin’ k-knew it.” there’s a carnal drop in his tone now that he’s finally buried in you, now that you’ve given your all to him and he’s drinking it up so eagerly, like he wants to be glued to you for eternity, to eat, drink, breathe your pussy and your pleasure in every lifetime after this one.

“feels so good, suguru—fuck!” you gasp and suguru can’t help but think that his name has never sounded better than when its breathed from your lips in whispery bliss.

the force of his hips pick up as his grip on your skin tightens, the loud and clapping force of his thrusts echoing through the walls of the darkened closet, feeling him melt into you as you drag your nails along the skin of his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

“yeah? fuck, y-you like that? sound so sweet for me.” suguru grumbles, an air of playfulness to his tone with the way he exhales a crooning sort of chuckle. but his movements are becoming sloppier despite the way the strength behind them remains, he feels like he’s losing himself in the dizzy spin of the room, the way your body is clapping against his and the hug of your warm walls around his cock.

you can hear the way the old countertop beneath you is banging against the wall in time with the rhythm of his hips, and you’re pretty sure whatever frat’s keep stored in cabinets hidden in dark closets is clattering around inside also. but suguru’s got you feeling mindless, and you can’t bring yourself to care about anything except how fucking good you feel when his cock brushes against your swollen spots with ease, fucking every thought out of your mind that isn’t him.

“shit, let me feel you sweetheart.” suguru breathes ragged as he hugs you closer, pounding away at the spot that has a pleasurable warmth pooling in your abdomen and you feel his huge stature tremble when he curls over you.

“so pretty.” is spoken against your skin when he rests his face in the crook of your neck and the praise feels like it drips down your body as he smears messy, wet kisses along your shoulder — bathing you in confessions that make your limbs feel weightless.

the blunt head of his cock feels like it kisses every part of you when he hooks your thigh higher around his waist, following it with a particularly sharp roll of his hips as his trimmed pelvis grinds against your puffy clit. you can almost feel the way he’s thickening and throbbing in time with the needy coax of your cunt, the grip he has on you almost bruising as you cry out into the darkened closet, your hips trembling and pulling a drunken laugh from your bestfriend before his eyes close for a moment in pleasure of his own.

suguru’s sharp eyes cut down into you with the first jolt of your body, the coiling, tight heat in your stomach finally snapping as your hands move to twist tightly in the dark roots of his hair, making you gasp and jolt with the familiar rush of your second orgasm finally washing over you, and it feels even more intoxicating than the last.

“fuck, there w-we go, sweetheart. love you like this, shit—i love you.” your dark haired bestfriend groans with the first milking compression of your walls, pulling back only to pull you in for another feverish kiss, lewd whimpers of how tight you are mixing with more hormone-drunken, slurred confessions as your cunt continues to squeeze him and he gives more to you than he has anyone before.

“i love you too, sugu—“ you breathe and your whispery, drawl is all it takes for suguru to finally spill into you with a sharp grunt as your cunt milks him, swallowing your moans with deeper ones of his own as he kisses you dumb with low growls and babbled curses hissed between your lips.

his thrusts are shallow as he fucks his thick load into you, pushing a mixture of both your orgasms out the tight seal of your walls everytime his cock sinks back into you with a lewd, wet sound. his movements only cease when you’re both hissing from sensitivity and he’s holding himself above you, pressing warm kisses along your lips and cheeks as you both bask in the drowsy, warm moments following your orgasms before the silence settles.

“so you were right here all along?” you break the silence with a laugh, and you feel suguru straighten up over you before he’s sending you a smile that’s pink cheeked, but just as gentle and comforting as always. so when you inhale, you don’t hold your breath because you exhale just fine at the warmth you still feel in his gaze.

“yeah, told you didn’t i. for now and for always, sweetheart.” he promises and you smile before you’re elbowing him playfully “stop that, you’re so cheesy, sugu!” you smile and suguru chuckles before he’s speaking “i love you.” out loud instead of whispering it and kissing you again. he hopes you notice that his tone doesn’t waver, his words laid on the line, bare and honest and hoping you know he means it from this lifetime until the next.

the way he touches you after is gentle, both souls stripped bare for eachother and it would almost be romantic if you still weren’t stuck in some dingy frat house closet. but just as suguru curls you against his chest you feel a familiar drone sound from the other side of the closet, led lights and the stuffy atmosphere seeping into the room when the door cracks open and satoru is sending you both a narrowed, playful smirk that’s a little too observant for your liking.

“oh? arent you two sweet. was countin’ on ya to finally get together, utahime owes me for this.”

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