#all I remember was that water was the nature one and air was a gremlin with earth as the enabler

[argentum-fae]

Some redraws from 2015-ish

[unboundtravels]

𝗙𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗱.

( five times the receiver watched the sender while they were working or doing something ) [jinju & goth] @rimefiles

𝟏) 𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝.

A whooshing and groaning cannot be heard over the blaring of the music echoing across a concert hall. A packed venue for an Idol group known as Rogue suppresses the sound of the Police Box materializing within the rafters of the concert hall. The door swings open, and what can only be described as a vagrant exits the box. Wearing a black cotton coat that cuts at the knees, over a darker red jacket and a black sweatshirt— as well as black jeans and lace-up boots, The Doctor steps out. Holding his Sonic Screwdriver in his hand, the red light on the end makes a steady and rhythmic beeping. He seems disgruntled by whatever it is he's tracking as he shuts the police box doors behind them, the click echoing out to confirm to him the doors are locked. 

"This is the last time I chase Mogwai... who even keeps Mogwai in their shop?" He mumbles, tracking life signatures as he crosses the rafters above the stage. Wreathed in shadow, save for the beeping of his screwdriver, The Doctor continues mumbling— "Oh yeah, let me sell you a pet troll, but remember— don't water it! And no snacks after midnight—" A rattling above him causes him to shut his mouth immediately as he takes his hand off the activation button, his screwdriver turning off. "Sounds like that might be my guy—" He starts trying to get his eyes onto anything he can see before his eyes look down at the stage. His head tilts softly when he sees the performers down on the stage.

His eyes gravitated toward the one in pink, naturally. Ruby eyes blink softly at her, momentarily captured by the singing and the choreography of the performers before suddenly a snapping causes his head to snap up. There, in the rafters, is a Gremlin— who's just snapped a stage light. The Doctor watches it fall and crash onto the stage. The music stops, and there's screaming. He can hear security rushing their way up to the rafters. He exhales, watching the Mogwai scuttle up into a nearby vent,

Great. Just great​​​​​​.

2) 𝐹𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑦 𝑚𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒.

Well, that was an embarrassing Tuesday— but! He had managed to capture all the Mogwai, returning them to their rightful habitat somewhere deep and far away in space. Now, he was back in the 18th century. A meteor had fallen through time and crashed somewhere in... 

He stopped, standing outside of the box. A village somewhere in the middle of a bamboo forest? That could be anywhere! He hummed, shutting the Police Box behind him. Bouncing from a 21st-century Idol concert to an 18th-century fishing village was probably a culture shock to some, but he seemed unphased by the rapidly shifting environments. Questions about the environment had led him up into the mountains, where sources say the meteor had crashed. It was a long walk! He liked the fresh air, though. He hummed, rather quietly as he finally reached the peak of the mountain. 

There was a well at the peak of the mountain, and The Doctor had found himself distracted by a woman— sitting by the well. He blinked, tilting his head. Wasn't that the... woman from the Idol band? She looked up toward him, which prompted him to quickly hide behind something. He didn't think she'd seen him, but even then— something loud in the forest seemed to scare her off. 

Something to do with his meteor, perhaps?

3) 𝑽𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒆𝒅.

Not a meteor. Sontarans. Once again, trying to interfere with the course of human history. It was annoying to deal with those potato heads. The Police Box had parked on the corner of a street, back on Earth. After encountering a strange woman twice, in two different periods, he'd felt something drawing him toward a music shop. What was the year? 2030? 2035? He hadn't kept much track. The phones were slimmer, from what he could tell. That seemed annoying. Also, they do a lot of holograms, now. There seemed to be one outside the music shop he was walking to. His eyes found a sign.

Record signing? Real Rogue holograms? Rogue? Like from that comic book—

He looked past the crowd, seeing the hologram members. His eyebrows squeezed tightly in confusion. Rogue? Wait a second! That's the IDOL group with that pink-haired lady in it! Really?! That's three times! In the same week! That's gotta be a record. He's finding himself getting more and more frustrated. The store's gonna be CROWDED! How's he supposed to do his research now? It's okay— It's okay.

He'll just come back last week.

4) 𝒀𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒌𝒊𝒅𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈.

So he had wanted to come back to the music store on Wednesday like he'd said— try and grab it in that same-day window (really, time travel is super convenient) but he'd picked up a distress signal from the moons of Alpha Meeson, and well— he'd gotten distracted helping out an old friend. Turns out Slitheen was trying to scam the inhabitants of the Meeson Moon out of their land. It was a whole ordeal, one he didn't want to think about. So! Thursday. A week before Rogue's record signing event. 

The Police Box clicks open, and The Doctor heads toward the shop after locking her up. This time, he can tell! No crowds! Just a woman wearing casual clothing, accompanied by some business-looking people— she's wearing a ball cap, but pink strands peak out— Hey wait a second!!! 

"Are you kidding me?" He cursed quietly, from afar. "She's the one that booked the venue? Don't they have an agent? Good lord. Talk about being a go-getter." He mumbled under his breath. That's it! He's gotta talk to this woman! But not now, she's busy. You never interrupt a woman while she's working. That much he knows. He's just gonna try to take the most inconspicuous scan of her temporal signature from afar— and hope nobody saw that little red light from under his sleeve. "Creepiest thing I've ever done, for sure." The Doctor mumbled on his way back to the TARDIS, as he checked the readings on his screwdriver. 

In the TARDIS, he clicked various switches and thanks to the reading of that pink-haired lady's temporal signature— he can see here that on Friday night, she'll go to a private lounge. Great! Perfect time. Just... stroll up to her at the bar... how hard can it be?

5) 𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈.

Psychic paper helps him get into a whole lot of places. Health and safety is a good excuse, he finds, to help him get into places. However, he's gotta keep his mind sharp. He enters the lounge. It's like one of those 1920 speakeasies. Or... maybe it is a 1920s speakeasy. The TARDIS isn't a reliable machine, as much as she is his home and his life— maybe he scanned a Friday night from some weird era. Whatever it was, he was inside now— and right there... at the bar. 

He gets suspicious about fate. Whenever it brings him to someone, he feels like the universe is about to put him through hell. However, his curiosity's just too damn loud to not approach her. He exhales. All he's gotta do is say something... smooth... right? Socializing. Humans do it all the time. He just approaches the bar, sits next to the pink woman he's accidentally been following through time, and—

"You're immortal, aren't you?"

Nailed it.

[barbenheimer-core]

AUDERE EST FACERE !

하나. chanel : part two — 1.7k words

TURN.

The lights in the shop lowered in their intensity, and Ahyeong gasped, drawing in heavy breaths of air as her limbs finally moved of her own accord, bending low to clutch her knees and balance herself when she slightly stumbled.

"Are you okay?" Wangja the Shop Owner asked, concerned about the sudden change in demeanor.

"I,"— Ahyeong found herself at a loss for words, what was happening to her?— "I don't know."

An abnormal lucid dream, she thought, that was what she was experiencing. One in which she was aware of her made-up fantasy world but couldn't control her speech and actions at times.

It was like the dream itself had a script of its own.

Huh. Maybe that was it. She just had to follow the script.

"Umm... I think I should get going," she mumbled, hoping her hunch was right.

Wangja looked a bit disappointed that he couldn't carry on the conversation, but nodded in agreement. The sleek black car outside that he had spotted while coming in was probably her driver waiting on her.

Suho was still coughing on their way out, and upon the two shooting concerned looks at him he merely ignored them, gaining his composure and zooming past them and into the dimly lit night in his mildly flustered state.

As Ahyeong stepped into the cold night air, she saw her family's personal car, finding Driver Kwon sitting in front of the wheel through the tinted windows.

Her family and acquaintances must be the same as before then.

"Well, do come by often," Wangja said, handing her the copy of Shiver that she had been sifting through previously, and when Ahyeong looked at him confusedly, he winked, "as an insurance that you do visit, I'm letting you borrow it. Remember, the shop's policy only lets you borrow items for two weeks. Any more and you'll have to compensate."

The girl tucked the comic under her elbow, amused at his antics as if she'd known him for a long time, and said without thinking, "Does ramyeon work as compensation?"

The shop owner grinned, "Aye, you know me so well. Now go. Your driver is giving me the creeps with his glare."

Ahyeong chuckled at that. Driver Kwon was rather overprotective over the Song siblings and got suspicious of anyone who got within six feet of them, even the people the two kids had explicitly stated were their friends.

Bidding Wangja goodbye, Ahyeong slipped into the leather seats of the car, fastening the seatbelt around herself as was the clearly stated rule by the person in front of her who turned the key as soon as she got in, revving the engine before taking off into the night and to, presumably, her home.

Ahyeong paused at the front door, looking at the front lawn with puzzled eyes.

Why did it look even more extravagant than it was on a usual day?

The flowers were in full bloom despite spring having passed months ago, the garden lights were still switched on, illuminating the finely-trimmed shrubs and foliage, and the cars were displayed out in the open instead of being in the garage.

It was as if someone was trying to make a drawing of a picturesque rich household, perfect in every aspect with next to no flaws in its design.

The mahogany doors opened abruptly, halting her thoughts, and the housemaid, Eunjung, hurriedly ushered her in, putting slippers in front of the girl's feet as she toed her shoes off.

"Why were you out so late? It's past curfew. Thank goodness Mrs. Song hasn't returned from work yet, or you would've been in trouble," she fussed.

Trouble with her mother? That was odd. That never happened because Ahyeong usually informed Eunjung of where she was going, and her mother didn't really mind if she was out past curfew as long as she had alerted someone of coming in late.

"I'll prepare your dinner while you wash up. Do you want to eat at the table or should I bring it to your room upstairs?"

"My room, if it's not too much trouble."

Eunjung waved her hands, dismissing her, and scurried off to the kitchen while Ahyeong headed up the stairs to the West Wing of the house where her bedroom resided.

Contrary to what she thought, her room had not been what she expected.

It was littered with cardboard boxes and suitcases, most of them unpacked and organized but there still being enough to do that the floor looked messy.

Ahyeong remembered her involuntary words back at Prince Comics.

So her family moved to Seoul in this dream?

From where though? She's never lived anywhere else other than this city.

Oh well, too bad. There was no use dwelling on it. Her dream would end as soon as she would go to sleep and wake up anyway.

But her nagging mind urged her to clean her room up, and despite knowing that her efforts may be in vain she obliged, and by the end of the hour, her room looked just as it had been in real life.

Setting her towel by the bathroom rack to dry, Ahyeong sat down in front of her desk in her pajamas, where the maid had spread out a variety of steaming dishes on fine china while she had been tidying up.

Leave it to Eunjung to make mouth-watering food for any time of the day.

Just as she raised her spoon to eat the seaweed soup, her door swung open.

Gilyeong stood by the threshold, racing to her and shoving his phone in her face, a rather horrible picture of a mangled body on its screen.

"What the-" Ahyeong dropped her utensils with a clang, pushing the device away from her face with a disgusted expression and glaring at her brother, who giggled mischievously, "I'm trying to eat, you gremlin. Don't make me lose my appetite."

"It's payback for the time you showed me a clip of a gutted person when I was trying to eat pat-bingsu. Now get a taste of your own medicine, grinch," Gilyeong laughed evilly, shoving his phone into Ahyeong's eyesight as she tried to stop him from ruining her eyes in front of her food.

Even in dreams, her brother was as nasty as they came.

"You evil little-" Ahyeong wrestled the phone out of his hands, making the younger Song frown and whine at her to give it back to him, and got an idea as she glanced at the shelf on top of her desk.

"If you promise to behave yourself this week, I'll let you borrow that," she said, pointing at the Junji Ito comic that Wangja had let her borrow.

Gilyeong looked up, and his eyes glimmered in anticipation as he jumped up to grab it from the shelf.

"Woah, where did you get this from?" He exclaimed as he started to peruse the pages, "It was out of stock in every bookstore I dragged you to."

"I got it from a hippie who starred in a drama," she smirked at her brother's puzzled face , "so, do we have a deal?"

She raised her hands as she said so.

Her brother looked up at her suspiciously, eyes narrowed in contemplation, then nodded briefly, "deal."

He raised his palms, meeting Ahyeong's halfway as they did their Handshake of Temporary Truce.

Yes, they had different handshakes for a whole list of situations.

"But you still have to pay up for your flinches from yesterday and now," he drawled while walking out of her room.

Wait, yesterday?

"What do you mean the flinch from yesterday?"

Gilyeong stopped midway and turned around, confused.

"Don't tell me you've been getting amnesia too. We were at the restaurant yesterday with Mum and Dad's investors, remember?"

With that ominous comment, he stepped out, shutting the door behind him.

Sunlight peeked through the half-open blinds, beaming on Ahyeong's face as she woke up and looked around her room, same as ever.

What a crazy dream.

She remembered it as clear as day.

But it was over and done with, and she was in reality now.

For a moment she pondered how she had gotten into her bed, but then trashed the thought. One of her parents had probably carried her here when she had fallen into a deep sleep in the lobby of the restaurant.

She got up, picking up her phone to look at the day and time.

It was around 8 on a Sunday morning, and Ahyeong yawned, kicking off her blanket to freshen up. She woke up too early for a weekend.

Deciding to explore the city for the day, she changed into a button-up and denim trousers, picking up a set of Doc Martens on her way out for breakfast.

"What's new this mornin', gremlin," she greeted Gilyeong while running down the stairs, who sat by the couch reading something, its cover blocked out of her eyesight.

She slightly tripped on the last two steps and hit her knee on the railing, hissing in pain and lightly hopping towards the dining table.

"Good morning, Eunjung-ssi," Ahyeong smiled through her discomfort at the maid, in complete contrast to the way she greeted her brother, and he scowled at her from his spot but didn't say anything.

Eunjung rolled her eyes in good nature at the sibling's antics, all too used to it, "Good morning to you too."

She set down two servings of rice, soup, and a variety of side dishes for breakfast, and the siblings came to sit at the dining table.

As Ahyeong scooped up a spoonful of rice, she saw Gilyeong putting down his book, finally spotting its cover.

She paused.

"Hey, dongsaeng, how did you get that?" She said as she pointed at the copy of Shiver.

The young Song stopped eating, pointing a fake grin at her.

"From the grinch who got it from a hippie who starred in a drama."

This was not a dream.

masterlist

© 2021 Alfia Sheikh, All Rights Reserved

[kindahoping4forever]

Watch Me Bloom: A Few Weeks Ago // Ashton Irwin

Thanks to everyone who read, shared and/or sent a kind word about A Few Months Ago. I’ve never divided up a fic like this before so it’s been both exciting and nerve-wracking, but I’m so pleased to see the response! 

The concept for this section came about early on but I revised and retooled it a lot so again, many thank yous to @cal-puddies​​ for the constant (and I mean constant) encouragement, reassurance and support that I require when writing, I know I was especially needy about this one. 😂 Also shout out to @ashtonangst​​ for the last minute notes and vote of confidence on the final revision.

No thanks to Ashton Irwin for distracting me, stealing my thunder and generally being a Gremlin TWICE IN ONE DAY. He’s the worst and I love him 😌

Warnings: Boyfriend!Ash featuring the slightest hint of angst, unprotected sex within an established relationship, shower sex, mirror sex, playful spanking, wow there’s really not a graceful euphemism for tit fucking is there? Well there’s elements of that as well as oral sex performed on a male and brief cum play. But like. All in a soft, fluffy context lmao

Word Count: 3390

Watch Me Bloom Masterlist

Masterlist // Taglist // Ko-Fi

Let  me  know  what  you  think!

You exhale loudly as you shut your laptop and reach for your phone. You’d arranged to take the morning off, wanting to be with Ashton when news of his album broke online, to watch the chaos unfold, to enjoy seeing him take in all the love and excitement you knew he deserved.

You were grateful to be working from home but it’s often difficult to get away and unfortunately, you woke up to calls about a work emergency, resulting in an unavoidable Zoom meeting that dominated your morning. Ash was understanding but you couldn’t help how disappointed you were.

You scroll through the messages from him, smiling at the liberal use of exclamation points and bizarre choice of emojis used to convey his excitement about the screenshots and links he’d sent you. He’s already getting press and the fans are losing their minds at every new piece of information. You’re thrilled for him but can’t shake how defeated you feel that you weren’t able to be there to experience it all firsthand.

You consider heading downstairs to check in but you note he’s probably getting ready to post his official announcement by now. Not wanting to disturb him, you instead decide to head for the bathroom, thinking a hot shower might improve your mood. You stop to answer one last text, reassuring him that (save for the spelling errors you corrected), the draft of his post is excellent and the fans will be ecstatic to hear him confirm the news.

You step under the rainfall shower head and stand still, letting the hot water run over your body, feeling your shoulders drop and your muscles relax. You close your eyes, enjoying the chance to shut off your brain after a morning of feeling so many varied emotions.

After a few minutes, you begin your routine and you’ve just finished with your body scrub when you hear footsteps shuffling through the doorway; you turn to see Ashton observing you through the glass shower walls. “Well, hi,” he greets you, tone flirty as his gaze flickers up and down your wet, naked body.

You can’t help but feel your mood brighten at his presence. “Hi,” you match his inflection, laughing. “All posted? Officially in business?”

Even through the slight steam you can see the pride on his face. “Officially,” he beams.

“Excellent,” you smile back. You turn away momentarily to return the sprayer to its mount and chuckle when you hear the shower door. Within seconds, Ash is naked behind you, slinking his arms around your waist and fitting his face into the crook of your neck, swaying with you as he presses quick kisses into your neck. .

“Just announced your very own album and yet you’re still gonna act like finding your girlfriend in the shower is the most exciting thing to happen to you today?” You tease, leaning back against him.

He laughs as he sucks your earlobe into his mouth. “Even in the big moments, gotta take the time to appreciate the everyday ones,” he murmurs, biting gently.

You squeeze his hands as they rest on your hips. “Well, speaking of big moments, I still feel bad that I missed out on this morning, Ash,” you softly admit.

"Baby, it couldn’t be helped," he says nonchalantly, sweetly kissing your cheek before spinning you around to face him.

You’re not quite ready to meet his eyes, so you play with the chain around his neck as you choose your words. “I know, but… you’ve really made an effort with some of the stuff we talked about, like coming to bed with me or having dinner together. So I kind of feel like I’m not showing you the same courtesy - and for something so much more monumental,” you point out.

“Sweetheart, your work isn’t any less important than mine,” he frowns, brushing your wet hair off your face. “I know you wanted to be there and that means a lot, I don’t feel slighted at all, I promise.”

Ashton cups your face and kisses you sincerely. When you pull away, you rest your head on his shoulder; he pecks the top of your head and then reaches for the shampoo. You smile to yourself as you feel him begin to apply it to your hair. He gently taps you and you loudly smooch his shoulder before lifting your head and turning your back to him once again. He works the shampoo into a lather, applying just the right amount of pressure with his fingertips to give you a relaxing scalp massage.

There’s a cozy tranquility in the air as he grabs the handheld sprayer and rinses your hair out, cutely shielding your eyes when he comes close to your face, having learned from past showers gone wrong. Next he applies your conditioner and while it sets, you have him lean closer to you so you can wash his hair. It’s the longest and curliest it’s been since you’ve known him and you truly can’t get enough of it.

You can hear the smile in his voice when he breaks the silence to say, “You know, it’s pretty sexy that you’re so good at your job the whole company was ready to fall apart just because you wanted the morning off."

“Yes, that’s exactly what happened. I’m so glad you’re not threatened by my #GirlBoss nature,” you giggle. You scratch your nails over his scalp as you finish lathering his hair and the resulting groan has you absentmindedly biting your lip.

“Never! Plus it means less work for me,” he jokes, yelping as you tug on his hair in response.

You finish up with each other’s hair, chatting and joking easily. When you’re done, you burrow into his chest again and he hugs you tight against him. “You OK, love?” He asks.

“Yeah, just enjoying being close to you on your special day,” you answer softly, smiling as you trace the trail of water droplets running down his chest. “Wanna have something for us to remember it by, this is a nice start. Maybe I’ll order us something good for lunch, set up a fancy backyard picnic.” You lightly kiss along his collarbones as you think out loud.

Ash smiles, running his hands up and down your sides. “Sounds nice… we could also make a few memories in here.” He wiggles his eyebrows as his hands detour to grab your ass and pull you closer to him. “Feel like celebratin’, baby?”

You grin. “Ah, in a year where you’ve already gotten ‘new album sex’ and Jesus, how many rounds of ‘new single sex,’ you’re still playing that card?” You tease, voice wavering because his hands have wandered to your breasts to roll your nipples just the way you like. “Seems pretty greedy to me.”

He responds with a low, smug laugh in your ear, "Can't help it if I'm prolific, sweetheart.”  

“Well, I am happy to see you so frequently inspired," you tease, hand dropping to give his cock a firm squeeze as you proudly bat your eyes at your innuendo.

He smiles, pulling you in; it'd be sweet if there wasn’t such a devilish look in his eye. He gives you a lengthy and lusty kiss, hands roaming over your body, groaning as you work him to hardness. “Feeling pretty inspired to take you like this.”

He’s barely finished his sentence when he turns you around towards the shower door. You give a satisfied hum as you put your hands out to brace yourself and instinctively spread for him. “Aww, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. You shiver as he traces his fingertips all the way down your spine, starting at your neck and working his way down; once he reaches your ass, he uses both hands to cup it, squeezing and massaging.

You sigh and arch your back, jutting your hips out, wanting him to continue; a loud open palm smack lands across one of your ass cheeks and though you expected it, a half-gasp, half-moan escapes your lips.

He leans in to whisper in your ear, cock brushing against you. “Thought I was the greedy one here,” he teases, delivering a strike to your untouched cheek, followed by a pair of rough slaps to each side. Your whines reverberate through the bathroom while his mouth lavishes kisses along your shoulders, hands soothing the reddened skin of your backside.

His hands wander between your legs but you stop him, murmuring, “Don’t need it, want you enough already.”

Ash sweetly kisses behind your ear before pushing inside you at an agonizingly slow pace. When he's made it all the way in, without thinking, you breathe out, “Yes, finally,” which earns you another quick spank. You giggle, catching sight of his amusingly annoyed reflection in the mirror above the counter across from you.

He playfully nips your shoulder and thrusts into you. As he picks up speed, he notices you biting back a moan. He growls, “Uh-uh, let me hear you, baby, wanna know how good my cock feels inside you.”

You rock back against him, hoping it’ll earn you another swat and when it does, you whimper loudly. “Feels so fucking good, Ash,” you enthuse. Keeping your balance against the door with one hand, you straighten up to reach behind you and pull him in; he understands, movements slowing as he kisses you hungrily. You tangle your hand in his hair, giving it a tug and he grunts into your mouth.

One of his hands travels to briskly begin rubbing your clit; the pressure is like a jolt of electricity through your body and your hand drops from his hair back to the shower door to steady yourself. “Careful, love,” he rasps, other hand pawing at your breasts.

Nuzzled into him, you stay in that position for a few moments and he moves against you, occasionally pressing his lips to your face. You catch sight of the mirror again and become fixated on watching him as he carefully works your body: the way his hands work in perfect coordination to please you, how his hair falls in his face as he drives his cock into you, how his eyes screw shut and he fusses his lip between his teeth at the sensations of having your pussy wrapped around him.

It fascinates you to see the two of you like that, so loving but also driven by what seems to be a desperate need.  “Look at that,” you pant, stroking his forearm to get his attention. “Look how well we fit together… I didn't realize it'd look as good as it feels, babe.”

Ashton groans as he studies your reflection. “What a fuckin’ gorgeous sight we are,” he agrees, voice gravelly with lust. “You always look so unbelievable when I watch you take me, baby.”

You moan at how wrecked he sounds, how wrecked you look, the eroticism of your encounter overwhelming you. “I love seeing us like this, Ash… Fuck… Wish I could actually see it, see myself taking your cock,” you babble. “Might have to finally make that tape like we’ve talked about.”

“Fuckin’ hell, baby,” he whispers, fingers digging into your skin. You spread your arms further apart on the door and he smoothly sweeps them behind you, locking them into place with his. Restrained, with nothing to brace you, your front leans completely up against the door and you watch as your tits obscenely bounce off the glass as he speeds up, pounding into you.

You start breathing heavily and he smiles to himself, knowing he’s got you figured out. “Should I be nice and let go so you can touch yourself, baby? Or would that ruin it, since me holding you like this is what’s getting you off?” He taunts, grip on your arms tightening.

“So fuckin’ close… Ash… please… fuck, please,” you murmur, unable to take your eyes off the mirror, feeling yourself slowly tense as you watch him manhandle you, seeing yourself so debauched.

Ashton shifts your arms, pinning them back with just one of his, leaving his other free to roam down the front of your body. “Because you said ‘please’,” he smirks, rubbing fast around your clit. You whimper in relief and your head starts to drop down but he nudges it with his own. “Nah, baby, watch. Want you to see how beautiful you are when you cum for me.”

“Ashhhhh… babyyyyy… fuuuucck…” Your words come out in staccato sighs as you bounce between his body and the glass; his fingers are steady on your clit and his voice lowly encourages you, telling you how amazing you are, how much he wants to feel you cum. He sounds like he needs this as much as you do. You zone out a little as you pulse around him, watching yourself orgasm through the glass, and as always, it’s his soothing whispers of “so pretty, baby” that bring you back to earth.

He gently sets your arms back on the door, pressing soft kisses over your shoulders as you come down. His hips have completely stilled, waiting to see how much more you’re capable of handling. “You good, love?” He sweetly asks, studying your face in the mirror.

"I'm so glad I had to work today," you joke breathlessly. He snorts and bites at your neck.

You feel spent but a thought popped into your head while watching your reflection and you want to explore. “Up for trying something?” You eagerly ask.

“Of course,” he agrees curiously. You push off the door, allowing him to slip out of you and you turn towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I know I gave you shit earlier but it really does make me happy that this is how you like to celebrate,” you start, pecking along his neck and jaw, landing at his lips, which you kiss softly. “And I just want you to know I really am so so proud of you.”

Ash’s arms wrap around your waist and he smiles brightly. “I know, baby. And I’m so grateful to have you with me. Every step of the way, you were there to take care of me.”

You kiss him harder, filthier and needier than you did before and his resulting groan tells you he’s caught off guard. You feel him shiver under your touch as you ghost over his nipples before stopping at his new rib tattoo on your way to his abs and then finally gripping his cock.

“Well, I am absolutely going to take care of you right now,” you wink, dropping to your knees in front of him. He laughs at your questionable joke but quickly sucks in a sharp breath when you begin placing wet kisses along his shaft, whimpering as you taste yourself on him. You trace your tongue along the underside of his cock and circle the head for a bit before you wrap your lips around it and gently apply suction. You hear him huff a few times as you keep your attention focused there instead of taking him further into your mouth and you smile at his impatience.

He catches your look and shoots one right back at you. “Thought you were gonna take care of me, not torture me,” he smiles.

You let him drop from your lips and firmly tug as you look up, grinning. “I have a feeling when you're cumming all over me, you'll think it was worth the wait.”

He’s only able to gasp in response because as soon as the last word of your sentence leaves your mouth, you’re taking him as far down as you can. His hands are instantly in your hair, not quite pushing you down but gently applying pressure as you stay unmoving for a beat, holding him in your mouth, enjoying the heavy feeling of his cock on your tongue. You softly move your head back and forth, easing him further towards the back of your throat before you let yourself gag around him and pull off. You repeat this process a few more times, allowing more and more spit to fall from your mouth each time; knowing he loves when you get messy with it.

“Fuck, baby, always so fuckin’ good on your knees for me, always know just what I need” Ashton rambles, provoked at the sight of you pulling back to stroke him with a long, thick string of spit still connecting your mouth to his cock. You beam at his praise while he runs his hand over your face, somehow both tenderly and aggressively. “Gonna let me cum all over those gorgeous tits?”

You lean into his touch, mouthing at his hand a little. He takes the bait like you knew he would and pushes his thumb into your mouth, watching closely as you close your lips around it, swirling and sucking before scraping your teeth on it as he pulls it out.

"Is that what you want?" You ask, looking up at him with big eyes as you sit up higher on your knees. "I can also do you one better." You bite your lip in concentration as you guide him between your breasts, using your hands to trap his cock against your body and enclose him.

You've never heard anything quite like the sound he makes when you begin rubbing your tits up and down his shaft, a sound so throaty and new it makes you clench. You continue to massage his length against your breasts, your soft skin and the novelty of the act working in tandem to get him off.

You make eye contact as you spit on his cock and you feel it twitch on your chest as he moans. This fantasy has come up before, usually via sexting while he’s on tour but neither one of you had tried to follow through until now and judging by the noises he’s making, it’s living up to the expectation. You know he’s going to go wild when you breathily encourage, "Come on, babe, I think you should fuck 'em."

Ashton doesn't need to be told twice and immediately starts thrusting vigorously. He practically growls when you flick your tongue out to catch his tip on an upstroke, so you keep doing it.

"Jesus, baaaaby…" he groans, sounding positively undone, his pace unrelenting as he ruts against you. "So hot… fuck, so good…"

You grin at his incoherence, knowing he must be close. "Thought a special day deserved a special treat," you boast. "Ready to cum for me, babe?"

Ash acknowledges your words with a grunt, pulling away from your chest and putting his cock in your mouth again. You bob your head with intent to finish him and you know he's desperate when he gets a bit aggressive, pushing you to take him further down than last time. You've had him in your throat for less than a minute before he starts breathing heavy and pulls out just in time to shoot streams of cum all over your chest.

"Yes, baby… fuuuuuck… so fuckin’ good to me," he groans rhythmically in time with each spurt. You place the head of his cock on your tongue and milk out the remaining drops, revelling in his satisfied sounds.

He looks in adoration and disbelief at you, covered in his cum, clearly pleased with your work. He helps you off your knees and moves to kiss you when you press a finger to his lips, holding him off while you drag your other hand through the mess on your tits, delivering the substance to your mouth.

"God, I love you, baby," he sighs exhaustedly, kissing you passionately, groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself on your tongue. “This is so much more memorable than you sitting on the couch reading tweets with me.”

You cackle, pulling away to clean yourself off under the spray. "Well, I love you too," you coo. “Always happy to celebrate my man.”

Ashton grins and cradles you against him. “Good to know… I’ve got some ideas for how we can celebrate the second single coming out next week.”

You giggle and turn, wanting to see his face when you reply, “You plan that and I’ll take care of the celebration for your video premiere tonight?"

He pulls you closer and smirks, “Deal.”

————-

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[oristromboli]

If You Be Our Star, We’ll Be Your Sky | 1

Chapter 1: Haunted Memories

In which you grapple with past events bleeding into the present.

(Smut this chapter: none)

“The arrogation of mankind ends here.”

Things became a blur after that – your wings burst forth and you saw the twins take off in opposite directions as you split down the middle. Like some dance, the three of you wove between oscillating pillars of dark shapes folding in on themselves before all converged in on the imposing woman. She was no different from any other gate, any other obstacle you needed to cross between worlds; while you were often the one to suggest the quiet and efficient route, the twins charged forward with one clear goal in mind. Two-against-one were bad odds, especially when it was you between a rock and a hard-place – or, more accurately, squeezed between one twin and the other. You pitied the god as she braced for their combined onslaught, clearly unaware of what hell would rain down-

Except. Except, suddenly, you witnessed the twins suspended in mid-air, caught and strung up for their audacity.

You didn’t think, you couldn’t think, you dove for the first twin you saw and yanked them away from that void that crept from her fingers.

Lumine looked up, shocked and horrified all at once, and indescribable shame turned to ice in your blood. While you held on to Aether, you both witnessed Lumine become swallowed in that blackness, that.. nothingness, and you could only let go of Aether as he shot forward to flank the god.

His sword was drawn and in a flash of light did it seem to make contact. You quickly joined his side with hopes to see Lumine amidst the chaos. Everything would be okay again, you three could go back to adventuring, she would forgive the split-second decision, you told yourself. That is, until you saw the god tall and proud with barely a scoff as she looked at you two without even the decency of contempt. In that moment, you suddenly understood the impulsive twins’ tempers. You both dove towards the god, weapons drawn and red in your eyes.

Wait. Wait, no, that’s not right. The red was neither your anger nor panic, but the god’s powers enclosed on you both.

“Wait! Stop! Give my sister back!” Aether cried, and you closed your eyes, wishing to all the stars above that this was all a dream and you could stop suffocating –

 ---

 “Paimon! Paimon, get off of her,” Aether said, laughing as he lifts the fairy off of your chest and what the fuck Paimon.

“Aw, Paimon just wanted to help! She wasn’t waking up, so Paimon thought that shaking her would help,” she said, pouting as you felt her tiny paws release your shirt to only hang limply as she was carried like a sack of potatoes away from you. Emergency rations indeed.

“Okay, we need to have a serious talk about you and personal boundaries,” you mutter while you sit up, massaging feeling back into your collarbone. “If you don’t want to be designated as mascot number two behind our lil’ buddy, I suggest you start losing some weight before sitting on me.” You jerk your thumb towards Aether’s belt where a small glass ball hung and a golden Seelie flickered rhythmically. Is it snoring?

“Hey! Paimon is not mascot number two! And Aether’s cooking is too good…” she mumbles, flipping between indignant to having the gall to look somewhat guilty as she breaks free from his grasp. That didn’t last long, though, as Aether snickers with an incriminating finger poking the fairy.

“So, you admit to being our mascot?”

You very quickly tune their bickering out and set out about collecting your own bedroll before moving on to Aether’s. Most of your powers were sealed except for the few convenient ones, such as access to a subspace for storage and the ability to travel quickly within Teyvat, but otherwise, everything else was left for discovery. In that way, organizing your campsite became quick and easy work on the days that you weren’t woken by Hilichurls looking to turn your bedrolls into breakfast burritos.

Actually, scratch that. Hilichurls are better than Paimon ‘accidentally’ strangling you.

Aether’s laugh rings clear around you as he stretches his lithe body, already limber and prepared for the day. He never seemed to care much about comfortable beds – or, well, any basic comforts – but Paimon is right, he makes damn good meals. In your many months on Teyvat looking for Lumine, you both fell into a steady rhythm where he cooked and acted as a de facto leader while you archived everything you came across. Between the three – no, the two of you - you were often the one taking notes and painting the landscape around you in an effort to remember these adventures while Aether acted as the beacon of hope for the locals.

Even if Aether fills Lumine’s role easily, you can tell it was never comfortable.

You pause at that thought, glancing over to Aether who was making very exaggerated gestures to what you can only assume are his steps for Paimon à la carte. The ball holding your new friend bounces around with his movements, but the Seelie inside seemed unperturbed, if you were being honest. He never parted with the creature, and you were sure it was equally possessive of its new master.

In his own way, you think Aether tries to be subtle about it: between the Seelie’s ethereal golden glow and its headstrong personality, you can’t help but notice how he cradles the ball with a forlorn expression some nights. It was only polite to roll over in your pretend-sleep and very pointedly not comment. When he wasn’t wrapped around the ball, you laid next to him and held him as tightly in silent understanding, often falling asleep tangled like that.

The tear stains are always ignored the morning after.

You swallow around a sudden lump and turn around, fumbling for your own journal to see the next tasks for the day. Despite your own emotions, you know that Aether doesn’t blame you, he told you himself many times and says that there was only one of you. Still, you can’t help but wonder if - while he doesn’t blame you per se - he wishes it was Lumine you chose and not him. Ever the self-sacrificing big brother.

A red thread lies hidden in the page you left off, acting as a sort of make-shift bookmark. Wrapped in knots and with a sort of tender care for the regal dragon with amber eyes near the bottom is a single Starconch, dangling around with each gentle breeze. If anybody asks you, you would deny it vehemently, but you swore you could hear laughter from that conch sometimes from another big brother. Twirling the sapphire item, you can’t help the bittersweet smile that breaks out on your face against the stupid memory.

 ---

 You decided to stray from Liyue that day, most of your daily commissions done with Aether treating Paimon to dinner afterward. Like two parents, you switched days on who gets the honors of taking the overgrown child while the other relishes in time for themselves. It was natural; though you were used to traveling as a pack, sometimes you just… needed to get away.

Apparently, you weren’t the only one with that idea as you soon spied a figure lounging in the sandy beaches close to the city. When you were close enough to see the scarf billowing in the breeze, you stopped and immediately held your breath. Shit, shit, shit, did he know you were here? Maybe if you just quietly turned around, you could get away and leave the Eleventh Harbinger alone. Not that you were strangers to each other. Far from, actually, as you grew friendly with each other over the many weeks - or has it been months? Time flows differently in this world – spent together in Liyue.

“Hey, girlie,” he calls without looking your way and you freeze. Whelp, there goes that plan.

“H-hey,” you stutter, only to stop and tap your throat lightly before trying again. “Hey, Childe. Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

He snickers and turns then with a wide smile, yet it wasn’t as feral as you expected. If anything, he seems distant. “No, you’re fine. Looking for some peace and quiet from that stir-fry?”

“Oh, how did you know,” you say with a small smirk as you walk closer. Childe looks up at you and pats the sand next to him. No harm in that, sure, you could sit down. He was better company than Paimon at the moment, anyway. At that thought you grimace briefly, when the hell did you want to spend more time with a Fatui Harbinger? Still, you join him in watching the waters dance across the sand.

Okay, yeah, you can admit the view is gorgeous. Liyue never fails you in that regard with its mountains and crystal clear waters. The trees are always an explosion of color while the geography varies dramatically from one corner to another. You're certain Childe thought the same despite his incessant complaints about the heat.

Which, speaking of, he was unusually quiet and focused. When you glance at him, you only notice then he was thumbing a small, blue shell with a star on it. He catches your eye and holds up the conch. “Mm? This? You know, there’s an old legend in Liyue that says that if you hold the conch up to your ear, you can hear what your heart longs for,” he says as he flicks the conch to your hands. “For most, that’s the sea, of course. All the boats, all the business opportunities. Maybe you’ll hear the gremlin’s whining?”

You punch his shoulder lightly while he laughs, all the while eyeing you carefully. Maybe this was your cue to listen? However, when you hold the conch up, you didn’t hear the sea at all. Almost… suffocatingly empty, like… Your eyes widen, imperceptible to all except for damnably sharp Harbinger who you felt nudging against your foot from his own. “So? What’d you hear?”

“I hear… the ocean. The one between worlds,” you lie before you held it back out to him.

Childe guessed yours and Aether’s otherworldly - or rather, "not human" as he put it - status early on. You weren’t surprised coming from someone who carefully pointed out the use of elemental powers without visions, so you never bothered to obfuscate your stories from other realms too deeply. How Zhongli suspected, however, was beyond you at the time. The funeral consultant dismissed Aether’s questions with a lazy wave and this is no more strange than adepti in teapots.

Your companion shakes his head and wraps his gloves around yours, closing the conch into your fist.

“The ocean between worlds, huh?” Childe looks up then, something… something dark and inaccessible in his eyes again. You purse your lips and lower your eyes. “You know, I hear whales. The ones in the ocean here… They call out and follow each other,” he finishes, the pause in his sentence enough to be nearly visceral. He turns to you, eyes wicked and teeth bared in a wide smile. “Maybe they’re looking for a good kill?”

You snort. It became quite easy for you to dismiss these little moments of vulnerability, to close your eyes and forget. Ironic, considering you spent your waking days desperately trying to remember. “Maybe. Maybe there are some up there, looking for their next adventure. They’re… never alone, you know,” you murmur and ignore the curious look Childe gave you, “they have constellations all around them. To guide them home.”

“Sure,” he scoffs and stands. All of a sudden, that vulnerability was stamped underfoot like a stray pest. Did you say something wrong? Regardless, it’s unavoidable that some of the sand flies in your face from Childe’s movement, but you take the opportunity to swat him in fake annoyance nonetheless. Score one for you, zero for Fatui. Childe chuckles and offers his hand, which you take gratefully and will not comment on his tight grip while he dusted your back off, nope. You will not.

It wasn’t a long walk back to Liyue and the two of you fell into an easy banter. Well, easy for Childe since he ruthlessly pinpointed your pet peeves for exploitation, but you enjoy him nonetheless. This felt natural, dancing between the lines of friend and enemy.

Along the docks, the two of you run into Zhongli examining tapestries from a stand.

“Ah! Zhongli! What a surprise finding you here!... ” No it isn’t.

“... Just browsing, I see. What are you planning on buying?...” You mean what you are going to buy, Childe.

“... Is there anything we can help with?” Help the walking encyclopedia of Liyue? The entire time your face twists more in your incredulity at the implication of Zhongli requiring anything other than Mora. Still, you nod along, if only to hear Zhongli speak at length about the history associated. You are, after all, a curator of all things practical in knowledge.

The fact that his warm voice sends shivers to your core was just a bonus, honest.

Zhongli’s eyes shimmer as he looks at the two of you, crinkling faintly along the edges. “Indeed, I would greatly appreciate assistance in deciding which pattern to buy.” He turns back to the stand with a hand resting on his chin, and you flank Zhongli’s right while Childe goes to his left. “This design over here depicts Glaze Lilies in bloom, a wondrous sight most rare these days in Liyue. A moment preserved for all to appreciate. Over here, we see the clouds descending upon the mountains of Liyue…”

So you told yourself you were going to listen to Zhongli, but you suddenly can’t help staring at a long, crimson token. The strings appear to be woven in complicated patterns, but when you look closer, you realize that the patterns are dragon scales that meet on a wild head with Cor Lapis eyes. How curious. Once upon a time, you were sure a design like this would have adorned the walls of kings of yore, yet now it only serves as a cheap souvenir.

The single thought of pretty propels you grab it.

Of course, this does not go unnoticed by Zhongli and Childe. You felt the silence rather than heard it; in that moment, you look to their inquisitive gazes, eyes wide and face as flushed as the dragon. “I… I. I saw this and. It’s… Pretty. Pretty nice,” you lamely explain, suddenly at a loss for words when the full force of their combined gaze is set upon you. Stars and gods above, that was pathetic. Tourist trap sprung.

Childe’s smile grows indulgent and Zhongli’s tight-lipped expression never moves while his shoulders barely trembled. They… thought this was cute. Great. You purse your lips and turn away, mumbling obscenities under your breath. Still, a traitorous grin comes as you felt Childe’s hand settle on your shoulder as he not-so-subtly breaches your personal space after side-stepping the funeral consultant.

“A pretty token for a pretty girl, no?” he coos and leans forward to inspect the trinket in your hand.

“Childe possesses an expensive eye,” Zhongli agrees and his voice floods your other ear as the older man follows Childe’s lead. His rich timbre petrifies you, and you could only stand there with a white-knuckle grip while you listen to their appraisal. “In Liyue, an invisible red string is said to entwine the fate of all those caught in its distinct pattern, destined to meet regardless of time or circumstance. Never will it break, safeguarded by the divine itself. Even the tangled pandemonium it may cause would lead only to a grander, more intricate pattern at journey’s end. Perhaps this will lead you to your destination?”

“Zhongli, as much as I appreciate Liyue’s customs and stories, isn’t this a little too on the nose? Saccharine to the very end indeed,” Child snickers. Still, when he notices your crestfallen expression at his bickering, he gazes at Zhongli again before you hear your name called softly. “Hey. Let’s make a deal, yes?”

“What? No, no, no I am not making a deal with a Fauti Harbinger,” you immediately hiss and whip around. Damn the fallen Geo Archon, you will not be beholden to the whims to a Harbinger in the land that once belonged to the God of Contracts. In a desperate bid for allies, you beg your other friend, who was suddenly and conveniently interested in another token on the stand. Damn him too, you decide.

“Come on, pretty bird,” Childe says and pokes your side.

“I think I liked it better when you called me pretty girl.”

“Ah, no no, pretty bird because you always cry when the cats come over to play.”

“I do not, fuck you very much. And did you just call yourself a cat -?”

“I promise, this is a deal you’ll like. Do you trust me?”

“No.”

“Fair enough. I’ll buy it anyway.” Childe waves his hand to the vendor to barter. Before long, he returns triumphant with the long thread in hand and gently lays it in your own in the same manner he did with the Starconch shell. “Y’ready to hear my deal?”

“No.”

“In return for me generously buying you this,” he continues, ignoring your very pointed is this how he treats you, Zhongli and the amused no, simply you in response, “I want your end of the deal to be carrying this with you, in that little journal you think we don’t see you scribbling in.”

Your face immediately flushes with indignation. “Like a bookmark? Why?”

“Because,” Childe says while he carefully wraps the end closest to the dragon’s head around the shell. By the time he’s finished, the dragon looks to be gripping the glimmering item and protective amber eyes gaze upwards to the heavens, ignorant to Zhongli’s intense scrutiny. “Because, sweet thing, I think Zhongli’s right. The Hero of Mondstadt, a Fatui Harbinger, and a funeral consultant all walk into a bar – “

“That is not how I remember our first meeting, Childe.”

“ – and forgive our dear comrade’s ignorance of Snezhnayan jokes. Point being, I don’t want you to forget this,” he says, winking when you blink owlishly. It’s hard to remember that you’re supposed to hate this man and hate his sentimentality.

“This… this is your attempt to piss me off, isn’t it? Make me never forget I’m friends with a Harbinger? Put a mark on my back that says ‘I.O.U.’?”

“Aw, now why would I do that? You wound me!” Childe pretends to be hurt before elbowing you with all the mischief you would see Aether give you before charging a Hilichurl camp. “Besides, you said it yourself, friend. I just want to be remembered. That’s the only debt you owe.”

As much as you wanted to hit Childe then, you both turn when you hear Zhongli’s rumbling chuckle. You lean forward against Zhongli opting to hit him instead and relish in his little grunt to your effort, clearly only putting on a show for humor’s sake. “Wow. Is this a gift from you too, Zhongli?”

“Hey! I paid for it!”

“Thank you,” you say fondly. “Except�� Except I have nothing in return. Zhongli told me about how he gave you chopsticks, and you two gave me this – never mind how you even pay for Zhongli’s entire life. How can I…” You look down then, somber of the fact you are in the land of contracts.

(All must be fair in love and war.)

“How can I make this fair?” you settle, gazing up suddenly. Childe only laughs, characteristic of his lackadaisical attitude and oh stars you know this is going to bite you in the ass. You feel Zhongli’s hand rest on your hip and when you turn to him, he’s -

Oh gods he’s so close -

“Your company is enough, dear bird. Now come. I am in need of eyes tempered by travels outside of Liyue. It is refreshing to see these items anew.” He pivots on his heel and walks further along the docks without turning behind to check whether you and Childe would follow. You both do, of course, but not without half-hearted grumbles at his presumptuousness.

It became easier then, the bickering between you and Childe with Zhongli only stepping in when he cared enough to distract your verbal blows for opinions on his next purchase. That, of course, only led to the two of you turning on the refined gentlemen, determined to crack that stony exterior as punishment for his ridiculous disregard for money. How immature, how… childish. Damn it.

You hear your name being called. “Hey, hey, are you listening? Hey-“

 ---

 “Heyyy!” Paimon says, floating in front of your face while Aether snaps his fingers. Blinking awake, you snap to attention. Aether had gathered the rest of your supplies, and the three of you were ready to continue on your travels by foot to gather ingredients on approach to Dragonspine. “Hey! Paimon asked if you were ready to go?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, yeah I am. Sorry, was just trying to remember our, ah… next commissions,” you mumble before putting the journal away. Paimon gazes at you sympathetically then. With a sharp turn on your heel, you began walking towards the mountain with a renewed bounce in your step and lame determination to ignore Paimon’s pity. “C’mon! Better to get there sooner rather than later, yeah?”

Aether jogs to catch up and flicks his eyes between you and Paimon in some grand conspiracy. “Think if Paimon eats the last of our goulash again, we can use her as a hot blanket?” You both laugh, whipping around then to stare at the aforementioned fairy who only gulps.

“Paimon, ahh, Paimon is going to go scout ahead! Can never be too careful!” she chirps before floating ahead at a speed you only ever saw her gain when she spies a fresh meal. You were thankful, though. It’s no secret how you hurt these past few months since Childe’s departure to Schnezaya after his release of Osial. In many ways, that disaster became old news with the citizens of Liyue eager to remember the event only as of the fond ascension of the Liyue Qixing’s power rather than the near-death blow from the Vortex God. The peaceful Rite of Descension held after solidified the transition into the age of men. Though rumors were abound of Childe’s – no, Tartaglia’s – involvement, they were quickly muddled with the Fatui emphasizing new business opportunities in an attempt to let it all be “water under the bridge.”

Rather, they attempted to save face while Ningguang squeezed them under her golden thumb as retribution. Ultimately though, nobody truly witnessed Childe himself summoning the god of old.

That doesn’t make his actions any better after knowing. If anything, you find it almost easier to forgive – bitter in your private admission – since he acted only within his nature, no more and no less. Understanding was swift after you and Aether were somehow roped into helping him wrangle Teucer, a spitting image of the stubborn Childe you knew and not bloodthirsty Tartaglia, before his return to Schnezaya. You couldn’t find it in yourself to truly hate him after the Fatui’s blatant trust in you two to keep his secret, even as you jot down a new quest afterward: ‘Strangle Tartaglia, the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, at your next meeting.’

Before his departure from the Northland Bank, you even had the courtesy to warn him under your breath when you hugged him farewell. He naturally returned the sentiment and squeezed harder in emphasis.

Yep. Reasonable. Single-minded friends to the end.

No, you hate the Fatui more. Whether Tartaglia ever forgives his conniving comrades – and the Tsarista - is something for the stars to witness. You know how deeply he respected the Tsarista for her frigid yet imperial attitude, something borne from the experience of a true warrior who courted death head on, whose pale complexion was forever marred by the scarlet slaughter. The only time you saw light in his eyes was when he waxed poetry of her carnage, much to Paimon’s disgust.

His contempt for deceit often warred with his pragmatic attitude of “the ends justify the means.” Despite his misgivings, he acted within his orders perfectly. He even expressed his distaste for unnecessary power demonstrations, a complete contrast to your false assumption and Signora’s patronizations over his desire for chaos. The reward? Being used and tossed aside. With Tartaglia designated as a pawn in the Cryo Archon’s grand game instead of granted the bare decency for communication between commander and general, you couldn’t help but wonder where his opinions of her now lie. Even as he cursed Zhongli and Signora for leading him on, you heard humor lacing his words. You were sure that Tartaglia always suspected Zhongli to be more than a consultant, but the Tsaritsa’s blatant disregard for the Harbinger’s intelligence was offensive, even to you.

In the end, what Tartaglia really thinks of her now doesn’t matter. It never did.

No, you were – are, you desperately try to remind yourself – more disappointed with Zhongli, with Rex Lapis, the God of Contracts, the God of War, with fucking Morax. When you first came to Liyue with the intention of hunting down the Geo Archon, both you and Aether marveled at the Geo powers bestowed upon you from the first statue encountered out of Mondstadt. Surely, Aether pondered then, this meant that the Geo Archon approved of your Holy Grail quest. Instead, many months later and after some rather painful revelations, you both discovered that Zhongli – gentle, kind, and dear Zhongli – was none other than the stone-cold god instead. Aether tried convincing you for weeks that this was Zhongli’s nature, that as a god who walked Liyue for over six thousand years, he likely saw these as tactical maneuvers similar to the Archon War.

Aether, bless him, understood Zhongli’s reasoning deeply; after all, you two were likely thousands of years old yourselves despite stopping the count many centuries ago. You logically understand the desire for peace, but you can’t help the emotional betrayal.

Thankfully, Aether keeps most of his comments to himself. He knows you well enough to know why you were really upset, why your heart twists at the memories you spent with the former Archon, but he is wise enough to know when to pick his battles.

You still remember your bitter conversations with Zhongli afterwards, your rampage in seeking him out at Wangsheng Funeral Parlor for answers. Except, what answers could he give you that he didn’t already offer at the Golden House? Still, that didn’t stop you as you barreled forward, didn’t stop you from pounding against his stone-cold chest and meeting his irritatingly serene gaze as you demanded he sat down for what pitiful interrogation you could dish out on the God of War. Since that confrontation, you spent much of your time in Liyue attempting to harass – or reconcile? – with Zhongli.

As you approach the mountain’s base, you feel Aether’s hand on your shoulder and his soft voice, “She didn’t mean it you know. She’s worried about you.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“I’ll bet you, I don’t think she’s forgiven him either. Paimon knows you’re trying, you’ve spent more time with Zhongli to repair things, but as much as she loves the fact that you’ve gotten him to pay for all our meals now, I'm pretty sure she’s still mad at him.”

You laugh then, and Aether perks up at your shift. He wraps one arm around your shoulders and pulls you close, matching his steps with yours as you snicker along. “Stars help the Lord of Geo, because he hasn’t face the fury of a hungry Paimon.”

 ---

 “Promise me.”

“I understand.”

“No, Morax, you don’t. I need you to promise me.” You scowl hard, hands slamming on the desk as you stare deep into his amber eyes. He only passively stares back, but you knew him better than that. Those months of connection, of deeper understanding – even if you didn’t truly understand then it was because of two immortals who subconsciously recognized eternity in the other – gave you some advantages, such as recognizing that flicker of guilt across his eyes before disappearing. You don’t relent in your assault as you both ignore Aether and Paimon in the background tensely watching. “You owe us. That explanation at the Golden House and Rite of Parting was crap.”

"But Mr. Zhongli told us everything - "

"He gave us half the story, Paimon," you growl. "Isn't that right? How deep in with the Fatui were you? What did you tolerate?" 

The air grows thick as memories of each Fatui camp obliterated run through your mind. You barely managed to stomach reading even half of the detailed accounts on the experiments conducted within Liyue. His eyes flick to the bags around your eyes, then towards the journal hanging by your side.

Zhongli’s fingers rap his table as his nostrils flare. Good. You got him on edge. Still, before you can say more, he relents and you try not to be disappointed. He knows when he is faced with an immovable mountain. With no more protest, Zhongli rummages for spare paper and ink before pulling both out and writes up a quick contract with a few lines of promises for total honesty. The pen narrowly avoids tearing the paper with the pressure. As he hands the paper to you, he never meets your eyes as he says, “It is important to me that you know I was authentic with you after Osial’s defeat. I hope this reassures and appeases your curiosity. If a physical symbol is required for what I have always given you, starlight, then so be it.”

Each word of his grows softer, yet only digs deeper daggers into your heart. Starlight. His own nickname for you to mirror Tartaglia’s pretty bird, yet you didn’t know why or how it came to be. Regardless, you take the contract and inspect his signature. Grabbing the pen from his hand – and with barely a flinch at his fingers lingering near yours – you sign your own name. “… Not always, clearly. It’s done,” you murmur and bring the contact with you to the fire behind him. All other parties in the room watch as you shuffle closer to the fire, ears straining for your next words that are nearly drowned in the incessant crackling. “You’re a lot like him, you know. Childe.”

Zhongli stiffens. “You have said so before.”

“You both see the world around you as means to an end, some limit to be pushed or some assessment to be passed. Is he… is he as bloodthirsty as you were, too? Back then?” He draws a sharp breath, though you don’t look behind you to see what expression he wears.

“… Yes. He is. I had expressed such sentiments to him before his departure. Childe only laughed, and… He told me that he knew there was a reason he liked me.” It takes all your willpower to not grip the contract any harder than you did, so you were proud of yourself, damn it. Still, you nod before tossing the contract into the fire.

Zhongli swiftly rises at that, and as you turn around, you watch his fierce eyes on you debate either questioning you or hurling a stone pillar towards you on pure instinct. Some habits die hard, it seems.

You only laugh, shoulders relaxing for the first time since Osial rose from the sea. “Zhongli.” He freezes, as if it were possible to become even tenser than he already is, and mouth parts lightly as you whisper his mortal name so sweetly. “All I needed to know was your willingness. I don’t care about contracts, I never even asked for it. Let’s not do that. It’s been six thousand years already, hasn’t it?”

He swallows thickly. “Yes. It has been.” Zhongli sits down and sweeps an arm out, gesturing for you three to take seats in front of his desk. Although you were the one to initiate the conversation, Aether and Paimon ask most of the questions while you keep your eyes glued to the desk in front of you. That didn’t stop you from feeling Zhongli’s eyes on you though, ever curious as to what was behind your own neutral complexion.

He taught you too well to hide your emotions; the thought alone is enough to crack the god of stone’s heart.

Unfortunately for the three of you, Zhongli can offer no explanation for their activities within Liyue. Although he was aware of some of their sickening actions, he was forced to turn a blind eye as he focused on the grander picture. Mortals needed to learn to handle affairs amongst themselves while he doubled his efforts in safeguarding what was personally important to him as he prepared to step down.

As you three were leaving his office – and after Paimon manages to convince Zhongli to pay for all her meals as recompense – you linger when you hear the former Archon call your name. When you turn back to see him, his own eyes aren’t meeting yours, but are instead taking the ring from around his thumb to place on the desk. What is the old idiot doing?

“I am not worthy of this gift,” he begins, closing his eyes as he shifts the ring forward. Copper floods your mouth from how tightly you bite your tongue then to keep from practically weeping at witnessing Zhongli attempt to give back the ring you gifted so many months ago. “You gave this to Childe and I as equal payment for our own gifts, yet you did this as promise to remain as true friends. I will not apologize for my actions, as I did what I believe to be right for Liyue as its Geo Archon.” His eyes open, resolute and vibrant. True to his word, there is no remorse for his manipulations. “As a mortal, however… I do not believe I have adequately upheld my end of the bargain. ”

Underneath his gloves, his knuckles go white from how tightly he clenches his fists in his lap.

“Zhongli…” You step forward to grab the ring before gently taking one of his hands. After unfurling his fist, you gingerly place the ring back in his palm. The ring you gave Zhongli is of a golden dragon wrapped around, biting its own tail. A symbol of eternity. For Tartaglia – Childe, you correct yourself, he was Childe then – you gave him a ring of silver and sea glass so brilliant, it acted as a mirror that could rival the ocean’s reflections. “Do you remember how Childe whined that my gift was impractical, compared to the utensils and bookmark?”

“Yes,” Zhongli says, smiling at the memory. “He complained that it would hinder battle as he gripped his bow.”

“Right. I said that it was so he would never forget how annoying I can be when I wanted to,” you giggle. “I gave this to you after you told me of how… of how all your friends forever shined like gold in your memories. I wanted to be like that too.” Before he could respond to your crack, you continue, purposefully cutting his thoughts off. “I know you promised to write Childe. He told me he made peace with you after bribery with some osmanthus wine. Something about learning how to be mortal, getting a chance to fight you, all that. He also told me he was ordered to keep you close as an asset, even if he didn’t understand why at the beginning. The Tsaritsa wants to keep tabs on your ‘progress’ and movements, I’m sure. For all of Tartaglia’s Fatuiness, he’s not very secretive about that sort of stuff. Guess he was glad to be done with those lies.”

Zhongli doesn’t respond and watches your face as you speak, so you took this as a cue to continue your speech as you withdrew your hands. You meet his gaze then. “I want you to let him know that I won’t try to make contact with him. I made my peace with him while Teucer was here, I harbor no bad blood. We were both pawns.” You ignore how Zhongli’s throat bobbed. “But I can’t keep contact with him. Not now, at least, not with where our mission is heading.”

After a long moment, the Geo Archon closes his eyes, before reopening to the imperial gaze the statues of him around the country forever etched. You both knew this was little more than a game, though. Nothing could make you bend the knee to any god before, why would you now? “Will you still visit me in Liyue?” he asks. For all of his age, you marvel at how lost he sounds.

A god who never learned how to be vulnerable, to be human.

“Yes, I promise, because you’re my friend.”

              ---

After that, the weeks crawled by, but you kept your promise. Ningguang saw fit to reward you, Aether, and Paimon with a reserved room in the finest inn at Feiyun Slope for whenever you passed through, as befitting of the Heroes of Monstadt and Liyue. Though the three of you collapsed on the floor in the apartment and wept honest-to-gods tears of joy of not having to open your wallet for once, you saw this as a cosmological suggestion for you to begin your journey of forgiving Zhongli.

Which, no, that was a lie actually. You knew deep down you already forgave Zhongli, that wasn’t the issue.

Long after Paimon retreated to her own bed tucked amongst an ungodly amount of pillows and blankets set in one of the larger windows, Aether sat you down in another windowsill to ask you honestly about your feelings on Zhongli and Childe. Thank the stars you knew Aether for centuries because he opened his arms instinctually as you sniffled and crawled over, burying your head into his chest as tears flowed openly for the first time since you both lost Lumine. After apologies and please let me wash your scarf I’m sorry I made it gross and no don’t you dare I ruin your shirts all the time, you began to confess how, for the first time, you felt dually matched tit-for-tat in these two men.

Tartaglia reminds you of the joys of adventures, of youth, of the difference between surviving and being alive while Zhongli gives you the stability that a mountain eternal would. He beckoned you through the history of Liyue with a warm smile, shared in your long conversations with Aether on the nature of life well into the night against the dawn, and stood steadfast as warden against your own anxieties of eternity despite not knowing then of his own timeless status.

Could it be helped that you fell as quickly as a star, set aflame with hopes of something more?

Yet, once again, luck proved to not be on your side. You remember in the days leading up to the battle with Osial at discovering how Zhongli and Childe would share long conversations or made time for meals regardless of busy schedules. Though you confessed to Aether that you recognize it was because both wanted to keep tabs on the other without revealing their ulterior motives, it didn’t fail to ignite anxiety, especially now that you knew Zhongli maintained correspondence with Childe, despite the former’s insistence that it was strictly friendly and contractual.

Stars, could you have felt any more like a selfish kid then? To want both men left you feeling equal parts angry with yourself and with them. How dare you allow yourself to get close to them? You should have left the socializing to Aether, fuck.

Combined with the fact that both men betrayed everyone involved and were shy of brawling each other in the Golden House, you couldn't help but feel that most - if not all - of the memories made were false. Bloodthirsty, warmongering, and ruthless in pursuit of their goals. Did they really care for any but themselves?

Aether held you tightly that night, singing songs in your shared native tongue that sounded of bells and twinkling glass to lull you into a fitful sleep. In the weeks after, you grew to become friendly with Zhongli once again, and if Aether didn’t know you any better, he would have said you moved on.

Except he did know you better.

Despite his own attempts at explanation, he knew you had to see for yourself what both he and Paimon witnessed during those long months spent in Liyue with Childe and Zhongli. He knew how frustrated the Harbinger and ex-Archon would grow, restless in their seats if you took too long escorting Paimon around the city to collect snacks. Aether got along like fire to a wooden house with the other two, all wit and not-so-professional humor. However, knowing that he fulfilled the diplomatic role to help others, you took the opportunity to try to irritate Childe where you could – at first because of his Fatui status, until it evolved into you and the Harbinger competing to elicit a laugh from present company without throwing hands.

While Aether certainly didn’t like to pry where it wasn’t his business – that was Kaeya’s modus operandi, thank you – he sometimes wondered if Childe and Zhongli viewed you and Aether as the guide to that murky area between mortal and divine. Their robust characters more than once reinforced his idea that Visions reflected personalities rather than the nation’s sovereign ruler. By extension, when he thought about how water crystalizes geo, he concluded that the speed Childe and Zhongli summoned shields and attempted to break them in a conversational dance whenever they were together was due to some deeper, instinctual urge.

That, or they were just nearly the same brand of deceitful, halfwitted idiots.

Perhaps that was why they felt comfortable constructing such a close friendship. To both of them, this merely played into some larger façade, all while convinced that the other was entirely fooled by the thick shield. Aether laughed to himself. The morons got so tangled in mental games, they unknowingly built a true and dependable relationship, if the blatant stress between them in the Golden House was anything to by.

Aether was not born yesterday. He didn’t survive these many millennium by not carefully observing the inhabitants of each world they visited. He is friendly, yes, but not ignorant. And how could he fault you for trying to find some sliver of happiness here, even if it was temporary? Stars above know his own heart ached each night.

That was why he was so sure you felt as comfortable around them as you did with Paimon and himself. The traveling troupe acted as a pacifying force for whatever the hell was going on between Childe and Zhongli being head deep in manipulations. In the little ragtag gang of the three travelers, none of you held tolerance for any bullshit and welcomed only peace, in whatever form a Fatui Harbinger and Geo Archon could manage.

He personally never doubted the authenticity of any sentiments, any stories expressed in conversations between all of you, even if you were now swimming with mistrust. The loneliness of not being able to trust anybody... He doesn't know if he can take much more abandonment after Lumine's entrapment. Everyone holds their own secrets, what they share always has a sliver of truth. Lies are built on that. By extension, Aether had no doubts that Childe and Zhongli were equal parts stubborn, righteous, and fucked up in their own uniquely Teyvaten ways. 

At this point though, weren’t you all? Aether glumly drew his gaze upwards to the peak of the mountain. All of this for a five-thousand mora commission? Whoopee.

When the three of you grew closer to Dragonspine, he fell behind to gather tinder for a cooking fire to shake himself out of these deeper thoughts. As Aether returned, he couldn’t help his open fascination as Paimon played dodgeball with the small stones you were hurling at her when she kept commenting on your stove-building skills instead of helping.

In a hidden blessing, some things will never change. While rummaging through his subspace storage, the smile on his face quickly falls when he realizes –

“Guys. We have a problem.”

-

notes:

1) According to the game, starconches let you hear the ocean, no matter where you are. In a lot of religious texts (Buddhist, Egyptian, Mesopotamian, etc), the oceans are referenced as the bridge between heaven and earth, i.e. "bridge between worlds"

2) In one of childe's voicelines, he specifically references the Traveler wielding a lot of unusual powers without a vision

3) One of the MC's voicelines also references how time in Teyvat seems to be quicker with the days being so short

love yall <3

[rewritethestars5218]

Febuwhump Day 4

I wrote this in the span of 3 hours. I don’t guarantee any type of quality lol.

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29163078/chapters/71890002

______________________

Don't Try to Pin This On Me

The sparring match had been Legend’s idea.

The group was enjoying a much-needed break in Warriors’ Hyrule.

Legend and Warriors were tasked with collecting firewood. Wild volunteered to go with them since he needed to catch some fish and gather some extra ingredients.

Legend and Warriors started their usual bickering about 30 minutes into their little excursion, something having to do with training.

Wild wasn't paying attention, opting instead to walk the river bank looking for fish.

"You know it wouldn't hurt you to get a little extra training now and again," Wild heard Warriors claim.

"Not all of us are as obsessed with having perfect fighting form, pretty boy," Legend argued.

"That's because most of you haven't had any formal training," Warriors countered.

"Please. Both Sky and Wild have had 'formal training,' and you don't see them obsessing over it like you do. I bet if you sparred with Wild right now, he would do just as well as you."

Wild cringed.

"Hey Wild, do me a favor and knock this pretty boy down a few pegs," Legend implored.

Wils slowly turned around, his annoyance on full display. "Don't drag me into your little squabble."

"Come on! I'm tired of this prick continually going on about how we should all train more. Prove him wrong, and I'll lend you my fire rod for a week."

Wild's eyebrow shot up. He glanced at Warriors, who just shrugged. "I'm down for a sparring session," he offered.

Normally Wild made a point to stay out of any bets Warriors and Legend made with each other, but the vet's offer proved to be too tempting to pass up.

Wild sighed and grabbed his slate. After a few swipes, a royal guard's sword and a soldier's shield materialized in his hands.

Wild discovered after his first sparring session with Warriors that, while he didn't remember his days as a royal knight, the training he received had stayed with him.

He stunned the entire group when he was able to go blow to blow with the captain.

It wasn't that they didn't think Wild was a capable fighter; they just were shocked to see that the kid had formal training in sword fighting.

Warriors and Wild got into position.

"Don't expect me to go easy on you," the captain ribbed.

Wild smirked. "Like I would let you."

With that, the two charged each other, the clanging sound of their blades cutting through the air.

Legend always got a kick at watching Wild spar, especially when it was with Warriors and Sky.

The kid had some goddess-given talent when it came to fighting, something that seemed to clash with his gremlin nature.

The kid was terrifying in a fight, and it was because of the unconventional methods he used while fighting.

Who would have known that buried underneath that insane pyromaniac was a trained royal soldier?

Wild fell into the familiar dance quickly, his footwork and sword skills matching Warriors effortlessly.

Wild managed to land a couple of solid hits, putting Warriors on the defensive.

Growling in frustration, the captain upped his game, his strikes coming quicker and with more force than before.

Neither realized just how close they had gotten to the riverbank.

Wild smiled as a familiar feeling washed over him. He knew, deep down, the old him enjoyed the thrill of sparring with someone his equal.

As he lunged forward with his sword, he suddenly found himself recalling a moment long ago, his hair cut short, his face unscarred as he fought a fellow soldier along the same riverbank.

It was rare that Wild recalled a memory during a fight, but maybe because this wasn't a life or death battle, his brain decided it was a good time to drift to a time long before the Calamity struck.

The flashback only lasted a few seconds, but it was plenty of time for him to drop his guard.

Warriors had side-stepped away from Wild's attack. He brought up his shield and swung it towards Wild, fully expecting the champion to dodge or block the familiar move.

Instead, Wild just stood there, allowing his sword to drop slightly. By the time Warriors realized something was wrong, it was too late.

His shield collided with the side of Wild's head, the momentum sending Wild careening over the riverbank and into the rushing waters.

Legend cursed as he took off towards the riverbank, totally confused at what he just witnessed.

By the time Warriors wrapped his head around what just happened, Legend had appeared to his side.

"What the fuck was that?" Legend barked as he scanned the water for any sign of their fallen friend.

Warriors was too stunned to answer. Wild had countered that attack easily in the past.

Legend yelled Wild's name, shaking the captain out of his thoughts.

Suddenly Legend was in the water, his attention locked on the familiar blue bobbing in the water.

Warriors ran down the shoreline, keeping pace with Legend.

Legend reached out desperately, snagging Wild's tunic. He pulled the champion close to him, biting back the paralyzing worry when he realized Wild was out cold.

Legend struggled to keep his grip on Wild as he attempted to swim towards shore.

Thankfully, a strong hand reached out and grabbed him, and he felt himself being dragged towards the shore.

The second they could stand, both Legend and Warriors pulled Wild out of the river and laid him on his back on the rocky shore.

Warriors ran a hand through his wet hair, still trying to process what just happened as Legend checked to see if Wild was breathing.

"I swear Legend...I didn't mean to hit him that hard," Warriors stammered. "I thought....he normally..."

"Now's not the fucking time," Legend barked as he tried desperately to hear if the champion was breathing.

Wild almost immediately started coughing up the water he inhaled to Legend's relief, and the vet quickly rolled him on his side.

Now that Wild was out of the water, Legend could see blood start to run down the side of his face.

"Go grab a potion from your pack" Legend ordered.

"...I don't have my pack," Warriors gasped, suddenly realizing he left it at camp.

"What the fuck, Wars!" Legend spat.

"Well, did you bring yours?!" Warriors yelled.

Legend's eyes went wide when he realized he didn't have his with him either.

Legend cursed under his breath as he unhooked Wild's slate from his belt.

"He HAS to have a freaking potion or something in this damn slate," Legend growled as he frantically tried to figure out how to get to the champion's inventory.

He finally found where Wild usually kept his potions and fairy's but saw that he was out.

Warriors had pulled off his scarf and wrapped Wild's head with it, temporarily stopping the bleeding.

"What the hell do we do? Is it safe to carry him back to camp?" Warriors finally asked.

"How the fuck should I know. I'm not Hyrule," Legend snapped. "Did you really need to hit him that hard??"

Warriors shot him a seething look. "This was your idea to begin with," he scolded.

"Don't you put this on me," Legend argued back. "I didn't realize you were going to bash your shield into his head!"

Warriors felt his anger fizzle out as his face dropped.

Legend mumbled another curse under his breath when he realized his words hit below the belt. He knew damn well Warriors didn't go out to hurt Wild intentionally.

"Sorry," the vet mumbled. "That was a shitty thing to say."

Warriors looked away from the vet for a second before his eyes went wide.

He turned back to Legend. "There's a shrine next to the camp!" he declared.

Legend narrowed his eyes. "Yeah...so?"

"Warriors quickly snatched the slate out of Legend's hands. "Wild can teleport to the shrines using the slate. That's how we are getting him back to camp.

Legend's eyes went wide. "Fuck that. I don't trust that damn thing!"

"Do you have a better idea?!" Warriors demanded. "Cause I don't."

Legend growled in frustration. He hated to admit it, but it was their best option.

Before Legend could say anything, Warriors was already tapping the slate.

Warriors was so grateful he had Wild show him how the slate worked early into their travels.

He placed his hand on Wild's shoulder as he looked towards Legend.

"Grab my arm," he ordered.

Legend reluctantly complied. Before he knew it, he felt himself levitate slightly as the world around them disappeared into a flash of blue. ------------------------------------ Their sudden appearance at the shrine sent the whole camp into a frenzy.

Thankfully, a red potion and some much-needed healing from Hyrule all but healed Wild's injury.

The champion had yet to wake up, but Hyrule assured them he would be fine.

To Legend and Warriors' surprised, Time didn't seem angry about the impromptu sparring match. He was more concerned about Wild spacing out in the middle of the fight.

"I wonder if he had a flashback," Twilight offered after hearing the whole story.

"Maybe, but he's never had one before while he was fighting. I wonder what made today so different."

Twilight shrugged. They would have to ask Wild when he woke up IF he even remembered what happened. ------------------------------------- Wild woke up just before sunset.

Thankfully, outside a headache, he seemed to be fine.

Legend looked up while everyone was getting ready for bed to see that Warriors had disappeared.

Sighing, he stood up and looked at Time, who simply nodded as if he already knew what Legend was going to do.

He started walking towards the treeline. It didn't take him long to find Warriors sitting against a fallen tree, lost in thought.

Legend took a deep breath. He was never good at comforting people.

Warriors glanced back towards him slightly, letting Legend know the captain was well aware of his presence.

"You didn't strike me as the type to sulk around," Legend began.

Warriors didn't say anything, which only made Legend angry. Maybe it was because it made the vet feel guilty. It had been his birdbrain idea, after all.

"Listen, how long are you going to sit out here feeling sorry for yourself?" he finally said.

Warriors tensed up but didn't look back. "As long as I fucking want..."

Legend groaned in frustration. He walked the rest of the way to Warriors and sat next to him.

"Look, shit happen," Legend offered. "No one blames you for what happened. It was a freak accident, nothing more."

"Doesn't make me feel any less of an asshole," Warriors countered.

"Hey, as you said, it was my stupid idea. If anyone gets to feel guilty about today, its me."

"Goddesses, you two will literally argue about anything."

Both Warriors and Legend spun around to see Wild standing behind them.

"What the hell are you doing up?" Legend questioned as Wild took a seat next to them.

"I told the others I needed to get some air," Wild answered. "I know they mean well, but sometimes the attention gets to be a little too much to deal with."

Before Legend or Warriors could respond, Wild kept talking.

"Look, what happened today was NOT your fault," Wild said, directing the comment at both of them.

"While we were sparring, I had a flashback," Wild continued. "As far as I know, I have never had a flashback while I was fighting. Maybe it was because it was just a simple sparring match, but there was no way either of you would have known that would happen, so please, stop trying to take the blame for something you two had no control over."

Warriors shook his head. "No, I took it too far. I didn't need to go at you as hard as I did."

Wild scoffed. "I went at you just as hard. Would you blame me if the role would have been reversed?"

Warriors didn't answer, and Wild knew he made his point.

The champion turned his attention to Legend.

"And you...last I checked, both Wars and I had free will. Either of us could have told you to piss off, but deep down, we both were itching to spar."

Legend mumbled something unintelligible under his breath, reluctantly conceding Wild's point.

"I can't believe you managed to teleport me back to camp," Wild continued.

"That was all his idea," Legend said as he pointed at Warriors. "He's the one who knew how."

"I also heard you went with," Wild continued, smirking at Legend. "I thought you said you would never use that "magic teleporting bullshit."

Legend felt himself get flustered. "It wasn't like we had much of a choice."

Wild's smirk widened. "And it wasn't that bad, was it?"

"It was fucking horrible," Legend complained. "I don't understand how you can tolerate it."

Wild shrugged, "Maybe I'm made of tougher stuff."

Legend finally cracked and shoved Wild.

"Careful now, I'm injured, remember?" Wild laughed

"Too bad Warriors didn't knock some sense into you," Legend snarked, causing both Warriors and Wild to chuckle.

"Come on," Wild coaxed. "If we don't get back to camp soon, Twilight is going to sick Wolfie on us."

[frenchfrysplash]

fic: between heaven, the sky, the earth

The Haunting of Bly Manor

Dani/Jamie

Chapter 1/10

Read on AO3 Here! Or you can continue into the Read More.

Summary: Jamie goes between one moment, and the next. Falling around her like rain, like snow.

She's here for a reason. Here to help.

She just needs to remember.

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

They say a dream takes only a second or so, and yet in that second a man can live a lifetime. He can suffer and die, and who's to say which is the greater reality: the one we know or the one in dreams, between heaven, the sky, the earth"- Perchance to Dream," The Twilight Zone, Episode 1x09

April 1984

Jamie's fingers twisted together, so tight it almost hurt.

The kitchen of Bly Manor was silent, save for a clock ticking on the wall, driving Jamie slowly insane. Her heart was thrumming in her chest, the starch of her collared shirt itching at her throat. She should have chosen a blouse, something more feminine, instead of the slacks and grey button up she wore. Who knew what the Wingraves would think of her? They might take one look at her and send her home, not wanting their grounds cared for by a dy-

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Miss Tayler!"

Jamie practically leapt out of her seat, almost knocking the chair over. Charlotte Wingrave swept into the room like a breeze on a warm day, her smile lighting up the kitchen and making the corners of Jamie's lips pull up of their own accord. She reached across the table to shake Jamie's hand, and Jamie found herself resisting the ridiculous urge to pull Charlotte's hand towards her to kiss her knuckles. Charlotte Wingrave, with her dark hair, her kind eyes, and her easy elegance, seemed to inspire the chivalrous side of Jamie's nature. It had been the same the first time they met, when Jamie called on the manor to answer the ad for a new gardener.

"Don't worry about it," Jamie said. And cleared her throat. "I wasn't waiting long. And please, call me Jamie."

"Well, thank you, Jamie" Charlotte settled herself in the seat opposite. "I do try to be on time, but, with two young children, the day does get away from you."

"I can only imagine, ma'am," Jamie replied, sitting back down. "I knew a pair of kids once, right pair of wee gremlins they-"

She stopped, furrowing her brow. She had never known any children, had none of her own, and didn't know anyone with kids. She wasn't sure what had made her say that, but fortunately, Charlotte didn't pursue the tangent.

"Now, you told me you were interested in the gardener position when you dropped by the other day," Charlotte said, hands folding in front of her. "The letter you wrote was excellent, and you seem to have plenty of experience. So tell me, what interests you about the job?"

"Oh, well," Jamie sat up a little straighter, trying to ignore her sweaty palms. "I've been working as a labourer for a landscaping company in London. Worked on a lot of different gardens, all over the city." She paused, trying to work out how to say the next part. "If I'm honest, I wanted to get out to the countryside. London is a bit fast-paced for me, even with growing plants, and I've been wanting to slow down. It's like," Jamie hands came up, like she was trying to pull the words out of the air, "people there don't understand that growth takes time. I thought somewhere like this," she gestured vaguely, "somewhere with so much history, so much growth over time, I thought, somewhere like that, the people might just get it."

She held her breath, hoping she hadn't put Charlotte off with her speech. But Charlotte was smiling, and nodding along. Jamie felt herself smile back.

"Very good," Charlotte said, voice warm and approving. "Now, with this position, you would be responsible for the upkeep of the entire grounds. Does that sound like something you're comfortable with?"

"More than comfortable," Jamie replied. "Sounds wonderful to me. I like the idea of caring for something like that, keeping it happy and healthy."

"Excellent." Charlotte beamed, and Jamie blinked. For an instant, a different face had beamed at her from across the table; a beautiful face, with blue eyes and blonde hair, and a smile that tugged at Jamie's heart. But she must have imagined it, because a moment later, it was just Charlotte again.

She realized Charlotte had said something that she'd missed, and Jamie leaned forward.

"Sorry? I didn't quite catch that."

"Oh, apologies." Charlotte cleared her throat. "I asked, how did you start gardening?"

Oh.

Jamie hesitated, casting her eyes away from Charlotte's face, her own falling. Here it was. She could lie, and hope Charlotte never found out. Or she could tell the truth.

"Well, I got into it because-" Jamie stopped, and sighed, shoulders drooping. For the first time, she avoided Charlotte's gaze. "Honestly, the garden was one of the work rotations I was given in prison."

She risked a glance. Charlotte's smile had faded, replaced with a furrowed brow. She nodded to Jamie to continue.

"I had never so much as picked up a spade before," Jamie admitted. "But when they put me in that garden, it was like something…settled. It was hard work, and it kept my mind quiet. There were other women there I learned from, and when I got out, one of them helped me find my job in London. Haven't looked back since."

She let herself meet Charlotte's eyes, fully expecting to find disapproval and disappointment there. Instead, she found the older woman was looking at her thoughtfully, finger tapping her chin. Jamie shifted uncomfortably, a sliver of hope blooming in her chest.

"You know, Jamie," Charlotte said kindly. "I think of myself as a great judge of character."

Jamie said nothing, just nodded.

"After all," Charlotte sat back in her chair, waving her hand as if to indicate the entire manor. "I hired Hannah Grose. And that woman is a miracle, let me tell you."

Despite herself, a small smile quirked Jamie's lips. She had briefly met Mrs. Grose on her way in, and could tell right away that she would get on well with the housekeeper.

If she got the job, which didn't look likely in that moment.

"So you see," Charlotte continued. "I knew straight away when you walked in that I would hire you, and I'm not one to distrust my gut feelings."

"I understand, Lady Wingrave, I-" Jamie stopped. "Wait, I'm sorry?"

"Jamie," Charlotte said patiently. "Will you be able to care for the garden and grounds of Bly Manor?"

"Yes," Jamie said, hardly daring to breathe.

"Then that's all I need to know," Charlotte smiled at her. "Your reference from your former employer is impeccable, and the experience you outlined in your cover letter lends me the utmost confidence that you are the perfect candidate for the gardener position. When can you start?"

"I-" Jamie's brain stuttered. She swallowed. "When do you need me, ma'am?"

"Right away, if possible," Charlotte said, standing up and smoothing down her skirt. "Of course, you're still living in London, I take it? You can stay in one of the rooms here until you find your own place. Don't worry, I'll help you."

"Thank you," Jamie stood up as well, eyes wide, hardly daring to believe what had just happened. "Ma'am, I -"

"Your past is your past, Jamie," Charlotte said. "Let's live in the present, shall we?"

She held out her hand to shake again, and Jamie took it, beaming from ear to ear. But when she went to drop the hand, Charlotte didn't let go.

"Uh, Lady Win-"

The words died in Jamie's throat, replaced with a strangled gasp. Charlotte Wingrave had disappeared, and instead, a monster stood in front of her. A woman, in a white nightdress, dripping wet from head to toe, her long dark hair hanging like weeds over her shoulders. And her face, her face-

She had no face. No eyes. No nose. Only a wide, gaping mouth.

Jamie tore her hand away, gasping, scrambling back, hitting the wall, as the creature stepped forward, hands reaching, reaching, reaching-

"Let's get out of here," a voice whispered in her ear. Jamie turned, finding herself inches from the blonde woman she thought she'd seen earlier, a grin on her lips, blue eyes twinkling. The woman laced their fingers together, and tugged-

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

September 1987

"How the hell is it so hot?" Jamie whined, letting herself be pulled along the street. "I didn't think America would be this hot."

"You're a baby," Dani said. "A giant baby. I can't believe how much of a baby you're being."

"I miss the rain," Jamie said.

"You hate the rain."

"Do not. Rain is lovely. Waters the plants for me. Gives me a nice break."

Dani laughed, and Jamie grinned. That was the best sound in the world, right there. Dani Clayton's laugh. She could spend the rest of her life making Dani laugh.

With that thought, she tugged on Dani's hand, stopping her in her tracks.

"Jamie," Dani started, voice threatening annoyance. But she was smiling as Jamie pulled her in, kissing her soundly and sliding her fingers through blonde hair. Dani let out a happy sigh, other hand landing on Jamie's hip, pulling her closer-

"Fuckin' Dykes!"

The shout came from a passing car, and Jamie tore herself away from Dani to flip them off and yell some obscenity back. Dani shook her head, scowling.

"It's not worth it, Jamie," she said dully.

"So much for San Francisco being gay friendly," Jamie grumbled, as the two started walking again.

"There's always gonna be assholes," Dani told her. She took Jamie's hand again, slotting her fingers together like they'd been doing it all their lives, not just a couple of months. "But come on, we've faced down ghosts. Homophobes've got nothing."

"I'd still like to punch their lights out," Jamie said, glaring in the direction of the car. But she hadn't missed the quip about Bly Manor. Were they really at a point where they could joke about it?

She didn't get a chance to ask, though, because suddenly Dani was pulling her along again, their leisurely stroll turning into a brisk clip. Jamie let herself be led, content to watch Dani's hair flutter in the breeze, Dani's earrings glint in the sunlight, Dani's ass swaying in her jeans-

"Here we are!"

Without Jamie noticing, lovestruck as she was, they had gone through a parking lot and over sand dunes, and now the deep, white-capped blue of the Pacific Ocean stretched out in front of them, with no end in sight.

"Oh," Jamie breathed. "Oh, wow."

This time it was her leading the way, Dani trailing behind her, their hands still clasped together loosely. Jamie had never seen the Pacific before; had grown up with the Atlantic in driving distance, but hadn't had a real reason to spend much time there. She had always been anchored to the earth, never the sea, but the vast expanse before her took her breath away. It was all part of the natural world that Jamie loved, that she surrounded herself with and took care of. Just a different part.

"Poppins," Jamie said, unable to keep the awe from her voice. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah," Dani said, sounding strangely far away, and Jamie knew if she turned her head, she would see Dani gazing at her adoringly, like a scene out of a bad romance movie. And once upon a time, she had. She had turned her head, had met Dani's gaze, had pulled her forwards and nearly kissed her, but stopped at the last minute, remembering the shout from the street. Had instead turned on her heel and raced down towards the water, dragging a laughing Dani behind her, and plunged in, not caring they were in their clothes, trying to wash away a memory of another plunge into cold water.

She knew she had done all of that, once. She could taste the salt on her tongue, feel the chill of the water on her skin. But here, now, in this moment, her eyes had landed on something in the water, and her entire body had frozen, standing at the edge of the surf. The sun seemed to suddenly hide behind a cloud, and an ill wind whipped Jamie's curls around her head.

"Dani," she said. "Dani, do you see that?"

There was no answer. Jamie turned, only to find Dani gone. In fact, the beach was empty now. Jamie was alone.

Well. Not completely alone.

Slowly, she looked back at the water. The creature stood, waist-deep, eyeless face turned in her direction. It did not seem to notice the waves, or the wind that now gusted, and it did not move. Jamie fought the urge to run, terrified that any movement would cause the thing to come after her. Why was it here? Why was it just standing there? Why wasn't it at the bottom of that lake where it had dragged Dani-

Wait.

Unbidden, Jamie took a step forward. The water soaked her shoes immediately, washing up and over her ankles. Another step, and it was at the cuffs of her jeans now, shoes sinking into the sand. Another, and another, and another, until she was standing up to her knees, entire body trembling, staring at the The Lady in the Lake with wide eyes.

"I'm supposed to be doing something," Jamie said to her. "I'm here for a reason."

The Lady in the Lake said nothing.

"It's there, on the tip of my tongue." Jamie let out a frustrated breath. "At the back of my brain. Just-"

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

October 2000

Her clothes were still wet when she arrived back at the hotel room. She stripped them almost as soon as the door closed, and stumbled into the shower, standing under the spray and staring at the wall. She only turned it off when the water turned cold, and she was pretty sure there were no more tears in her eyes. She towelled herself off, and dug through the little overnight bag she'd thrown together haphazardly as she rushed out the door an eternity earlier.

Rushed out the door after Dani, who had been long gone by then.

She hadn't packed any sleep shorts in her hurry, so she threw on some underwear, and an old shirt. The scent of it hit her immediately, and a fresh wave of tears started to fall. It was an old shirt of Dani's. One she'd worn a million times, even after the armpits were getting a bit threadbare.

Dani, who was lying at the bottom of a lake.

She went through the motions of getting ready for bed. She didn't have a toothbrush, so she just rinsed her mouth out with water, and splashed her face. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror - red-eyed, pale-faced - and paused, staring. Hoping against hope that another face would appear. Like had happened so often back home, in their little apartment, when Dani looked in a mirror, or into water, or into a pane of glass. Maybe Jamie's cry in the lake had worked, and maybe instead of that monster she would see-

Just let me have this, Jamie thought, not taking her eyes off her own reflection. It's you, it's me, it's us. Let me have this, Dani.

But nothing appeared, and Jamie shut the light of the bathroom off, and climbed into bed.

She didn't sleep. To sleep meant two things. First, it meant waking up again, into another day in a world where Dani wasn't. Where Jamie was just expected to keep living her life without her wife by her side. What would she even do? Go home? To their little apartment filled with memories? To the flower shop? Keep living the little life they had built together? Alone?

How could she be expected to do that?

Sleep also meant dreams, and Jamie was possibly more frightened of that than waking up. Dreaming could mean seeing Dani again, whether alive and happy, or dead, staring at her with lifeless eyes at the bottom of a lake. Neither option was appealing in the slightest, so Jamie lay awake, staring at the clock as it ticked towards midnight.

She deemed 5 o'clock in the morning as good a time as any to wake up. Or at least, get out of bed, as waking up implied she had slept at all. She supposed she would go to the airport, and get on a plane back to Vermont, decide what to do from there. Dani would want her to keep going.

It was as she mechanically got ready to leave that she found it. Dani's note, folded up with her passport, thrown in her bag along with anything else she thought she might need. It had fallen out when she changed, and for a moment, Jamie just gazed at it. Then, she knelt down, and opened it with trembling fingers, reading the last words Dani had left her.

Jamie,

The beast has come for me. Viola is calling, and I have to answer, or I don't know what could happen. I can't risk that anything would happen to you, my most important person. I love you. I'm so sorry.

Dani

If only she had woken up. If only she had stopped her. Convinced her that it was ok, that they would figure it out together. If only she had been able to figure out a solution before Viola took her. If only Owen had driven a little faster that night, thirteen years ago. If only she had run a little faster towards the lake. If only she had stayed the night when Dani asked. If only, if only, if -

Viola?

Jamie frowned as she scanned the note, the name standing out to her as strange, unknown. Viola? Who was Viola? Where had that come from?

Water dripped on the carpet in front of her. Jamie found herself looking at mud-covered feet, eyes tracing a soaking wet nightdress up until they reached the face - that terrible, terrible face.

She felt like she should scream. Scream and run from the room. Or better yet, attack the monster and hope she could get a few good licks in before it dragged her down too.

But she didn't.

Jamie stood slowly, hand still clutching the note, staring at the creature in front of her. The creature did nothing. Simply stood, as though waiting for Jamie to make the first move.

And so, Jamie did.

"Viola?"

[marueonmain]

WINDFLOWER

part two ~ a residual humming ~

(part one) (part two)

A/N: I wanted to write this second part and get it out as soon as possible. I hope you like it! I have messages/asks open for comments or questions. Be safe!

Summary: George bullies Alex about him mooning over Y/N. Sammy is a bit abrasive, but he gets along with the lads. 

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Some Language. More of My Writing. 

Word Count: 2.2k

Upon entering his apartment, Alex was met with the smell of burning. He turned into the kitchen to see George's back as he stood over the hob with a grim-looking cheese toastie set in a pan.

George did not move when Alex walked in, nor did he indicate he was aware Alex was watching him. His eyes were glued on the sandwich as he poked at it with a wooden spoon, nudging it to be better. But it was too far gone to turn out any better than just edible.

At Alex clearing his throat, George asked, "Where've you been?"

"I grabbed some lunch at Five Guys." He pulled at the collar of his shirt, fanning himself. Taking a bar seat, he continued, "I would've offered to bring something back for you if I'd thought about it."

"Don't worry; no one expects you to think, Alex." George flipped the hob off and turned around to grab a plate set out on the counter. He used the wooden spoon to scrape the toastie from the pan as the burnt cheese clung on.

Neither spoke as George performed this careful and intricate extraction.

Though it was just so entertaining to watch his flatmate work around his terrible cooking skills, Alex found his thoughts wandering off. It was subconscious thinking. Or can thinking be subconscious versus conscious? Alex was not sure. All he knew was he was not thinking about what to think. Nor were his thoughts connecting along with one another. It was random.

Sparks of this feeling and that. Questions neither answered nor fully asked before another came along. Mostly, it was him reviewing everything he said earlier to Sammy and Y/N.

“Why go by Red?” Why did I ask that? Stupid.

While a small voice shouted, it worked out! There was too much of a ruckus elsewhere in his mind to give that small voice a chance.

Plate in hand, George started in the direction of his bedroom perhaps in hopes he could eat in peace while hunched over his keyboard like a gremlin.

"You know quiche?" Alex piped up.

"It's like egg-casserole, innit?"

"Right. It's a breakfast food, wouldn't you think?"

"Eggs normally are, yes." George stopped, and it was there in his eyes, the realization that he would not be escaping a conversation. He turned to take a bar seat and began eating in small quick bites. Like a mouse.

"I invited someone round to watch football with us later."

"Who? You don't have friends besides Will and them lot."

"I met him this afternoon. His name's Sam, but he goes by Sammy."

"How did you manage to shut up long enough to catch his name?" George coughed on his food – tasting the evident lack of love cooked into it. "And why does he sound like a golden retriever?"

"He is blond like a retriever. He and Y/N are moving-in right above us."

"Is this Y/N coming too?" George waggled his eyebrow.

The knowledge that George had a girlfriend and more so the identity of said girlfriend was on a need to know basis. As were most aspects of George's life: surname, physical appearance, etc. He knew just as well as anyone that Alex was alone – not a sad kind of alone but a neutral kind.

A girlfriend (or boyfriend) could be fantastic for views. But he did not need one. He was a functioning adult. Independent financially and physically. With an exceptional support system of friends. Alex was full and complete by himself.

And he believed that because it was true.

However, it did not stop him from yearning. It did not stop him from feeling like he might sleep better if he had someone's chest to cuddle; it did not stop him from imagining it was someone else's fingers running through his hair in moments of grief.

"Y/N is Sammy's girlfriend, and she wasn't into me—it rather. She wasn't into it."

"It's his girlfriend, mate. Of course, she isn't into you."

"Not like that. Y/N didn't even look at me, like me being there was making her ill."

"What did you expect? To go-" George, in his mocking, pitched his voice higher, "Hello, I'm internet sensation imallexx, and she falls to her knees to start sucking you off?"

Alex made a face, letting his features relax into a deadpan expression.

George continued unbothered, "Why do you care if the girlfriend likes you?"

"It wasn't dislike; it was discomfort. I'm not someone who makes people uncomfortable, am I? That doesn't make sense, not with all those imallexx is baby edits and uwu soft boi collages."

"Uwu soft boi?"

"Piss off. You know what I mean."

Giggling to himself, George finished eating and stood up. He took his plate, dropping it into the sink, he caught Alex's expression – still somber.

Seriousness was not something either flatmate expressed on the regular, or if it was, it would not be for long. There might be some argument to be made there. That neither man felt comfortable in serious situations because their insecurities about being shorter than average (or about having generous natures) made it difficult for them to see themselves as worth being taken seriously.

Or maybe that argument would be off base and a load of shit—who knows.

"Everyone I've seen you meet in person liked you – just got one of those likable faces, I guess. Plus, you're entertaining and that. I've never known you to make people uncomfortable." George paused. "You'd have to be a real dick to go after another bloke's girl. But I'm sure she'd like talking to you again...if that's what you wanted."

"I don't know what I want to happen, George."

"Well, figure it out. And if Sam does opt into a few rounds of FIFA, I'm not letting him beat me."

"It's Sammy."

"Ok." George walked in the direction of his bedroom. "Sammy. Sammy. I can remember that."

~LATER~

It was adrenaline-fueled cheers, heated debates over pizza toppings, clever and scathing remarks, all in addition to an absurd amount of drinking. And the aftermath was a residual humming of endorphins.

Newcastle lost: no surprise there.

Electronic noises sounded from the television at full volume but, having to travel through the thick wave of inebriation and exhaustion in the room, it all registered as dull pings. Will and George were the two holding controllers and involved in the head-to-head battle unfolding on-screen.

Sitting next to one another on the sofa highlighted the stark differences in their composure and dedication. George sat leaning forward enough to be considered doubled over with an iron grip on his controller. Will leaned back with one hand on the controller and the other taking the occasional swig from the beer he otherwise held between his legs.

Throwing back drink after drink, Sammy occupied the third sofa cushion. He admitted earlier in the night that he never played FIFA before; he watched the television with interest and set focus. Blush and all, he looked alert and strong even after winning the shot contest between himself and James.

James – on the other hand – was flat on his back on the floor in front of the coffee table with his eyes closed. He had not spoken up in a while, but Alex was sure he was still awake – like 60% sure.

"—in the frame for half a second. If that!" Alex struggled to control the volume of his voice as he spoke with excitement, "And not twelve hours later, I see a screenshot of them on a fetish instagram account."

"What the fuck?" Sammy laughed through the question.

"That's what I said!"

Will, confident he could win against George without paying much attention, spoke up, "I tried to go legit with selling feet pics once for a video."

Sammy's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

"Swear on my life." Will crossed his heart with his hand.

"It was with socks on." Alex stood up from the armchair and stumbled to the kitchen to pour himself another shot. Deciding on a clear liquor, he poured and downed it before finishing his thought, "Having socks on—that's not the same. Not at all."

"Nice dress-socks! I had production value, I did. Unlike you with those hobbit feet."

Alex held himself steady against the kitchen counter. With ears lit up red like traffic lights, he stared into the air with a blank expression for half a minute before shaking his head as if coming up from some dark, treacherous waters. Gaining some composure, he shuffled back to the armchair and collapsed onto it. He said his peace on the issue, "Don't be an ass."

"The only fun way to be," Will muttered as he knocked back a bit of his beer.

Despite watching Alex cross the room with particular concern, Sammy reentered the conversation in a casual tone and manner. "Wait. Your feet are just out there in the open for weird foot fetish guys to jack off to?"

"Guys jack off to Alex all the time," said George. He did not remove his eyes from the television as the electronic sounds coming from the game took a discordant turn. "He's an LGBT icon."

Alex gritted his teeth at the comment. "Stop."

"Oh?" From the sofa, Sammy raised his head, shifting his posture and pulling himself up into a proper seated position. "You're gay?"

George started, "Well, he's b—"

"Yes." Alex cut him off. Sometimes it was easier to just be “gay” than to get specific with someone who might not understand or even accept further explanation.

It went quiet, save the electronic noises of George getting his ass kicked at FIFA. George, too focused on losing and being offended from getting cut-off, and James having been down for the count for the last hour, were unaware of the turn the conversation had taken and were spared from the rising uneasiness.

Will and Alex were in the thick of it. Alex shot worried glances in Will's direction. Will set his jaw and nodded with reassurance back to Alex.

Sammy breathed out an, "Oh."

"Is that an issue?" Alex asked.

"God, no. It's a relief!" Sammy slouched into the back of the sofa. "Don't have to be worried about you trying to chat up Red."

Will looked agitated (maybe at the choice of words or the hesitation). His forehead scrunched-up, and his posture tensed with rigid shoulders and arms. He asked with a forced ‘normal-sounding’ tone, "Who's Red?"

"My girlfriend – she's a fucking bitch, but like my bitch, you know?"

Alex was not sure which part of the whole thing he was most uncomfortable with...until he decided. It was the bitch comment. 

It was the bitch comment by far.

No one in that room – as far as he knew – had ever straight-out name called their girlfriend like that. Not George about [REDACTED]. Not Will about Mia. Not James about Aria. And certainly not Alex about his past partners.

To be fair there were a handful of times, he or his friends had considered how their partner was acting as being bitchy. Still at the heart of all their relationships was a respect for the other person and the courtesy to not leave for the evening (to watch football or whatever) without at least attempting to work things out – smooth things over even the tiniest amount.

"I thought her name was Y/N," said George.

Sammy hurled an expression that asked how would you know and all but dared George to ask him another question. "It is. But when we met, I called her Red, and now she goes by Red."

"Why?"

Sammy ignored that George had spoken at all. Luckily, it was just a few awkward seconds between Sammy clamming up and someone else speaking.

"Mac 'n cheese! Fuck!" James shouted as his eyes shot open, and he sat up from the floor. "Doesn't mac 'n cheese sound good right now?" He turned his attention to Alex and snapped finger guns at him. "You have any mac 'n cheese?"

"No, James," Alex growled; he rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes with too much pressure.

Sammy interjected with cheerfulness in his voice, "I like mac 'n cheese with some marshmallow fluff."

"Fuck yes!" James whipped around to face Sammy (whom he probably did not recognize at that moment nor remember meeting just hours before) and somehow got louder. "We gotta get some!"

"Let's go." Sammy did not move to stand.

"You're so chill," mumbled James. As unexpected as it was for him to pop-up, James hit the ground again, closing his eyes. He was out.

"Anyone willing to be talked at by Alex for an entire evening has got to be," remarked George with a humorless laugh.

"Reel it back a bit," Will warned before Alex might have come back with something worse.

"Yeah," Sammy teased, "how much you down now, George? £200 last I checked."

"Will's cheating."

Will took a swig from his beer. "Mate, I'm too pissed to be cheating."

"Whatever."

"Check it." Will shifted in his seat as on-screen, he scored the final goal of the game. Triumphant electronic noises blasted from the television as he raised his long arms up in the air, pumping his fist once. twice. three times.

He got up to high-five Alex and Sammy, who wore over-excited smiles across their flushed faces. And just like that, the evening was over.

[jadekitty777]

Pier

Sorry I’m late y’all! Day 3 was not technically finished and I originally planned to just split the entry into two chapters and maybe finish this one off later but... instead my dumb ass was like: No! Finish it!

So I did and now it is past midnight. I am very tired and things may not be edited properly.

I also gave up the secret on this one to a few readers... this entry is actually a continuation to Umbrella, which I had written a few weeks back. I do recommend reading that one first.

Day 3: Family

Dedicated to: @chiherah/@chiherahcreations

Rating: K+

Pairing: Qrow/Clover, Raven/Tai/Summer

Word Count: 5k

Ao3 Link: Pier

Summary: Every year, it was a tradition for Qrow to head up to Lake Bowen and spend the holidays with his sister's family. It was not, generally, tradition to bring a boyfriend along for the ride. [Modern AU]

~

Qrow flicked on his turn signal, fingers drumming a nervous rhythm over the steering wheel as he waited for the light to turn. Usually, he was relieved once he’d hit this stoplight, as it acted as a beacon marking the last leg of the grueling four-and-a-half hour drive it took to get from his little apartment in Wilmington to his sister’s grand cottage in Lake Bowen. It was a chance to finally stretch out his legs and get tackled down by his little gremlin nieces who would spend the majority of the next three days begging to know what he got them for Christmas. He’d get a glass of iced tea and a hug from Tai and a kiss on the cheek and a cookie from Summer before they both banished him from the kitchen. Spent the better part of the waning afternoon munching on finger food while catching up with Raven and entertaining Yang and Ruby as they tried to tug him into half a dozen different games.

At least, that’s how it was supposed to go.

But typically he didn’t have someone else with him.

“Everything alright?” That same someone else who had also easily picked up on his growing anxiety.

“Yeah, fine.” He said gruffly, turning left as the light finally changed.

“That was convincing.” There was a rustling as Clover set aside the newspaper he’d been reading (the dork had to be one of the last of the dozen living humans left to have a subscription), turning his full attention on him. “Come on babe, what’s on your mind?”

He glanced at him and it was a mistake, because there was no way he could argue when looking into those earnest teal eyes – especially when looking through those cute, wire-rim reading glasses. He sighed, fingers starting up their drum solo once more. “I just want this week to go well.”

“Why do you think it won’t?”

“Because,” He faltered, chewing on the edge of his lip. “My sister’s side of the family isn’t exactly what you’d call normal.”

“So you’ve said, about a thousand times.” Clover replied, “And as I’ve said a thousand and one times, it’s fine. I’m not gonna start judging the people you love just because they aren’t a traditional nuclear family.”

Qrow gave a noncommittal hum. Kept drumming.

He wasn’t really worried about that – though, he didn’t quite forget the nightmare when one of his partners tried to exposit some ‘helpful advice’ about the Rose-Xiao Long-Branwen family’s living situation. Raven had near about shoved the carving knife in Kimi’s chest when she tried to enlighten to Summer how three people sleeping in the same bed will give the children questionable ideas. After getting thoroughly screamed at by three furious adults, his girlfriend had run out of the house in tears – and stole his car to get away from his ‘crazy fucking family’. It had taken him a good two months to get it back, and he certainly didn’t get her back with it. Not that it was a great loss.

Come to think of it, that disaster was the last time he’d braved bringing anyone by at all. Ruby hadn’t even been talking yet.

“Alright,” Clover’s voice broke him from his thoughts. “Let’s try something different. What’s the biggest thing you’re afraid of?”

“Snakes.”

A snort. “Qrow.”

“I mean, it is.” He guaranteed. “They’re scaly and slithery and gross and Raven put one in my bed when I was ten and I never forgave her for it.”

Clover gave his arm a light smack. “About the meeting, birdbrain.”

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Oh, bird insults, how original.”

“I’m a classics kind of guy.”

“You are not Mr. I-haven’t-seen-anything-made-before-the-80s.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

He opened his mouth, then shut it. Frowned at the street they were driving over. “It’s just, what if they don’t like you?”

His boyfriend tilted his head. “All of them?”

His fingers clenched over the wheel. “What if you don’t like them?”

“All of them?” He echoed with a touch more amusement.

He grunted, slouching low. “Okay I get it, I’m being dumb.”

“No, you’re not. It’s normal to be stressed out about this. I was just trying to point out your fears are probably getting the better of you. Do you really believe all of us are going to just hate each other?” Clover refuted gently. Qrow liked that about him, how he could so easily retrack his mind out of the harmful places they tended to journey to.

“Maybe not all of you. But Raven? Definitely.” He grunted. “She hasn’t liked a single person I’ve dated, ever.”

“Um.”

He shot him a look. “What?”

Clover grinned guiltily in return. “We’ve talked about some of the people you’ve dated and your track record isn’t the best.”

Mildly offended, he snipped back, “Oz was a good one!”

“The guy with four kids?”

“It wasn’t that he had four kids, it was that he lied about having four kids.” When all he got was an arched a brow as if to say ‘that’s better?’, Qrow scowled. “Shut up.”

Clover laughed. It wasn’t long before he was laughing with him. He liked this about him too, how an air of comfort always seemed to surround his boyfriend. He was always ready to lighten the mood with a joke, a smile or his laugh, which even after the seven months they’d been dating, Qrow was still utterly captivated by. More than that, he was slowly coming to the realization he didn’t want to go a day without it – or without Clover.

He knew things were getting serious, which was why he so desperately needed this week to go well. He needed his family to support his new relationship and he needed Clover to accept his strange little family. Because if he got those two simple things, then he would see there was a possibility for a future in which Clover was part of his family.

He knew that fateful meeting was coming closer as he spotted the last landmark they had to cross before they would find themselves at the house. “There’s the bridge.”

As they started over the lake, it was comically cartoonish how he could practically see the sparkle effect in Clover’s eyes as he plastered his face against the window. With no traffic behind them, Qrow slowed the car down to give him a chance to really take it in.

Once, when he’d been invited on yet another date to the beach, he’d joked that Clover was just like his namesake because, as a weed, it was only natural he’d want to suck up as much of the surrounding water as possible. It wasn’t just the sea he was completely enamored by, but also lakes, ponds, rivers, marshes, and anything and everything in between. Heck, even their first true meeting was thanks to his obsession – Clover eventually admitted the only reason he’d left early that day was because he wanted to go out and enjoy the rain.

“As luck would have it, I got to enjoy some great company along with it.” He had said with a wink.

Qrow wouldn’t say he necessarily understood it, but it was impossible not to enjoy the excited way Clover would go on about subglacial lakes or tell stories about how he used to catch newts whenever spring came around and tried to keep them as pets. Topics that he probably would otherwise have found boring was different seeing it through the lens of someone so passionate – and Qrow knew he was just the same whenever he talked about fencing or birds. He still recalled the night their interests made a rare alignment, when they ended up having a long talk about Kingfishers.

He knew if he told anyone about that night, they’d probably just laugh and tell him how dull it sounded. And yet, for him, it remained as one of his favorite dates.

“Man, how incredible it must be just to live out here.” Clover said after they’d made their way across, the lake giving way to land once more and opening into a very small business district. “How does your sister’s family afford it?”

“It’s inherited. Tai’s uncle willed it to him when he passed.” He took a left, heading up towards the lakeside neighborhood. The street itself narrowed considerably, and spindly, white-trunked ash trees flanked them from either side.

“His uncle did?” He echoed, not hiding his confusion.

“Yeah. I don’t know all the details but he basically raised him. So, I guess he was more like his surrogate dad than anything.” Qrow explained, feeling his anxiety spike as the two-story dwelling peeked between dense vegetation. “Heh, actually I’m pretty sure that’s why Tai’s so insistent I come visit so much. He probably invites me over more than my own sister does.” Scratch that, he definitely did.

He pulled down the driveway to the garage situated in the back. As the house was on the waterside, the front was facing towards the lake and the driveway and garage were in the rear. It was a bit strange, but he’d gotten used to it over the years, just like he’d gotten used to the fact the dwelling was one of the most unique in the neighborhood. Made to appear like a log cabin, it seemed more suited for a place in the middle of the woods or up in the mountaintops. Tai’s little sunflower garden framed either side of the doorway, and bushes of roses and birds of paradise were interspaced down the west and eastern sides of the house. From memory, he remembered the front had a large porch with an overhang and a path made of stones that led from the door down to the small, privately owned pier.

The engine was cut, and he heard the passenger door opening - but Qrow stared blankly at the dash, hoping the next ten seconds would be enough to mentally prepare him for the next seven days.

“Hey. Look at me.” Clover’s larger, tanner hander covered his own, thumb brushing over his knuckles that had whitened from their too-tight grip on the wheel. It took him a moment to tear his gaze from the touch to actually do as asked, and was consoled by the tender, reassuring smile his boyfriend gave him. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

He swallowed down the lump in his throat. “How are you so calm about this?”

“’Cause I’ve got you at my side. Just knowing you’re with me gives me courage.”

The words made his heart stutter. It stuttered again when Clover lent forward to kiss him. His eyes slipped closed, giving back as much as he was given. The strength he’d been looking for filled him so that when they finally pulled away and exited the car, the knot that had been in the pit of his stomach had loosened its hold considerably. Just in time, as faint barking from inside definitely announced their arrival, drawing his attention to the back door.

A second later, the screen door came flying open as his youngest niece came barreling out of it, screaming at the top of her lungs, “UNCLE QROW’S HERE!!”

It was hard to tell if the snickers on the other side of the car were from the seven-year old’s antics or perhaps from her odd sense of fashion, as she was sporting a long, red bathroom robe that he swore was Raven’s, what appeared to be an old Flash costume from Halloween, and a pirate’s hat. As she came racing towards him, he realized she also had on light-up shoes.

He lent down, scooping Ruby up and lifting her effortlessly. “Hey there pipsqueak.”

She snuggled into his shoulder. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too.” He kissed the top of her head. “So, what’s with this little getup?”

She pulled at the loose belt meant to hold the robe closed. “Mama said you might need saving, so I dressed the part.”

“Did she now?” He carefully kept the annoyance off his face but oh, was he so getting his sister back for that.

“Uh-huh! I’m Rapid Ruby, at your service!” She tipped her hat.

Before Qrow could think up an appropriate response, a coo of ‘Ooh who’s this little guy?’ drew his attention towards his boyfriend. The man was kneeling on the ground, accepting little licks from what was certainly not a little guy. In fact, it had to be the fattest corgi he’d ever seen in his life. The poor thing was shaped exactly like a swiss roll cake and colored like one too.

“That’s Zwei! Mommy brought him from her office.” His niece chirped brightly, but when Clover looked up at her, she shrunk against Qrow’s neck, trying to hide. His hero.

He rubbed her back soothingly. “Ruby, this is Clover. You remember me talking to you about him over the phone right?” She only gave a little whine. “He’s left-handed, like you.”

That got her to lift her face, looking at the man with a wary curiosity. “Do you have to use special scissors too?”

“I do.” Clover smiled at her, still kneeling on the ground so he appeared less threatening. Or maybe he just wanted to get more kisses from the dog, it was hard to tell.

“And can openers are dumb, right?”

“The dumbest.”

“And, and!” She tapped her chin, thinking hard. “Have you ever taken your mommy’s tea by accident during lunch and had to spit it out cause it’s gross?”

He chuckled. “Not tea, but I did take a swig of my dad’s whiskey once.”

Ruby spat out her tongue. “Yucky!”

“Yeah, it really was.”

“Well,” An orotund voice cut in. “It’s nice to see everyone getting along out here.”

Mostly content to just watch the two’s adorable exchange, Qrow hadn’t notice the newcomer who had stepped outside, a welcoming grin spread on Tai’s face as he approached.

Newcomers, he amended, as he spotted Raven watching them from the threshold.

He juggled Ruby carefully, holding out an arm to accept the side hug his brother-in-law gave him. “Good to see you brother.”

“You too. Glad you could make it.” Tai ruffled his hair before he pulled away to shake Clover’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you! Qrow’s told us a lot.”

“Likewise.”

Before things could potentially get awkward, Qrow cleared his throat. “So Tai, what’s with the cake roll?”

The blond glanced back at him, then down at the dog who plopped down at his feet. “Zwei? Someone dropped him off a few weeks ago. No tags or chip. And you know Summer, she just couldn’t leave him to starve in a cage.”

“Think starving’s the least of his problems.” He grumbled under his breath.

“She’s a vet, right?” Clover spoke up.

“Yeah, we run a little place together. But you’d swear, with how many animals get abandoned there that we’re actually the town shelter.” Tai joked. “We usually end up fostering the ones in need of special care.”

Ruby tugged at his shirt collar, excitement sparkling in her eyes. “Daddy says we’re gonna keep him.”

“No. Daddy said we will discuss keeping it.” Raven chided across the yard, still barring the door like a sphinx waiting for the right answer.

“But maaaa!” Ruby started to wiggle enough that Qrow let her down so she could run over and plead her case.

Now out of earshot, Tai lent over and whispered, “We’re putting a collar and leash in Yang’s stocking and some dog toys in Ruby’s.”

“Bet that thrills Raven.” He murmured back. She’d never been much of an animal person.

“It was her idea.” His eyebrows shot up in surprise, but before he could comment, his brother was slapping him on the shoulder, continuing on in a louder tone, “Alright, how ‘bout we get your guys’ stuff inside so y’all can settle in?”

While Raven brought Ruby and Zwei inside to keep them out of the way, the trunk was popped and the luggage pulled out. Between the three of them, they were able to juggle their bags and the box of gifts inside, the latter being dropped off next to the heavily decorated Christmas tree the moment they entered the great room. As Tai led them towards the stairs, Qrow took a peek at the archway that lead to the kitchen, and though he only caught the back of Summer’s head, he could smell the delectable scents of whatever she was preparing wafting in from here.

“We only have one guest room, so I apologize the accommodations aren’t the best.” Tai was saying after they’d set the bags inside the guest room. The words were entirely for Clover’s sake, as he never said them when Qrow came here alone. Perhaps because the room only housed one bed.

Clover was too preoccupied swooning over the window nook that overlooked the lake to notice such a trivial detail. “I think it’s perfect.”

What a dork. Qrow rolled his eyes, having to fight the smile from his face.

“So, Qrow tells me you like to fish.”

Oh god, now they were never going to shut up. While they chatted, Qrow ducked out of the room to use the bathroom. By the time he was passing by his room again, Tai and Clover were chatting about lure types, so he decided to make his way back to the ground floor, passing Zwei laying in his doggy bed by the couch, and entered into the kitchen where all the girls had collected in.

Raven was at one side, frosting sugar cookies before handing them over to Ruby who was sitting on the counter. Her job was to decorate each cookie with little chocolate chips, peppermint crunch, or cinnamon bites before setting them on the plate (and both were stealing candy pieces to munch on). Opposite them, Yang was standing on a stool to be tall enough to reach the counter, vigorously peeling through carrots before handing them off to Sumer, who chopped them into smaller pieces with the vegetable knife before adding them into a pot. The oven was on, the faint outline of a cooking dish the likely culprit of what he’d gotten a whiff of coming inside.

“Mmmm, I don’t even know where to start.” Qrow said more to announce his presence than anything.

“There you are, you scoundrel! Was beginning to think you weren’t gonna come say hello.” Summer chastised as she walked over to him, Irish accent thick as ever.

He knelt down to accept his cheek kisses. “Thought you woulda appreciated me not immediately invading your kitchen for once.” Tiny, strong arms found their way around his waist. He dropped his hand into golden curls, smiling down at his other niece. “Hey there firecracker.”

She pressed her chin into his ribs, giving him a stern stare that made her look so much like his sister. “I’m making dinner tonight, so you better like it!”

“I’m sure with you behind the helm, it’ll be wonderful.” He snorted. A threat as a greeting hadn’t been his expectation.

She was grinning now, giving one more, “You better!” before hurrying back to her station.

“She’s really excited.” Summer explained, following her. As he poured himself a glass of sweet tea from the pitcher sitting on the island, she asked, “So where’s yer lad? I was hoping to get a good gander at him.”

He leant back against the counter next to his sis as he replied, “Tai got him talking about fishing, so he’s never coming down.”

They were probably sharing different casting methods right now. Not that he could complain – he figured Clover would hit it off with Tai immediately. Similar hobbies aside, they both had easy-going, friendly personalities which tended to blend well with small talk. Knowing he’d also managed to get his shy niece to talk to him so freely was also a bit of a blessing.

But the real problem was the woman currently bumping her shoulder against his. “Fair warning, Tai’s been filling his pocketbook with every fish pun he can think of.”

“And you let him?” He squawked, utterly scandalized.

She replied, completely straight-faced, “They’re reel good.”

Qrow blinked. Blinked again. Deadpanned, “I’m not related to you anymore.”

“Good, get out.”

They glared at one another, the seconds ticking by.

Raven broke first, turning away to hide her smile.

“Hah, I win!” He took a cookie as his trophy.

“Mommy, they’re being dumb again.” He heard Yang murmur.

“Yeah, they’re a buncha dopes.” Though it was meant to be an insult, Summer’s tone was nothing but endearing.

Before Qrow could think of an appropriate comeback, the sound of heavy steps on the stairs and chatter drew attention towards the entryway.

“Then it just smacked me right in the face! I was so shocked it just fell right out of my hands and back in the water.” Tai was saying.

“Well that’s one way to lose a fish.” Clover laughed heartily.

As they entered the room, it was hard to miss the blond’s smirk as he replied, “It’s alright, I’m quite good at catching other types.”

“And dear, what other types are those?” Raven spoke up.

He winked her way. “Types like you babe.”

She looked unimpressed, but Summer started to giggle. “I mean, if you like swordfish.”

“Ut-! Excuse you! I’m a shark.”

Qrow snorted. “A goblin shark, maybe.”

“Careful, you’re in stabbing distance.”

He shifted away, just in case.

Tai was chuckling, nodding to her. “Clover, the shark is my lovely wife Raven and our daughter Ruby.” He waved to the other side of the room. “And this is my other lovely wife, Summer and our daughter Yang.”

“I’m the cook today!” Yang said proudly, brandishing a tiny knife at him. “You better like dinner!”

“Honey, don’t point with the knife. That’s rude.” Summer chastised.

“Oh, sorry.” She set it down to point with a carrot instead. “Now you better like dinner.”

To his credit, Clover managed not to laugh, only saluting her. “Yes ma’am. Thank you for your hard work.”

“Good. If you don’t lie about it, then I like you.” Yang decided before turning back to her work.

Her father pat her on the head as he walked by. “Clover would you like anything? Water? Sweet tea?”

“Water would be wonderful, thank you.” He replied, taking the opportunity to slip over to Qrow’s side.

“So, you’re an Irish lad?” Summer asked.

Qrow winced. He was afraid that would be the first thing she’d dig at. The other woman had been born and raised in Ireland, and had initially only come to the states to study Veterinarian work on an apprenticeship at Cornell Uni. She had had plans to return to her homeland – until she met Raven and Tai, both of whom were also studying at Cornell under a scholarship.

The rest of that incredible and confusing love story Qrow was told through long distance telephone calls while take his own, more modest level courses at UNC Wilmington. He remembered how certain he had been that the two were just pulling his leg the entire time until he actually had Summer standing right in front of him, rather than the ghost of a person his sibling and best friend were feeding him.

He’d liked her immediately. She was funny, quick-witted and extremely compassionate, especially towards animals (“Ravens especially,” she always joked). She was easy to get along with, even if she herself could be a bit meek – but touch anything about her culture with even a hint of pretentious air and a bit of her own brashness would come out as she happily kicked someone down a few pegs.

While trepidation settled in his gut, as inconspicuously as possible, he slid his hand into Clover’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

His boyfriend didn’t seem to share his worry, lips only quirking upwards, squeezing his hand back as he answered, “Yeah, on my mom’s side.”

“Did she name you for the shamrock or for the four-leaf clover?”

“The four-leaf.” He took the glass of water as Tai handed it to him, continuing, “I was uh, apparently not expected to make it to term, so my parents always considered me a ‘lucky’ birth. My mother thought naming me Clover was perfect because of that and her heritage. She didn’t know there was a difference. My pa actually told me it started this whole big feud between her and her grandparents because it had offended them so much.”

As they continued to converse, Qrow exhaled softly.

Any air left whooshed out of him as fifty pounds of child thumped against his back. “Uncle Qrooow, this is boring. Can we go play video games?”

“Uh,” He hesitated. He’d never really been one to deny his youngest niece, but he couldn’t just leave his boyfriend to the wolves, so to speak.

A thumb brushed along his knuckles. Clover was still preoccupied by whatever Summer was saying, but he gave him a side-eye and a small smile, before letting his hand go.

Taking that sign, Qrow conceded. “Alright kiddo, jump on.”

“Yes!” She clung to him as he hitched her onto his back and carried her out to the living room, where he let her pick the game.

They jumped around as bubble-blowing dragons until dinner.

~

Qrow liked to think of his vacation mornings as perfectly lazy.

He would roll out of bed maybe at 8 or 9, spend the next twenty minutes milling about sleepily as he took care of his bathroom routine and shuffled through what clothes he wanted to wear. He had it down to an art, wherein he was usually the last to make it downstairs and sometimes no one would see him until after 10. He’d probably benefit from setting at least one alarm so he could enjoy an extra few hours with his family every day – but why fix what wasn’t broken?

Problem was, when his bedmate was 90% of the reason he was staying warm at night and said bedmate was a ridiculously early riser, it was hard to stay asleep longer than twenty minutes past when he’d vacate the space.

So, Qrow found himself shuffling into the kitchen a little after 7, the smell of brewing coffee guiding him to the pot. Everyone else was bound to be awake soon, but for now the only other person in the room was his sister.

“Morning.” She greeted.

“G’mornin’.” He returned, fetching down a mug. “Where’s Clover?”

Raven inclined her head towards the window. “On the dock, somehow not freezing to death.”

He glanced out, seeing the dark outline of his boyfriend sitting right at the edge of the pier, waiting patiently for the sun to rise. He hadn’t even bothered to put on any additional layers, still in the tank top and shorts he’d gone to bed in.

Qrow had a feeling this would be the running theme for the week. With anyone else, he probably would have found it annoying; instead, all he felt was fondness.

The microwave beeping had his eyes pulling away, watching as his sister took out a mug of steaming water. As she steeped her tea, she said, “He’s a real interesting one.”

“Is that a lead in to how you’re about to tell me everything wrong with him?”

“Hmm, well,” She stretched out the word like a car engine getting ready to gun it down the street. “He’s got really stupid hair.”

Here we go. Qrow sighed. Turned away to pour his coffee as he waited.

And waited.

And…

…

He looked up from the cutlery drawer to her, seeing her watching him with unadulterated amusement. “Wait, that’s it?”

She shrugged. “That’s it.”

“You actually like him?”

“No.” She clipped easily. “He’s a bit too much of a model boy scout type and I think that’s annoying. But, I like the you that you are when you’re with him.”

He went back to his silverware search. “Uh, meaning?”

Raven rolled her eyes. “You’re happier with him, stupid.”

“Hold up.” Qrow waved a spoon in the air, “I’m calling bullshit on that one. I was happy with my other partners before this.”

“You also weren’t any less happy without them. It’s, just different, okay?” She ran a hand through her hair, “Tch, you know I’m not any good at this.”

For as little as his sister was saying though, he could hear the paragraphs hidden in between. She’d been with him his whole life; had seen every stupid decision he’d ever made. Like how he was convinced that Sienna was the love of his life when they were only seventeen and when she ultimately dumped him, he acted like his entire life was over. Or at twenty-one, when he had been so convinced that Roman was The One, he asked him to marry him only six months into their relationship – only to find out the guy had a criminal record. Then there were disasters, like Kimi.  Broken trusts, like Oz. Incompatibilities, like Winter, Robyn, Tukson.

There were joys in all of them – but looking back, he didn’t regret the breaks either.

“Nah, I get it.” Qrow stirred in the sugar. “Guess I’ve had pretty shit luck when it comes to relationships, huh?”

“It all went to the better twin.” She joked back, holding up her tea to cheer herself before taking a sip.

“Oh, mom and dad found a long-lost triplet?”

He only laughed when she smacked his arm, ducking away before she could potentially continue her assault, taking his coffee with him. Her call of “Jerk!” followed him as he slipped out the back door. They may have found it unbearable at times to live with each other, but it was comforting to know she still looked out for him. He would thank her later.

For now though, he walked the length of the porch, following the stone path that gave way to wood and finally ended at Clover.

“Didn’t expect to see you up so early.” He greeted as Qrow sat down beside him.

He took a sip of the coffee before setting the mug down on the post next to him. “Well, my space heater left, so I came looking for it.”

“Sorry about that.” Clover wound an arm across his shoulders, drawing him in. “Better?”

He looked out across the lake, where the water was reflecting the colors of the lightening sky. Took in the horizon breathing in a new day, welcoming them to experience it together.

Qrow melted against the other, sincerely vowing, “It’s perfect.”

[impulse-writing]

it’s a wonderful life (8/?)

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7

There was a time when Yang thought raising her own children would be simple.

Maybe not easy, of course, Yang knew being responsible for an entire person would never be easy. But at least she thought it would be something familiar. Like retracing old steps, and remembering certain cues, after practically raising herself and Ruby as children. She was obviously better than Raven in that regard (the number one mother of the year)  and looking back, Yang liked to think she did an okay job. Neither she nor Ruby exploded. That counted as a good thing, right?

So when Blake finally told her the most wonderful news of her life, Yang approached the idea of parenthood with little hesitation, possessing none of the fear first time parents felt. Every tense emotion she had turned into excitement and anticipation. Yang felt ready, and like everything she did in her life, she went in headfirst and followed the same old beats that came to her like an instinct.

Change diaper, help mom feed the baby, sing them to sleep, keep them from making a fuss.

At least she managed to babyproof their home, she can handle a hammer just fine - some things were thankfully easier as an adult.

And now, after four glorious years of raising their own children, Yang couldn’t help but think, ah… yes –

“Remember that time when I thought raising kids would be simple?”

There were a few things she never expected that would prove her hideously wrong, even before their girls were born. The young couple never expected to take care of more than one baby at the same time, let alone multiple mini versions of herself and Mrs. Dark and Dangerous. She expected to toe dip into the situation, but fate was already laughing at them even before their first ultrasound, when the doctor told them they were having twins.

While Ruby grew up to be a rambunctions toddler who had a penchant for disappearing during random times of the day, resulting in her panicking sister elbow-deep in wild brambles or squeezed under a giant log, nothing could have prepared Yang for chasing around naked, wet, screaming toddlers across their backyard where their neighbors can see.

“C’mere you little gremlin.” Yang grabbed one squirming, soapy child in her arm like a slippery sack, butt up in the air and legs flapping. Her other arm accommodated her second child, who kept flopping around wildly like an angry fish over her shoulder.

“Unhand me, evil Grimm!”

They definitely learned that from their infamous Aunt Ruby.

“Not ‘til the little huntresses had their baths. Let’s get your butts back in the water.”

Yang enjoyed their whines of defeat and groans of ‘Nooo’ perhaps a little too much.

*****

It was like having several scroll apps running at the same time.

She had one arm dedicated to pulling socks over one toddler’s foot - because yes, something that simple did require an entire arm to utilize. The other arm was busy pulling a tiny jacket over Li’s head. Left foot in boot, stop right leg from kicking her in the eye. One of them clambered up onto her shoulders, before burying herself in their mother’s hair.

It wasn’t long until Yue was cuddled in her arms, already falling asleep as she basked in Yang’s natural warmth. Li sat on her shoulders, kicking her feet and grabbing fistfulls of golden locks.

“Everybody ready?”

A chorus of rambunctious ‘yeses’ made Yang bounce her girls in place.

“Gotta say g’bye to mommy.” Yang looked around. “Where’s mommy?”

“Here’s mommy. ”

Yang turned her head towards the staircase, smiling as she watched the love of her life climb down each step shakily. Judging by the robe she was wearing, and her adorable messy bedhead, Blake must have just woken up.

Yang reached for her, and pulled her in for a quick kiss.

“Promise me you’ll go back to bed after this?”

Blake stared at her. Yang almost preened, glad that she still had that effect on her wife.

“I make no promises.” Blake said, pulling herself away. She tugged her black robe tighter around herself, for the life of her looking unsure. “I’ll probably do something. Like… read?”

“Blake - “

Blake flinched.

Yang frowned, taking her hand and squeezing her fingers lightly. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine. I’m just…”

“Just?”

Blake cleared her throat, strangely looking out of her element as she stood in the middle of the hallway. “I’m just…”

“I get it. You’re worried about work again?”

“…. yes, work.”

“You need this day off, babe.” Yang said. “Your loyal underlings can handle your job for one day.”

“Right.”

Yang pulled her in for another kiss. She smiled over their parted lips in adoration. “Workaholic.”

“That’s me.”

“Read your new books, have a bubble bath, relax. You deserve this.” Yang said. “I can handle the little gremlins for a while. We’ll have a great time.”

“Okay.”

“And if you want us to come back in case you feel lonely, you know my number.” Yang winked.

Blake stared.

“Um. Will you be all right?”

“Yes. Sorry, I’m just tired.” Blake ran a hand over her face. “You’re right, I’ve been focusing too much on work and… the kids recently.”

“Mom?”

Yang looked up at eyes very much like hers, glaring at her. “Yes baby?”

“No more kissing!”

Yang laughed, taking a step away from her wife, watching in amusement as Blake’s face flushed red. “We’ll continue this later.” She said, this time missing Blake’s completely dazed expression.

“Okay, time to do a headcount! Li?”

“Let’s go let’s go I wanna see the lions!”

“Yue?”

Snore.

“Bo?”

Yang looked around.

“Bo? Oh.” She tugged open her coat and looked inside, relieved to see the eldest of the triplets already hugging her midsection; face huddled into her side. “There you are.”

An arm reached over and pulled Yang’s coat closed.

“That’s everyone.”

“H-have fun.”

“Say g’bye to mommy.”

“Bye mommy!”

“Not gonna give mommy a kiss?”

“No more kissing.”

“No more kissing, gotcha.”

And with that, the four of them headed out through the door like a whirlwind, leaving Blake stupefied in the hallway.

“You…” Blake turned to glare at the old man next to her, his eyes twinkling. Daring her to punch God in the face. “Where did you just take me?”

[twentiethcenturymoviesandtv]

The Twilight Zone: The Story

You’re traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of imagination. That’s the signpost up ahead - your next stop, the Twilight Zone!

The problem with anthology shows is that there’s no real premise behind it.  Each episode is different, there is no single story, no uniting setup that is the backdrop of each episode.  Every episode is an entirely different entity, and yet, every episode of The Twilight Zone is distinctly, uniquely, belonging to that very show.  There’s more to this show’s coherent identity than just its opening  narration.  (Spoilers below!)

The setup for The Twilight Zone, boiled down to its barest bones, is that each episode takes place in this bizarre universe (The titular Twilight Zone) in which anything can happen.  Episodes are opened, narrated, and closed by creator Rod Serling, who pleasantly observes the horrors taking place among the stars of today’s episode, whatever the terrors may be.

In each episode, you could expect something like this:

We meet our main character, who is, at first glance, a very normal person.  They move through life, mostly uninterrupted, until An Incident.

Sometimes the incident is nuclear holocaust.  Sometimes the incident is noticing someone who looks just like them.  Sometimes aliens land.  Sometimes it’s as simple as noticing something just a little bit off about the people around them, and all of a sudden, they’re in The Twilight Zone.  Any number of horrible things can proceed from here.  Sometimes, there’s a happy ending.  Often, there’s not.  Our main character typically changes over the course of an episode, hopefully for the better, and the audience, whether they like it or not, is changed along with them, and is left with An Aesop.

Simple, yes, but boy, did it work.

These stories weren’t light, and they were rarely uplifting.  Most of the time, the villains weren’t aliens, or gremlins, or supernatural entities.  In fact, most episodes seemed dedicated to showcase the worst of humanity, what we are in the dark.  Episodes like The Monsters Are Due On Maple Street depicts a town, frightened after a blackout and roused into further paranoia after hearing alien-invasion stories, end up killing innocent neighbors in fear. I Shot An Arrow Into the Air tells the story of an eight-man astronaut crew blasting off of Earth, crashing on what appears to be an asteroid.  One of three survivors kills the other two for their water supply, only to stumble over a distant ridge and find himself in Arizona.  The Shelter shows us a town threatened by a nuclear strike, and the residents immediately turn to the one family in town with a bomb shelter, first in desperation, then with murderous rage, threatening to tear each other apart.

The point?  Humans are monsters, worse than any creatures we can come up with.

See, without a uniting set of characters, or ‘premise’, with a new story and starting point every week, The Twilight Zone wasn’t a show that focused on a plot, or characters: it focused on ideas.  Specifically, it focused on humanity.

Very rarely was The Twilight Zone genuinely about the Outside.  Sometimes the episode was ‘about’ an alien invasion, sometimes the end of the world, gremlins on the wing of a plane, people trapped in a zoo, or as wax figures, or toys, but always, every time, it came back to humanity itself.  Our fears, our hopes, our greatest successes and our worst downfalls.  It all came back to people, even when it was ‘about’ the invading aliens.

The Twilight Zone was very good at pinning down those hopes and fears, too.  Whether we longed for success, wealth, a legacy, or something as simple as being remembered, or having enough time to read, The Twilight Zone could capture it succinctly, representing that hope in a character who strives for it, sometimes to a bitter end.  The show understood that humans will always shoot for their goals, and will often pursue them at costs we can’t pay.  

But the show’s understanding of humanity’s hopes is nothing compared to the grasp it had on humanity’s fears.  

Isolation.  Being forgotten.  The Unknown.  Loss of control, whether it be our minds, our emotions, or our environments.  Imprisonment.  Loss of humanity. The Twilight Zone had a way of taking what we were most afraid of and using it, often in a metaphorical sense, to tell stories, weaving themes and ideas together with the things that keep us up at night.

But of course, the thing The Twilight Zone is the most famous for is turning stories on its head at the last minute.  Let’s talk about the twist endings.

I’ve mentioned a few notorious endings in previous articles: the broken glasses of Time Enough at Last, or the translated alien text revealed as a cookbook from To Serve Man.  The Twilight Zone tended to be at its best when it suddenly twisted the events of the story with a surprise reveal.  A woman who has received countless reconstructive surgeries in an attempt to cure her disfigurement turns out to look completely normal to the audience, being a beautiful woman in a society of people whom we would consider disfigured.  A talkative member of a men’s club, when bet half a million dollars that he can’t stay silent for a year, manages to do so, and when those who made the bet can’t pay up, it is revealed that he severed his vocal cords in order to do it.

There are plenty of episodes that capture the art of the twist ending perfectly: Will The Real Martian Please Stand Up?, The Invaders, People Are Alike All Over, Five Characters In Search of An Exit, and The Hitchhiker.  Even the very first episode, Where Is Everybody? immediately encapsulates both the nature of the show and its themes, and the twist ending, which would be used very effectively for the remainder of the five seasons.  

The Twilight Zone managed to combine both a regular formula and a new story every week.  Each twist was different, every character had a different goal, and the oddness of The Twilight Zone was different each episode, whether people were being erased from the fabric of space and time, or whether the planet was hurtling away from the sun.  And every time, no matter what, Rod Serling would serenely close the episode, leaving the audience to ponder the events, and the lessons of the episode.

It was predictable in its unpredictability.  And it worked.  Every week, the familiar formula would bring a new story, a new lesson, a new twist, and even though we expected the twist, it stuck with us, it made us think, which was the goal.  The Twilight Zone was designed, not to frighten its audience, but to make them think.

The true mark of its quality is that, usually, it succeeded.

Thank you guys so much for reading!  Stay tuned for the next article, where we’ll be discussing the genre and themes of The Twilight Zone. Don’t forget that the ask box is always open, whether for discussion, questions, suggestions, or conversations.  I hope to see you in the next article.

[wildthought12]

Fall (1)

Description

You and Tom Holland friendship is anything but ordinary, the two of you have been the best of friends for more than half your lifetime.  The friendship seems relatively traditional on the outside until once people started befriending them than finding out the two are more than friends but less than lovers. 

 A/N: I want to write something that is pure crack.  This is my first time writing something with Tom Holland.  

Important Note: In this story, no one is famous!

Universe: Slice Of Life

Genre: Romcom & Maybe Smut 

"How am I a doofus?”

The question made him rolled his eyes, "Seriously Y/N? Are you for real right now? Why are you a Doofus? Did you not hear what came out of that mouth of yours, you dumbass?" That made you smack the back of his head as he hissed at you, "What the fuck you bitch."

"Damn it, Tom and Y/N can you two stop acting like children?" The calmest one in the room asked as he stared down at them, all he wanted to do was come down for a glass of water then head right back up the stair to his room to finish up some paperwork.  Instead, he's down here listening to a pair of best friend bicker about God knows what.  "It's her," Tom quickly said and pointed at you, "This gremlin right here needs your help to knock some sense into her.  Harrison, would you do the pleasure, and I don't know; you see stomping on her because I think all that studies on behavior is getting to her psychologist ass." Tom added then he gave your shoulder a shoved.  "You ass hole," You seethed then you couldn't help yourself so you lung and grabbed two handfuls of Tom's hair and started pulling.  Harrison's eyes open wide, "What the fuck," he said as he tries to pull You off of Tom, but instead of navigating you off of Tom, you somehow ended on Tom's lap with your legs wrapped around him.  "Don't fucking touch me, Harrison," You shouted not letting go of the hair that belongs to your best friend whom you had known more than half of your life due to the both of you being neighbors when you were younger.  "Get the fuck off of me, you witch," Tom scream as he does his best to push you off of him.

Harrison lets go of you immediately, knowing very well no matter how hard he pulls, you would not let go of Tom. It's a known fact for a girl you are strong when you want to be even Tom is no match for piss off Y/F/N Y/L/N.  "I'm going to call auntie," Tom said to her as he grabbed both of your hand, you loosen your grip at the mention of your mom. Which gave him the chance to flip you over, and you landed on your back with him hovering over you as Harrison stare on awkwardly.  A smirk made it's way to Tom's face, "Bloody hell, I don't care you, ass hole, " You said back not caring at the fact that Tom is now in control of the situation, having a good hold on your wrist right above your head.  "Listen here you witch, you're going to make me go bald one of these days," he said with a grin, the two of you are beyond comfortable with one another, there is no such thing as personal space between Tom Holland and Y/F/N Y/L/N.  "I mean if you like it rough all you gotta do is ask Love," Tom said with a wink making you rolled your eyes, "eww you piece of shit."

"Guys," Harrison called out deciding to break the two of you out of your own little world.  The focus on Harrison gave you a chance to kick Tom off of you, you sat up straight and gave the sweet male your undivided attention.  "I swear you two are going to end up going to jail one day or killing one another with your antics," Harrison said as he shook his head.  He has known the two of you forever now when becoming friends and roommate with Tom, at first he found your friendship odd, but over the years he got used to you both.

"I'm a detective, so I'm going to be able to pull some string while this chick here will get herself in the slammer for her stupid antics," Tom stated.  "I told you I'm not going to go to jail that shit only happens if I get caught, "You screech for what felt like the twenty times since telling him.

"Whoa whoa whoa jail?" Harrison whispers the last word acting like the three of them were in a library or something.  You rolled your eyes, "No one is going to go to jail, that only happens if I get caught which I fucking won't," you said, giving Tom a look.  Tom rolled his eyes, "Bitch is you stupid?" He said once again losing track of how many times he asked you if you're stupid.  Harrison ran his hand through his hair; yours and Tom friendship consist of you two calling one another the most pretentious names to the sweetest names.  "Bitch I'm a psychologist I am not stupid," you said with a matter of fact tone.  "I think you need someone to evaluate your ass," Tom said, then gave you a little shove causing you to grunt, "you need one."

"I think all of those criminal cases are getting to your head," You said with a smirk.

Tom rolled his eyes and points at you, “I think you should have Liam for an evaluation.” He said bringing up your co-worker slash friend. You rolled your eyes and responded, “I think you should transfer to a different department being part of narcotic is not good for you, Mate. I think too much drugs for Tommy is no good.” 

"Mate as your roommate, I demand you tell her how stupid she is," Tom said and pointed at you.  "For fuck sake will one of you tell me what's going on? All I wanted was a god damn glass of water then head back up to my room to work on a new sale pitch, but instead, I'm standing here watching you two fight like animals." 

“I’m getting married!” 

“Congratulations?” The word came out of Harrison’s mouth more like a question; he didn’t even know you were seeing anyone let along long enough to marry the person. “Over my fucking dead body, Y/N,” Tom chimed in and shook his head. “I already decided Tom, and I told you,” you said once again, and Harrison nodded now, understanding the situation a little better. “And I said no, you fool,” Tom said with a father like nature that only made you roll your eyes. “You’re not my dad,” you stated, “like hell, I’m not, but I know damn well that uncle would not agree to this shit.” Since both of you grew up together, you called each other parent’s aunt and uncle.

“Come on, Tom, you’re unreasonable,” You said with a pout, grabbing one of his arms and shook it, wanting him to lighten up.  Tom gave you a what the fuck look, “I’m unreasonable? Love, are you serious?” He asked, and you nod, “I think you are,” You replied then looked up Harrison, “Harrison tell him he’s unreasonable.”

Harrison let out a groan as he waved both his hand in the air, “I can’t say shit if I don’t know what the fuck you two are arguing about.”

“You see it all started at a bar,” You said with a smile as you begin to tell the story.  Tom rolled his eyes, “Oh bloody hell get to the story, mate.” You shoot a glare as he glared back, and that made Harrison even more annoyed.

” TELL ME THE GOD DAMN STORY BEFORE I GO BACK UPSTAIRS AND LET YOU BOTH KILL ONE ANOTHER.”

“Well damn,” You and Tom both said at the same time as you both stare at one another and back at Harrison. “Anyways as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted by this fucker,” You said and gestured to Tom causing the two male to rolled their eyes. “As you know John is graduating from university next week which means his student visa is going to expire and he has mentioned to us on several occasion that he loves Englands and wants to live here.  The problem with that is he has to leave and shit so last night while drinking with him, Liam, Emma, Sam, and Jack. I told him that I would marry him so he could stay in England.”

“Stupid right?” Tom asked with a smirk on his face, “How the fuck is that stupid? I want to help a friend out.” You defended yourself, and Tom shook his head, “your ass was intoxicated last night hence the reason I had to pick your ass up and bring you here.”

You shook your head, “even if I weren’t drunk, I would offer the same solution because I’m a nice person.” 

“HA! Nice my fucking ass, let’s not forget I have known you most of my life love.  Nice my ass, you’re the same eight-year-old little girl that told my five-year-old ass that if I step on a dog tails, sweets will fall from the sky.” You and Harrison burst out laughing at Tom’s story, giggling to the point that tears were falling from both of your eyes. “Oh my god! What kind of person believes that?” You said as he glared at you, you placed your hand on his thigh, squeezing it, “Tommy, you were so god damn gullible.” Tom rolled his eyes, “Bitch I was five-year-old of course, I was gullible.” 

You shook your head, “Poor Chubby had no idea what was coming,” talking about the dog. “Thank god he didn’t bite my cute ass,” Tom shook his head, remembering the dog from across the street as you and Harrison went on laughing. 

“Alright back to this witch, tell Y/N it’s a stupid idea.  Marrying someone so they could stay in England is the dumbest idea ever, not being a good friend.  If you want to be a good friend to John, you take him out to dinner or something and congratulate him on his MBA degree not give him a bloody marriage certificate.”

“I can’t back out now; you should’ve seen the look in his eyes. My offer made him happy.”

“That is not your problem, you fool,” Tom hissed once again.  You rolled your eyes, ignoring him, “John really wants to stay here,” you told the both of them. “I agree with Tom though; it’s not a good idea to get into a fake marriage so that John can stay.  The scheme can land you up in jail; it’s already a bad move that you even told Tom whose a cop.” Harrison said, and you rolled your eyes, “Not a bad move when the cop is the person I trust the most.”

“Then listen to the person you trust the most,” Tom said as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer to him and just laying your head on his shoulder. “I want to help John out, him staying in England is an excellent opportunity for him,” you let out a sigh. “Then tell his ass to find a job that will give him a working visa, and down the line, his ass can find someone to fall in Love with him, and he can get married with for real.  That solution is a much better one Love, where you won’t end up in jail.  I would hate to see you in handcuffs not to mention you get jail time and all John would get is a ticket back to New Zealand. That’s a shit deal on your end, and you aren’t going to get shit out of this,” Tom snapped.

You looked up at Tom whose face is inches away from yours and pout, “I get to help him out now that’s nice.”

“I’ll disown you, Y/N “he quickly said back, the two of you never breaking eye contact with one another.  Harrison, on the other hand, lets out a groan, the two of you look like you are in the process of kissing, “you two can solve your own shit, I have things to do,” and with that, he made his way back up to his room. “You wouldn’t dare,” you press back then cupped his face and a smirk appears on Tom’s face. “Listen to me you Witch; I’m telling you one more time that this is the dumbest shit you have ever said and that said a lot because it’s you, Y/N, and you have said a lot of stupid shit.”

You caress his face, “but you love me,” you cutely said to him as you made a face. “Sadly, I do,” Tom said with a smile then push you away from him, “I still refuse for you to marry John for the sake of him staying.”

“Come on, mate,” You softly said as you lay your head on his lap, you looked up at him, “I need you to agree with me.”

Tom looked down at her, “I’ll have you arrested, Love,” he said as he brushes the hair away from your face to get a better view.

The thing with the both of you, you both won’t do anything if either one of you does not agree with it.  It has always been like that growing up; if Tom did not agree with you, you would not go through with it.  Everyone in the entire world can be against you as long as he was right there next to you with that smile of his, you feel at ease.  The two of you have been through almost every major stepping stone with one another; you told each other everything to the point there was nothing left.  Tom and you know all about one another first date, first kiss, when you both lost your V card, the start of Menstruation, Etc.  Every milestone you both come across in life, you both always went through it together, middle school graduation, high school graduation, university graduation, first interview, first job, all the first. “You wouldn’t do that to me,” the tone of your voice was softer than you excepted, “that would be cruel Tommy,” you added then play with his left hand that’s resting nicely on your stomach.  Tom let out a sigh, “I want you to think straight Love.  Marriage is not something to joke about; that’s a fucked up concept to fool.  Pretending to date is one thing, but this whole shit will be on file and just, so you know, you will be followed by the government wanting to make sure this entire shit is real.  Not only that, they are going to interview you two all the time as well to make sure your story matches, and if it doesn’t, an investigation will be launch.”

“See you know so much so you can help me,” you smile wide at him as he let out a scoff, “over my dead body.”

“THOMAS!”

“You can sleep alone then,” Tom said to you, which made you closed your mouth.  You had gotten used to sleeping with him next after your roommate Lisa moved out a few months ago, and you haven’t been able to find a new roommate that fit your standards.  Since then, you have been sleeping at Tom’s house and vice verse, you have gotten used to having his arms wrapped around you when sleeping. “Why do you hate me?” you spoke again, Tom rolled his eyes, “you know damn well that’s the furthest thing from the truth you brat.”

 The Next Day 

 “That’s fucked up!”

Tom shrugged not taking his eye away from his computer monitor as his partner in front of him spoke. “The only person that’s fucked up in this situation is Y/N because I warn that Witch,” he said with a matter of fact tone. “It just sounds like she wants to do a favor for John and I see nothing wrong with that,” the man said, grabbing Tom’s attention, “What do you even know Nick?” 

Nick chuckled at the younger respond; he didn’t mind; he was used to Tom up and down behaviors; after all, they were partners for a few years now. “I know Y/N would kill you if you report John to immigration,” Nick said while laughing, he couldn’t hold in his laughter at Tom’s rant on calling immigration to deport John back to New Zealand. “That Witch will not kill me; my mom will kill her if she kills me,” Tom laughed.  Nick shook his head, “you two are so fucking weird,” he replied, knowing the depth of the friendship that Tom shared with you.  Tom raised an eyebrow, “and you’re any better? Let’s not fucking forget that you made me stop at KFC while we were in the middle of a drug investigation, Mate?” He said with a matter of fact tone, the two of them are part of Narcotics. “Mate, we still did a drug bust and caught all those mother fuckers. I can’t catch crackheads with an empty stomach, so forgive me for being hungry,” Nick snapped back at his partner.  Tom shrugged, “I don’t give a fuck,” he waved him off.

“Anyways,” Nick began as he put his pen down from whatever report he was doing, “I thought you and John are cool.” 

“I never said anything about me not being cool with John,” Tom said, confused by Nick’s statement. “Then what’s the problem? I mean it sounds like Y/N just wants to help a friend out which I think it’s darn kind of her,” Nick pointed out.  Tom rolled his eyes, “Kind? Lending him some money for whatever the fuck he needs is bloody kind,” he preached then added, “but this whole fucking fake marriage shit her dumbass wants to pull is not kind.”

“Calling immigration for no reason is not any better than what Y/N’s trying to do,” Nick implied to him. “We can’t save everyone Nick, and if I can save one person, I’m going to save my bitch of a best friend,” Tom grumbled getting a bit annoyed that no one understands him.  Nick burst out laughing, “you’re an ass, you know that right?” That question earns him a middle finger from Tom himself. 

“What’s up with him? He’s so testy today more than usual,” the person that stopped by their desk questioned the two. “Our little Thomas is in a bit of a pissy mood today Miles,” Nick answered the older guy.  Miles raises an eyebrow, “Nick face just piss me off every time I enter the precinct,” Tom stated. “I know the feeling,” Miles said as he made a face and added, “That’s how I feel every time, Cam greets me.” Leave it to Miles to cause laughter within the precinct; he was talking about Cam another detective who works at the front desk that greets people that come into the precinct. “Any who why are you so testy kid?” Miles asked Tom, even though years have passed since Tom rookie days, Miles is used to calling him kid more than his actual name. “Y/N wants to marry John, so John doesn’t have to go back to his country,” Nick answered for his partner.  

“Dude! What the fuck,” Tom said glaring at Nick, “Miles does not care,” Nick defended his action.  Miles rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to snitch on your girl beside this is the Narcotic department and not immigration.”

“I never said she was doing it; I said she was thinking about it,” Tom snorted.

Nick points at his partner, “If anything he wants to call immigration to get John in trouble,” he told Miles.  The oldest out of the three gasps, “What? John Brown is so nice; he always offers to pay every time we go out for drinks now that’s a stellar guy,” Miles kindly said. “I never said he wasn’t nice,” Tom groans not wanting to speak about the topic any longer with the two of them. “Unless you think he’s no good for England, then I will back you up on your claim,” Miles softly said so that only Tom and Nick can hear him. “Dude, that’s fucked up,” Nick said while laughing and Miles shrugged, “The kid is family, so I have his back.”

“Thanks but I don’t need it,” Tom said as he shook his head.

At times the men he works with can be a lot, but at the end of the day, they are his family.  Everyone in Tom’s department is like family; they do their best to even hang out with one another outside of work. Also attending one another’s birthday, wedding, whatever life event they would all try to be there.  Miles was the one that took Tom under his wing when he was new to Narcotics but being him; Tom became one of the best at his job even being better than Miles at times.  Out of everyone at their department, Nick and Miles know all about Tom, and Y/N’s, the two of them are even friends with you as well.  Being partners with Tom for most of his career now, Nick, always without a doubt, hears about all of his builds up frustration with you.

“You and Y/N just need to fuck and get over with it, all this build up sexual tension is not good for you, Mate,” Miles said, shaking his head.  Tom let out a grunt, “I’m serious, no one knows what’s up with you two like yall are more than friends but less than lovers. That’s confusing as fuck; I’m just saying just fuck, so you don’t be butthurt about this John shit.”

“How about confessing?”

“Oh gee, thanks for the advice, Nick, I wish, I have thought of that,” Tom sarcastically said, “Damn, I wish I fucking thought of that.”

“No need to be a dick,” Nick mumbled then went back to finishing up his report. “She always thinks I’m joking, so she kinds of just brush me off, that bitch,” Tom shook his head as he ran his fingers through his hair.  Miles chuckle, “you two are never single at the same time and now yall have been for over a year now and nothing.  Kid, you and Y/N are a weird case of I love you, but at the same time what the fuck is going on with Y’all type of people.” Tom rolled his eyes at Miles statement, no one understands you and him and to be quite honest neither, did he. Why weren’t you guys a couple yet? It’s not for the lack of trying on his part, but something always seems to cause you two to step back from one another when things are just about to advance a bit further.

“I’ll just have to call Jimmy from Immigration to arrest Y/N and John if her dumbass goes through with the marriage,” Tom said in a very casual manner. “Mate, that’s fucked up,” Nick said, but Tom was not bothered by that statement. “That’s my boy, that’s how you do it, petty level 100,” Miles proudly said as he gave Tom a few pats on the back.

“Y/N will kill you.”

“Y/N will do no such thing.”

“What won’t I do?” The three men turned around to see you standing there with a smile on your face, “What are you doing here?” Tom asked, surprised to see you, “I came to visit you, duh.”

“Ewww, why did Cam let you in?” Tom grunts loudly, “Oh shut up you, dick,” you snorted at him.  Miles chuckle, “It’s good to see you Y/N,” he greeted you before leaving; he had to get back to his desk to finish his work. “So what are you two talking about?” you asked as your eyes dart from Nick to Tom, “Mind your god damn business, Love,” your best friend said to you. “You two are fucking weird, I’m going on my break,” Nick said as he stood up from his desk and walked away from you both. 

“Did you take your lunch break yet?” You asked him as you held tightly onto your yellow cross body bag.  The good thing about working for in private practice, you were able to call the shot yourself and take appointments as you please along with breaks as you please.  Tom shakes his head, “not yet,” he told you. “Great,” you said as you took a step forward, grab his pen and place it down on the table, “take it now.”

“I don’t want to.” 

You shrugged, “I didn’t ask if you want to or not,” you said then grabbed his right hand, holding it with your left hand and intertwine your fingers together.  You smile down at him, “Lunch is on me,” you said as your wiggling your eyebrows.  Tom chuckle, how could he say no to you? That stupid smile of yours always made it hard for him to say no, “okay,” he mumbles. “Yay, now get up because you’re too heavy for me to pull up,” you said as you did your best to pull him up.  Tom laughed and got up from his seat, he let go of your hand to grab his jacket, he then put on his coat, “let’s go,” he said and grabbed your hand and head out of the precinct. 

“It’s a beautiful day today, isn’t it?” You asked him as you swing yours and Tom’s hands up and down as you walk to your usual lunch spot. “I guess,” he replied which made you rolled your eyes at his response, “Okay moody pants,” You said with a smile.

“I’m not moody, and the sun is literally in my eyes, Love,” Tom said with a matter of fact tone as the two continue walking towards their destination. “What a big baby you’re, Thomas,” You said as you rolled your eyes, instead of responding to you, he allows you to lead him to the restaurant.  You let out a laugh, for as long as you have known one another, Tom is always whining about something, it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t complain or whine about something.

“I can’t wait to eat all the bread,” You announced the moment you got into the booth at your favorite restaurant.  You loved the fact that Tom’s workplace was close to your favorite place to eat at, and you love the bread. “Don’t eat all of the Brown one you Witch,” Tom said with a grin, the two of them are forever fighting over the Brown color Bread, it’s a known fact that it tastes the best compared to the regular eggshell colored bread. You rolled your eyes, “The workers know the deal, they only bring the Brown one now,” you states with a matter of fact tone. 

 Tom chuckle, “It’s because you are a cry baby,” he said remembering that one time when you was on your period, how you just burst into tears because he ate the last piece of the Brown bread. “You should’ve been a nice best friend and gave it to me,” you pouted cutely at him. “Oh, god, I always give you whatever you want. Don’t use the one time where I was striving against me,” he said, shaking his head.

“Anyways,” You started as you cross your hands together and smiles at him, “did you think about what I said before bed last night?” You asked him, and that made him remember their last night pillow talk before bed. “Do you remember?” You asked a follow-up question, of course, he recalls, Tom always remembers everything that happens with you.  Last night was no different from any other night, your head resting against his chest, the two of you in a spooning position with his arms wrapped around your waist tightly not wanting to lose you. “What makes you think my answer would change? Just because you asked me to think about it right before we went to bed?” Tom raises an eyebrow, and You had asked him to sleep on the idea of you helping out John.  You told him that you did not know how to go back on your words and you did not want to face John, after all, it was your idea. “I gave you the best cuddle of my life,” You declared like a child not getting what you want. “Fuck off, Mate,” Tom said as you shoved a piece of bread into his mouth, “I have had better.” 

You let out a dramatic gasp, “How dare you,” you said doing your best to be serious, but you just ended up laughing.  Tom rolled his eyes, “I’m looking out for you; this is not what you want to do trust me, and your parents would not approve.” 

“Oh god, they won’t approve of anything, the only thing they would approve of if I marry you.” 

The two of you laugh knowing how true your statement is, not just your parent’s but his as well.  No matter how many time you and Tom told them that you two were the best of friends, both of your parent’s did not care.  The rent did not care how many significant others the two of you brought home; they were never satisfied with the person. “Then you should marry me then,” he said half joking and half serious. “Oh for bloody sake marriage is not a joke,” You said, and he raises an eyebrow, “Funny that you’re saying that when it comes to me.  When all you have been doing is wanting me to support your dumb ass jail scheme for the sake of John.”

You let out a sigh, “I just want to be a good friend. And he’s always talking about wanting to stay, and that just makes me feel bad. I know I shouldn’t have drunk so much that night, and maybe I wouldn’t have blurred out such nonsense that I most likely wouldn’t be able to go through.”

“I know that you did not drag me out from my desk to talk about this,” Tom said with a sigh, he did not want to talk about John any longer. When he’s spending time with you, Tom rather you both not discuss other people and just talk about one another or Harrison. “Sorry,” You said, shaking your head as you took a sip of water.  Before anyone can speak once more, the waitress came over to talk both of your orders, Tom order for the both of you.

“His visa isn’t going to expire the moment he graduates; he has time to job hunt and get a working visa.  There is others option out there that does not involve your ass in jail.”

“Right,” you said then looked up at him with a smile, he’s right, you did not drag him to eat with you to talk about someone else. “How is your day going?” You decided to change the subject; you knew you were getting him a bit pissed off with your nagging of the topic of a fake marriage. “Same shit just different day,” Tom shrugged his typical answer that made you laugh. “If you hate your job that much, why are you still doing it?” You asked, and he shook his head, “I don’t hate my job, I love beating crackhead up.”

“You’re such a dick.”

“I’m your dick,” he said with a wink making you smile, knowing that he was no longer annoyed with you. “Sadly yes,” you laugh then added, “you know people that are crackhead don’t have a choice? Addiction is an evil thing.” Tom shook his head, “Listen, Love, I don’t need your psychologic speech where people can’t help themselves because it’s an addiction.”

“It’s true,” you defended your statement, and he waved you off, “You and I deal with different people. I’m dealing with people that are dealing it with other people that put lives at risk, so these people deserve to serve time.  While you, on the other hand, see people that want to change themselves and they are telling you why they choose that route. Baby, you are dealing with people that are going through fucked up shit in their life, so you are attached, I’m not.”

“Life is hard,” you sadly said just thinking about people who are affected by the evil of drugs. “It is but hey shit happens and you deal with it,” Tom shrugged, such a man’s respond you though to yourself, so typical of him. “How’s work for you?” Tom asked back, and a smile appears on your face, You always loved when people ask you about your day, especially when he asked. “I had to take over one of Liam’s patient, remember the woman. I told you that she was falling in love with him?” You laughed, and Tom nodded, “The lady that asked her husband for a divorce?” He asked, and you nodded while smiling, “Yes, well today she came in with her best outfit and what not, and she tries to have sex with Liam.  It was hilarious; I wish you were there to witness it yourself, the look on Liam’s face. This lady was chasing after him that he had to hide behind me,” you laugh as you’re retelling the story. “She has an obsession with Liam; it’s crazy, he needs to stop making client fall in love with him then again it’s not his fault that he’s charming.”

“Are you falling for him?” Tom suddenly asked you, your eyes open wide and shook your head, “Fuck no! Liam is handsome, and all but that man is weird,” you said, talking about your co-worker. “How did you guys get her to leave him alone?” He asked, “I told her that Liam and I are lovers.”

“WHAT!”

“It got her to leave him alone,” You said, “What’s up with you? Are you trying to be with everyone, you Witch?” Tom blurred out as you raise an eyebrow, “First you want to marry John, and now you are Liam’s lover.”

You burst out laughing, “chill the fuck out; I’m just trying to be a kind friend just like I would do for you.”

“I’m different,” Tom defending himself but instead of adding on to the topic of the two of them, you changed the subject feeling awkward. “Yay food is here,” You happily said as the waitress placed the plates down.

“Stealing,” You grabbed a piece of fries off of his plate and shoved it into your mouth. “I would be more surprised if you didn’t steal any fries off my plate,” Tom asserted, after all, you were always stealing food from him, and he was used to it. “It’s a force of nature now,” You proudly told him as he rolled his eyes at your respond. “A horrible force of nature if you ask me,” he growled which made her laugh, “I know, but you love me so who cares.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “While you’re out there trying to be everyone else’s lover.”

“Oh gosh,” You said waving him off, “That woman was going to eat Liam alive had I not helped him. I mean, you should have seen the look in her eyes; it was like he was a piece of meat of some sort.”

“Liam needs to get laid anyways; maybe it wouldn’t have been a bad idea,” Tom nonchalantly said then took a bite of his burger. “That is true but I rather he has sex on his own free will instead of it been pushed upon him,” You said with a smile then took a spoonful of your Cajun pasta. “Who knows he might end up liking it,” Tom said with a shrugged making you laugh, “how cynical of you.”

“I wouldn’t say cynical more like I’m looking out for my fellow bro,” Tom told you with a grin. “It’s against the rules to be dating a client, and that applies to sleeping one as well. I’m pretty sure Liam would rather keep his license intact instead of screwing around.”

“Who knows what anyone wants anymore,” Tom shrugged and added, “I don’t even fucking know what I want out of life anymore!”

“SOOOO Dramatic Thomas,” You crowd and pointed at him, “By the way we are going drinking tonight.” 

Later That Night

 “Why are you out? When clearly all you want to do is be in bed.”

Tom took a sip out of his beer, “I already told the brat that I would come out to drink with her, so here I am.”

Harrison chuckle, “can never say no to Y/N now, can you?” It wasn’t a question because Harrison already knew the answer, no matter how tired Tom is, he will always be there for Y/N. The pair have always been couple like since he has known them, but it’s only gotten a bit more intimate these following six months since Lisa moved out of Y/N’s apartment.  It did not matter what time of the day it was, or how busy Tom was if you needed him, he was out the door in a flash. “It’s a lot easier for me to bring her ass home instead of her drunk ass calling me to come get her.” 

That’s the truth, being at the club with you is a lot easier for Tom, he was already with you instead of being in bed worrying about you than falling asleep then having your drunken call wake him up at whatever time. “Looks like your princess needs your saving,” Harrison gestured to the bar where you are, and by the looks of it, you were doing your best to brush off the strangers next to you. “What the fuck, do people not get the concept of no?” Tom said right before leaving his spot next to Harrison, making his way towards you.

“Come on, let me buy you a drink,” Tom heard the man say, follow by your no thank you. “The lady told you she’s good,” Tom said the moment he approaches you. “Mind your own business,” the man turned to Tom, “No, you mind your stuff if you don’t want any problem, Mate” Tom then open his jacket, flashing his badge. “Whoa man,” the man put his hands up then quickly walked away. “You’re such an ass,” You tease, “Oh so you rather I let him bother you for the rest of the night?”

“Kidding,” You protested then grabbed his hand before he could leave your side. “I told you not to wear that,” he gestured towards your tight black dress that left little to imagine. You rolled your eyes, “It’s a club, you don’t expect me to wear a maxi dress now, do you?”  You questions and he shrugged, “It would make my job a lot easier had you wore one,” he said as you moved closer to him. “Whatever,” You said, pulling him closer to you, “Imma buy you another drink, you need another one,” you stated then turned back to the bartender. “This chick,” Tom mutter to himself, he removes his hand from yours then stood behind you like a shield so no one can stare at your ass. “An order of Blue Moon please,” he heard you tell the bartender, “don’t even think about it,” Tom said to the person next to him looking like he was about to approach you, “not today,” he said then placed one of his hand on your waist. “I fucking hate you for wearing this stupid shit,” he whispers into your ear as he pinches the thin fabric to prove a point. You turn around and smiles, “you do not,” you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck and shook your head. “You’re a piece of shit for wearing it,” he said as you place his hands on your hips. “It’s not my fault that people are looking but if I do say so myself my ass looks banging in this dress,” you compliment yourself. Tom looked down for a moment then back at you, “I agree, but now you have all these thirsty men wanting you.”

“Who fucking cares, they can all look,” You said with a shrugged as he was about to respond another person came over. “What the fuck Y/N,” they both heard, You turn to see who the voice belongs to and smile. “Hey girl hey,” you greeted the said female with a smile, “you hussy,” the woman said, pointing at you.  You frown for a moment, taking your arms off of Tom and pulling yourself away from him, “Me?” You asked as Tom stares at the whole thing really confused, he didn’t understand why you are being called a hussy. “I’m a hussy?” You asked confused as you stare at the lady in front of you, “Yeah you bitch, how the fuck can you cheat on Liam?”

“Ah,” both you and Tom nodded now getting the situation now. “Kelly, it’s not what yo--,” You couldn’t even finish your sentence when Kelly interrupted you, “I’m going to tell Liam on you,  you two-timing hussy.” Tom, on the other hand, was doing his best to hold in his laughter as this Kelly woman is throwing all types of insult at his best friend. “Tell me what?” A wild Liam appears next to you and Tom with a smile on that handsome face of his. “Liam, I found this hussy cheating on you,” Kelly said, pointing at you causing Liam to burst out laughing, he didn’t have as great composure compare to Tom.  Kelly frown, “Why are you laughing? She’s cheating on you with this man,” she said, pointing at Tom which made him rolled his eyes.

Tom is just staring at you, Liam, and Kelly, thinking to himself how this whole thing would resolve.  Kelly is over here ranting about god knows what, he stops listening to her after the fifth time she called you a hussy, while at the same time calling him handsome but that still does not give you a valid reason to cheat on Liam.

“She’s not cheating on me.”

“I’M NOT?/ SHE’S NOT?”

“Of course not,” Liam said with a big smile as he walks towards you and Tom, he inserted himself between them. “The three of us are one,” he cheekily said as he wraps his arms around you and Tom. “Say what now?” Tom asked and looked at Liam, “you three?” Kelly asked, pointing at the three. “Yes, yes, we are boyfriends and girlfriend,” You proudly said going along with Liam mess of a story while Tom, on the other hand, is now in a state of shock by this new revelation. “Ploy relationship?” Kelly slowly asked, “Yes, you are indeed correct,” Liam flash her his famous smile. “It’s fun you should try it,” you said with a wink.

“No thanks,” Kelly quickly responded then walked away immediately from them not sparing them a single glance. “Oh my god, did you see the look on her face?” You said as you and Liam burst out laughing. “I think we lost a client,” Liam stated, but the two of you kept on laughing.  

“What the fuck was that?” Tom finally spoke as he pushes Liam away from you and him. “The three of us are in a relationship, duh,” Liam said with a shrugged as You giggles and agreeing with him. “There is no three of us you ass,” Tom shook his head and turned to you whose just laughing your ass off, “it’s not that funny.” 

“Live a little Thomas,” You said and poked his cheek trying to make him smile, but it didn’t work. 

“Do you think she followed us here?” Liam asked you, walking over to stand next to you. “I wouldn’t put it past her, she’s crazy as fuck,” you said, shaking your head, “you’re a good girlfriend,” Liam joked then put his arm around you. “I know, I’m like the best so you should treat me to food,” you said, putting your head on his shoulder. “I’ll treat you to food on Monday,” Liam said, then turn to Tom, “you can come too since you helped.” 

“Against my fucking will,” Tom barked eyeing you and Liam carefully. “Oh shit your beer,” You remember, you pulled yourself away from Liam and to the bartender. “What did I tell you about touching her?” Tom asked as he pulled the older male towards him, “My bad dude, it was an in the moment thing,” Liam defending himself. Tom rolled his eyes, “It won’t be at the time when I arrest you for being part of a drug ring.” 

“You bastard,” Liam said while laughing as he listens to the same threats once more.

Jealously is a bitch!

“What are you going to plant drugs in my office or something?” Liam tease his younger friend, he finds it funny as hell, and it brought him great joy when it came to the story of Tom and Y/N. “I might if you keep teasing me,” Tom said with a shrugged while Liam rolled his eyes, “you two are fucking weird.”

“Weird? No,” Tom said, shaking his head, “Batshit crazy a little, I will agree to that,” he added.

“IM BACK BOYFRIENDS,” You loudly said over the music and hand them both a drink, “your Blue Moon and Liam, I order you, your usual Henny and Coke.”

“Best girlfriend ever,” Liam said with a smirk, “Don’t push my button, Mate,” Tom mutter just before taking a sip out of his beer.  Liam, on the other just laugh, he just really enjoys teasing the fuck out of both of them.

“Greatest friends you guys are leaving me alone,” Harrison commented as he stood in front of the three of them. “Took you long enough to join us,” Tom said with a grin which earns him a middle finger from his roommate. “Y/N is a hussy, did you know that?” Liam asked which made you burst out laughing while Harrison stare in confusion then looked at Tom. “Don’t ask me these two are weird as fuck,” he said, shaking his head. “That’s so mean to say about your boyfriend and girlfriend,” You said as you wrapped your hands around his free arm. 

 “Boyfriend and Girlfriend?” Harrison question his roommate, and Tom shook his head, “Trust me, and you do not want to know.”

You looked up at Tom and smile at him, “Tom is Liam and me, boyfriend.  The three of us are in a poly relationship,” you announced. Liam burst out laughing as he stares at Harrison, “Shit dude, look at your face,” he called out. “I mean I didn’t even know you three were into that but fuck if you are, I’m cool with it,” Harrison nodded his head.

“Don’t believe these bastards,” Tom said, shaking his head as the two. “Live a little babe,” You murmured, you tiptoe to place a chaste kiss on his cheek.

 The Next Day

  “Drink some more water instead of complaining,” Liam said then place the cold water bottle right in front of you. “Why is it so hot?” You groan before grabbing the water and drinking it, the sun was beaming down on you, and it didn’t help that you had a massive hangover from last night. Why couldn’t you listen to Tom? Why are you such an alcoholic and drank so much to the point Tom had to carry you home? “I just want to go back to bed and sleep this hangover away,” you said as you stare up at Liam whose standing beside you eating a hot dog. “Want some?” He offers some of his food, and you shook your head, “I’m going to puke if I eat anything,” you inform him. “Suit yourself,” he shrugs, “How are you okay right now? You drank a shit ton of Henny and Coke last night,” you stated the obvious. “Unlike you my friend, I know how to pace myself, and I remember that your ass volunteers me to sell baked goods at this fundraiser,” he said with a smirk as he stares at everyone at the park.  

Today was the usual fundraiser that the police in their city did once a year to raise money for youth.  Tom had asked you if you wanted to help out and of course, you said yes, and along with that, you sign up a bunch of your friends as well stating it was for the greater good so of course, they couldn’t say no. “Why didn’t you remind me? Had I remember, I wouldn’t have gone ham,” you held on to your pounding head as you stare in the middle of the field where all the officers are posing for pictures and what not for their next year calendar.

“Ummm your man should’ve reminded you,” Liam said and gesture to Tom who is standing there shirtless and what not. “I hate him, he dragged me out of bed and made me come,” you hissed, staring at Tom whose smiling away.  Liam laughs and nudges her, “Smile, a little girl, and her mom coming this way,” he said, and you did as told. “Hello, what would you like?” you sweetly asks the little girl and her mother, “go ahead and say what you want,” the mother said to her daughter. “That one,” the little girl said, pointing to the Red Velvet cupcake with cream cheese frosting, “awesome choice that one is my favorite,” Liam flashed a smile. The little girl smiles cutely at Liam and nods her head, “That will be a dollar please,” you said, and the mother hands her the dollar, “thank you,” they all said as the duo took their leave.

“So, what’s up with you and Tom now?” Liam wiggles his eyebrows, he took a seat next to you.  You raise an eyebrow, “What do you mean?” you answer his question by asking him a question, “I mean you two? Y/N, you barely go back to sleep at your place, and when you do, Tom is there sleeping there as well.”

You shook your head, “I don’t like sleeping alone, I love body heat.  Is that a crime to love body heat? And If I must say so myself, his body is fire, and he’s my best friend.” You glance over at Tom quickly and back to Liam. “Y/N, you slept alone before this whole weird shit just happen six months ago,” he rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what you want me to say, he’s my best friend,” You shrugged, but you knew Liam was not satisfied with your answer. “Best friends that are basically lover,” he stated the obvious.

“It’s not that simple, and Tom thinks I’m joking half the time,” you professed.

“You two play too much that’s your problem,” Liam claimed, and you let out a sighs knowing how valid those words are, you can be a bit much at times. “I was so horny last night, Liam,” you pouted as you began your story, “I haven’t had sex for almost a year now.”

“Damn, that’s a long time not to get any,” he shook his head, “No shit,” you barked then grabbed one of the cookies and shoved it into your mouth. “Y/N, that’s a cookie, not a dick, so imma need you to chill because there are children here.”

“Fuck you,” you hissed which made him laugh, “I’m not the man you’re trying to fuck, he’s over there,” Liam gesture his head to Tom. “I try that last night, and he won’t give me some either,” you admit.

“WHAT?”

“Why don’t you go grab the bullhorn from Harrison and announce it, why don’t you?” you growled and pointed to Harrison whose holding a bullhorn, Tom placed him on announcement duty and such. “Don’t test me mate because you know I would,” he proclaimed, causing you to close your mouth knowing very well what Liam says he does. “I got rejected, bitch claiming that I’m too drunk to know what I’m doing and made me go to sleep.  Tom made me go to bed; he changed me into my sleeping clothes and forced me to go to bed.”

“What a gentleman!”

"Gentlemen my fucking ass, that bastard is full of shit.  As my best friend, he should give me what I want because he knows when I'm drunk, I'm horny, " You groan as you did your best to remember what happened last night.  All you could remember is asking Tom for sex and his rejection. You let out a sigh and told Liam what you remember of last night.

 “Do you need me to do anything?” Harrison asked the moment they enter the house.  Tom shook his head while holding a drunk you on his back like a bag of potatoes, “Mate, I’m good, I got this; you go ahead and sleep.” He said, giving him a weak smile, “Good night then,” Harrison said then made his way to his room.  Tom, on the other hand, head to the kitchen with you in tote to grab a bottle of water, “Y/N, you always have to go hard, don’t you?” He hissed knowing very well that your motto, go big or go home and of course you always go big.  He then made his way up the stairs into his room, he dropped you softly on the bed and sighed, “You’re going to feel everything tomorrow.”

“Tommy,” you slurred, grabbing his hand as he was about to head to the draws to get you some clothes. “Yes, baby?” He sweetly answers, taking a seat next to you, “I-im horny,” You began as your eyes flicked open and stared at him. “Can we please have sex?” you whine in your drunken state as he sighs, “I think you had too much to drink, it’s time to go to sleep baby,” he cooed. Tom’s respond made you toss and kicked like a baby.  You aren’t one to be mature when it comes to drinking and being drunk; you were always the one that caused a bit of a scene just like you’re doing right now. “Baby girl, you and I have a long day ahead tomorrow, so we both need to sleep.” Tom sweetly said, when you’re in your drunken state he always used sweet pet names with you instead of their usual Witch, Bitch, Fool, and such. “I want you inside of me,” you pouted, and that made him swallow hard.  One would think he would be used to your horny outburst by now before it wasn’t direct towards him because you did have your share of boyfriends and hooks up.  The thing that’s been going on with you both started after Lisa left, “Please go to sleep.”

“W-why, don’t you want me, Tommy?”

Tom took a deep breath, the way you were purring his name made it hard for him to control himself as well. “Tommy pay attention to me! I wore this tight dress to impress you,” your drunk ass told him.  Tom chuckle, “and you look fantastic in it, Love, but it’s time for bed,” he said, then placed a peck on her forehead.

“I want to have sex with you,” you cried once more than all of a sudden you pulled down the top of your dress revealing your Black lace bra. “I even wore your favorite bra,” you mutter as you closed your eyes.  Tom gulp hard staring at your breast, you were right those are his favorite bra, he has a thing for Black lace anything. “Are my boobs not big enough for you?” you asked him, and he shook his head, staring at his best friend whose obviously tired out of her mind and drunk at the moment.  He wonders if you would remember all of this in the morning, “they are perfect,” he mutters as he stares up at your face.

“Let’s get you into comfortable clothes,” he said, getting up off the bed and headed towards the draw.  There was no one in hell Tom was going to have sex with you for the first time when you are drunk, it’s not right, and he flat out refuses to no matter how horny you both felt.  

  “Rejection at it’s finest,” Liam proclaimed and laughed at your little problem. “I know! Am I not worthy of sex?” You asked him, and he laughs, “You can always get it from Jai, homie loves sex,” he said and pointed to their friend whose works in immigration.  You rolled her eyes, “No thanks, I heard he has a daddy kink, and I refuse to call anyone besides the man that gave me life daddy.”

Tom burst out laughing, “Hey, don’t judge him, we all have kinks,” he said with a grin. “I know, I’m just saying,” You said with a shrugged. “Besides, I wouldn’t say shit you are the girl that wants her best friend’s dick inside of her,” Liam tease causing your face to turn beet red. “I hate you, I’m never telling you anything again,” you said then began to shake Liam violently.

“What’s going on here?”

Liam yanked your hands off of him, “Your bitch of a best friend is trying to kill me. That’s what’s going on,” he said and pointed at you. “He’s annoying,” you said with a shrugged which made him laugh, “I rather you do not kill him in front of all these cops, it would be hard to bail you out Love,” Tom said with a smile. “Hey, I resent that,” Liam criticized but it was no use, it was going into deaf ears when you and Tom are near one another. “You resent a lot of things,” Tom rolled his eyes, “I resent you for not having a shirt on either,” Liam pointed at Tom’s abs.

“Those ladies over there are loving me,” Tom said and gestured to the females that are gawking at him. “Disgusting,” You mutter softly but loud enough for the two men to hear you. “Don’t be jealous you Witch, you get to see more than them,” he teases you making your cheek heats up and turn red in embarrassment. “Imma need you two to relax and act like a normal pair of fucking best friends for a moment.”

“Define, normal?”

“The complete opposite of y’all,” Liam loudly declared as he pointed to the both of you.

“Ouuu John, my future husband is here,” You excitedly said as you waved. “He’s not your future husband you Witch,” Tom scolded you once again, but she shrugged not caring in the slightest.  

You smile as you got up from the baked table and ran to greet John.  Tom glared then turned to grab a cookie and shoved it into his mouth. “God damn it, what did the poor cookies ever do to you guys?” Liam yelped, staring at Tom gulp hard on the cookies then chugged the water that belongs to you.

“I’m going to deport his ass,” he preached then added, “who fucking invited him here?”

Liam gave him a what the fuck look, “you invited him, you invited us all that day we went out to eat for Mile’s birthday.” He reminded him, and that’s when he remembers that he did invite everyone to this fundraiser because he wants to raise money. “Y/N’s fake marriage plan cloud your memory?” Liam said with a smirk which earns him middle fingers from Tom.  

“I’m going to tell immigration and deport his ass,” he hissed.

“Dude, that’s cruel.”

“Then you can go with him,” Tom said with a shrugged not caring what nonsense came from his mouth. “I was born here you shit head,” Liam said with a matter of fact tone. “I can make it as you came here illegally, it’s not like we need a Liam Brown here,” Tom jeered as he pulled his pants up. “I would take your threat more seriously if you had on a shirt, but you’re shirtless in front of me and bitching about random shit.”

“Oh fuck you, Liam,” Tom rolled his eyes, “I like women,” Liam said with a reassuring tone. “That’s debatable; you have the biggest crush on Sammy who looks more manly than you and not to mention who’s a lesbian,” Tom said and pointed at his fellow cop whose selling raffle tickets.  Liam stares at the woman police officer who’s a total tomboy, “She’s still a she, so that still makes me straight you fuck face.”

“Hey guys,” John greeted the two with a smile on his face. “Thanks for coming, I’m so glad you could make it,” Tom said with a smile, changing his whole tone, different from moments ago. “Fake,” Liam told between coughs as everyone is staring at him while Tom, in particular, is glaring. “Them allergies is getting to Liam,” Tom said in between his teeth and Liam nod, laughing, “yeah.” 

“I have some allergies medicine in my car.  I can get you some if you want?” John offers, and Liam shook his head, “No, No, I’m good.” 

“John, do you want anything?” You asked as you pointed at all the baked goods on the table.  John smile and nods, “I’ll take whatever,” he said then grabbed a twenty dollar bills from his wallet and handed it to Liam. “I only want one thing so just give the other nineteen free to whoever comes,’ he kindly told him. “So nice,” Tom said through his teeth, “you’re just the best,” Liam added. 

John shyly laughs, “you guys are amazing, doing this to raise money for the city,” the compliment Tom. “We do our best,” the policemen said with a smile. 

“Best person ever,” You told him with a thumbs up as while he rolled his eyes.

“Y/N,” Tom called out once he notices a van pulling in the parking.  

“Yeah?”

“I have a surprise for you,” Tom told you and held up his hand for you to grab. “Ouuu, is it ice cream?” You asked as you intertwine your fingers together with Tom, “It would have melted by now you dummy.” You shrugged, “You’re Thomas Holland so you would have been able to manage,” you said with a smile. “We can go get ice cream later, but you are going to love this surprise,” he concluded.

“Oh my god, are you going to murder me?”

Tom looks down at you, “If I was going to kill your ass, why would I tell you that you will love the surprise? Who the fuck would love getting killed?” He hissed, and you shrugged, “I don’t know, you might be saying that to throw me off track.” You casually told him, “God damn it, you witch; you’re so fucking dumb,” he commented, once again leave it to you to turn everything into a big joke. “Sheesh, Louise, I’m kidding,” you said with a smile as you use her free hand to tug on his arm, “don’t be mad.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “you’re lucky cops are surrounding us,” he cheekily said, making you laugh. “You love me,” you cutely said and let him bring you somewhere. “I’m beginning to wonder if loving you is worth it anymore,” he joked and stopped right in front of a van. “What is this?” You asked him, and he smiles at him, “I wanted you to see it first before I let Maria bring them to the field.”

“Maria?” You said confused, then a tall female came out of the van and made her way towards them with a smile on her face. “That’s Maria,” Tom pointed at the tall girl, “Hi,” Maria kindly waved to you, “I’m Y/N.”

“Maria here works for a nonprofit animal shelter, and her goal today is to get all the dogs and cats in this van adopted.”

“OH MY GOD NO WAY,” You excitedly scream as you let go of Tom and cover your mouth, you started jumping up and down. “She’s excited,” Tom told Maria, and she laughs.

“You are telling me that inside that van are a bunch of fluffy animals?” You asked, and Maria nodded, “That’s right, they are all waiting to be love.” You clapped your hands, “I can do that, Oh my God, I can love the crap out of all the fluffy animals, omg omg omg omg omg.” Maria and Tom are just laughing at how adorable you are being. “Imma needs you to bring the excitement to a minimum,” Tom told you as grab your hand. “Love, can you do that for me? If you can’t, Imma need you to go back or else you are going to scare all the animals there, and Maria will not be able to let you see them.”

 You nod, “I’ll behave just let me see them,” you cutely said making him laugh. “Maria let her at them,” Tom said, letting go of your hand to allow you to follow Maria.  

 TBC 

[onewhoturns]

Fireworks (1/4)

What?? Another?? Damn straight, I’ve written one thing a day just about for the past four days which is insane but here we are.

Fandom: Oxenfree Pairing: Alex/Jonas Chapter: 1/4 Characters: Alex, Jonas, (later) Michael, Ren, Nona, Clarissa Word count: 2437 Rating: T for language Summary: The one saving grace of that first kiss (apart from, well, it wasn’t a bad kiss) -- the one thing she could point to as making the kiss sort of okay, morally -- was that it was in a timeline where they were just friends. Well… okay, maybe the kiss might have changed that. A little? Or maybe it didn’t get a chance to, much, cause Alex was too busy shutting herself away and having a teensy tiny crisis over kissing her sometimes-stepbrother. And then, naturally, as always seemed to happen July 8th, it would be May 1st all over again. or: the First, the Fourth, the Fireworks.

-

She should’ve seen it coming. He’d become her other-brother, the one she went to with the things she wasn’t sure she wanted Michael to know. Even if Michael so often ended up finding out anyway (the awkward moment when Michael realized Jonas had been her emergency ride home from a party at Pat’s where she got a little past shitfaced, that was a memorable one). It’s par for the course, in these realities where Michael is with Clarissa, where Ren is with Nona, that Alex gravitates toward “new in town” Jonas. At least, at this point she’s pretty sure that’s how it goes. She doesn’t remember everything, just bits and pieces and vague feelings. She would remember if she’d kissed him - if he’d kissed her - before, right?

There had been moments, sure, that might’ve hinted at it. Halloween night, when Clarissa wore those red contacts, and Alex was shaken to her very core, Jonas had been the one she drove to the coast with. Staring up at the stars, in comfortable silence, feet knocking against one another lazily. Wrapped up in the ratty blankets from the back of his truck, sitting on the rocks and looking out at the ocean. Not that she’s all that big of a fan of the ocean, either, but it was too cold for anyone to try to pressure her into swimming (and Jonas has never been the type to do that, anyway).

Actually, it was weird-- the first time (this time around, anyway) she’d balked at deep water, everyone had seemed surprised. Like this Alex was a friggin’ fish or something. A couple of panic attacks later, they’d learned not to push it. It was wading or the shallow end for her. And Horn Lake was officially a no-go area.

Maybe that’s why she’s been perhaps a little bit clingy with Jonas at the 4th of July barbeque. She couldn’t convince her parents not to have it at the lake, so instead she brought Jonas along and once there dragged him as far from the water as possible, perching on top of the playground equipment, throwing snap poppers at the ground and lighting sparklers and dollar store smoke bombs and trying to forget the fact that Michael is probably at this very moment swimming in the thing that killed him. In the dark. Like an idiot.

It jolts her heart straight into her throat hearing Clarissa’s yelp of, “Mike!” from the beach. The smile wiped from her face, the sparkler drops to the ground and she’s on her feet in an instant, staring worriedly toward the spot their families are camped for the night’s festivities, but unable to see past the silhouettes of a few bodies gathered around the camplight. But then Clarissa bursts into shrieking giggles and Alex finally breathes again.

“Hey,” Jonas’s voice is soft as he wraps a hand around her wrist, giving a gentle tug. “You alright?”

She might be about 50% of the way to crying when she turns back to him. Maybe. Possibly. Or maybe it’s just the wide-eyed panic that has him suddenly concerned, that small crease between his brows just visible in the mix of moonlight and tree-trunk-filtered LED camplight as he reaches for her other hand as well. “Alex, seriously-- are you okay?”

Her pulse had skyrocketed, but with his thumbs rubbing circles into her palms, it’s a lot easier to come back to herself. She hadn’t realized the memory -- a false memory, now, of something that never even happened -- was still so clear, that it could flash so vividly into her head, no matter how briefly. A noise somewhere between ‘mhm’ and ‘ehhhhh’ croaks from her throat between closed lips.

God, his face is so soft. For someone so good at maintaining his cool (ever-vigilant, after his juvie stint, of keeping his temper in check), Jonas’s expression is pretty transparent. None of the usual wariness she gets from others about her baseless fear of the lake, or her occasional moments of sheer panic. His smile, small and slow and warm, is genuine. Caring. A corner of his lips lifts wryly. “Don’t go all Edwards Island on me, now.”

It’s so easy to step forward, to stand in front of his perch on the stupid plastic wall of the kiddie playground, to step between his knees and rest her forehead on his chest and just breathe. He’s grounding. Dependable. A few breaths of his shirt - his deodorant a scent she’s pretty sure she can pick out of a lineup - has her head a lot clearer.

“...Alex...” His voice is almost hoarse, and he clears his throat.

“I’m okay,” she mutters, and sighs before straightening, pulling her hands from his to rest on his knees, avoiding his eyes. “Just… you know. That thing,” she tilts her head toward the sounds of splashing and laughing and people checking their watches in expectation of imminent fireworks. She’s told him about Michael. Well, in a way. She didn’t go into the whole parallel timelines thing, but he knows she had some kind of experience, or maybe a dream, that made Michael + swimming + lake = terror. He puts a hell of a lot more stock in it than Michael, too.

“Right. Yeah.” He swings his legs a bit, thudding his heels against the hollow rails with a thunk-thunk, thunk-thunk. “...Wanna get out of here?”

Alex shakes her head, staring at the ring that still hangs around Jonas’s neck. “Nah, I’m-- I’ll be fine. Besides, the fireworks are gonna be starting s--” The word isn’t even all the way out of her mouth before she sees as well as feels his shift of attention, looking up to the sky, and a moment later there’s the boom and crackle of the first rocket. She half turns, watching the scattering of sparks floating a bit sideways in the slight breeze. The camplight went out from where the rest of their group had stopped to watch. And then up goes another, another thud and a noise like hard rain on a plastic roof.

She turns to watch the sky, midnight blue, speckles of stars lost in afterimages of the fireworks. A triple explosion - the loudest ones they’ve got, all in a row - brings a smile to her lips. “Nice.”

“Yeah. It’s, um… beautiful.”

Alex scoffs, shooting a glance back at Jonas with a small smirk. “They’re like ten bucks a pop, Jonas, this isn’t some masterful pyrotechnics, just the annual July Fourth ‘extravaganza’ according to a few suburban PTA moms.”

“Heh... Yeah, well. Last year it was me and my dad watching Die Hard on the couch and listening to it all going down outside, so…”

“But Die Hard’s a Christmas movie.” She ignores the teeny touch of guilt that she didn’t invite him last year, after all the Island drama. Then, all she’d wanted was to be around her flesh-and-blood, no-longer-dead brother. This year, though, with all the graduation festivities over and done with, with Clarissa and Michael both home for the summer and both families chattering at each other constantly any time they’re in close proximity, Alex was way too eager to have a friend to hang with.

“Oh, we watch it then, too. Sandwiched between Trading Places and Gremlins.”

She narrows her eyes for a second, unsure if he’s serious, before elbowing him in the stomach, rolling her eyes. He hooks an arm around her to keep from taking a ten foot fall to the ground, pulling her back against him as she snorts, “Seriously, you guys have the weirdest traditions.”

“Hey, I take personal offense at that.” He flicks her in the arm, and when she bats his hand away, and he teeters once more, he wrestles her arms to her sides. “Alex I swear, if you push me off this thing and my legs stop working I will never forgive you.”

She’s smirking, but let’s him hold on. “Optimistic. I think I’d aim for paralysis from the neck down.”

“Well you’re the overachiever.”

Another burst of one, three, one, four explosions, and they’ve fallen into companionable silence. In a brief pause between pops, Alex muses, “You know, I heard three years ago one of the firework engineers almost lost an eye.”

“Hm.” She doesn’t get much more than that from him, and then there’s another pop-crackle-pop-pop-BOOM and his hold tightens a little.

“Scared?” she teases, as the sky clears again, in anticipation of the finale. She’s pretty sure that’s his heart she feels thudding against her shoulder. “You never told me your family has a history of losing eyes to pyrotechnical accidents.” Seriously, is he having a heart attack?

“Alex…” His voice is quiet, maybe hesitant, close to her ear.

She huffs out a small laugh, “Relax, I’m just-” But when she turns to reassure him their lips meet and-- Jesus Christ, they’re kissing, when did they start kissing? Her eyes close for a fraction of a second before the fireworks crackle through the air and she blinks back into her senses and pulls away. “What the hell--?”

“Shit, I’m-- Sorry, I--” He lets go of her immediately, and she can feel the heat off his skin even if she can’t see his blush as she stumbles a step away. “I didn’t-- That’s-- Fuck, my bad.”

She thinks maybe she should be leaving, walking back to her family, glaring at Jonas for kissing her so suddenly, but instead stands, dumbly, a foot out of his reach. She’s just… baffled. Confused? Perplexed.

Jonas’s head falls into his hands as he groans. “God, that was--” He’s mumbling into his palms, “Can we just pretend that didn’t happen?”

Alex stares for a second. Because, she’s just… there’s a lot happening in her head right now. Specifically, after mentions of Christmas, she’s remembering that awkward moment at Ren’s Christmas party, running into Jonas in a doorway, catching him spotting mistletoe and very quickly stepping out of her way, face flushed from what she’d initially assumed was the spiked punch. And maybe there had been glances across the front seat on those midnight drives, the way he looked at her when she stuck her head out the window and howled at the sky, that grin he gave her, and the look in his eyes. Tracing the lines of her palm hanging over the side of the couch as Ren and Nona battled it out button-smashing, as everyone threw taunts and jeers at game night. That time she’d had a nightmare and called him at 4am and he answered (with only minor complaint).

...Okay. Maybe she’d… um… maybe…

A hand is rubbing at his neck awkwardly, head hanging low, feet tapping a quick nervous rhythm close to the bars, super audible in the silence now that the fireworks are over and done.

Alex has never been particularly good with romance. She has, in fact, been notoriously obtuse when it comes to people liking her. Case in point, apparently. But she does like Jonas. And it’s definitely not the same way she likes Ren, or Nona, or even Michael. She loves him, really, just never considered it a physical thing, never thought that maybe it could be something… else. He’s her best friend. Closer than Ren in a shorter amount of time. She’s just… surprised, that’s all. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t something settling in the pit of her stomach. Something not nearly as unpleasant as she might have expected.

She probably looks more angry that she feels, brow furrowed as she steps toward him. But she’s not angry. Just… trying to figure out what exactly she’s about to do. And really trying to ignore that nagging feeling in her head that this is one in an infinite number of timelines where too often this is not okay.

A tentative step forward and she’s between his knees once more, fingers resting on denim. He drops his hands and glances up; ashamed, hopeful, mortified. “Honestly, Alex, that was way out of line, I shouldn’t have-” His voice stutters to a halt as she brings her face closer to his. Her gaze shifts from his eyes to his mouth-- she’s just to his right, glancing away for a second, and she spots his hands gripped tight to his perch, and she turns back, and her eyelashes brush his cheek as she noses into his space, and then--

Their lips are touching. Again.

It’s… nice, actually. Better when he breathes her in and seems to melt against her and his hands wrap around her waist like he’s scared she’ll pull away again. Her heart is in her throat for a completely different reason now, because this is the closeness she likes with him-- only better, closer, but not in a way that makes her feel awkward or uncomfortable or… It’s just… really nice. Kissing him.

When she breaks the kiss, she doesn’t pull back, only moves to rest her cheek on his shoulder. There’s a pause, a moment when she realizes her heart is beating as hard as his was earlier, and she lets out a short huff of breath.

“Um…”

But whatever he’s going to say, it’s interrupted with a call from the beach. The camplight is on again. “Alex? Alex honey, we’re just about packed. It’s getting late.”

She’s not sure when her palms went to Jonas’s chest, but they leave it now, stepping away once more, only for him to catch one hand.

“Want to go for a drive?” It’s hopeful, maybe a little anxious, even though the request is one he’s made - hell, she’s made - time and time again. “Or-- or I can just give you a ride home, or…”

She shifts from one foot to the other, avoiding his expectant gaze. Instead her free hand traces the chain, hooks briefly into the ring around his neck. Shit-- She lets go, steps away again, pulling out of his grasp. And he lets her go, of course he does, and she wonders if she’d spot his expectations falling if she were brave enough to look. “I’m… look, I’ll…” The breath feels forced from her lungs in a puff of air. “Not tonight.”

And she feels like an idiot for it -- feels guilty and stupid because that’s just mean, leaving him like that -- but she leaves the remnants of sparklers and smoke bombs and poppers scattered on the ground (in a poor display of responsibility) and walks back to the picnic site not quite too fast, but with a kind of determination that only comes from pointedly avoiding thinking about potentially really fucking up a relationship thanks to an awkward kiss in the dark.

[elizagailofhousestark-blog]

A complete theory on the history and intentions of the lake entity in It Lives Beneath

(This information has been updated as of Chapter 10. The first part of this theory involves the history of The Power and the Cult in Westchester)

TL;DR: The ghost in the lake is MC’s grandmother

Beginnings of Pine Springs

In the year 1970, the AMC Gremlin car was produced and popularized. This was the vehicle which the journal author drove upon moving to a cabin in the woods near the river, which we can safely assume to be located in present-day Pine Springs. At that time, The Power was a “curious and playful” entity that encompassed the woods and waters in the neighboring towns of Westchester and Pine Springs. Within months after arrival, the journal author unintentionally established a connection with The Power, was compelled towards the house ruins in Westchester, saw Redfield, and met Cora.

Also in 1970, exactly fifty years prior to the Lake Day celebration in ILB, the town of Pine Springs was founded. According to Astrid, The Society– which is a cult that claims to be protectors of The Power in Pine Springs– was formed shortly after. Meanwhile, a development company attempted to buy the land which the journal author occupied. The author refused, and made a decision to protect The Power absolutely.

Eventually, the development company succeeded. Pine Springs became urbanized. A dam was built for water storage, irrigation, power generation, flood control, and other industrial uses. The flow of the river near the journal author’s home was restricted to create the dam– also known as a reservoir or an artificial lake. Later on, the water level in the lake was drained to make way for more mansions in the Lakefront Neighborhood.

Negative environmental impacts of dams

Now to make it clear, dams are highly beneficial to human civilizations. Dams do not pollute the water or air, and they are efficient substitutes to the more destructive fossil fuel consumption. However, constructing dams can also harm nature in numerous ways.

Dams take up a huge area of land for them to work. Entire forests need to be cut down.

The rivers which provide the water source for the dams need to have their flows obstructed, or reversed on opposite ends of the dam. Hydroelectric power plants also change the temperature of the water. These changes may disrupt the balance of ecological systems in the river and the surrounding land.

Migratory fish species are affected. In the Columbia River along the border of Oregon, salmon must swim upstream to their spawning grounds to reproduce but the series of dams gets in their way. Fish and other organisms can also be injured or killed by the turbine blades.

Due to sedimentation, reservoirs will have higher amounts of nutrients which cultivate an excess of algae and other weeds. These weeds consume large amounts of oxygen as they decompose, creating oxygen-starved dead zones incapable of supporting river life of any kind.

If too much water is stored in dams, downstream rivers can dry up.

Methane and carbon dioxide, strong greenhouse gasses, may also form in some reservoirs and be emitted to the atmosphere.

The town founders and the first members of The Society

At this point, it is clear why The Power would have been against the dam’s construction. However, Astrid, who is the current leader of The Society that claims to be protectors of The Power, is also a real estate company owner. Her husband Vincent, another cultist, is a corporate lawyer– a profession that protects capitalism and industrialization. In Chapter 10, Chief Kelley, also a cultist, confirmed that the town founders were the ones who dammed the river and cut down the forests. He also mentions that they would have been proud of him now for his services to the town.

Therefore, it is my theory that the cultists today are heirs of the town founders, who were also the first members of The Society. Those same people exploited The Power against its own interest of preserving nature. They harnessed power to gain wealth and influence, and to put themselves on top of the economic pyramid.

What happened to the first cultists?

Chief Kelley angrily asserted that the founders had to make a huge sacrifice for the town. What could have been this sacrifice?

In ILITW, the MC discovers that there were “two mass murders in Westchester, in the same woods, within 100 years of one another.” The first one happened on October 31, 1871. The fourteen members of The Arcane Society of Westchester communed to perform a ritual but Redfield attempted to hog The Power for himself, got consumed, and was turned into the monster in the woods. The second instance happened on August 22, 1976.

It is highly probable that the victims of that incident were the cultists/ town founders. As of writing, we have no way of confirming if it was indeed a massacre or a mass suicide– if they were murdered by The Power or if they sacrificed themselves. However, we do know two other instances of group deaths. One was in 1871 when Redfield became the monster. The ritual went wrong when Redfield hogged The Power. The cultists were massacred, then Cora and the few other survivors worked to bind Redfield later on. The second was in September of 2017 if you did not gain enough nerve points for your friends in ILITW. In that instance, Jane murdered the “cult members” in order to free herself. Both of those massacres resulted in someone becoming a new monster who is fused with The Power.

I theorize that the author of the journal, after getting the idea from Cora’s story about Redfield, desperately resorted to joining The Society. She also attempted to hog The Power for herself so she can stop her fellow cultists from using it for the wrong reasons. In the process, she became the ghost entity in the lake. But who is she?

The identity of the ghost in the lake

At first, we are led to believe that the journal author is male, because he was able to fix the house all by himself. Some popular theories claim that Grandpa Arthur is the journal author after all and the house he lives in is the same cabin in the woods. But if this is the case, then why would the journal entries present themselves to MC in the form of ghostly bottles? If Grandpa intended for MC to know about his history, he could have just told MC directly. Furthermore, Grandpa mentioned that he has been paying mortgage in the last 30 years, but the journal author owned the cabin and had no landlord.

Another hint that the journal author could have been female is when she wrote: “That development group has found a cunning new tactic: they sent a handsome man in a little bowtie to knock on my door. He had a nice smile and he was quick with the witty chit-chat.” (Of course, this could also be an evidence to the author being a male homosexual, but how could the development company have known that?)

If you pay close attention, you will notice that there are many significant parallels in the plot and timeframe of the events in ILITW and the ones in ILB. Because of this pattern, it would make sense that the journal author ended up becoming the female lake entity, just as Redfield– the letter writer– ended up becoming the monster in the woods.

Finally, the most compelling evidence I have that the journal author is the same person as the female lake entity is this: Noah/ILITW MC (the monster) knew that the way to communicate with the lake entity is written in a book found in Cora’s house. Since Cora is also a cultist who met the journal author, she would have known how to talk her.

Having established that, I will now leap into my theory that the lake entity is MC’s grandmother. (By the way, the ghost can’t possibly be MC’s mom because she died only 2 weeks before MC came to Pine Springs and her body can’t possibly be reduced to bones already. Plus MC and Elliot obviously would have buried their parents.)

The following are the evidences for my claim:

The lake entity had been drowning people in the lake for 20 years [acc. to Ned], and yet in Chapter 9, she somehow recognized MC who has only been in Pine Springs for a week. The only possible explanation for this recognition is if they share the same blood, or if the ghost can see a resemblance of her own daughter (MC’s mom) in MC.

It is the only plausible explanation of why Grandpa would choose to be associated to the cult. Perhaps he is looking for a way to free his wife or avenge her by infiltrating the cult. Note that he is the only one among them who is poor. As to his speech that he wanted to harness The Power to live longer, it seems hard to believe that an old man who has no family or riches would want to live longer in this world.

It has been repeatedly emphasized that the lake entity is angry about something that had hurt her. The ghost of the grandmother behaves similarly to MC and Elliot in this way:

MC is at least 18 years old because he/she is of legal age and is in college. When MC was seven years old, his/her biological father left his/her mom who ended up with Todd and gave birth to Elliot. Therefore, MC is at least seven years older than Elliot and Elliot is a pubescent teenager who is likely between ages 13-16. This puts MC’s age closer to 20 years or above. Now remember MC mentioned that they never met Grandpa Arthur. This means that their mom left Pine Springs at least 20 years ago. Perhaps she left Pine Springs to protect her unborn baby from the danger of knowing about the cult.

Now, I have no evidence for this, but I also think that a cult member needs an heir to pass his/her rank onto (or maybe to sacrifice later on). Astrid and Vincent Wescott have Imogen. Richard Sutcliffe has Robbie. Grandpa had MC’s mom. Perhaps Chief Kelley adopted Parker so he can be his heir. If this is true, it can explain why MC’s mom left Pine Springs: because she did not want her child to eventually be associated with the cult.

So why did the cult kill MC’s mother? Why did they save MC and Elliot from the lake entity? If the lake entity is their grandmother, why did she attempt to drown MC and Elliot?

Why the lake entity is drowning people

The ghost in the lake has been drowning people by luring them towards the water. According to Ned, his wife was the third victim that year, Kyle was the second this month, and it has been happening more frequently of late.

“The Power’s true strength comes from its connection with its followers. [Cora]” The more cult members there are and the more frequently they interact with The Power, the stronger both parties get. By trapping Dan in the clearing, Jane lured the ILITW gang into the woods so she can establish a connection with them and become stronger. When Goddard asked a member of The Arcane Society of Westchester if he could join them, the member was delighted and immediately agreed. Similarly, the cult in Pine Springs has been benefiting from recruiting more members, which is exactly how a pyramid scheme works.

In ILITW, a doctor took note of the pattern of an epidemic in Westchester which is characterized by an influx of coma patients, closely followed by the death of one or more people, and then a period of quiet. Cora revealed that when The Power grows too strong just as Jane did, it tends to feed on the life force of human beings who could fall into a coma or eventually die.

Perhaps The Power needs to feed on more people just as the The Society recruits more members. However, It does not make sense why the cult would want to put the ghost to rest because then, it would sever their connection and consequentially, their powers too.

What the ghost in the lake wants

It could be merely coincidental, but the drownings began 20 years ago, at the same time that MC’s mom left Pine Springs. This is a bold leap of intuition, but I think that the key to putting the soul of the grandmother to rest lies in her own blood or DNA. (Grandpa Arthur said this kind of power requires blood and sacrifice, and Imogen had to offer a drop of blood during the initiation.)

The only three people with whom the lake entity shares her blood are MC, Elliot, and their mother. When Vincent drove MC and Elliot home, he made sure to check if they have any other relatives, and MC confirmed that they do not.

Perhaps the cultists who betrayed the rest of The Society killed MC’s mom so that her blood could no longer be used to put the ghost to rest.

I do not have an explanation as to why Astrid saved MC and Elliot from the ghost and what the cult intends to do with them, but it is worth noting that the ghost tried to get her hands on MC five separate times, and on Elliot two separate times. Perhaps she recognizes them as her kin and perhaps she understands that their blood is the key to freeing her soul. Nevertheless, I strongly believe that she hasn’t killed Elliot yet.

Finally, we know that the lake entity and the cultists hate each other because of the massacre that happened in 1976, and when she repeatedly says “Kill them all”, she could be telling MC to kill all the cultists.

As the story progresses, we will see which cultists have good and bad intentions.

(Further theory: Proof that Vincent and Kelley are lying)

[zozammer]

Restraint

In the Talmud, they say that you should work on one thing at a time, especially if you have two jobs. Never answer to your second job when doing your first. One must be whole heartedly committed to the task and service at hand.

So no phone calls, no emails and correspondence, ideation, or errands regarding. 

I have been having a lot on my mind lately, so a bit scattered and not sharp enough. I will continue after this thought. I found myself best when I’m focused to one cause and one cause alone. The learning is so much faster, funner, and sharper. To exert restraint in terms of greed for variety. To do a thing really well.

Still learn to reign all my horses in. Have to let go off a pony or two. Maybe one shining black stallion, or a loyal sturdy mule.

Where does restraint come from?

I didn’t celebrate Passover this year but a new friend from the synagogue sent me this; The 49 days of Omer, this being the 3rd day. 

There is love and there is beautiful love. True love includes empathy and compassion which makes it a beautiful love. Love is often fostered in expectation of reciprocity. Real love is expressed even when one gets nothing in return; even when the other doesn't deserve love. Tiferet is giving also to those that have hurt you. It acknowledges the discipline of gevurah and says that, nevertheless, compassionate love calls for helping all.

Exercise for the day: Offer a helping hand to a stranger.

Tiferet.

This is miles away from where I’m at today. Today, I don’t feel like giving when I’m not being given. I am fairly abusive to anyone around me because I have a lot on my plate and I’m just trying to do right by myself. I don’t have time for anyone else. Somewhere I’ve told myself that it’s only I who gets myself in and out of trouble. And at the end of the day, it’s I who’s going to love myself and take care of things. By that math, I put myself first and anyone else with non reciprocative demands gets a turn, but after my own needs are met.

Not like I don’t help, just do it with slight resentment and a tinge of loftiness.

I keep trying to exert my heart but the little “What About Me” gremlin creeps up and reminds me of my lack of resources and time.

I have not been exerting restraint with my words for a long time. It’s because I’m always bleeding, even if it’s just a little bit. Wonder if I will ever get over the greed. Self-pity is a kind of greed we exert on our hearts.

I like going to my office because it’s the amount of human interaction I enjoy and find just.

- I get paid and valued for my effort.

- everyone is civil and no one is up in your business.

- the requirement is straightforward

- and thus, the judgment is appropriate

Everything else is a drain of my time and resources. Things are not worth it if they aren’t fun. Period. 

One life.

Along the years, I’ve become my own kind of fun with a plethora of hobbies and introspections to keep myself entertained. I don’t have a very amazing impression of relationships, no. I seem to only be burned by humans due to an ultimate lack of acceptance for who I am, good and bad and perhaps. a lack of acceptance for who they are with their manuals. 

Met a lot of narrow minded shit heads in my wake, despite the empathy/maturity/second chances. Understood the shallow game real well. None of us escape it. And while, my interests are beyond, I know I have to keep the illusion in mind, if I’m going to thrive in the jungle.

I don’t trust human beings, no. There’s not much one can do to surprise me in terms of selfishness and self preservation. Except I have no interest in looking like the fool.

(sometimes I end up acting like a real tool in the process.)

Thus, my restraint is calculated and measured, not very empathetic, if it ever exists. I don’t temper my words because I have nothing to lose. Slightly reckless sometimes.

(Some would read this and not apply it to themselves, assuming I’m writing this for a special condition. It’s happened before with readers, why I keep a gentle distance from people. Restraining myself from using the word idiot here, oh well.)

Sometimes the restraint is natural. When I feel warm fuzz towards someone.

Not a rare condition, no. But it has its limitations. My patience runs very thin with all when I get a whiff of deceit or disrespect or aimless argument. One could call me fairly ruthless once you push me to the edge. With the increasing number of betrayals, I care less and less. It’s how I protect and preserve myself. As mentioned, I’m good at keeping myself entertained and I value independent thought over group mindset (irksome).

{ Newsflash, I’m happily unmarried. Not interested in picking up after his laundry and bullshit. Be the roast of his jokes, ignored and minimised, constantly challenged and expected to be this perfect thing, put up with the chauvinism and his mommy. All for the sake of societal approval that I’m worthy of his ‘love’ and a being thought a ‘complete’ person... Pardon the rant. }

... I want much more.

and I’m not going to get it any time soon, not by a long shot unless I work hard. 

I don’t miss it no, the presence of a lover. It’s not worth it.

I don’t think men / people are worth it in the face of bullshit.

I’ll be damned before I’m put down ever again - that’s where I’m at.

Tiferet.

Metta.

Unconditional love towards all beings.

It’s hard. Specially when you’re angered. When you’re not able to match up to the invisible standards around you. Always being evaluated, matched, compared, challenged, ignored, pushed over. When the only choice you seem to have is to establish strength. Inner, Outer, Ovular. 

Inner strength is abused by most.

I tried creating this visualisation exercise in my office to calm myself down at work an hour back.

I imagined insults being hurled at me, allowing them to physically leave and move past me, as light as air. Imagined the words enter me and move out of my back. Imagined my feeble ego being calmed so that she may not try and cling on to either praise or grumble.

I imagined myself welling up with a word and then asking my soul to generously let it go.

To have clarity, I’m guessing you must be clear yourself. Like air, maybe like water. Thinking being water is calming, but slower.

Imagined a soft pink light around me, and the strength/ wisdom/ intelligence to never hold on to words. 

To change my perception of words, no matter who they come from. 

HARD, because it’s easy.

Watched a discourse by Sri M the other day. He seems like a taskmaster, like a Sensei. Vedanta is a very elaborate subject, and I got a whiff of it from his discourse as he spoke of Arjuna and Krishna from the Mahabharata (the Bhagavad Gita). Krishna talks about becoming a Yogi. The yogi is greater than the ritualist. 

To be a true yogi, that is a meditator or a practitioner, is greater than any ascetic, ritualist, or professor.

http://ww.krks.name/the-eighteen-yogas-of-the-bhagavad-gita-6-the-yoga-of-meditation-dhyana-yoga/ 

He goes on to talk about who a yogi is. Put simply, someone who tirelessly works to maintain equanimity; someone who doesn’t care about the result and works towards a path diligently. 

{ - Like Megillah : in the spiritual world, it is effort, not result, that matters most. 

https://www.sefaria.org/Megillah.6b?lang=bi }

Applying restraint over negativity requires hard work. 

Hard work comes from faith, even when there isn’t clarity. 

Whom or what shall I have faith in?

Sri M says that whenever one feels insignificant, dejected, or small, one should remember their connection to the divinity that rests like a tender light in one’s heart.

J. Krishnamurti says would ask you to see the matter for what it is. To observe your state and observe the thing being said, without condemnation. To release the idea of the self and thus, immediately, the struggle.

Thich Nhat Hanh would ask you to acknowledge the suffering within you and in front of you, and express metta to all. To lend understanding.

Where to start.

First, Release.

Second, practice and be present.

A simple reminder and determined choice, not to hurt. Ahimsa

(Hard.)

[soft-jaw]

She stirred, she lay on her side facing the window that was centered in the wall her bed was pushed up against. It was closed shut, curtains drawn. Starlight pressed against the other side, just peeking through. The exposed skin on her arms was coated in gooseflesh that prickled, almost stinging. She shivered despite the soft white noise emanating from the grates in her floor. It usually soothed her, helped her find sleep against the silence of the house.

There was a low moan in the night outside. She thought at first it was the wind but upon moving the curtain aside, she saw the trees stood still in the dark. The sparse pines in the stretching yard looked static against the lawn. The chainlink fence at the far end rattled ominously as she stared bleary eyed into the distance. Nothing is there, she thought, you’re just half asleep. She rolled over to face away from it, curling into a ball as she drew the covers tighter around herself.

The fence rattled again, she imagined a raccoon climbing over it. Skittering, moving hurriedly in search of scraps to pilfer from the neighborhood trash before the sun rose up to expose it. She wondered if that low moan was in her mind, it was almost somber. It felt like a voice from the hills, she imagined a tree falling down upon the shape of a man. Breaking his body as one low death moan escaped his lungs and became part of the forest sounds around him. She imagined the opening of a cave, air from deep within the earth seeping out like a cold rattling breath. The scent of dirt and slippery moss filled her nose, she could almost feel some slick subterranean surface at the bottoms of her feet. Moisture dripping from long stalagmites and plunking into the rock below, wearing it away. A place worn down for her, a perfect fit.

She felt like she was falling, down and down and then jolted awake, her breath heavy in her throat. Something turned her around, she stared out of the window into the darkness of the yard as if she was called by some voice in the distance. Beyond the chain link fence was marshland, it stank in the summer and boasted mosquito swarms and dragonfly eggs. The wet ground would suck your shoes off if you weren’t careful, sharp grasses grew in towering tufts with cattails and sedges. It wasn’t often if even at all that anyone would venture through it. But she knew beyond that expanse of muck was a small island. All but hidden by the reedy brush, the inky pines that marked it stuck out at the right vantage. And when the snow packed down upon itself in winter and smothered the marsh, they stood stark and still with white caps to soften them. Sometimes, she thought, they looked like black fangs. In winter they looked like molars.

She had gone there last summer with her brother, they wore big rubber fisherman's waders that belonged to their father and stank of bug spray that had made her choke when applied. She had lived beside it for so many years and had never, not once, explored the marsh. But he was visiting home from university and had been struck by a drunken idea the night before, when they stumbled inside the front door long after their father had gone to bed.

Once the bars closed and their friends had all filtered home, she saw an odd look cross his eye. Perhaps it was the thrum of the cicadas as they walked, or the smell of wet earth that had suddenly slid into the night air as they turned onto their street from the main road.

“Remember that night, when I was twelve? When I went in?” His tone was nostalgic, but he didn’t look it. His face was blank, an emotionless mask that covered the cheerful drunk he had been just moments ago.

“I do, I remember.” She mused, she smiled wryly at him but he didn’t look. His eyes were on the marsh, though you could only see it in between the houses. She felt cold despite the warm summer night. “I always wanted to ask you about that.”

“I know,” He said, glancing at her, his smile returned as they passed a long ranch style home just a few blocks down from theirs. “I found something. Something you wouldn’t believe unless you saw it yourself.” Her skin prickled, he went silent again as they passed between houses, the marsh was lit well by the moonlight. It seemed to emanate a wafting glow, the thought of marsh gas crossed her mind. Natural fumes refracting the moonlight, the smell of decay caused her to stop, eyes skirting over the curb half expecting to find roadkill rotting in the gutter. He paused a few steps ahead, having to tear his eyes from the marsh to face her.

“What did you find? Treasure? Gremlins?” She waved her fingers wickedly at him, half joking, half nervous. What was there to find in some bog in your backyard? “Mammoth bones?”

“You’ll have to come with me, little sister. You’ll have to come and see.” A car passed them then, headlights washing over his face caused the cloudy look to fade. “Wanna race?” As soon as the words left his mouth she was running, it was a game they had played since childhood. Once one of them says race, they would run, half the fun was getting the head start. Shooting off in a sprint before the other could even finish the phrase.

“It’ll be an adventure, we’ll go in the morning, once dad leaves for work!” He hollered, panting a few steps behind her as she sprinted down the sidewalk. As she got older, her determination to run faster than him grew and now he was the one trailing behind. She whooped as she reached the front door of their two story house, sliding in the key and unlocking it happily as he crossed the stoop behind her.

He promised to wake her in the morning, and they retired to their childhood bedrooms to sleep.

He had to show her what he had discovered all those years ago. What he had festered over for so, so long.

He had never brought up that night to her before, but she knew exactly what he was referring to. She was there too, not in the marsh but watching curiously from her window. The same one she gazed out of now, with a numbness washing over her. She remembered the flash of his form, so much smaller then, as he climbed the fence and clambered into the reeds. She had watched for hours that night, she saw his flashlight beam finally wash over those trees and disappear.

She had watched still, when hours later he crawled out of the mud at the edge of the marsh and climbed back over the fence. The sun was tugging the night gently just beyond, but it resisted the dawn that morning. She was in a daze as she descended the stairs in silence to receive him.

She was the only one left awake, the only one who knew where he went as he slipped into the night for some adolescent thrill. And she was the only one who greeted him from the shadows at the bottom of the stairs, entranced by how easily it would have been for him to disappear completely.

He gave her an odd look when he slipped through the back door. He was only twelve then but he looked ragged, his hair slicked back with drying mud and face stickered by plant matter. His some odd teenage years hung on him like he had seen centuries instead, his eyes flat and dark. He removed his filthy clothing, letting it fall wetly to the ground before stuffing it all in a trash bag that he took outside. He barely acknowledged her. She felt like she was witnessing a murderer get rid of evidence, calm, cool, collected. Determined to become clean again.

She felt like it was a private ritual, like she was intruding, and returned to her bedroom. The house was silent after that, the heater kicking on after a while to wind her down. They slept late into the afternoon, and barely spoke the rest of that day.

She had never liked being in the backyard alone. Something about that wet tangle just beyond the fence made her queasy. The anaerobic soil smelled sulfuric in the heat and the insects cried all night, high pitched tones that waned and crescendoed eerily if that’s all you could hear when the house went dark. Even the tall grass made a noise as it whipped in the wind. Their parents warned them not to climb the fence but her brother always did it anyway. And he was the only one. He never got far before their father called his name loudly from the back porch or whatever open window he had spied his son misbehaving from. And her brother would clamber back over the fence, shoulders hunched and sulking.

They never spoke of what he had found in the dark in the marsh, but something burned in her to know. The same look had been in his eye then, as adults, they waded in. She had a thick flannel shirt on despite the bright summer morning and was sweating heavily, the gardening gloves on her hands didn’t help either. Silence hung between them as they walked and panted for their effort. It was rough terrain and the water was often above her knees, they moved slowly towards the center. She was afraid she might sink into the ground or get stuck in the reeds, but her brother had brought a small gardening sickle for clearing brush. She followed his every step, feeling like she was in a trance after a while. She was a shadow clinging to his back as he did all the hard work.

When they reached the small island it was midday. She realized they hadn’t even eaten breakfast and turned around to look for the house behind them from the higher ground. They weren’t as far away as she had thought. She could turn back and find her way if she had to. She wanted to turn back. Her brother watched as she had her back turned.

“We should hurry, I want to get it over with.” He said, his voice flat. It lacked the feverish charisma that had convinced her to join him the night before. He had made it seem exciting then, an adventure, like something great would be waiting for them at the end. But he wouldn’t say what.

“Get what over with?” They stared at each other for a while, like it was a standoff. But he never answered, and turned after a while to walk into the trees.

The pines were packed in a dense cluster ahead, their dark needles vibrating in the breeze. They looked like teeth, like daggers. Like stalagmites drip-dripping in the dark. She had seen them from afar a thousand times and they never changed. There were no pinecones on the needle strewn ground, just some rocks and small white mushrooms growing in the shade.

Her brother pushed into them and she followed closely, a strong sense of unease washed over her as they walked. Through the trees was a mound, a natural entrance into the earth. It looked like the rock had just split, ripped up to reveal something they shouldn’t know about. The tallest pines grew on top of it, their roots stuck out oddly from the thick layer of black soil atop the rock. Like they were grasping out, if not for air... then...

“I’m not going in there. I don’t like tight spaces.” She said, he gave her that odd look again, eyes flat and cold and dark. Like a hole in the earth looked out from them. He said nothing, grasped the roof of stone above the cave mouth and slid inside.

Like a meal. Her stomach growled then, she was so hungry. She couldn’t follow him. She sat on the ground instead, waiting for him to come out. He would be laughing, he was pulling her leg. She shivered, filled with a sickly feeling of anticipation as she sat in the shade of the pines..

Hours slipped by, she felt as if she had been sitting there for an eternity. Her brother remained in the hole. She thought of shouting into it, he could have been hurt. He could be dead. But she felt as if the hole would pull her in, and decided against it. There was something wrong with it. There was something wrong with the trees and how they blocked out the ever present whine of the marsh. She wondered then if he would find his way out as he did so many years ago, when they were children and only she had known he was lost in the night.

She wondered what it contained, what was waiting for her beneath the dark soil. It was all out of place in the landscape beyond, different terrain. It felt like sitting in a bubble made to look like a real place, it was just that it wasn’t a place that belonged where it was found. There was no land similar to it anywhere nearby. The cave was off putting as well, the way it jutted open so perfectly, as if it were placed with intent. It was just big enough for a grown man to fit, and reminded her of a water slide; the kind at amusement parks that shot you down twists and turns encased inside a plastic tube. But the opening was dark, and the silence of the clearing was deafening. Her mind struggled to stay clear, thoughts wouldn’t form normally there. She wondered what drew him to it, again and again after so many years. Maybe it was harmless, it was just a hole in the ground after all. But there was such a sick feeling inside her, such anxiety that she knew in her bones she shouldn’t dare go inside.

She was filled with desperation, not knowing what to do but knowing she couldn’t bring herself to stay. She would walk home to eat and call the police. They would send firemen or some sort of rescue service and her brother would be fine. She finally stood and ran from the clutch of pines and searched for their path in the marsh. Her brother had the sickle with him when he descended. The reeds pulled at her body as she struggled back to the house. She didn't have him to lead her now, and it was hard to tell what direction she was going. The grasses seemed too tall, the ground was too soft and uneven to run over or even walk easily.

It took her hours it seemed, the sun had fallen by the time she flopped back onto the lawn, exhausted. She was frenzied, filled with adrenaline the whole time. Like she was being preyed upon, like she was escaping the maw of some jungle cat nipping at her heels. She felt insanity pulling at her temples as she rose again before she lacked the energy, and scaled the chainlink fence. A force of dread washed over her when she landed clumsily on the ground in their backyard. The fence rattled and she sprinted into the door on their deck. She chalked it up to the force of her climbing it and toppling over and didn’t look back as she slammed the door, turned the bolt, and locked it. As she started walking wearily towards the kitchen, someone tried the doorknob. Twisting it roughly from the outside, she stifled a scream with her hand when her brother’s face peered into the window. She felt she would be sick.

“Let me in, I’m cold.” He said, his voice was odd. It sounded warped through the wall of the house. It was too clear in her head, she thought she ought not be able to hear him at all. Shaking, she affixed the door chain and cracked it open. He looked wrong, his eyes too dark to be his. His hair was slicked back with dried mud and his smile was wide. She wanted him to be joking.

“What was that?” She whispered, her teeth grit together so hard it hurt her jaw.

“Why did you leave? You left me there.” There was no emotion in his voice, no explanation.

“I didn’t know what happened, you were being so vague! You know I don’t like tight spaces.”

“You should have just followed me.” His dirty fingers grasped the door near the chain.

“Why would I follow you into some dirty hole?” He looked angry then, as if she had insulted him.

“I wanted to show it to you. You’ve always wondered.”

“Why can’t you just tell me, instead? I don’t want to see it. It’s scary.” She would go if she knew what was waiting for them, she hated the not-knowing. She couldn’t understand why he wouldn’t just tell her.

“It’s not scary. It’s safe.”

“What if you got trapped? And suffocated or starved to death down there?” Tears were streaming hotly from her eyes then, running into her mouth. She wiped them away.

“It’s safe for us. We should go back together.” He sounded insane, he sounded pleading but without the inflection. She could feel his desperation, it emanated palpably from his dark eyes.

“I’m never going there again, you’re not making any sense!” She was practically screaming now, she had reached her limit of rationality. She would NOT go back.

“It will make sense once you see it!” He screamed back, trying to open the door despite the chain, she could hear the bolt begin ripping from the frame.

“I’m not going!” She slammed the door on his hand, and when he recoiled from it, she closed it firmly and locked it. Running up and into her bedroom, where she cried. Hoarse, body racking sobs that left her gasping on the floor. She would talk to him in the morning. She wouldn’t go back.

But when morning came, the waders she had thrown on the kitchen floor were gone and the damp and dirty clothes from her hamper had disappeared. Her brother was asleep in his bed, looking clean and alive again. He had gotten in somehow, or had it just been a dream that left her laying in front of her bedroom door?

She didn’t wait around for him to get up, she showered and went off to work, then out to dinner with a friend. The house was dark when she returned, it was empty. Her father had gone out that day as well, off to work or some other errand. She hadn’t seen him before leaving but she hadn’t heard from him either, no calls or texts about any mess or the fight they had at the back door.

She returned to her room and sat on the bed, knees curled beneath her chin as she cradled herself. She tried to calm her racing thoughts and breathed deeply, eyes closed for a while. Then she heard the rattle of the chainlink fence.

The sun had just sunk beyond the horizon, there was no moon that night. Just pinhole stars splattering the dark sky. But something triggered the light on the back porch and washed the yard in yellow tones. She could see her brother, standing there in the dark with his eyes on her window. He looked like a shadow, like something she ought not see for sanity’s sake. He rattled the fence with one hand then climbed up and over it again. He watched her from the other side. She couldn’t hear him from where she was but she knew he was saying her name, beckoning her. She wouldn’t go back there. She wouldn’t go back. And so he turned from her then and returned to the hole in the marsh, and she hadn’t seen him since.

Nobody came looking, nobody wondered. Pictures of him disappeared, over time, as if he had faded. His bedroom had been turned into an office when she was away. There was no evidence of the brother she knew had been there. He had been there, he had. But now only she could feel him, waiting.

Their mother had passed when they were young, some sickness took her before they could understand what sickness was. Her father had never remarried, never dated. He worked and cared for them, and sat in his armchair after dinner every night. But somehow even he hadn’t noticed his son was gone.

Their lives went on without him, it had seemed. Yet still some nights she swore she could hear him at the fence, calling her. Still some nights she wondered if she had cracked her psyche somehow, and he only existed in her mind as part of some delusion. Then she would look at her palm and see a small scar he had caused with a stick in the yard when they were children. Even still at times she forgot him too, during the day she barely thought of him at all. But night brought an unease upon her, the marsh still stank of rot in the heat of summer and the insects still screamed in the night. The black pines still peeked out when she looked from her window, like fangs slipping out from the lips of a dog. They grimaced at her, waiting to sink their sharp teeth into her arm. But she wouldn’t go back...

As she gazed then out of her window, she could swear she saw her brother in the tree line, his figure awash in tones of green that glowed ghostly in the darkness. His hand waving lazily at her, beckoning her yet. Would she ever go back? There would come a time where she would be too old and weary to navigate the marsh. To slide into that hole and be forgotten. Something in her soul would whisper that is where you belong, that is where you will go in the end. Into the void beneath the pines.

Was it destiny or some odd arrangement he had made with her and whatever it was that called him home? Something that made her mind crack and fray at the edges, burdened her with knowing. She knew too much to forget the things she hasn’t seen yet. Maybe it was better there, not dark and unhinging. Maybe heaven was through that opening in the earth. Or maybe it was hell, it was crushing, it was being buried alive and choking in the anaerobic soil of the marsh. No space for air inside the hole that was made for them to fill, and only them.