#and its not so warm today so i can actually kinda function i hope

[the-kipsabian]

overbooked myself with fun stuff today. ough

[yan-randomfandom]

i love your writings sm!! It's literally so good i keep coming back to see if you've updated udgshsj 😔😔 💖💖

This might be kinda a weird idea but I want to share this idea of yandere robot ford &/or stanley-

Here's a small drabble

So so reader's like a researcher/mechanic or smth similar to that, and one day they found this strange robot their backbyard and they see that the robot's conditions are not too damaged and it look like its intended to look like a human, reader became intrigued so they took it back inside and decided to repair it. They saw that the robot's label spelling out "ST4NF0R5/ST4NL33". it took days for them to try reactive the robot.. one night reader slept on their desk, and suddenly light appears on the robot's eyes and as he scanned the environment, his eyes landed on your sleeping figure.

i'd love to see your interpretation of this if it isn't too weird !!! Can be HC's or small scenario, preferably romantic but it's up to you!! 🥹🥹

Tysm for your time i hope you have a great day!! 💗

p.s can i be 🪴 anon?

Yandere!Robot!Pines x GN!Reader

a/n: thank you 🪴 anon!! i love the lil robot idea you have, very interesting 👀 I also decided to continue your drabble, which is super well-written btw 😭

Also we won't have a specific twin here, but he'll be called Stan. The first syllable Reader nicknames for. But you can imagine any Stan!

🤖 ;

You wave your hand repeatedly in front of the robot's face.

No response. How strange.

The reports indicated recent activity. His motherboard and circuits were slightly warm, which was unusual for decommissioned robots, and some motors even seemed out of place.

You were supposed to run tests today to see if the robot was still functioning, but it seems that it was ahead of itself.

It didn't make anything less confusing, though. Did it turn on while you were sleeping? Why isn't it reacting now?

With a defeated sigh, you lean back in your chair, loosely chalking the situation up to a faulty powerhouse. Guess you're just too good at fixing stuff. You'll have to observe it more later.

For now, you should really eat breakfast—you haven't eaten anything since yesterday. A bit too fixated on the robot you found.

You placed its cracked glasses back on, your eyes lingering over him.

No further signs of movement; he remained still. You're keeping an eye on this one, because right now, you're slightly paranoid he might explode on you.

Oh, well. There's plenty of time.

You headed to the kitchen and grabbed your usual jar, your fingers wrapping around the lid.

A grunt left your lips. A bit tighter than what you're used to.

You tried to open it again, this time having your hand underneath your shirt.

Dang.

Suddenly, the jar was taken from you and, with ease, got popped open by a large hand.

Your jaw dropped.

The robot you had been fixing for the last couple days stood in front of you—no support, and no external control.

Stan placed the jar on your counter, his mechanical eyes locking onto yours. His stare felt almost reserved, calculating.

You merely stood there in disbelief for the next few seconds.

📝 —

"This is amazing! I didn't think you'd be active so soon," you rambled, scrambling around the room for your notebook. "Just give me a moment. Where did I put that darn thing..."

Stan quietly watched you. His eyes tracked your every movement, never leaving you for a second.

"Found it!" you chirped, holding the notebook triumphantly in one hand. You walked over to the robot, gesturing toward the chair behind him.

"Please, take a seat! You might not be, uh, oof—"

Instead, you found yourself gently pushed down into the chair. He looked down at you, his gaze lingering, before stepping away. That was an act of service, you noted. You cleared your throat.

"...And that brings me to my first question!" You uncapped your pen, positioning the tip on your notebook.

"What is your purpose?"

Stan paused, seemingly processing your words. You'd never actually heard him speak before so you're a little on the edge of your seat.

"...As an artificial intelligence," he started. You almost clicked your tongue at his voice. It was gruff, perhaps a feature, but either way, you could tell it lacked a stable voicebox.

"I provide day-to-day assistance and companionship," he continued, blinking robotically. Stan didn't say anything more after that.

"A companion, huh," you hummed, jotting down your newfound discoveries.

You assumed that his creator must have been incredibly lonely if they had to resort to building robots. Not that you're judging them; after all, you understood the feeling of being an outcast from society. If you had to dig deeper into Stan's appearance, his design looked oddly specific. Maybe he was based on a real person—?

"You are not my creator."

Your hand stopped writing.

"...Oh, shoot," you gasped, standing from your chair. "You're right. I haven't even introduced myself!"

He stared down at you, his height suddenly feeling like it was looming over you. You swallowed the lump of your throat before continuing.

"I'm—"

"You are not my creator," he repeated. "But you fixed me. Why?"

"Well... I—"

Stan purred within his robotic body. "I suppose it doesn't matter. My creator dismantled me, and I must make sure you don't do the same."

His large hands gripped you by your sides. You panicked, your heart rate increasing. He must have noticed.

"Do not worry. I am merely fulfilling my purpose."

bonus draft:

You grinned, letting Stan take your laundry basket.

"Aw, geez, I had it," you snickered, crossing your arms. You watched him put the clothes one by one for drying.

"It is more efficient this way," he replied as he continued to his task.

this was supposed to be longer but yeeaaahh

[cinderspots]

if you're taking prompts i'd love to see something with reader or mia taking care of miranda? maybe as impossible as it seems she gets hurt protecting one of them or something and theyre really shaken by that and how much she loves them

I'm absolutely taking prompts hope you enjoy! ❤

It’d been stupid really.

Mia had wanted to go on a walk, and Miranda had been in her lab for an unhealthy amount of time, so Mia dragged Miranda along with her to breathe in the fresh air and not work herself to death.

Miranda was grumbling the whole way, but Mia noticed the puff of her wings. Happy. Mia was happy too. Mia linked arms with Miranda walking along the priestess’ well-known walking path, villagers and lycans avoided it due to her temper.

It was almost normal if Mia disregarded how Miranda’s wings shifted to shield her from the cold. They walked in relative silence, both happy with that alone. They didn’t need to talk, all they needed was each other.

But whatever I guess, lycan’s gotta be stupid at some point.

(Apparently about three minutes after they left, Alcina, Donna, and Heisenberg had called Miranda. There was an issue with a few lycans and they were now rampaging at Alcina’s castle, and clawing their way inside Donna’s. Just a disaster overall, and now they didn’t listen to orders. Heisenberg was so dead.)

Miranda snarled and vines ripped a lycan apart for even daring to touch her human (but not human). This seemingly was the end of it, and Miranda slightly relaxed. A branch snapped behind them, and Miranda turned to see what it was - on high alert.

But surprise! It was a diversion and Mia was promptly knocked the fuck down by a drooling feral lycan, ready for lunch. Mia did not scream - she was used to this kinda bullshit occurring in her life - and attempted to wrestle herself out of its hold.

The entire interaction was shockingly silent, to the point that Miranda didn’t even realize it was happening until she turned back around to find Mia ten seconds from being food.

Crows everywhere.

Like whoa, Mia didn’t even know that many could exist in one place - what the fuck? Miranda knocked the lycan away, and more fun- they were surrounded. Mia had sinking feeling in her gut because really, there was only so much Miranda could handle. Mia let out a feral growl as the lycan got up like an idiot on a mission and growled at her.

They weren’t special, Mia was infected too, but she wasn’t going around trying to chomp other people’s legs off.

(She just cut people’s hands-off, there’s a difference guys, and it was a chainsaw, not her teeth. She was composed about removing hands.)

There was a tense silence as Miranda attempted to order them back down, and when it didn’t work she seemed to come to the conclusion that her son was in need of serious punishment. But until then, they would have to deal with the rogue pack of lycans that decided today was the day they were gonna pick a fight with a goddess and a vaguely immortal mold woman.

Today.

Of course.

Mia always had a knife on her, she wasn’t about to play no games with her life. The rest is basically a blur, Mia didn’t even want to think about what she was covered in, or the fact she was slaughtering lycans.

In the corner of her eyes, she saw Miranda fending off almost twelve lycans at once, purposefully drawing them away from Mia. The two continued to fight, the lycans slowly dying off.

Until.

Until Miranda couldn’t quite push herself to that limit until Miranda was caught off guard due to just how hard she was pushing herself. Until Miranda got mauled. Miranda’s exhaustion from lack of sleep, physical exertion, and mental strain pushed her to drop like a stone.

Leaving Mia to both panic over her lover’s situation, and panic over the fact that she’s probably like five minutes from death. Except…the world twists everything is different all of the sudden and the lycans start to wail. They’re terrified, and Mia turns, because something is glowing.

Flowers.

Wait a second-

The lycans turn tail and run as fast as they can, and the world sharpens, comes back into focus, and Mia is facing Donna Beneviento.

….who’s wildly out of shape.

“How.”

“Mother can….she can do much more than she lets on.”

Donna had started speaking around Mia long ago, the two hit it off rather quickly, and Mia took to Donna like a mother to child.

Mia suspected, but ultimately it didn’t matter if Miranda could invade others’ minds, all that mattered was that Mia was alive, and needed to get Miranda home to heal. Donna seemed to understand this as well and carefully picked Miranda up, avoiding injuring her wings that were limp and incredibly invasive to the process of carrying her. The two trudged back to their home, Mia didn’t even care that Donna knew where they lived, and set Miranda down on a table.

Mia was sent away, to worry, to fear, as Donna did her best. Once she completed the main part Donna handed Mia a kit, essentially telling her good luck before dipping. Mia swallowed and quickly went to Miranda.

It was shockingly bad.

She was still passed out, and the black blood she bled (say that ten times fast) was glaringly obvious against the lab coat she’d donned to work in. Mia could tell that Donna had helped with the major issue that required actual expertise and not life skills of being kidnapped and fucked with for years.

Mia carefully worked on the smaller injuries, some of them were already patching themselves up. As the adrenaline truly faded Mia felt tears gather in her eyes, she didn’t even know Miranda could be this weak, especially in front of others. But this scared her because Miranda was completely open, weak.

Mia hated it, she was going to get onto Miranda more often for her health, she was going to keep Miranda functioning because what good what she to Eva if she was dead?

(What would Mia do without Miranda?)

Mia found herself staying by Miranda all throughout the night, she was too rattled over the incident to sleep anyways. Early rays of the sun began to warm the area when Miranda stirred.

Or well- when Miranda woke up very quickly and was immediately on high alert, causing Mia to think danger and whip out her knife.

So it’s not smooth.

Once everyone is calmed down, and ruffled feathers have been put back into place Miranda attempts to stand, which is not happening on Mia’s watch and she steps up to Miranda and forces her to lay right back down.

Miranda opens her mouth to argue, but before she can even begin to talk circles around Mia or attempt to trick Mia into something, Mia spoke.

“Don’t you even try it, do you know how hurt you were? I don’t ever want to see you like that again, and guess what? You don’t get to sit in your lab all day and be generally unhealthy about your habits. You’re going to take breaks, eat more - oh yeah I’ve noticed that - and sleep! That’s that, now lay back down and rest.”

Miranda’s wings had fluffed out from partial surprise as well as natural fear. Mia gave Miranda a stern look and Miranda almost in a scolded manner laid back down. Mia moves towards the edge of where Miranda was laying, quiet.

“I was worried.” it’s whispered between Mia’s fingers where she’s letting her headrest. Miranda turns to look at Mia, almost surprised before awkwardly pulling her hand away from her face to hold it.

“I’m alright.”

It’s such a tender moment Mia can hardly believe Miranda is the one she’s speaking to. But Mia looks up at Miranda, who looks concerned over Mia and can’t help but smile.

“You’re alright.”

[dearest-kibble]

yan kenma who has you locked up in his apartment- it’s been some time and you’ve given up escaping but you know he live-streams so you kind of start living small clues that you’re there in hope someone will figure it out? but instead of a viewer kenma finds out; and instead of stopping you he just decides to taunt you and play along to the point his viewers make it an inside joke- the emotional rollercoaster that would be? he wouldn’t have to punish you- the crushing despair is enough alone

This is so deliciously fucked up I love it,,, thank you anon, Kenma hits so different. I love him thank you so so so much. i am working on so much,,, thank you for being patient with all my uhhh lateness? this kinda became something a little different than the prompt but hopefully thats good?

Kenma Kozume x Fem reader

tw: Typical yandere-ness, humiliation? Sexism? Mentioned stalking, (If im missing anything please let me know my brain isn’t functioning rn)

You’re sitting on his lap, camera angled so that no one’s view is obstructed by your body, but so that all his views can clearly see you. You’ve been here so long, any hope of leaving, ironically, has left you. But, the thought crept slowly, surely, deeply into your brain and hasn’t left. You turn around on Kenma’s lap, straddling him and you’re sure the live chat is going a little crazy at the thought of Kodzuken having someone in his lap while he streams and he’s probably going to tell you to get off soon, but you’ve got the chat’s attention, and you are going to work with it. You tap Kenma’s cheeks, slight squish on them and you know he hates that it’s on camera all the same, you drum three fingers on his cheek, smiling at him for the camera as your fingertips meet his clammy skin. He doesn’t tell you to stop so across his cheek you swipe your thumb three times as tenderly as possible. As you stand from his lap, you pat his cheeks, three times delicately. You look into his eyes, still as calculating as when you met him, a deceptively warm amber with the tiniest hint of frustration (and somewhere inside, you know it’s probably with you but you can’t care.)

“I’m gonna sit on the couch, ‘kay?” You call softly, hoping you were subtle enough with your plea.

“Oh, okay,” And you think you’re free before he calls a “Wait! Come back for a little.” You’re even halfway to the couch before the words rope you back in. He beckons you to lean down, and whispers into your ear. “I noticed you trying to sign to get out. Morse code isn’t as subtle as you think, you might as well just ask them to get you out,” You chance a quick look towards chat.

“Was that morse code?”

“Holy shit! Yeah, I think that was SOS.”

“You think they actually need to get out or it’s one of those ‘my bfs terrible’ jokes?”

“You see the way they were straddling? Def not a hate my bf sorta thing.”

“See?” He’s still whispering into your ear, game forgotten in lieu of what might be called humiliation.  “They won’t believe you because you want to be here. Regardless of what you say, you would’ve left already if you didn’t.” He smiles at you and affectionately pats your head. Like he’d pet a cat. The idea is still in your mind, though perhaps a little shallower. You glance at the chat once more, someone is still talking about it, but Kenma pushes you away with a “I’ll get you when I’m done, okay?” You end your night on the couch with Kenma. He smiles at you and puts your legs on his lap.

The next livestream is two days after the last one. You have something planned once more, hopefully more effective.

“I’m playing minecraft today, I could set up your computer, and we could play together?” His small smile is back. And though a kind gesture, all you can think about is how easily you could make a point.

“Okay!” The earlier plan is immediately forgotten, and thoughts of what you could do in a game, fills your mind. “Will I have a mic?”

“No, I can’t have you telling them can I?” And it clicks, because of course he’d taunt you. But it’s like your brain grew claws that cannot lose their hold.

“Will I have a camera?” And you know the answer, but Kenma might still surprise you. You’ve already had one shock tonight, maybe you’ll get another.

“No. Sorry. You have chat though.” He pats your head again, ruffling your hair. “I’ve already got you set up, c’mon.” He tugs at your hand, pulling gently.

“Thanks Kenma.” He’s put another computer across from his desk on a much smaller table made for playing cards.

“You’re all set up.”

“Yeah.” He clicks the mouse a few times, waves at the camera to his right. “Can everybody hear me?” He waits a few seconds for chat’s response. “Chat is saying yes, so let’s get right in?” He smiles sheepishly to his camera.

“Hi everyone, I’ m Kodzuken and today we are,” He pauses to look at you with honeyed amber eyes. “Playing Minecraft with my partner.” He nods in your direction. You just open the minecraft tab, the only shortcut that seems to be on the computer.

“It’s a LAN server, click that, okay?” So you click it and say nothing. You start to go through the motions of chopping a tree, making sticks, making a crafting table. Kennma is narrating what he does, and you’re not even sure where he is in game until you're knocked back and turn your mouse to look at him.

“Yeah, I know - she should be relying on me.” He’s responding to something in chat, he’s gotta be. You type a quick,

“What’re they saying?”

“Oh, that my girlfriend shouldn’t be so independent, you rely on me - I'm your boyfriend.” Kenma says it so casually, so acerbically that you immediately take off sprinting from the forest in game.  

“She has these bouts - you saw them last stream - where she likes to try and ‘get away’.” Kenma laughs softly; little glockenspiel notes falling from his mouth. “It’s a really cute joke honestly! Anyway, I’ll put my minecraft bed next to hers later, right now...” You stop paying attention and start planning how you’d try to get your point across more clearly. You could make signs, say “Get me out!” Like Kenma suggested.

“Hey! He looks over the screen at you, piercing eyes staring right through you. “Don’t go off on your own, we’re staying together alright?”

“No.” He’ll have to deal with chatting, possibly hearing you by himself. And you continue through the coded forest. It goes pretty smoothly, though you’re sure Kenma is trying to find you, you’ve already created a mine for yourself, and made a little sign with instructions that reads: “Get me out!”

“Her voice is quite cute, isn’t it? I’ll get to hear it for the rest of my life.” He continues humming out yes’s and no’s to his audience that sit captivated in a land of blocks and pixels.

“Hey, I’m going to use the restroom, is it alright if my girlfriend takes over for me?” He stands, and waves you over into his chair that’s been made for gaming and padded with red accents. He watches you with his cat-like eyes as you sit down and pats your head. “I’ll be right back Kitty, behave.” And you hear his soft footsteps get farther away and the creak of the door twice before you finally look at chat.

Woa, Kudzu got lucky huh?

“Please,” You don’t sound nearly as someone might think you would. You’ve been here too long. “Get me out of here?”

Sure sweetheart, just come over to my place first.

“Just - get me away from him please!”

Girls are so whiny huh?

Hey man, its funny at least amiright?

“It’s not a joke -”

She’s really committed to this bit huh

Damn iim staartin to feel bad for ken

Me to :(

“I’ve been here for year and I don’t want to-”

Wow. what an ungrateful bitch.

Ikr? She’s got a bf and everything and she wants to get out?

“No- it’s not like that - he stalked me for months I-” And the familiar desperation you thought hoped beyond all hope that you had lost bleeds back into your voice all repression surfaces like the tide in your eyes.

Oh fuxxx we made her cry.

relax bet she’s just on her period or smth

“I am not!” A bubble of snot pops from your nose and mucus drips uncomfortably to your lips. “I just-”

What could you want that you don’t have.

“My house! My job! My friends!” And your voice breaks

She wants to go back to a job?

Crazy lady huh.

She wants friends when all she really needs is a man? smh.

“Kitten, what-”

“Leave me the fuck alone!” It’s an outburst that you’ll regret later, for one reason or another. But for now it’s a small comfort to speak your mind. With your voice wavering and congested, you choke out a “Let me go home.” Kenma’s eyebrows furrow but his eyes are still the calculating, cold amber they always are.

“Shh shh, it’s okay.” Instead of the quick pats he’s so fond of, he strokes your hair and massages the nape of your neck like he’s picking up a kitten who's gotten into a fight. “I’m going to cut the stream, okay?”

Who’d want to leave Ken, he’s cutting the stream short to help his gf.

…….yeah

I feel bad.

“You should. Please don’t make her cry.” A few clicks later and the stream cuts. “Do you want me to upload that one?” To get your message out? You’d do anything.

“Yes please…” Someone will have to see it. How miserable you are.

“Then it’ll go up, okay?” He pats your back twice, and he stands again to sit at the computer. Out of the blue he speaks again. “They’re right.” No no no no no. “I’m lucky, i’m so glad you're here with me and that you won’t leave.”

“I will get out!” The proof of your white hot anger is breaking the dam built in your throat.

“Where will you go? Your friends don’t know where you’ve gone, they won’t be happy with you coming back unannounced.”

“My parents-”

“You can rely on me, you don’t need anyone else.”

“But I-”

“Shhh kitty, you’re overreacting let’s get you to bed, you’ve had a stressful day.” And so he walks you back to the room you share that's covered in pictures, and he tucks you under the covers and dries your tears with a blanket. He whispers words to you, faint little nothings about games he’s going to play that you’ll enjoy watching and little bits of trivia about what “Kuroo” is up to. Eventually you fall asleep, with his hand in your hair and a chair pulled up close so he can stare. You both know it but no one will admit, some part of him will always enjoy how you lose hope so quickly.

--

once again! This should not’ve taken so long,,,, and it kinda deviates from request but! there we are! also,,,, you can’t tell me that like,,,,,,, kenma hasn’t been at least exposed to incels and or like,,,, really sexist guys he streams on twitch or youtube or something so- also thank you anon,,, i really like this one

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 05

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A sprinkle of grumpy jealous werewolf!Jaebeom who gets a wee bit violent, tooth-rotting domestic fluff, werewolf courting, sexual tension, werewolf!Jaebeom acting like a pup, and poor yet adorable attempts at coming across as human.

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV. Bam and Jinyoung make a cameo.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

Wonderful as a trip abroad might be, there’s nothing that can compare to the secret feeling of relief when returning home. No longer there is luggage to drag along, languages to swap between, or cultures to assimilate to. While it is in good fun, it’s also physically and mentally exhausting. Henceforth, coming home is like a cozy blanket to wrap around your shoulders by the fire on a cold November day. And once you’re bundled up, it is time to breathe easy and rest.

Although, home is not necessarily a place. In fact, mine has made good on his promise and puppy dreams, standing in the crowd to pick me up.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice calls out as we enter the hall of arrivals, “over here!”

Manes tucked away under a dark red beanie and wearing a simple black jacket over an oversized black shirt, Jaebeom waves to pull attention to himself.

“Who’s that?” Bam follows my gaze to the adorable tall man as we make our way through the crowd of trolleys, suitcases, hellos and goodbyes. “Is that the dude you’ve been texting and calling?”

“He is,” I whisper in reply as we approach him. With every step, the storm of butterflies in my stomach worsens although I feel light as air at the same time. Happiness in Love is a strange thing. 

“So that’s your boyfriend,” my colleague purrs. He sounds pleased in the way I imagine he’d sound if he was my older brother.

I whip my head around, tongue-tied but not enough to protest the assumption. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Bam merely chuckles to himself, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as he continues. “Sure he isn’t, Y/N. After all, you’ve not been touching your lips and turning into a blushy mess afterwards. Or keeping those books you have with you close at all times, looking at them fondly.”

“Of course I am.” Jaebeom jumps into the conversation when we’ve reached him, acting as if he’s heard our conversation perfectly through the ruckus of the crowd. The sparkle in his eyes dims and turns into a poisonous glare when he notices the guy besides me. “Who are you?”

“JB, this is Kunpimook.’’ I gesture from one to the other, jaw clenched in the hope the wolf man won’t actively show the hostility harboured in his gaze. ‘’The colleague I told you about.”

“Just call me Bam.” Politely, he holds out his hand.

“Im Jaebeom,” the other man introduces himself, fortunately accepting the gesture howbeit with a strained expression. “Her boyfriend.”

“Hey, you must be Y/N.” Holding a tray with three coffee cups in it, a young man joins our company. 

Like Jaebeom, who has proudly proclaimed himself my boyfriend, he is tall, slender yet muscular in build and has black hair. Nevertheless, whereas Jaebeom has a flair of being unapproachable, the stranger has a boyish air around him that’s open for contact.

He moves the carrier from his right hand to his left for a handshake. “I’m Jinyoung.”

Immediately, bells start ringing at the mention of his name. After all, there hasn’t been a single call the past week wherein he wasn’t mentioned. “Jaebeom’s told me about you. You’re a professor at the university here, right?”

“I am,” he beams, his proud tone indicating how much he likes his job. “I teach Mythology. It’s a course that encompasses folklore around the world, so it’s fairly broad.”

“You teach only one course?”

“I do, but I’m also a doctor. Well, still studying to be one officially, but I’m allowed to work at the university’s clinic already.”

 “Wow.’’ A professor and a doctor. There’s little else I can say as a mere travel journalist, so I just try to remain casual despite being utterly gobsmacked. 

“I know, it’s a lot. Nevertheless, somehow I manage to do it and occasionally write an article.”

How does he do it? He’s likely not that much older than I, but he’s evidently busier than I am.

“Show-off.” The grumbled insult interferes with the friendly conversation. The focus of Jaebeom’s glare has changed targets from Bam to the professor. However, the latter doesn’t seem to notice his friend’s chagrin.

“I’m simply introducing myself, Jay. Here,” Jinyoung hands him one of the paper cups from the carrier, “your apple and cinnamon tea.”

“You drink tea now?” I raise an eyebrow, surprised. It sounds like a strange concept because I’ve never seen him drink anything but black coffee.

“Doctor’s orders,” JB murmurs in response, discontent and keeping a close eye on Bam as he nips the warm beverage.

“I’ve put him on tea, preferably green, to lower the caffeine levels in his blood. Otherwise, he’ll be staying up all night reading and trying to cook. Oh,” he reaches for something in his pocket, pulling out a small bottle like the one JB showed me in the park and handing it to his friend, “you forgot your meds.”

“You’re on medication?” Bam asks without any implications or judgment. The funny thing is, despite being extroverted and extravagant - extra, in general - he actually studied psychology and thought about becoming a psychiatrist for a while. Therefore, he has a general interest in medicine and its function of helping the human psyche.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Jaebeom sneers sarcastically, his voice closer to a growl than human speech. Then, he turns his attention to Jinyoung, who continues to hold his calm. “Why are you giving this to me now? Couldn’t you wait until we’re back? I’m not gonna take them in front of some stranger, especially not someone close to her. Besides, what does skipping one time or by a few hours matter?”

“Jay, don’t be like this,’’ the young professor sighs. ‘’You know how important timing is, especially with this new treatment.”

“You’re embarrassing me.”

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

A nudge against my shoulder distracts me from the fierce bickering, Bam lowly whispering he’s leaving for home as well as an apology for what he has unleashed. I answer in a similar fashion when promising to call him later and apologizing for putting him into this situation. He merely waves dismissively, unbothered, and disappears in the crowd of trolleys and journeying strangers.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough,” I intervene lest the situation gets out of hand. A hand on his chest, I try to distract Jaebeom by shifting his focus to me. “Let’s go search for somewhere quiet around here where it’s just us. It’s important to me too you take your meds.”

“Let’s just go home.” His features soften, compromising like I did that day in the bookshop and didn’t want to eat. “I’ll take them in the car, alright?”

“Why do you have to be cross with me about it when you readily accept to take them when Y/N tells you to?” Jinyoung crosses his arms in defiance, lips pulled into a displeased pout.

 “Because she’s my mate,” Jaebeom argues, sure to show his teeth. Withal, he turns into a gentle giant again once he wraps an arm around my waist and looks down at me with so much adoration I feel my cheeks burning up. “Girlfriend, I mean. We’re dating, so she’s my girlfriend.”

“We’ve only been out together once,” I sputter. It’s wonderful to hear the affirmation we’re an item, although I still think it’s a bit too early to claim we are.

“Twice after today. And we’ve kissed,” he corrects me, tone indicating there is no use in protesting. Nevertheless, the sternness wavers as it warms into merriment. “I got you something. I’ll give it to you once we’re home.”

Jinyoung leans in as we head to the exit, whispering. “He went kinda overboard.”

“I didn’t,” Jaebeom growls. “Stop embarrassing me. Know your fucking place.”

“Boys,” I sigh in warning.

Both lower their head and let out a whimper in apology. “Sorry.”

“This is where you live?” Jinyoung parks the car in front of the tall white brick building overlooking the quay at the edge of town.

“Wow...” Jaebeom murmurs in the passenger seat, awed by the fact I live on the east side of town. It’s a recently redeveloped area, the warehouses refurbished into apartment complexes to help combat the growing housing issue.

“I do. Not for much longer, though.”

Both men turn in their seats, looking at me as if I’m insane.

 “You’re moving out?” The professor asks, although it’s more of an exclamation than a question. “Why would you leave this place? It’s one of the most desired places to live within the city.”

However, JB doesn’t care about the reason which makes me want to leave the neighbourhood behind. Instead, he’s anxious to know where to find me. “Where will you go?”

“Do you know those orchards on the outskirts of town? With the old cottages?” Both nod as confirmation. “Well, that’s where I’ll be moving to. I’ve been meaning to get out of the city for a while. Granted, the harbour district isn’t as busy as the city centre. But, despite being only twenty-two, I crave the silence of the countryside. Or, rather, its tranquility which I can also find in the suburbs.”

“You’re twenty-two?” Jaebeom asks, head tilted to the side.

 “I am,’’ I admit as I pull my knees up to make myself as small as possible. ‘’I never mentioned it because I didn’t think it’d matter. Does it, though?”

My voice is hardly audible, a frog stuck in my throat. Why did I have to be the one to bring this up?

“No, not at all! I still like you. A lot. A lot, a lot. But, I’m older than you. Quite a bit, I think.”

“How old?” The question barely rolls off the tongue, pale with dread.

Please, don’t let there be too big of an age gap.

“I’m twenty...” He looks at Jinyoung, brow furrowed.

“Twenty-eight,” the good doctor whispers, unconscious of the fact that the well-meant reminder is loud enough for me to hear.

“Twenty-eight,” Jaebeom confirms, staring back at me in anticipation. “Six years difference. Does it matter? To you, I mean. In how you see me?”

“It doesn’t. Do you see me differently?”

“I never did.”

“Age is only a number, after all,” the professor pitches in to cheer us up further. “Anyway, I’m dropping you off here.”

“Can’t you stay?” Surely I can’t let him leave without at least thanking him with a cup of coffee or tea.

“I’d love to, but- Don’t you snarl at me.” He points an accusing finger at JB, who’s showing his teeth and lowly growling like he did at the airport.

Caught red-handed, the wolfish man feigns ignorance and stares out the window. However, his sulky expression and scoff betray his true feelings.

“As I was saying,” Jinyoung continues after an exasperated sigh, “I’d love to, but I get to attend an interesting transplant operation today and have a bit of research to do for a new article.”

“That’s a shame. I owe you a cup of coffee, then. That’s the least I can do to repay you for driving me home.”

“I’ll make good on that promise soon. But for now, go on, you two.” He motions for us to get out of the car. “Don’t make it awkward by making me the third wheel.”

“Jinyoung.” Hesitantly, the big wolf man holds up his fist.

“No hard feelings.” He bumps his fist against JB’s.

“Good.” The seat belt comes undone, but Jaebeom doesn’t move to step outside yet. Instead, he leans in towards Jinyoung and takes a whiff, squinting as invisible question marks float in the air. “You smell weird, though.”

“Really?” The other man sniffs the collar of his jacket, shrugging casually in jest. “It’s not that bad.”

“Jinyoung.” Despite still looking a bit pale with remorse, the wolf man says the professor’s name harshly, his voice deep as he chastises the turn to humour. He grows still, gaze focused on his friend as he tries to look for what’s unspoken in the other’s body language.

However, there is nothing to see. Although, if there actually is something off, the professor hides it well. But Jaebeom doesn’t get the chance to scrutinize him long enough to see for himself because Jinyoung turns back to the wheel and waves dismissively. “I’m alright, Jae. Go. Have fun with your girlfriend.”

His friend nods, a strained look on his face, and opens the door. I follow behind, having silently observed the conversation from the backseat.

What’re you worried about? Jinyoung looks fine. Nothing wrong with him whatsoever.

Nevertheless, barely have we opened the trunk when the doctor hangs out the window. “And don’t forget your present!”

“Got it right here.” In confirmation, Jaebeom holds up a neat-looking paper bag, chique enough to originally have been used in a boutique.

“That’s my boy,” he chuckles before he resumes his seat.

With a dull thud, Jaebeom closes the trunk again. 

The engine roars to life and the car pulls out of the parking lot, Jinyoung honking a few times as we see him off.

I look from Jaebeom to the bag, leaning in to try and sneak a peek of its contents. “What did you get me?”

You promised me a shirt, but do you really need this big of a bag for one?

“I’m not telling you,” he muses.

I straighten my posture, a smile building as a golden opportunity presents itself. “Aw, what’s in the box?”

“Box? Y/N, it’s a bag.”

“I know, but- Never mind.” I wave the apparently obscure allusion with a dismissive gesture, disappointed he doesn’t get the reference. “Let’s go inside.”

“Are you upset?” he asks as we walk to the entrance of the building.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Another reassuring question burns on his tongue, but before he can ask it I stand on the tips of my toes to peck him on the lips and nose. “I’m not going to get upset simply because you didn’t understand me. Besides, it’s just a trivial matter. Come on, let’s go. I’m hungry.” 

Though I failed the first time, I again try to get a better look at the mysterious bag. As before, the attempt is in vain. “And curious.”

“I think you’ll like it. In fact,” his lips pull into a smug smirk, “I’m fairly sure you’ll look pretty in it. More pretty than you do now.”

It’s prettier.

I let the mistake slide.

To let him have his little moment of triumph.

There is no place like home. Truly, not a single hotel room or bed and breakfast in the world can substitute the small studio with its minimalistic interior in shades of white and grey.

I breathe in deeply, glad to stand in the familiar narrow hallway leading to the kitchen and space beyond. A faint musty smell cuts through the fragrance of the Nordic leather diffuser sticks I bought before going to Belgium.

Guess I’ll be cleaning tomorrow.

Luckily, it’s been only a few days so the level of dust isn’t too bad. Notwithstanding, the place could do with a little clean-up.

“Well, this is me.”

“I know,” Jaebeom replies sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his eyes on me.

“No, I mean, this,” I gesture around as I walk into the apartment, “is my place. My house.”

He murmurs something under his breath, seemingly contrasting two words as he tries to understand them or, rather, the difference between them.

“It’s nice,” he remarks when he has figured out his train of thought, looking around appreciatively.

“The cottage will be nicer, I think. I can’t wait to decorate it, make it cozier than this place. Maybe get some plants, hang up a few photos-’’

“A few of us together, maybe?” He proposes as he, too, takes his shoes off and follows me into the living room.

“For example.” I nod at the bag when we settle down on the couch next to the window overlooking the quay. “Can I open my present now?”

“Say ‘please’.” Arms crossed, he leans in so our faces are mere inches away from each other. His breath ghosts warmly over my lips when he continues in a tender yet playful babying tone. “Life is short, but there is always time for courtesy. Manners, young lady.”

“Can I open my present, please?” Regardless of the chance to finally satisfy my curiosity, I don’t dive into the gift directly. Instead, I stay my hand, bothered by a nagging feeling his words are familiar to me. “What you just said, isn’t that a quote?”

“It is, but,’’ Jaebeom bites his lip, eyes averted to the ground, ‘’to be honest, I can’t remember who said it.”

Funny, how you can remember quotes. Maybe that’s how we can communicate in the future if your condition gets worse. Although, let’s hope that’s not the case for a long time.

“Ralph…’’ I start, trying to recall who originally said it. ‘’Ralph Waldo? No, that’s not right. He went by his middle name. Wait, his middle name was Ralph so it was him.”

“Have you read his work?”

“Honestly speaking, I haven’t. However, I have a friend who studies American literature and poetry and she sends poems, quotes and the occasional snippet. I think I’ve seen him in passing. Anyways,’’ I pull the bag onto my lap, giddy as a child in a candy shop, ‘’let’s see what’s inside.”

The present catches me off-guard because the bundles of clothing are both what I expected and yet not. “You...” I trail off, checking and double checking the amount of shirts. “Seven?”

“One for every day of the week,” he beams, proudly barking his reasoning.

These will last me two weeks if not longer. Minimalism isn’t his thing, is it?

I pull out a big grey hoodie and hold it up to my nose to sniff it. A wild forest of which the air is faintly scented by a cologne with fruity undertones and the musty smell of books. I hum contently, enraptured by the scent. By him. 

From the corner of my eye, I see Jaebeom grinning in unadulterated amusement. Albeit not without effort, I lower the article of clothing. “I know this is likely stupid to ask, but eventually they’ll have to be washed so what if your scent fades?”

“I’ll just scent them again.’’ He shrugs casually before he points inside the bag. ‘’Also, what’s in the little box on the bottom might help with that too.”

In my astonishment, I missed the cardboard square at the bottom which turns out to be the packaging for a bottle of cologne. “You can spray it on. Sure, it’s not really purely my scent but hopefully it’s still rem- remi- a reminder of me.”

You meant reminiscent, didn’t you?

“Or I can go to you and have you scent them,” I joke, only half-serious.

“If that means more time together,” his mismatched eyes sparkling with gleeful stars, “sure, why not? I’d be glad to help.”

“Thank you.’’ Absentmindedly, I fidget with the folds of the hoodie. ‘’I really like it.”

Jaebeom ruffles my hair, letting out a chuff. “You’re welcome. Now, why don’t you just sit tight and I’ll make us something to eat?”

“Don’t set my kitchen aflame, though,” I warn him as the wolf man gets up from the couch.

“I won’t,” he answers smugly before leaning in to steal a kiss. “I promise.”

With a spring in his step, JB sets off for the kitchen with the bag of groceries he pulled from Jinyoung’s trunk. The two must have dropped by the supermarket before coming to pick me up.

A pillow propped up against the armrest and the blanket formerly draped over the couch now covering my shoulders, I lie down for a nap.

As consciousness fades, a warm affectionate wolfish smile pierces through the growing haze. Jaebeom murmurs something unintelligible and turns his gaze back to the chopping board.

I am home.

Dreaming of two little pups running around an orchard.

“Dinner’s ready!” The loud remark barely filters in until it’s repeated up close, the merry bark lowered in volume. A hand shakes my shoulder, but what does the trick in waking me up is the warm wetness nibbling away at my ear. However, it doesn’t stay there, but travels down the side of my neck and ends its journey at the hem of my shirt, giving it a gentle yet fierce tug.

“Y/N, come on. Get up,” JB whines, the words distorted thanks to keeping the fabric firmly between his teeth. He tugs at it again.

What on earth?

I turn onto my other side, causing the big wolf man to let go. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to get you to eat.” He makes himself smaller, gaze briefly averted to the side before looking at me again, continuing in the same tender yet stern tone he uses whenever food is involved. “With me. This is my first time cooking for you and I practiced really hard while you were away. So, please, eat with me. I want to know whether I did a good job.”

“Do you have to drag me by the collar for that?” I reach out to scratch him behind his ear, tracing his jaw as my fingers work upwards.

Jaebeom’s eyes mist over, his expression turning dreamy as he leans into the touch. “Want- Don’t know… know how to- Come to… kitchen. Although, maybe, just...”

“Feels good?”

A hasty sheepish smile flashes on his lips as he nods in agreement, eyes closed and speechless.

You really are a wolf. Weirdo. My weirdo.

A whine slips out when I stop. JB slowly opens his eyes again, blinks a few times before he clears his throat. “Can we do that again? After dinner, maybe?”

 “If I liked what you made, sure. However,” I kiss his forehead, “since you asked so nicely, we can do this again after we’ve eaten. So, will you eat with me?”

Will you stay with me?

“What’s wrong?” Picking up on the worrying thought, he tilts his head to the side and scrutinizes my face as he did Jinyoung’s earlier today.

“Nothing.” I shake my head, dismissing the thought since we’ve already said everything there is to say about it. “Just a silly thought.”

His expression falters. “I’m being over- overbear- too much.”

“No, not at all! Don’t say that, silly.”

Jaebeom nudges my nose with his, his tone sweet in an attempt to make me confess what’s bothering me. “Then what is it?”

“I’ve never done this before,” I admit at last. “No one’s ever cooked for me aside from my mom and grandmother or had a guy proudly proclaim himself as my boyfriend. This is simply new to me so it makes me feel, well, a bit awkward. It’s unreal, like a dream that might go up in smoke any second. That’s maybe a better way to put it.”

“I’m really here. Also, remember what you promised me? You’d stay by my side until you can’t anymore and I promised you the same. I’m a wolf, after all. Loyal to my pack or, rather, my- uh- my bi- no, that’s wrong. My lady,” he grabs my hand and lifts the fingers to his lips for a chaste kiss, “I am your gentleman and I won’t go anywhere without telling you first. And, if possible, I’ll take you with me because I refuse to leave you behind. But for now, let’s go eat. Together. I’ll try not to make a mess.”

Don’t cry, Y/N. Don’t you tear up right in front of him.

I take in a shivering breath, swallow hard, and try to regain composure.

We’re here together and wherever it is we’re going next, we’ll be there as we are now.

Side by side.

Even though I’m hungry and the table is literally three steps away, I groan as I get up from the couch. Travelling takes its toll, no matter how short the distance might be. All the same, I shuffle towards the chair facing the kitchen and plop down on it, watching JB plate up. “What are we having?”

“Steak with blanched vegetables and sweet potato mash,” he proudly announces while serving the food.

“Uhm, that’s very nice. However- it’s alright if you don’t remember, but I’m vegetarian.”

“I remembered.” A bright smile forms on his lips, eyes alight with triumph and joy. “That’s why your steak is soy-based. I found it while doing groceries or, rather, Jinyoung pointed it out. He’s been teaching me how to cook and bake. Well, we’re still working on the latter, but I did bring homemade cheesecake for dessert. I still wonder why they call it cheesecake when what’s going in it isn’t really cheese.”

“Beats me too.”

“You got slapped by cream cheese?” Visibly gobsmacked, he leans in with an expression that holds the middle between curiosity and utter confusion. “How did that happen and was it painful?”

“I mean I don’t understand either,” I reply, shaking my head with a low chuckle, and cut into the steak. As the knife sinks into it, a rosy fluid oozes out of it as if it’s been cooked medium-raw which is exactly how I liked it back in my non-vegetarian days. “But baking hasn’t been a success?”

Jaebeom sits back, shoulders hunched as he pokes the carrot on his plate with his fork. “I burned a cake, pulled it from the oven as black as charcoal. Then there’s the case of the exploded soufflés and marble cake that turned out to have no marbling at all. Not to speak of the melted... what’re they called again? There’s also a song that’s got to do with them. Jinyoung sings it a lot. Rocky road! Melted rocky roads and millionaire’s breads.”

“Maybe stick to cooking instead of baking. Not everyone has a knack for both.”

He sighs in defeat. “Maybe I should, but I’ll still try to make you something every once in a while that’s actually good.”

“As long as you don’t blow up one of our kitchens.” I include my kitchen as well because the mere thought of baking together spreads a rosy flush throughout my body that leaves me warm with affection. Besides, it’s another excuse to see him wear an apron, maybe pull some shenanigans myself and have something to eat with a cup of tea or coffee and a good book.

That would make for a nice date. We should do that soon.

“I’ll try.” He holds out his pinky. “Promise.”

The adorable genuineness of the determined gesture is what drives me to seal the promise by wrapping my pinky around his. “I’ll hold you to it.”

While eating the simple yet well-made dinner, the conversation is about novels, the shop, Jinyoung’s cooking lessons and the weary stories of how Kunpimook and I crossed Bruges in search of the best chocolate. Jaebeom hasn’t done much in the time I was away it seems. The bookshop’s been quiet, so he’s had plenty of time to read and work on his cooking. Nevertheless, his expression turns dreamy when I show him the pictures from the trip, but right beneath the surface of it floats a form of sad longing which is too unclear to be certain of or to be properly described.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m glad you got to see this,” he murmurs as he takes my phone from my hand to leave through the collection again. “I’m kinda jealous, though. It’s been so long since I went somewhere other than here. I’m not sure if I’ve ever been somewhere else.”

Brows furrowed, he tries to remember the last time he travelled. Withal, he comes up short, the melancholy of missing memories staining his voice. “I’ve been nowhere except here. Chained.”

“This place clearly is your home, that’s why it’s keeping you here. It knows you belong here and I’m glad you’ve remained.”

He lets out a breathless laugh which oddly holds the middle between a growl and a giggle. “I’m happy you showed up at my doorstep, then. But, the cottage you’ll be moving to... it’d- it’d be nice if I could make that my home too.’’ His cheeks grow pink like rose petals. ‘’Well, maybe not literally, but it would be nice if it would become our little somewhere.”

“Our little somewhere,” I repeat, charmed by the sound of it.

“Our home. Well, concretely speaking. Abstractly, and most importantly, you are my home.’’ He gets up to move to my side, where he crouches at my feet. Foreheads rested against each other, he easily nips at my nose and nuzzles it affectionately with his. ‘’You are what breaks the silence, makes me able to hope for better days.”

“The same goes for you because even though you sometimes still intimidate and freak me out a little bit, you make my days more interesting than they have been in years. So, thank you. For being here, spending your time in my company.”

“Thank you for the same reasons. Now,” JB leans away to get up and starts to clear the dishes, “how about dessert?”

Before either of us is aware of it, the clock on the wall notes it’s already ten past eight when we finish off the homemade cheesecake. Naturally, partially to also do my fair share, I stand up from my chair before the big wolf man does in an attempt to clear the table and do the dishes. However, when I’m about to walk to the kitchen with them, Jaebeom unapologetically takes them from my hands.

“What’re-? JB, you don’t have to do everything! Let me at least do the dishes.” Flattered yet a tad annoyed by the kindness, and poorly conveying my appreciation, I protest in a harsher tone than I intended to use.

Fortunately, though also a bit comically, he remains unperturbed. Notwithstanding, an unyielding sternness underlines his voice when he responds. “You’ve had a long journey, so sit down and relax. I’ll be right with you after cleaning up.”

Henceforth, unable to protest and rendered comatose by the delicious food, I plop down on the couch. Nestled into the corner, I have a proper view of the man who’s claimed my kitchen for himself.

Although it’s an intrusion to a certain degree, it’s quite soothing to watch Jaebeom defy classic gender roles. Contently humming a song and barely shy of skipping, he cleans up the mess with a tea towel tucked into the side of his pants. 

When he’s done, he hangs the tea towel over the stove’s handle, washes his hands, and settles down next to me. On a whim, though it’s maybe because of instinct, I get up from my little corner and nestle against him. He wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer as I drape my leg over his thigh to get into a more comfortable position.

Situated snugly in his safe presence, I close my eyes and sigh in pure content. “Can you stay here tonight?”

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to be alone and rest?” he murmurs into my hair.

“I can recharge with you. Besides, you’re nice and warm.” I snuggle up to him more, basking in the mixture of wild wood and cologne. “A perfect pillow.”

He pulls me on his lap, wraps his arms around my body and pulls me flush against his chest, which feels sculpted but not hard with muscle. Abs are nice and all, but I prefer the softness of a defined though not hardened chest. 

“If it brings you rest,” he curls his finger under my chin and lifts it, compelling me to look at him, “I’ll stay.”

I run my fingers along his jaw and up to his ear, immediately reducing him to the puppy-like state he tends to get into apparently when being touched like this. “Thank you.”

“My pl- pleasure.” What would have been a normal response is lost in a growl when I accidentally brush against his crotch as I shift my weight and sit up a little.

His eyes snap open, the hazelnut brown and ocean blue irises darkened, devoid of any sense of their former satisfied tenderness. With his thumb he traces the outline of my lips, lowly purring. “Pretty.”

“Jaebeom,” I place my hands on his shoulders, maintaining a bit of distance between us. We shouldn’t rush this, but the sensation of his growing bulge against my thigh, throbbing against the inside of it, convolutes every thought. Somehow, his scent seems to have gotten stronger too, overwhelming me with the same clear message the firm grip on my hips has. 

I don’t push him back as he leans in, bridging the emptiness I initiated. Foreheads rested against each other and his calloused hands on my cheeks, he guesses what’s essentially withholding me. “Scared?”

“A bit,” I whimper against his palm, the words muffled by the rough warm skin.

“It’s me, Y/N. I won’t hurt you.” Feverish yet sweetly with persuasive conviction, he kisses me. “I’m your gentleman, your boyfriend.”

“I’m afraid it’ll hurt. That we’re going too fast.”

“We’re not. I want this. I want more of you. With you. But,’’ lips pulled into a straight line, he clears his throat while looking as if he is restraining a wild beast that can easily get the better of him if he lets go, ‘’I’ll leave it up to you.”

So, what you’re asking is… 

Jaebeom takes a deep breath to regain his composure, though it has little effect. His breathing remains heavy, close to panting. Nevertheless, the gentle stars return to his eyes as the strained expression softens. “Will you have me?”

[yolkyeomie]

Ice Fairies | Hwang Hyunjin

summary — figure skaters are like ice fairies to you, and hyunjin is the prettiest fairy you’ve ever seen

word count — 2.7k words

pairing — hyunjin x gender neutral!reader

genre — figure skater!hyunjin, fluff, mc kinda pines after hyunjin but doesn’t rlly realize it

disclaimer — I actually know nothing about ice skating and ive been writing this since the moment I woke up so if it’s bad + inaccurate I’m so sorry

You had always enjoyed watching figure skaters be in their natural element, it was something about the way they skid across the ice that made you think that there was just something a little… inhuman about them.

If you were to describe what you believe they were, you say they were like fairies. The way figure skaters glittered in the reflection of the ice and the way they glided as if they had wings sprouting it from their back to fly was enough for you to think they were. But that was only from what you had seen on television. You had never seen a figure skater in person because it was wildly out of your own element to do so. And then a few months ago happened.

One day a stranger strolled into your town. It wasn’t an unlikely sight, your town was a frequent resting place for travelers. But the thing about the stranger is that when they strolled into town they didn’t feel like a stranger. In fact, they felt like they belonged. That’s something I’ve been missing in your town and the stranger had suddenly filled up the gaping hole you didn’t know needed to be filled. You thought you were just being delusional, there is no way such a strange person could make you feel this way? A person you’ve never seen in your life?

But then on a very chilly, very quiet winter day you decided to take a walk to your job. You don’t know what inclined you to do so, the weather was close to being unbearable and the ice and snow were thick on the ground from the snow storm before. But you did anyways as if you were challenging mother nature to try and stop you.

When you walk to your unbearable nine to five, there is a big lake that’s usually within your sights then. Because of the conditions beforehand it had turned into this icy winter wonderland, where the water was frozen solid and hard enough for people to walk across. It wasn’t unusual to see parents taking their bundle of children to go skating across it for fun family bonding, or see teenagers push each other towards the slick frozen over waters, so you paid no mind to it at first. But on your walk you saw something... different.

There was the stranger rhythmically moving his feet left and right, his jet black ice skates kicking up little chips and the frozen lake. He wasn’t wearing much to protect himself from the cold: just a throw on jacket and what looked to be sort of loose fitting pants. And don’t forget the low ponytail he wore his blonde hair in, the most recognizable of his lazy attire.

Why you thought he was going to freeze to death out on the lake at first.

Your brain had started functioning on its own, making decisions you weren’t fully comprehending when they happened. Before you know it, instead of being on your path to your boring nine to five, you were sliding down the side of the hill, careful not to let the snow trip you up, and calling out to him to make sure he was okay. When you had finally made it to the edge of the lake, your feet threatening to tip over and slide across its slick surface, he took notice of you. And then he jumped.

Looking back on it now, it was such a simple thing to do. But it left you in complete awe nonetheless.

Your eyes widened in pure disbelief as you watched him go from gliding with careful foot steps backwards to kicking one foot off the ground and forcefully raising the rest of his body into the air. For a moment you thought he was hovering in time, as if that one movement had stopped the flow of gravity just for him to levitate off the ice for a moment. And then in a slow motion-esqe manner you watched as he spun once in the air and then came back down landing perfectly on the same foot he started with.

A single axel, you recognized. One of the first things a figure skater learns when indulging in the sport. It looks so simple when you look at it from an outside eye but somehow it was enough to plunge you down into a world of wonder that you don’t even know you wanted to be in.

From that interaction, that's how you came to know wild and eccentric, Hwang Hyunjin. The new rising star and fan favorite within the figure skating world, and the owner of several gold medals that newbies don’t usually own. You knew that because he wouldn’t stop telling you once he got the chance. As clueless yet endearing his personality and perfectionist tendencies were, you two hit it off almost immediately. You don’t know whether it was because you like the fact that he was a figure skater, something you used to have a huge interest, or you liked him as a person but either way you two had gotten close enough for him to invite you to things outside of your little town.

One of those things, however, you did not expect to be attending one of the biggest figure skating competitions of his life.

Come with me, he said, it’ll be fun! I can show you how professional I get and how easy it is for me to win.

How it convinced you to join him on a cross-country trip is completely out of your mind. However it’s too late to go back on your words as now you were here at his competition standing on the sidelines with full moon like wide eyes looking back-and-forth between everyone who is currently in the room.

There were several other figure skaters here all warming up on the sidelines and getting ready for their performances to impress the judges. Every single one of them within the room were hoping to attend the Grand Prix of figure skating, and this competition was the last thing standing in their way to being able to compete. Despite this important detail though all of the competitors were looking around anxiously, the skin on the back of their neck standing up as they stayed on edge. There was this sense of stress within all of the skaters as the presumed to be new figure skating champion was in the building.

They were scared that no matter how well they went throughout their performance, they would be no match for the long-haired blonde you knew.

“Y/N!” A chirpy voice called out to you, like sunrays wrapped within their tone. You whirled your head around towards them, finally clicking back into the reality that you were here to support and not to gawk.

A boy not that much older than you came skipping up to you, his freckles stretching across his face like strained stars in a telescope’s eye. Lee Felix was a friend of Hyunjin, working and training under the same coach for their competitions. You had only recently met with him just a few days ago when you and Hyunjin had arrived in the city for his competition, but he already proved himself to be such a friendly and honest person that it felt like you had known him for years.

“Felix,” you grin, pushing yourself away from the railing of the ice rink to meet him halfway. Unlike many of the other figure skaters within the room, dressed in sparkly and eye-catching outfits for their performances, he was just as bundled up with warm clothing as you are. It seemed as though he was going to be watching the skaters instead of joining them on the ice for the day. “What are you doing here? Weren’t you supposed to be with your coach and Hyunjin?”

“Usually,” the boy shrugged, moving his hands within the pockets of his puffy jacket. “But I’m not the one competing today, am I? Why would I sit and listen to a lecture about doing my best and aiming for the top when it’s not even aimed at me? Plus it gets boring after awhile.”

You snort at the boy’s excuse, rolling your eyes and turning back towards the ice. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because moral support can take someone a long way?”

“Is it not enough moral support to be standing up and watching from the side lines instead of laying down in my nice, warm, cozy bed? I could be sitting right next to a heated fireplace right now but here I am standing in the cold with no blanket to wrap myself in.” Felix jeered, his eyes looking far off into a world you couldn’t see. But by the expressions on his face you could assume he was fantasizing about the warm bed he had mentioned.

“How can you be an ice skater if the only thing on your mind is a bed and warmth?” You teased.

“Hey! I can’t help the fact that being warm is the best feeling in the universe! Why do you think I like hugs so much? It’s basically just sharing body heat so you won’t be cold,” He argued, wrapping his arms around himself to mimic the gesture. “Let’s not forget the fact that some people also give out the best hugs I’ve ever felt as well.”

You had to conceal the obnoxious laugh that wanted to escape your mouth. Felix was such an endearing person, the way he acts and the way he talks were two completely different things from when he was on the ice. Or at least that’s what Hyunjin told you, but he was known for… overdramatizing things.

“Speak of the devil!” Felix exclaimed untangling his arms from around himself and pointing to the other end of the ice rink. “There’s the star of the day!”

The chitter chatter of the competitors and watchers suddenly began to lower, turning into a low mumble as everyone’s eyes were fixated on the ice skater who had just stepped on the ice to warm up with the feat of the skaters.

Figure skaters are like fairies, you remind yourself. They move across the ice as if they’re flying and they sparkle in the light with a certain ethereal and shimmer to them. You knew this, you’ve always known this about figure skaters. But there was a certain flare about Hyunjin that was simply unmatched by every other competitor in the room.

Maybe it didn’t help with the fact that Hyunjin was already conventionally attractive in your eyes, but seeing him skate across the ice in his costume for his performance was mesmerizing. The way the light bounced across the glittery blue fabric of his ruffled Victorian shirt, or the way the colors of white and blue hues would blend into a beautiful ombré when in combination with his pitch black pants and ice skates. Don’t even get started on how the way the azure blue ribbon tied up in his blond hair gave him just the right amount of purity to make him seem as though he were an angel in the flesh.

Mesmerizing, just mesmerizing.

“Hyunjin!” Felix called, waving his hands to catch the skater’s attention. The boy immediately turned the both of you, a soft smile appearing on his lips as he changed courses and began to glide towards the two of you. The bright lights of the ice rink made him shimmer like stars as he approached and the unorthodox beating of your heart was making it extremely hard to focus on one thing at a time right now. You had never seen him all dolled up and captivating while he was skating before. The best you had ever seen from him was a black skinny jeans and an overpriced on-brand hoodie.

“Felix,” He greeted, his soft smile still unchanging as he dressed his fellow skater. Hyunjin leaned up against the railing for support as his eyes then drifted towards you, adoration swirling within his irises. “Y/N. How do I look? Usually I’m not dressed too flashy but the coach thought this would be a nice change for this particular song.”

“You look nice,” you manage to choke out, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible with the burning hot reds of your ears and your clear flustered face. The figure skater pouted in response to your lackluster compliment, probably expecting a much grander praise from you seeing as this was your first time seeing him dressed in such a way. “What? I told the truth, you look nice.”

“Nothing else? Just nice?” He urged, trying to push another, higher quality compliment out of you. “What about… gorgeous? Ethereal? Bewitching? Exquisite—“

“Nice,” you repeat, absentmindedly running your hands through each strand of blond hair you could reach and gazing at the blue ribbon in his hair. “You look nice.”

“Oh,” Hyunjin nodded, melting into you as you rhythmically brushed your hands through his hair. “Alright, I’ll take that.”

“I did not come here to see you be gross with each other,” Felix chimed in, reminding the two of them that they weren’t alone at the lake in your little town, but in an ice rink filled with people whose eyes were always watching Hyunjin’s every move. The figure skater pushed himself off of the railing, putting a small distance between the two of you as a sheepish laugh escaped his mouth.

You attempted to laugh it off as well, punching Felix in the shoulder with a little too much strength to try and hide the embarrassment. How could you have forgotten that was literally right next to you? What if you slipped up and said something without realizing he was there? What if you acted without realizing everyone’s eyes were constantly on Hyunjin, and because he approached you, you as well?

Stupid Y/N. You’re so stupid, stupid, stupid—

“That’s my que,” Hyunjin gasped as a man spoke over the speakers, his words blasting into everyone’s ears to remind them that the competition would soon begin. You weren’t really paying attention to what was being said, though. Your eyes were too focused on the way the fabric of Hyunjin’s ombré blue and white shirt fit his physique perfectly and the way his hair was fell into perfect shape on his shoulders. “Wish me luck!”

“Get that first place bro,” Felix encouraged him, giving him a hard and strong high five. “Take us to the Grand Prix, I really wanna go to Tokyo this year.”

“That depends,” the figure skater said, turning towards with a shining grin plastered onto his face. “Y/N, do you wanna go to Tokyo?”

“You’re gonna put your whole rookie career on Y/N?” Felix gasped, his eyes widened in disbelief as he looked between the two of you. You don’t blame him for being so caught off guard by Hyunjin’s question, you were just as confused as Felix was.

Your bewildered expression and utter silence wasn’t being taken for an answer as Hyunjin intently looked at you, patiently waiting for you to respond despite the speakers overhead telling all skaters to clear off the ice. After taking a moment to compose yourself, you finally open your mouth to speak. “Hyunjin, you’ve been working towards the Grand Prix final for how long now? You shouldn’t be placing your entire career on—“

“Answer the question,” he interrupted. “Do you want to go to Tokyo with me?”

“Yes,” You finally answer him. “I would like to go to Tokyo with you.”

It was like your answer gave Hyunjin a sudden boost of motivation, his smile going from ear to ear and his eyes turning into little crescent moons as he began to shift to and fro on the ice. “Alright then,” He nodded, kicking himself backwards to go and join the rest of the skaters who were simply waiting for the boy to step off the ice. As he skated backwards, hands behind his back and his ice skates kicking up little chunks of ice, he kept eye contact with you and called out. “I’ll make sure I’ll take you to Tokyo, Y/N! And I’ll win the gold medal just for you!”

“Of course, you will!” You tell after him as he turned around. “You’re obligated to win me the gold medal because you brought me all the way here without telling me! Your gold medal is my gold medal!”

[anothertimdrakestan]

Hot Stuff (Tim Drake x Reader)

Words: 3k

Req: “can you do a fic where the reader has to get protected and she doesn't want to and thinks it's dumb but like otherwise someone is gonna try to kill her so a batboy (of your choice) has to protect her and they like realize they like each other? i just think it would be really cute sorry haha you can ignore me.”

I’m not gonna ignore you!!! this is adorable! also i let ppl vote not knowing the prompt and they picked tim hehehe so this will be fun! you really left me a LOT of creative freedom lmao so i tried my best but had a lot of fun lolz hope you enjoy angel!

It had been at least 5 years since you had ever shivered. And the last time it happened you were like 20 seconds away from dying so the fact that it was becoming a common feeling was definitely a problem. But your near death every couple minutes was a pretty dumb excuse to get you holed up in the batcave being watched over by none other than Mr. Batman himself. 

The whole problem arose when all the cold-powered super villains decided it was time for their equivalent of a crossover, deciding that if the world was frozen over they could... steal shit? Then unfreeze it or something? They were always a little slow (call it brain freeze if you will) but the beginnings of their plan worked and the temperature of the Earth was dropping steadily which didn’t bode well for a hero like you who’s powers revolved around heat and energy, the colder you got the weaker- making this the reason you were in a makeshift furnace set up discreetly in the Batcave. 

“Morning y/n let’s see how you’re doing” Tim greeted you with a wave, grabbing a tablet that was tracking your internal body temperature and other boring statistics on whether or not you’d live. “Oh man, okay, lemme turn it up” Tim tapped at the tablet while you folded another paper airplane and threw it at the glass. “I feel fine man, like really, I’m just chilling” you shrugged, incinerating the paper airplane with a small flame in the center of your palm while Tim chuckled. “Well ya see, you ‘chilling’ is actually quite a bad thing, but yeah a couple minutes with extra heat and you can come to breakfast!” you rolled your eyes at his smothered laughter. “How long you been sitting on that one?” you teased him. 

“Long enough Sparky, now warm up I’m hungry” Tim started you on a burst of energy while he moved on to the main BatComputer. “Whatcha solving today? Anything I can help with?” you squinted at the screen hoping for something interesting. “Bruce is going out to see if he can find the location of all the machines dropping the temp, and no, you’re definitely not going outside anytime soon” Tim chided you while you groaned and let sharp flames jutt from your clenched fists. “I’m not a child, I can regulate my temperature on my own, hell I can still make fire so clearly I’m fine” you said matter-of-factly holding up a flame and letting it dancing into a small burst. 

“And I’d like to keep you that way y/n let’s not risk it, now c’mon I think you’ve taken in enough energy” Tim opened the door to your little glass room, his eyes widening at the heat that brushed over his face. “Dude you ever got hot in there?” Tim questioned, fanning his face from the exposure. “Nope, I’m kinda like that all the time” you explained, casually taking his hand to show him how your skin practically radiated heat. “Oh- wow, you’re really warm but it’s kinda cool.” Tim mumbled, pushing your palm flush up against his, the tops of his fingertips curling around yours while he grinned, “your hands are so small” you snorted, “whatever Drake, I could cook you like a bird if I wanted to,” you laughed, racing up the steps towards the kitchen ready to warm up some breakfast.

That afternoon you were helping Damian through homework hoping for any excitement in the pure boredom. “Alright, done. I’m going to take Titus out you can come- uh actually nevermind.” Damian shot you an apologetic look before grabbing Titus’ collar. “No actually I can go! I’m super warm and got the go ahead!” You quickly stood up, telling yourself a little getaway was necessary. “Really? I believe Drake said-” you cut Damian off, “Tim is like never right about anything yaknow? Let’s go!” You zipped up a couple of your jackets with a grin while Damian led you outside. 

The air was crisp, like a fall day that was on the verge of shifting into winter. “You’re not going to die on me are you?” Damian glanced at you while you breathed in the fresh air peacefully. “No haha, this is just regulating my temperature using my powers for a little while, I get ill when I do it for too long, let’s go!” you raced down the street loving the freedom even though you could feel the cold creep in. 

“Y/n? Y/n? Guys I think her eyelids are moving! Y/N! Can you hear me?” a familiar voice buzzed over the white noise while you began to regain your senses. Slowly you blinked your eyes open to see Damian, who looked pissed, Bruce, who also looked pissed, and Tim, who looked worse than ever. “WHAT WERE YOU THINKING YOU LIED TO DAMIAN TO GO OUTSIDE THEN ALMOST DIED!” Tim was waving his hands and showing you charts of your warmth-cold ratios being at all time lows and spouting off concerning facts about your health while Bruce just looked at the ceiling asking ‘why me’. 

“I thought I’d be fine” you whispered, feeling your throat scream at it’s use. “It’s like freezing outside- freakin colder than winter- and you wanted to go outside???” Tim looked exasperated, he was in a loose tank top and shorts, it looked like he’d been sweating so he had probably been next to you for a while during your recovery. “I didn’t think I’d get so cold” you mumbled, flexing your hands while you tried to regain your strength. 

Eventually Tim calmed down, he went back to working on cases but you noticed him frequently checking to confirm you hadn’t left your new room. Damian chastised you for lying and told you how you essentially fainted a couple blocks into the walk, it was just way too cold too for you to function outside. But the small taste of freedom was worth it. 

“Hey hot stuff,” Tim gave you a little devilish smile at his new nickname for you. “Cute Drake, but what’s up?” you called back as he approached your makeshift oven-room. “Nothing much just thought I’d come hangout- warm up your cold dark heart for once” you shook your head at all his heat-centered puns. “Tough talk for a glorified shish-kebab” you said with a laugh, letting a little spark dance on your finger tips. 

“What does it feel like? The powers and being cold?” Tim asked, his eyes still staring at your palm. “Mhm it’s a part of me yaknow? So when it’s cold its like a piece of my being is being stifled, like choked out of me. But normally, it just flows through me and I can channel it and what not but right now it feels... rigid, like every ounce of warmth is being used to circulate through my own body” you said with a sign, missing the freedom and immense warmth. “We’re gonna fix this y/n you know that right? This is only temporary, I promise.” Tim whispered, inching closer to the glass. 

You felt a tear slip out, quickly you pushed it away feeling it evaporate in your hands you looked up at Tim who was inches from the glass, his cheeks were red from the heat radiating on him as he stood bundled in a sweater. Slowly he gave you a hopeful smile, putting his hand up against the glass. With a small smile you uncurled your hand up to meet his, for a second you just met his eyes and knew you were safe. Even when everything seemed so cold Tim was warm, and he was always there for you. 

A couple days later you were stable, but constantly needing reheating. You’d spent a lot of time with Tim who had set up a little workspace outside your room. He’d work on cases and talk to you, sometimes he’d catch a few minutes of sleep, his cheek pressed adorably up to the warm glass while you stifle giggles as his sleepy breaths fog the glass. Your situation was bearable with Tim, and you were really starting to enjoy his company.

“Red Robin we’ve got something” you watched Tim shoot up from his work as Bruce descended into the Batcave. “Barry Allen and the rest of Star Labs have reason to believe the frost machines aren’t actually underground, but their above us. Think pumping out cold air like an AC machine for the Earth” Tim nodded, sitting down at the batcomputer as he began typing rapidly. You were straining your neck against the glass to try to see what he was doing. 

“Got it, try here, here, and here” Tim was pointing wildly at a map while Bruce sent out the coords. “Suit up, if we’re right this’ll be a real fight” Bruce said as he left to go get the others. After Tim was in his suit he came up next to your room with a grin. You looked at him with hopeful eyes, “you think this is it?” you asked Tim while he flashed you a hopeful smile. “I hope so y/n, if we’re lucky this will be it” he answered, taking a deep breath and clenching his hands into fists. “Well you need extra luck” you told him, he nodded then stopped short when you burst out of the room, throwing your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. “My hugs are super lucky” you whispered into his chest while his hands wrapped around your back. “I’ll take all the luck I can get” he mumbled, lowering his head into the crook of your neck. The hug was easy and perfect- until you started to shiver. Quickly Tim deposited you back into your room, turning up the heat. 

“Guess I’m not hot enough for you” Tim snorted while you rubbed your shoulders. “Shut up dork, now go fix the world so I can give you a proper hug” you placed your hand against the glass again. With a nod he placed his hand to yours, “will do” he said, dashing off towards Bruce and Damian who were also all suited up. 

“Y/n I must inform you they have in fact found the base and will be going into battle shortly” Alfred called from the computers while he monitored the team’s location. “Yes!” you shouted, pumping a fist in the air while you paced around your room. 

The plan was clear, there were 10 giant AC machines pumping out the frost across the world, some heroes had been separated into teams each tasked with taking out their respective machine then any hero strong enough to lift the machines were in charge of bringing them to an undisclosed location on one of Bruce’s private islands for inspection and dismantling. Alfred had Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian’s vitals displayed on the screen as their suits were consistently monitoring them and you’d been craning your neck to keep track of the little bars. “god Alfie how do you take it? You can see every hit they take, every injury, you’re basically looking at it all going wrong!” you felt like tearing your hair out, watching the screen light up with every hit each boy took. 

“You get used to it Ms. Y/n you must have faith that they’ve seen worse and can survive anything” Alfred answered cooly but it didn’t stop you from wincing everytime Tim’s bar lowered or lit up meaning he took a hit. 

Over the comms you heard Bruce and Damian confirm their machine was sufficiently broken, as well as 8 of the other machines. As it turned out, Tim, Dick, and one of those annoying speedsters had been sent to the head machine, a few members of the league were at the other. You watched Tim take hit after hit, clearly him and Dick were struggling. “Alf is it just me or are Tim and Dick’s bars not going up” you were pounding at the glass of your room. Slowly Alfred nodded, abruptly standing up. To your shock he began moving around the cave, setting up what looked like a makeshift hospital room. “There will almost assuredly be some injuries after this battle. But how are you feeling Ms. Y/n as over half of the machines have been taken down” Alfred drew you away from the flashing bars as you realized you were feeling better, still not top shape but better than you’d been in days. “Yeah you’re right I’m definitely feeling better-”

“Hey Alfie Tim just got buried in snow any recommendations?” you heard Dick’s voice come over the speakers. Your head whipped to his bar which was flashing wildly as you shrieked. Alfred replied quickly, “Master Dick you must remove him immediately and wrap him with something warm as his suit cannot regulate him in freezing temperatures.” as he made his way back to the batcomputer, talking Dick through his next actions. 

“Will do, he’ll be okay but he’s kinda a popsicle right now” Dick’s voice came over the comms again while you let out the breath you’d been holding in as you saw Tim’s bar sliding back up. Shortly after they were aided by the rest of the league, promptly taking out the final machine and finding the villains hiding inside. 

Dick, Tim, and Damian returned to the cave shorty, Bruce was busy with league business interrogating the villains. Damian came in first, declaring he now hated the cold after how freezing that mission was. Following him was Dick who was walking with a slight limp as he called to Alfred explaining that he just twisted it when he dug Tim out of the snow. And last, Tim made his way into the cave. His hair was wet, clearly melted from being buried under snow. He was wearing a Star Labs sweatshirt and sweatpants as he held his waterlogged suit in his slightly shaky hands, and a towel was draped over his shoulders. “Alf you want my suit? Pretty sure I fried half the tech” he called as he shook his head, little water droplets flying from his hair. “I’ll see to it’s repair Master Tim” Alfred nodded, gesturing for Tim to place it next to him. “Also, might I recommend you spend some time with Miss Y/n as she is quite capable of warming you up” Alfred gestured towards your room before going back to examining Dick’s ankle. 

Tim nodded in agreement, giving you a little wave as he stumbled into the room with you. Letting the relief flood your head you quickly brought him into a warm hug, focusing on pushing some of your energy forwards to warm him up. “Mhm” Tim’s eyelashes fluttered shut against your neck while he melted into your embrace. “You’re so cold” you whispered with a giggle. “Yeah and you’re really hot” Tim groaned in reply, though you could feel his lips curl into a smile against your neck. “I think you meant warm” you tried to ignore the butterflies having a rager in your stomach. “Hm no I said it right” Tim whispered in your ear making your eyes widen at his upfront response. “Oh, I- uh, thanks? I think you’re pretty cool- no not cool cuz like that’s the opposite of hot- yeah you’re-” you were silenced as Tim pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes shot open at the feeling of his ice cold lips pressed to yours but they quickly fluttered closed when his hand wrapped around the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. His lips quickly warmed up against yours making your breath hitch when he slipped a cold hand around your waist pulling you flush against him. His fingers felt like ice as they grasped your back but you couldn’t but melt into his touch. 

You pulled away first, taking in gasping breaths while you couldn’t help but grin. “You warm yet?” you teased, pulling his hand away from your back and placing your hand in his, giving it a warm squeeze. “Mhm one more kiss” he pouted, leaning down to place a smiling kiss onto your lips while you scrunched your nose. “I should seriously freeze to death more often if it means I get to kiss you” Tim said while you rolled your eyes. “Or you could just not die and I might give you a good-job kiss?” you offered with a grin. “Will do” Tim nodded, giving your hand a squeeze. 

“Goodbye oven!” you shouted, practically kicking the door open as you finally got to leave the cramped room behind. Just a day later the Earth had returned to average temperature and you were free. “I am SO ready to go home, not that I didn’t like it here” you said, giving Tim a little smile as Bruce return all your belongings after a little over a week in Bat-Solitude. “Come back soon though?” Tim piped up with a hopeful looks. “Definitely, I won’t give you the cold shoulder” you snorted at your own joke while Damian groaned, saying something about being happy he’ll be free of your puns. 

Tim walked you out, chatting your ear off about his next cases and all the time he had to come see you, over the course of the frozen-adventure you’d found a best friend and possibly something more, maybe the oven was worth it after all? 

“Okay, so I’ll see you in a couple days?” you grinned as Tim nodded. “Yup! Now before you go, I need another good luck hug- they definitely work wonders seeing as last time I got buried in snow” Tim laughed, wrapping his arms around you as he chuckled into the hug. “Not my fault you turned into a snowman Drake” You gave him a squeeze before pulling away, locking eyes with him. His hand slipped to your chin again, but this time you wrapped your hands around his neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, loving the way sparks danced on your lips. Pulling out of the kiss as the car arrived Tim opened the door for you like the gentleman he is, giving your hand a squeeze.

“See you later hot stuff” Tim winked at you, shutting the door and waving as you drove away, shaking your head at his never ending puns, you smiled to yourself as soon as he was out of view, loving the idea that you’d get to tease that cute dork for the rest of your life. 

[battlestar-royco]

IT'S BEEN 84 YEARS. LET'S TALK ABOUT NETFLIX'S SHADOW AND BONE.

8.7/10 ⭐️

spoilers for everythingggg under the cut! i'll be discussing its merits as an adaptation vs as a show, characters and plots, and the overall aesthetic and magic/world.

SHOW VS ADAPTATION:

i say this as someone who knows all the books very well and has been in the fandom for nearly a decade, so i'm biased. but. s&b functions better as an adaptation than as a standalone show. alina's plot moves so well, and satisfyingly renders so many iconic scenes and sites from s&b. the worldbuilding is also pretty easy to fall into, with a forgivable amount of voiceover/infodump. and, hurting budget aside, i mostly liked this visual interpretation of the gv.

(sidebar: the in-universe racism... doesn't work. i tried to view it in good faith but imo it was very heavy-handed. if it was framed like, "wow it's a SHU WOMAN saving the world!!!" it might've been better, but it's just racism without recompense. and it's a terrible look to make other characters of color racist. i just. why?)

as for the crows, however... i'm just not sure how strong they'll be for new viewers? i totally understand why they were included, and i really like certain connections the show made between the two series. it was a great decision to introduce the druskelle in the first Cut scene, and showing nina as a ravkan spy.

the new crows stuff felt in character, but i think the show is at its height when it sticks to the books. the first couple episodes switching between tgt and proto-soc gave me whiplash, but luckily it got more organic as it progressed. if i didn't know and love all the crows before going in, i wouldn't be that invested in them based on season 1. aside from a couple fantastic scenes, it really felt like the writers were trying to make fetch happen for like 4 episodes before they figured out what to do with everyone. plus, ravka is such a different vibe from ketterdam--tonally, sartorially, technologically, etc they didn't totally feel like the same world. it was pretty jarring. although i prefer the duo to the trio, s&b is alina's story and she is That Bitch who walked so the crows could fly. so i didn't hate their inclusion but the shoehorned content did at times disservice both plots, imo.

CHARACTERS:

way too many, which is yet another consequence of smushing everyone into one season.

MAL/ALINA/DARKLING: first and foremost, and i PROMISE i'm not saying this just to be a hater, but there needed to be less malina. i'll be the first to say that show!mal really has what book!mal wants. the new pre-fold scenes were so good. li and renaux have amazing chemistry, and their laughter over stolen grapes was a highlight. his stag plot was also good. THAT SAID, there were way too many keramzin flashbacks and malina parallels like.. 🤢🤢why do they want us to love mal so much. for what. they only needed the teacup scene but they clearly thought they were doing something with micro-aggressions and that meadow shot they showed like 6 times. knowing mal's original character, and how they scrubbed his show counterpart almost to the point of flawlessness, he's just never going to be my fave even though i do respect what they did with him. also, why were there like 5 fake deaths for this dude? boring.

the darkling was great. ben barnes knows what the fuck he's about, and he funneled manipulation and charisma into every scene. as for the backstory: at first i really wasn't feeling it, but i eventually did warm up to it and i'm so glad they showed it because oh god the cut and the creation of the fold were SO FUCKING ICONIC. also, love love love the baghra development. WE LOVE TO SEE OLD WOMEN/MOMS WHO AREN'T "EVIL"/"CORRUPTED" BY THEIR MAGICAL POWERS!!!!!!! BITCH! it didn't have to be 12 minutes long though.

i honestly don't have much to say on alina. jml was excellent in her role and very true to the book. without her book narration she feels much more consistently written.

TRILOGY CHARACTERS: i really felt the lack of genya and zoya. genya's character and actress are perfectly layered and effective, even though their roles are relatively minor. i'm so looking forward to her razrushost moment, but i wish they'd laid more groundwork for it. (and i hope throw out the wig and just dye her hair next season.) also like. WHY KEEP THE IRRELEVANT MEAN GIRL/DARKLING THIRST PLOT FOR ZOYA??? AFTER ALL THE EFFORT THEY PUT INTO IMPROVING MAL? they sacrificed so much for malina at the expense of other characters. finally, it was interesting how they decided to kill marie. i love the tailor magic flex. but also they clearly just did that to emotionally manipulate us and connect the crows so. hm.

CROWS: speaking of! the crows storyline felt a little like filler. honestly i wish they waited to roll crows into later seasons. i'd prefer little foreshadowings about them, a la the druskelle cameo or the references to nina and matthias. introducing the crows so soon makes the ice court heist feel less special. the recruitment was super tight and pragmatic, so this felt a little fluffy/fanservicey. kaz also comes off as sooooo old again. especially without the vulnerability of his book counterpart, he just seems like a 40-year-old in a 20something body.

i was pleasantly surprised to find jesper my favorite crow. like wow.... second amendment rights for jesper fahey only!! i like all the crows but book!kanej are my faves by a long shot. they felt a bit stiff tbh, like the actors were a little uncomfy with each other and/or their exposition-heavy lines. however, the one scene that felt EXTREMELY kanej to me was when they killed that dude in the church holy fuck oh my god. WE STAN AN ANGSTY BATTLE COUPLE WHO ARE BOTH DEAD INSIDE. highlight for sure.

and i actually kinda loved helnik? i know helnik is controversial for very valid reasons, but i thoughy their dynamic was fantastic and they were among the strongest performers. it was much less overwhelming than the constantly interweaving kaz/inej/jesper imo. they need to fire their location scout though. those green screen mountains and beaches were um. interesting.

aesthetic and magic:

i really hope they get a bigger budget for costumes, cgi, and sets next season! the keftas are serviceable, but they look a little cheap at times. i will also never forgive ANY of the crows' hats. it's mostly just a personal aesthetic thing but god i fucking hate them. the darkling was best dressed, but in general i liked the ravkan look more than the kerch. why were the crows always in the most elaborate getups? why couldn't they just chill in their waistcoats??? they never seemed relaxed in the way alina and co did; the clothes never felt worn or broken in.

favorite sets: the darkling's room, the crow club, all the grisha tents, the matthias/nina ship, the church where inej killed the squaller, outdoor fountain where they told the story of the black heretic. the lighting was almost always right for each scene, and there was so much detail in every one of them.

THE MAGIC WAS SO COOL! my greatest beef is alina's light--it often looked so fake, and it washed out jml. oftentimes it was fluorescent or blue, and it was used as a forcefield or orb. it's supposed to be sunlight bro. what is so hard about that? the darkling's magic looked good, other than the fold. i've always imagined the fold more like a huge black fog rather than a literal wall. so that was a bit game of thronesy, but not terrible.

and can we talk about the amplifiers? amplifiers are my personal favorite gv lore but season 1 barely gets into them. they never mention the bear zoya slew, nor do they establish the unique strength of the stag, sea dragon, and firebird. BUT THE ANTLER COLLAR FUSED INTO ALINA'S SKIN WAS SUPER DARK AND MACABRE AND I KINDA LIKED IT? ALTHOUGH I HAVE TO WONDER HOW TF IS SHE GONNA SLEEP???

if you made it this far, thanks so much! that's all i have for today.

[novantinuum]

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

[tardis-stowaway]

Ten years after the Not-pocalypse, Adam Young, age 21 and recently graduated from university:

-Works in a crappy retail job and lives in a tiny, crappy flat in London

-The crappy flat has no sound insulation, so he’s always hearing the absurd amount of movement from the people in the flat above and the really loud but not quite intelligible conversations from the people in the flat next door. It’s a long way to the nearest public park, and he misses the green of home.

-Is not all that good at his customer service job, with the exception that if a customer is irrationally angry about something, he says he wants to make sure he understands the problem and repeats their complaint back to them with this look in his eyes, and they universally back down and often apologize. His coworkers love him for it. Everything else is just drudgery.

-Single, despite his best efforts. Okay, maybe not his best efforts, but some efforts.

-Knows that his childhood was uncommonly idyllic at least partly due to his powers. He’s not entirely sure how his life went quite so off the rails lately.

-Maybe his powers have faded gradually since he rejected his destiny, or maybe it’s just that on some level he absorbed the expectation that being in one’s early 20’s means being broke and a little lost, and the expectation made it happen whether he wanted it or not.

-Or maybe he just should’ve chosen a more employable course of study at uni instead of comparative religion. In his defense, it seemed relevant to his life.

-Spends much of his free time on climate crisis activism. He’ll be damned (ha) if he stood against the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, and his own birthright to preserve the continuing existence of humanity on the Earth only for humans to blunder into destroying themselves unintentionally through greed and shortsighted decisions.

-He’s been doing this since he was twelve, when Brian sent the Them’s group text an article about the group Extinction Rebellion with the caption “named for us?? :)” Adam had laughed, then actually read the article. Within a week he’d convinced the Them and a dozen of their classmates to show up at the next town council meeting with a list of sustainability demands.

-No matter how many civil disobedience events he takes part in, he never seems to get arrested. Adam suspects it’s his supernatural entity privilege. Pepper says it’s probably mostly that he’s white and great at charming his way out of trouble.

-He’s still friends with all of the Them, but they don’t live especially close together. He does have a flatmate, an American who Adam met at uni.

-At this point you, a genre-savvy reader of much Good Omens fic and meta, are probably seeing the word “American” and thinking that Adam is flatmates with Warlock Dowling. For once, you are wrong. 

-Adam’s flatmate is Jesus.

-Not Jesus Christ, but a young man named Jesus Dominguez, pronounced the Spanish way (like hay-soos).

-Jesus is from Southern California, and he talks more than a little bit like a surfer stereotype. He’s got warm brown skin, shoulder-length dark hair in perpetually-mussed waves, and a little beard. He’s kinda leaning into the look  to mess with people, but it’s also the same style found on at least a third of the other male-presenting hipsters in London.

-When he learned that he was going to share a flat with someone named Jesus, Adam called Crowley and Aziraphale. He’s never been gladder that he stayed in touch with them, because he NEEDED someone who understood how the Antichrist and Jesus sharing a flat sounded like the setup for a joke or a sitcom. Crowley did indeed laugh out loud, then told Adam that as a fellow lapsed member of the forces of Hell, he could personally recommend sharing quarters with a heavenly adversary. Aziraphale just muttered “oh, stop” at Crowley.

-Adam moved to London because it was easier to get to the important protests there, and because he was curious. He spent the first six months desperately homesick for Tadfield. The city was so crowded but somehow he still felt so alone, other than Jesus.

-Then a midnight fire-alarm in their building sent him and Jesus into the streets along with dozens of their neighbors. Adam finally met the people in the flat above theirs who made all that moving around noise. They were an older couple who took ballroom dancing lessons at the senior center and liked to practice at home. Mrs. Kapoor tried to teach Adam how to foxtrot right there on the pavement in the middle of the night. He stepped on her feet, but since he was in bare feet and she’d actually taken the time to find shoes it wasn’t a big deal.

-Meanwhile Jesus was finally talking to the loud young men from next door. By the time Adam wandered over, Jesus had learned their names (Leon, Seamus, and Nazim) and secured an invitation for the two of them to come over to watch Saturday’s football match, and to join their next D&D campaign (“just no more  paladins,” said Nazim). Adam looked forward to finding out whether it was the D&D or the football that was the cause of more yelling.

-As the evacuation stretched on with no hint of either actual fire or clearance to go back inside, the building’s children began to get fussy. Adam found a coin on the ground (successfully picking it up, because Crowley didn’t make it to this neighborhood very often) and proceeded to distract them with stage magic.

-He initially learned stage magic from Aziraphale, but he’s better at it than the angel ever was. He hardly cheats physical reality at all. The kids love it.

-When the fire department finally gives them the clearance to go back inside, Adam’s stomach rumbles. “Is anyone else hungry?,” he asks, to a chorus of agreement. It’s too late for any nearby takeout, but Jesus chats with their neighbors about options.

-Jesus enlists Adam’s help in going from flat to flat gathering ingredients from everyone, and before long they’re serving fish tacos and grilled cheese sandwiches to a small crowd of pajama-clad people. It’s 2 am, but everyone is smiling, or at least has contentment at the edge of their yawns.

-The next day, Mrs. Kapoor brings Adam and Jesus a spider plant cutting, because she thought their flat looked too bare. Adam texts a picture of it to Crowley and receives back lengthy instructions on watering, pot size, soil, and the most effective threats for the species.

-Five months later, the local planning council has an intense debate about why crime rates in one neighborhood have dropped by 75% since their last meeting. They each try to claim credit for their pet civic projects. Actually, it’s because Adam Young has started to love London, or at least his nook of it.

-Buskers soon realize that certain tube stops are generating far more tips than they ever have before, with no obvious demographic shift accounting for the change. The common ground is that these are the stops on Adam’s commutes to work and his activist meetings. He can only occasionally spare a tip himself, but his enjoyment of the music is contagious.

-Even after the breakthrough, not every day is good. On a late summer day that just happens to be the anniversary of the day the world didn’t end, Adam comes home from a protest fuming.

-“Dude, you okay?” asks Jesus, looking up from his guitar. (Jesus sometimes goes to protests with Adam, but not usually the ones where they’re planning on breaking laws. “I’m a brown-skinned foreigner, man. Do you think I’ll get away with what you get away with? I’m not ready for that yet,” he says, and Adam can’t argue.)

-“The media barely showed up at our event, probably because it was about a million degrees and even though that’s exactly what we’re protesting, nobody wants to be out in it. Six of our people passed out from the heat and three got arrested. They still didn’t arrest me, but I got pushed over and cracked my phone screen. On my way home, some drunk on the tube vomited on my shoes. Our green jobs bill still doesn’t have the votes in Parliament, and have you seen the latest news on the Antarctic ice sheets?” Adam kicks off his shoes, then collapses dramatically onto the futon and groans.

-“Sounds rough,” says Jesus.

-“I should’ve just ended the damn world when I was eleven and I had the chance. Would’ve been quicker,” Adam mutters.

-Jesus gets up and goes to the kitchen. He brings Adam a beer. “You don’t mean that, bro,” he says.

-Adam sighs, accepting the beer. “I suppose not.”

-He drinks his beer. Dog, now grey-muzzled and slow, shuffles over to curl up at his feet. Adam pulls out his phone, which is cracked but still seems functional. He’s got a text from Aziraphale.

-“Dear Adam,” the text begins, because Aziraphale might have finally deigned to learn to text but he steadfastly refused to adopt its stylistic conventions, “I hope that you have returned safely from today’s protest. I’m very proud of your continuing efforts, and though he won’t admit it I know that Crowley feels the same. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Fondly, Aziraphale”

-Adam texts back to reassure the angel, who will doubtless pass it on to Crowley, then he texts similar reassurances to his parents and to Mrs. Kapoor upstairs. He’s still figuring out this adulthood thing, but he’s got a lot of parental figures looking out for him. His Infernal Bio-Dad isn’t one of them, and that’s the way Adam likes it.

-Through the open window comes the sound of music blasting from a car stuck in traffic below. Freddie Mercury and David Bowie are singing:

And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night, And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

-He turned down the chance to rule the world, and he’d make the same choice again, but he still feels a certain proprietary responsibility towards the planet and its inhabitants. His father—his real, earthly father—didn’t raise him to shirk responsibility, and he’s not one to cave under pressure.

-Life is hard, people are mostly idiots, and the world is coming apart at the seams, but it’s his messed up life and his idiotic people and his beautiful, half-broken world.

[harryandmolly]

fear and loathing in mandeville canyon *7* - final

A/N: thanks for hanging out, guys. always a pleasure 💜

summary: Shawn & Lilly, derailed, detoured, but maybe not destroyed

warnings: language, butter, adulting

wc: 5.6k

----------

Lilly takes shallow breaths, all her tight core will allow as she carefully raises her legs back up over her head. The pressure at the crown is almost unbearable -- she’s probably still not totally strong enough to support all her weight in her core and arms like this in a tripod headstand, but she’s never been able to successfully raise her legs off the floor. So she can ignore the pesky brain pulsing. For a few seconds.

Lilly huffs and lowers her legs slowly, spread as wide as she can get them, until her feet hit the floor, taking some of the weight off her head. She unfurls to sit, blinks quickly and grins, catching a glimpse of her bright eyes and flushed cheeks in the reflection of the open glass door. Lilly straightens her back and admires herself, strong and stable, the result of a lot of hard fucking work.

She completes her practice as directed by her perky online instructor and lies in supported fish pose a little longer than usual. She rolls her hips, noticing the way it affects each notch of vertebrae in her back.

Her phone buzzes beside her mat. Her nose twitches as she fights a smile. She glances at it, though she doesn’t need to to know who it is.

Shawn: you coming?

Lilly closes her eyes and types back by muscle memory.

Lilly: shhhhh I’m zen

She rests her phone on her stomach and enjoys the way the night breeze sifts through the room.

The phone makes an angrier but muffled sound on her skin. She checks it, expecting a whining plea or a series of emojis. Instead her jaw drops and she chokes on a breath and pushes herself to sit.

Lilly knows this house as well as her own now. She traces her fingers lovingly along the hallway walls as she winds her way down the stairs and follows the music. It’s Harry Styles, which explains a lot.

The sliding doors to the pool are unlatched but shut to keep out the dreaded mosquitos. It’s past dusk now, the sky will go from cobalt to midnight soon. The pool lights make the water glow a smooth, clean turquoise. It’s interrupted by the boy in the shallow end with his arms hanging on the side, wearing a smirk that barely contains a goofy grin.

Lilly toes carefully over the gravel, hissing as it bites at her feet. The song changes to “Watermelon Sugar,” which incidentally is very appropriate, given the contents of his last text. He notices it too and that smirk gets even dopier.

Lilly shakes her head and glides to the edge of the pool, curling her opalescent painted toes over the edge. She crosses her arms and waves her phone.

“Is this a tease or an actual invitation?”

Shawn lifts a shoulder coyly. He draws a hand into the water and wiggles his fingers through it, looking casual. “Both, I guess. I got you out here, didn’t I?”

Lilly laughs and nods, glancing around. He already grabbed towels for them both when he came out here an hour ago to do laps, part of his regular routine now.

She hears movement in the water and looks down to see him wading toward her. He blinks innocently through wet, dark lashes and places a gentle kiss to each of her big toes, then rests his cheek on her feet.

“Your sushi’s inside on the counter,” he murmurs.

Lilly nods. “I’ll get it later.”

While his eyes are down, Lilly lifts her ribbed crop tank over her head and tosses it on a nearby chair. He lifts his head in time to watch her bare nipples harden in the breeze. His eyes bulge.

“Uh oh, I’m in trouble now,” he teases, kicking off the wall to float on his back as he watches her undress. She wriggles out of her leggings and panties while keeping her eyes on the hills and valleys of his torso.

As she rounds the corner of the pool to take the stairs, Shawn straightens up, sniffing and pushing his hands back through his hair. He opens his arms to her. She walks right in, tucking her arms and legs around him. His content sigh is so heavy the water ripples around them.

His hands wander her back and tangle in the ends of her hair, which looks redder and silkier in the water. Their heads rest side by side like they each need the other to hold them up. Lilly turns her face into his ear, giving his cartilage a lick and greedily sniffling the chlorine in his hair.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the dirtiest text you’ve ever sent me.”

She feels him chuckle and holds him even tighter. He scoops his hands down around her ass and starts to wade deeper into the water.

“You inspire me,” Shawn whispers, swaying with her toward the edge, where he can pin her up against the tile wall. She hisses upon contact with the cool stone and he takes the opportunity to steal a kiss.

It’s languid, exploring. She’s pretty sure he knows better than to try to fuck her in the pool. That’s only hot in movies. She thinks maybe he just missed her.

“How’d it go today?” she hums.

“Good. Mostly. There are still a few pieces that need to come together for the first two tracks and I’m still not quite getting what I want for track eight, but it was productive.”

Despite their circumstances, Lilly and Shawn have been pseudo-functional adults lately. Once the tent (as they’ve taken to calling the makeshift recording booth) went up, Shawn buckled down to focus on recording and working with producers and the other musicians tracking instruments. Lilly has finally tossed herself full time into writing, breaking for yoga and snacks and to visit him, if she’s super quiet, which she’s not, so she always gets politely kicked out after a take or two.

“How ‘bout you?”

Lilly pecks at the corner of his mouth and nods. “Also good. I almost totally rewrote that scene from yesterday but honestly I feel a lot better about it. It has some life in it now.”

“Good,” Shawn purrs, aiming his lips down at her shoulder. She smiles and tilts her nose into his hair again. Greedy, greedy.

“And… I finally did it.”

Shawn lifts his head and watches her like her face will give him a clue. In a matter of seconds, he lights up.

“Shut the fuck up. The whole way?”

Lilly’s cheeks scrunch with the effort of her smile. “The whole way. Probably killed a bunch of brain cells, but I did it.”

“Lill, that’s nuts! That’s so awesome!” he cries, squeezing her tighter, “Shit, I wanted to film it! I was gonna put it on Insta and tag you as #fitspo!”

Lilly snorts and drops her forehead to rest against his. “What a fun way to announce us to the world.”

“That I’m having really hot yoga sex with my really hot, stretchy girlfriend? I love that for me.”

Lilly cackles, dropping her head back against the stone. Shawn plods kisses up her throat.

“Will you show me later?” he asks, speaking into her wet skin.

“Not tonight, you’re going to be very busy, remember?”

Shawn goes quiet and still for a moment, then jolts with a laugh. “Uh huh, right. So busy. All night long kinda busy.”

Lilly can’t hide her squirm. Shawn gathers her in off the wall so she’s plastered against him, their noses brushing.

“That’s the best kind of busy.”

+

“Don’t headbutt me, don’t headbutt me, don’t headbutt me…”

Lilly’s quite sure he can’t hear her, even though he’s lying on top of her. He refused to get out of bed to get the phone charging cord, so he rolled over onto Lilly, his head on her chest under the sheets, as his hand flails toward the ground.

Lilly’s face scrunches up as he grunts and wriggles.

“Don’t headbutt me, don’t--”

“Huh?”

Shawn lifts his head straight into Lilly’s chin, even as she tries at the last second to tilt it away. His enormous head smacks into the base of her jaw, making her clench down on her tongue. She wails.

“Shit! Fuck, I’m sorry!”

The cord is forgotten. Shawn pushes himself up over her and cups her jaw, nudging his lips over the bridge of her nose. He pulls back after a few seconds to inspect her.

Lilly swats at him. “Fuck. God, you’re like Megamind only… less blue. I think my tongue is bleeding.”

She sticks her tongue out and lifts her eyebrows. “Ih ih ee-ing?”

Shawn looks closer. “Nope.” He cradles her face in both hands and kisses her soundly, sliding his tongue against hers, pressing a warm sigh out of her sleepy morning body.

“There, all better,” he determines, folding himself down beside her.

“That’s as close to vampirism as I ever hope to get with you,” Lilly grumbles, reaching for her phone. She allows his apology kisses as she scrolls through Twitter and brushes her toes against his calf.

Her shoulders drop. She exhales and puts the phone down. The sheet comes up over her head. Shawn follows curiously.

“What?”

She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Lover Fest is cancelled.”

Shawn makes a murmur of acknowledgement and tucks his arm around her, pulling the covers higher over both of them. The morning light is diffused through the clean white sheet.

“You kinda knew it would be, though,” he points out, sounding dejected for her.

Lilly’s face crumples into a pout. “I mean, yeah, but I just think it sucks that the universe has chosen to keep me from Taylor. My spiritual big sister. My celestial homegirl. Fate keeps us apart and its cruelty is weighing on me.”

Lilly feels safe enough to get melodramatic in front of Shawn for several reasons, not the least of which is that he, too, can pitch an impressive fit when he wants to. He also chooses not to judge her for complaining about a cancelled concert when millions of people around the world are sick and dying, of which she’s well aware. The guilt hits her secondarily, a privilege in and of itself.

“I’m so gross. I have no right to be upset about this right now.”

Shawn lifts some coppery strands out of her face and tucks them behind her ear. “You’re allowed to care about both.”

Lilly remains grouchy and unconvinced.

“Plus, the universe can’t keep you from Taylor forever, since we’re friends.”

Lilly keeps her eyes down and sucks at her front teeth. Shawn nudges her.

“What?”

Lilly’s expression doesn’t change, save for her eyebrows lifting. Her eyes remain unfocused on her legs. Shawn noses at her temple. Her eyes shut.

“Lillian, what?”

Lilly squirms and lifts the sheet over their heads, letting the world back in. She slides out of his arms and out of the bed, crossing to the chair for her cozy shorts and a big shirt.

“... nothing. It’s nothing.”

She knows she’s not getting away with it, not even close. She doesn’t want to look at him to see just how much she’s not pulling this off.

“Baby, come on.”

Lilly takes a long moment to blink and turns to face him. He’s shirtless and flushed in their rumpled sheets. She tilts her head and sighs, drifting back to him. She gets a knee up on the bed and slides her fingers into his curls. They seem to hug around them like her hand belongs there. He’s staring up at her like a woodland creature.

“Nothing. We should stop fucking and go call our moms before they realize that we’re total heathens.”

Shawn swallows uneasily but seems ready to drop it, for now. He takes her wrist to his lips and chuckles.

“My mum already knows.”

“About you, maybe, not about me.”

Shawn smirks and releases her, watching Lilly trail off in search of a cozy phone spot.

“Tell your mom happy mother’s day from me,” he calls.

Lilly looks back at him as she pads down the hall. “And tell yours from me.”

+

Lilly watches, entranced, as each pat of butter melts seamlessly into the silky pot of mashed potatoes. She’s not thinking, she’s not measuring, just feeling. Butter. Butter. More butter. She adds a whole stick before she realizes what she’s doing. Her gaze darts over her shoulder. Shawn is facing away from her at the other countertop, muttering to himself as he pulls out ingredients for Yorkshire puddings. She mashes her lips together and turns back, whisking hard to incorporate all her sins.

Cooking has become nearly as meditative as yoga recently. After spending their first few weeks together abusing their bodies in different ways, cooking feels like healing now. The grill took them a few attempts to master, and they side-stepped some potentially life threatening disasters to do it, but now they char slabs of eggplant and zucchini and ears of corn wrapped in tinfoil. They roast potatoes in the oven with fresh herbs and olive oil. Cooking brings them together at the end of the day and gives them a way to take care of each other and themselves.

Mother’s Day presented the perfect opportunity to expand their repertoires and distract themselves from missing their families. The Sunday roast was Lilly’s idea -- whole roast chicken with thyme butter, creamy mashed potatoes, roasted root veggies and Yorkshire puddings with gravy. Mother’s Day Sunday roast is a Mendes family tradition, one Shawn hasn’t been around for in a few years. He had hoped to be home for this one. Lilly decides to bring some home to him.

His arm is hard and warm, wriggling between the stove and her waist as he winds it around her. His other hand presents her with a glass of white. She accepts the kiss on the side of her neck and pretends to stir to look busy.

“Oh, hi,” she murmurs into the wide-bowled glass.

“Oh, hi,” he chuckles, giving her a squeeze, “I saw the butter.”

Lilly huffs. “Goddamnit.” She can’t shake her stupid smile though. He was watching her when she wasn’t watching him.

“Gonna kill us both,” he purrs into her skin, like he doesn’t mind one bit.

“My plan all along.”

Shawn hums in response and backs off, to Lilly’s chagrin.

“Batter’s ready, chef.”

Lilly turns the range down low to keep the potatoes warm. She turns and waves him over, gloving her hand with an oven mitt to get the hot muffin tin from the pre-heated oven. She holds it as Shawn pours batter into each cup.

“The trick my mom taught me is not to open the oven door once they’re in there,” Shawn reports with a nod, watching as Lilly closes the door and sets a timer. Lilly glances at him suspiciously.

“This isn’t my first rodeo, kid, who do you think you’re talking to?”

Shawn raises his eyebrows, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “An American.”

Lilly’s eyes bulge and her jaw drops. She swats him across the chest with her mitt, but lets him cradle her up against him anyway.

“You take that back!” she squeaks.

“I know, I’m sorry, I know you hate being reminded.”

Lilly and Shawn sit on the floor and watch the little popovers rise. They don’t open the oven door even once until the timer goes off.

Lilly puts on John Mayer again over the house speakers. They’re eating in the actual dining room today to be fancy, figuring their setting should match their food.

“He’s been soothing my achy soul lately,” Lilly sighs, dropping into her seat, immediately crossing her legs so her foot brushes up against him. Shawn nods absently but his eyes narrow a little at his potatoes. Lilly’s grin takes up half her face.

“You’re jealous!”

Shawn completes the eye roll his face was begging him for. He finishes chewing and sits back to glare at her. “Of course I’m jealous. Why is my music not enough for your achy soul? Why do you need Mayer?”

The teasing lilt in Shawn’s voice just makes Lilly laugh harder. “You love him even more than I do.”

“I do,” he sighs, “Maybe we could FaceTime with him soon and he can soothe you directly.”

Lilly feels herself going magenta. Shawn doesn’t toss around his celebrity weight, or even work his friend connections very often, but when he does, he does it with purpose. Lilly attempts to stay cool. Ish.

“I would not say no to that,” she attempts lightly, but her face-splitting smile gives her away. Shawn grins knowingly and bobs his head.

“I’ll text him. Maybe I can talk to Taylor, too, get you your own personal Lover Fest.”

Lilly’s smile falters a little. Her gaze drifts to her plate. She shoves a forkful of potatoes in her mouth. Shawn notices a shift.

“What?” His mouth is full.

Lilly swallows and lifts a shoulder casually. “I just didn’t figure you were really in a place to be asking Taylor for favors anymore.”

The song changes to a track Lilly doesn’t know. The air seems to crackle. Shawn sits forward as Lilly sits back. She manages to lift her eyes from her crispy chicken skin.

“What do you mean?”

Regret fills Lilly’s gut faster than the food. She takes a long sip of wine.

“I mean after what happened last year.”

He didn’t really need her to clarify, she knows. She also knows he doesn’t require further detail.

He comes up on his elbows, his brow furrowing. “I can probably guess what you think happened, but it’s more complicated than that.”

Lilly exhales and drops her fork, crossing her arms. Shawn looks alarmed.

“I have no doubt you can guess what I think, because you know me pretty well. And you probably also know I think it’s bullshit.”

Shawn’s eyes harden. “Lilly, you don’t know everything. You weren’t there. I don’t owe you an explanation for this, you weren’t involved.”

Lilly’s lips tighten at the corners, the kiss of death. Shawn’s shoulders tighten further, pulling up toward his ears.

“Yeah, I’m sure you think you don’t. Maybe that’s exactly what’s wrong,” Lilly jabs.

Shawn looks baffled. “What the fuck are you talking about? You’re the one who’s always telling me I don’t owe everyone everything. But now suddenly I owe people every detail? It had nothing to do with me.”

“You thinking it had nothing to do with you is a huge fucking problem, Shawn! It is a privilege! No one has threatened everything you’ve built. Why would they? You’re a white man. And you sat down and shut up when she needed you.”

The muscle in Shawn’s jaw twitches. “You don’t know shit about what I did, you weren’t fucking there. Stop pretending like you know everything. It’s fucking complicated, okay? Jesus, Lilly.”

Lilly deflates and folds her hands, pressing her forehead into them. “Let’s not do this. Let’s just not fucking do this, this was supposed to be nice. Can we not? I don’t want to fight.”

She looks up at him, pleading.

Shawn doesn’t hesitate. “I want to fight.”

Lilly blinks. “What?”

He nods urgently. “I do. I want to fight. Let’s fight, let’s figure it out and get through it. Let’s fucking fight, Lill, because it’s so much better than being fucking silent.”

Lilly swallows. Her stomach lurches. Shawn does not waver.

“Fine. Tell me, then. Tell me what you did. You texted her?”

Shawn scoffs. “I didn’t just fucking text her, I called her. We talked for like an hour. And if she were here, she’d tell you that and she’d say we’re totally fine, we’re good. Because we are.”

Lilly pushes a hand into her hair and feels the tears in her eyes. “No you’re not. You’re not fine. You showed up and did the bare minimum, Shawn, you’re not fucking fine.”

His eyes get huge. “What the fuck, Lilly? You don’t even know her!”

“I don’t have to!” she cries, throwing her arms up, “I don’t have to know her personally to know how many texts and calls she got from guys like you who felt bad but wanted to stay out of the way, stay in their lane, stay out of trouble. When you look at the ratio of women who spoke up compared to men, it’s fucking sad, Shawn. And honestly, I did not expect you to land on the wrong side of that, I really didn’t. But that was just the start.”

He narrows his eyes. “The start of what?”

“You shut down. You just… shut down. You got the girl and then fucked off. You have to know that’s what it looked like to everyone.”

“I fucked off because literally everyone was telling me to. Lilly, I swear to god, if you saw the kind of stuff people were saying to me, about me, about her…”

Lilly feels a chill down her spine. She’s desperate to crawl away from this.

“Shawn--”

“Everyone hated me. Everyone hated us. What was I supposed to do?”

Lilly chews on her lip and mutters, “Maybe not post that gross make out video, for one thing.”

He inhales so sharply Lilly looks up at him. His nostrils are flared. Did he get taller in the last two minutes?

“It was a fucking joke, Jesus Christ.”

“Yeah, well, you were the only two who thought it was funny.”

Shawn takes a breath and scrubs his hands over his face, then back into his hair, holding it back as he stares down at his food.

“I know the video was stupid. It wasn’t supposed to make people so mad.”

Lilly shifts in her seat uncomfortably. She takes his olive branch and returns with one of her own.

“Listen, I’m not gonna sit here and defend your entire fandom. I know better. I know a lot of the shit you guys took was unfair. But the distance came from both sides, Shawn. You alienated them, they alienated you right back. It doesn’t matter who shot first. That distance is still there.”

Shawn doesn’t argue her point. He draws a crispy corner of Yorkshire pudding through his gravy and pops it in his mouth. “I really thought the Foundation would turn it around, but it only made it worse.”

Lilly winces. “But you get why, right?”

Shawn clicks his tongue. “No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“It’s hollow, Shawn. It didn’t feel like you. Your heart wasn’t in it. It was like someone put your name on it and said ‘okay, guys, tell us what you want this to be.’ I mean, what is it? What do you want it to be?”

Shawn looks hurt. Lilly wonders if she should’ve pulled back a little, then thinks about what he said earlier.

I want to fight.

Lilly realizes maybe she wants to fight too. If fighting means fighting for this, for them, Lilly will get her gloves on and go to work. She steels herself.

“The whole point was to give a voice to my fans, to be the way they can make a difference. Have them act through me. That’s what I liked about it!”

Lilly shuts her eyes. “But it wasn’t your idea.”

She knew that already without him having to say it. The circumstances made that clear.

“Andrew pitched it, but I approved it,” Shawn snaps.

“Then do something with it!” Lilly cries, “Show some ownership! Show everyone you care what it means, what it does. You’ve always been so good at that. It’s one of the reasons people love you so much. Why people were hurt when you disappeared. Suddenly you were either nowhere, or you were with her. People missed you. I fucking know I did.”

Shawn’s shoulders begin to sink. The tense feeling clenching around Lilly’s ribcage loosens. Shawn reaches a hand out, face up on the table. Lilly slips hers into his and watches his thumb rub her skin.

“I didn’t know you were still paying attention,” he whispers.

Lilly lets the past several months drift over her face. “I tried not to.”

What’s left of their food is cold. Mayer’s voice feels loud in the absence of their yelling. They gaze at each other, looking and feeling haunted. Shawn is first to break the silence.

“I don’t want it to be like this. I… I don’t think I want to tell everyone everything all the time, but I don’t want it like this either. I can’t be afraid to talk to my fans.”

Lilly nods. “There’s a middle ground. You can find it.”

Shawn studies the veins in the translucent skin of her wrist. “Will you help me?”

Lilly smirks. “When you want me to, sure. But you don’t need me for that, Shawn.”

He’s silent for a long time. Lilly watches the tears gather in his eyes as they soften.

“But I do need you. I fuckin’ need you, Lill, you know that right?”

Lilly nods eagerly. “I know.”

He doesn’t seem satisfied. “No, I mean, of course I need you, but I want you. I want you so bad, all the time, every day. In every way I can have you. You make everything in my life better. And I swear to god, if you let me, I’ll make sure I can do the same for you.”

Lilly squeezes his hand. Her heart swims up into her throat and pushes out the words she hasn’t said in almost a year. “I love you.”

Shawn illuminates from the inside out. His cheeks go a vivid pink. He squeezes her hand right back and pulls it up to his lips. “I love you too, Lilly.”

Lilly cups his cheek. Her smile is small and quiet, but it’s not fragile.

The song changes. The opening notes are so distinctive, they have Shawn and Lilly smiling knowingly in under three seconds.

“See?” Lilly squawks, “John just gets me.”

Shawn rolls his eyes and pushes his chair back, holding his hand out to her. “Whatever. John may ‘get you,’ but I have you. C’mere.”

Lilly gasps, eyes sparkling. She looks to his face, then his outstretched hand, then back at his face. She’s vibrating in her seat.

“No!”

“Yes!” Shawn laughs. Lilly springs out of her chair and takes his offer before he can reel it back in. He holds their clasped hands to his chest and grins as she takes her place between his bare feet. They bob along awkwardly beside the table, cast in powder blue dusk from the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Fucking finally, it’s like, why even bother putting John Mayer on if no one’s gonna ask you to dance?” Lilly crows, looking smug.

Shawn pecks the tip of her nose and pulls her closer. She rests her cheek on his chest.

“Now we see everything that’s going wrong

With the world and those who lead it

We just feel like we don’t have the means

To rise above and beat it…”

Shawn sings along and Lilly doesn’t even pretend like that wasn’t exactly what she wanted. She stares up at him, delighted by his total willingness to satisfy even the little whims she doesn’t say out loud. They don’t notice when the song changes. Lilly magnanimously decides not to step on Shawn’s foot when he says that her body, too, is a wonderland.

But she does prove it to him again later that night.

+

Epilogue

July 28th, 2020

Lilly squints up at the sky. It’s so blue that her retinas ache, but she finds what she needs.

“Look! Look, a cloud. Not safe to fly. You should stay. Come on, chop chop, bags down. You’re staying.”

Shawn drops his backpack into the trunk of the town car. His eyes are hidden behind mirrored aviators, but Lilly doesn’t need to see them to know his smile doesn’t quite reach them.

“I’m going to remind you again this was your idea,” he sighs.

Lilly scrunches her face up in protest but it doesn’t push away the tears building in her eyes like she hoped.

He’s right. It’s been almost a month since they had the first conversation about it. It wasn’t nearly as scary when it was hypothetical. It started with an innocent comment, Lilly joking about Shawn not having anything to write about if they’re together and happy all the time. 

“You need some angst. How are you ever gonna miss me enough to write about me if we’re standing on top of each other all day every day?”

Shawn brushed it off, but it took hold in both their minds. It was another full week before they had a real conversation about it. Lilly cried and Shawn stared in horror, then held her.

“We cannot become real again in a vacuum. I love you, I love this, but it’s not real life. I want you for real. I need this to be real,” Lilly pleaded.

Negotiations ran in circles for a while. Maybe they just needed a change of scenery, Shawn suggested. They could take a little safe vacation somewhere, rent a place in Malibu or Big Sur. Distance wasn’t the answer. It couldn’t be.

But distance is their reality when the world is not on fire. Lilly does not work in an industry that permits her to follow Shawn around on tour or promo. Even if she did, they agree that arrangement could get emotionally fraught pretty fast. Lilly argues they have to get good at the distance again, since that was one of the factors that broke them up to begin with. Shawn insists that if they’re lucky enough to be together and safe during this time of crisis, there’s no reason to give it up.

Back and forth, round and around and around again. There was no compromise to be made. They were either together or apart.

Shawn tearfully agrees one night. Lilly is immediately horrified.

“No. No, I’ve changed my mind. Don’t go. Shawn, don’t go. Don’t let me bully you into this. This is a terrible fucking plan. Why would you leave? Everything is good!” she sobs.

Shawn wipes his eyes and tucks her into his chest so she can cry without him staring at her.

“You were right, Lill. If we’re ever going to be more than this, we have to start. We have to get better at it.”

“But this is already so good! Shawn, if you leave now, we have no way of knowing when we’ll see each other again. Things are already getting worse. What if you can’t get back?”

Shawn’s jaw clenches. It’s the one thing they haven’t said out loud. This distance could be more permanent than they intend for it to be if the pandemic continues to worsen in the U.S. There’s a possibility that if he leaves now, they won’t see each other again in 2020.

“We’re gonna figure that out,” he insists, wiping his hard calloused thumbs beneath her eyes, “If I have to marry you to make you a Canadian citizen and get you the fuck out of here, I will.”

Lilly’s heart skips a beat even as her eyes narrow. “What a romantic you are.”

Shawn chuckles, but it’s a dull, wet sound through his own tears. He arranges his pre-flight COVID test and buys a ticket home to Toronto the next day.

Without Shawn, and with her roommates calming down and staying virus free, there’s no reason to stay in this big house by herself. They take down the recording tent and send the equipment back. They carefully pry Command hooks off the ceiling, erasing the evidence. They latch up the doors on the balcony for good. Lilly’s car is packed; she’ll head back to Burbank right after Shawn leaves.

The summer breeze ruffles his curls, which she cut again recently so he doesn’t look like a sad sheepdog when he goes home to his mum, after the allotted two weeks of quarantining at his place in Toronto. He reaches for her, and her throat immediately burns, like it was holding off until he touched her again.

“I have terrible ideas. Don’t ever listen to me again,” Lilly half sobs. Shawn folds himself around her. She clings to him, digging her fingernails into the seams of his denim shirt. She feels his shaky exhale and feels ten times worse.

“What did I do?” she hiccups, “Why did I do this?”

Shawn lays his cheek on top of her head and sniffs before he speaks. “Because you want us to be real. Because you know it’s going to be different this time.”

Lilly breathes out slowly. Shawn loosens his grip and shifts to take her face in his hands. His cheeks are patchy pink, his eyes are a little bloodshot. He presses kisses to her forehead, her cheeks, the tip of her nose, and her lips. They kiss until they’re dizzy.

Shawn lets go, maybe because he knows she won’t. He reaches for the door of the car to anchor himself.

“You know how much I love you, right?” Lilly rasps.

Shawn nods. “I know. You know how much I love you, right?”

Lilly’s face crumples. She can’t speak. She nods.

Shawn smiles. “Then we’re gonna be okay.”

Lilly covers her nose and mouth as he climbs into the back of the town car. She stands there until it’s beyond the gates of the driveway and out of sight.

Lilly turns and looks up at the house. It’s not the first time she’s considered the mysterious magic of the place. In its age and grandness, Lilly knows hers is not the only gift it’s given. Theirs are not the only secrets it holds. She’s resigned to never knowing the rest, content with taking what it offered and hoping they left it with some of their own magic, too, for whomever needs it next.

----------

Taglist: @smallerinfinities​ @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn​ @infiniteshawn​ @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway​ @alone-in-madness​ @abigfatmess​ @shawnitsmutual​ @awkwardfangirl2014​ @september-lace​ @sinplisticshawn​ @rollingxstone​ @randi-eve​ @fallmoreinlove @heyits-claire​ @itrocksmysocks​ @parkerspicedlatte​ @simpledomain​ @abeautiful-and-cloudy-day​ @thecurlsofgod​ @magcon7280​ @bensbuttercup​ @shawnsmusical​ @paigeasourous​ @tell-me-when-ur-ready​ @softmendesss​ @searchingunderthestars​ @buggy-blogs​ @mendesficsxbombay​ @siennarossi​ @lostinshawnsmemory​ @umbreakablesoul​ @sleepybesson​ @shawnsheaven @poseshawn​ @shaawnie @shawn-youth​ @graysonmendes​

[kalypsichor]

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part five

chapter summary: It’s time for some apologies (aPAULogies!). You and Paul have a chat about student debt, Parliament, and showers. John tries to convince everyone that he won’t break the telly (again), Ringo tries to convince everyone that he’s NOT an old man, and you just wish George would drop that goddamn towel. 

warnings: george is almost naked but not naked enough (sigh)

masterlist and parts one | two | three | four

these chapters are just getting longer, huh. also, queen makes a more... definitive appearance.

Paul’s chosen the corner booth. It’s the spot that you all usually cram into, obnoxious and loud and always on the verge of being kicked out. Sitting there all by himself with nothing but a cup of coffee, he looks very small and lonely and you feel a pang of guilt.

He glances up when you sit down next to him. “Back for round two?” Paul says, and despite this he still scoots over to give you more room.

“No.” Sighing, you resist your fight-or-flight instinct. You’ve always hated confrontation. “I just wanted to apologize. I probably overreacted today and I shouldn’t have, um… ”

“Ripped me a new one?”

You laugh. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I’ve just been so stressed about midterms and all that--which isn’t an excuse for being an asshole, I know. It’s been such a long day, with Ringo having to go to the hospital and John almost killing us in your car and George, uh… actually, George hasn’t done anything. But… forgive me?” You try your best puppy eyes, although that’s more of Paul’s forte.

He pretends to think about it, but he’s already got that smile on his face. It’s soft and accentuates the roundness of his cheeks and you can see what John fell in love with.

“Of course I do. I could never stay angry at you for too long.” You let out a sigh that you didn’t know you were holding. “And I’m sorry, as well. I hope some of your papers were salvageable? I’ll pay for your textbooks, really--”

“With the thousands of pounds of student debt you’ve got? No way.” You nudge Paul teasingly. “No, it wasn’t that bad. Besides, if I don’t have most of that stuff memorized by now I’ll be fucked for midterms.”

“It’s the damn Tories, I tell you!” A businessman at the table over shoots him a dirty look and you have to muffle your snort behind your hands. “Anyway, we’re not here to talk politics. How’s George?” At the last bit, Paul leans in, raising his eyebrows conspiratorially.

Just great, still want to snog him senseless. Nothing new. “Why don’t you ask George yourself, you live with him. He’s still pretty pissed about having to take cold showers in the morning.”

“Please, no more. I’ve gotten yelled at about it enough already.” He throws his hands up in mock surrender and you’re reminded uncannily of John. They really are two sides of the same coin… “Morning’s the only time I can shower, anyway. It’s not fun waking up early, you know, but I do have to get the studio time. I’ve got, like, a million art pieces to turn in next week. It’s killing me.”

Though he says this with a rueful grin, you can see there’s bags under his eyes. With all the drama going on, you hadn’t stopped to think about what Paul must be going through. You internally scold yourself not to be so wrapped in your own concerns next time.

“I didn’t realize.”

“Yeah, well. The woes of an art major. But when I asked about George, I wasn’t talking about our little row.”

You ignore that. “Showering every day is bad for your skin, y’know.”

“First off, that’s my phrase. Secondly, you’re changing the subject.”

“You’re the one changing the subject!” Don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush. “Look, can’t you try and compromise with him? Like, taking turns or something. You can have the first shower every other day and ditto for George!” You smack the table excitedly. “Damn, I’m a genius.”

Paul laughs and downs the rest of his coffee. “Alright, alright. I’ll talk to him about it.” Standing, he stretches and tosses the cup into the trash. “You think the flat is safe enough to go back?”

You mirror his actions, donning your fleece jacket. “Probably. I’ll protect you, though, don’t worry.”

“My hero!” He swoons and loops his arm through yours as you step out of the cafe. The rest of the walk back, he doesn’t mention George again and you think he’s forgotten all about it. That is, until you reach the apartment. Paul unlocks the door and gestures for you to go first. When you brush by him, he leans down to your ear and says it so casually you don’t even register the meaning at first.

“I’ll get the truth out of you one of these days, y’know.”

Paul winks and though he doesn’t say exactly what the ‘truth’ is, you think you have a pretty good idea what he’s talking about.

***

The next day, you’re sat at the kitchen table over a bowl of cereal and some salvaged papers, not unlike yesterday morning. John is once again swiping through his phone. Ringo’s there, too, having scrutinized the entire kitchen floor this time before sitting down.

“TikTok is a load of shit,” John announces, throwing his cell down.

“Yet that doesn’t stop you from being on it for hours on end.”

“It’s addicting! All that… hitting the woah and- and grenade stuff.”

“You mean renegade.”

You both shoot a surprised look at Ringo, who pouts. “What? I can be hip too.”

“Okay, the fact that you said ‘hip’ kinda contradicts that.”

Ringo sticks his tongue out at you and you snicker. John clears his throat, steering the conversation back to him. Attention whore.

“Aaaanyway. As I was saying. Our phones are all the government’s rubbish way of brainwashing us. And that’s why I propose… drum roll, please.”

Ringo obliges. You note that he keeps a rather good tempo.

“Game Night Part Two!”

He’s met with silence.

“Uh, let me think about it-- no.”

“What? Why not!”

You tap your finger to your chin. “Did you already forget getting piss-drunk and missing your American Lit quiz the next day? Or spilling Fanta all over my /nice/ white tee? Or doing that?” John’s gaze follows your gesture to the tv in the living room with a great crack down the middle.

“And you’re a sore loser,” Ringo adds. John frowns and throws a cornflake at him.

“George was definitely cheating-”

“Abupbupbup! I’m not done.” You point at his sour expression. “Don’t you remember the noise complaint we got from our neighbor?”

John actually pauses at this. “You mean Paul’s classmate? The one that does graphic design? Not that you’d know it from the way he dresses like a fashion major.”

“His name is Freddie.” Ringo supplies helpfully. Ringo was always good at names.

“Yeah, he actually knocked on our door and everything. That was embarrassing, John.”

A scoff makes its way through John’s pursed lips. “He’s got no right telling us to keep the noise down when his bloody flat houses an entire fucking band. I can hear them going at it until two am sometimes and I don’t call the police on them.”

“They’re quite good.” As if to accentuate his point, Ringo taps a familiar rhythm with his spoon. Must be from one of their latest songs.

John inhales and you can tell that this’ll turn into a scuffle if you don’t steer the conversation away soon.

“Anyway! We don’t want another repeat of last month’s shenanigans. I’d like to be able to keep watching Netflix on a functioning telly, thank you very much. You’re outnumbered, Johnny.”

“Well, actually.”

You both swivel to look at Ringo: you in horror and John with glee. The oldest boy is usually the tie breaker, the swing-state if you want to be American about it. If he throws his weight behind John, it’ll be over.

“I think it would be a good idea. For morale, you know. We’ve been at each other’s throats all of yesterday, and havin’ another Game Night might get everyone on good terms again.” Damn you, Ringo, you think, damn you and your altruism. John, in every sense of the saying, looks exactly like the cat that’s got the canary. He swings to you with the stupidly smug look on his face.

“The match goes to Lennon! Take that,” he gloats, and you fight the urge to strangle him across the table.

“When you fail Professor Ono’s midterms because you’re too hungover to tell Walt Whitman from Langston Hughes, don’t go crawling to me,” you hiss.

John makes to retort but he’s cut short by the sound of footsteps running down the hall. Your brain barely has time to conjure up the weird feeling of deja vu before George skids into the kitchen.

He’s wearing nothing but a towel. Again. But this time, he’s smiling, and the brilliance of it cuts through your sleep-addled brain and curls up somewhere below your rib cage.

“I just took a shower!”

“Good for you, mate,” John snarks, staring ruefully at the phone in the center of the table--did he change his phone case or something? It looks different, somehow. You can see his fingers twitching toward it.

George ignores him. “I just took a warm shower. A real shower with warm water.”

Yes, you can see that from the bit of steam still rising from his shoulders and his hair, which is now curling slightly in the colder temperature. There’s a droplet of water making its way from George’s very naked chest down to his very fit stomach--how he has abs, you have no idea, since the boy inhales food like Kirby--and you look away sharply before your gaze can wander any further.

“A warm water shower,” he repeats.

Ringo nods. “Ah, yes. The poison. The poison for Kuzco. The poison chosen specifically to kill Kuzco.” He pauses, looking you in the eye rather seriously, and you say the next bit together.

“Kuzco’s poison.”

The two of you double over, giggling like schoolgirls. George, however, looks confused.

“What are they on about?”

“Some American film.” John finally gives in and snatches up the phone laying on the table. Something flashes across his face. You know that look, and nothing good ever follows it. “Smile, Georgie.”

There’s the click of a photo being taken.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Nothing.” John pushes his chair from the table and stands up rather abruptly. The look on his face is growing into something… wicked. “Nothing at all. I will be in Paul and I’s room. Doing nothing.” He surveys you all once more with that good-for-nothing grin, cradles the phone to his chest, and then sprints down the hall past an even more confused George. The door closes and locks with a decisive click.

The three of you look at each other questioningly. Ringo grunts something unintelligible and shovels more cornflakes into his mouth. George shrugs and turns to head back to the bathroom.

He’s already halfway down the hall before he freezes.

“Wait a minute. Was that my phone?”

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

Making music with bebop gyroids

Musical gyroids galore! Kelly, Ned, Gutsy, Livvy, and Lulu are here with us to enjoy the sunny weather and make some fun musical instruments. The gyroids were designed by Daisy Jane and Kelly with some input from Ned and Goldie - and they look (and sound) so awesome!

It's been so bright and sunny these past couple of days, it feels kinda unusual. Looks like the sunshine's come out early this year! No shorts yet, but we've pulled out the sunglasses, where I finally get to use my new shades Daisy Jane got for me. Pretty and functional is how I like it - though I'm pretty sure that Daisy Jane spent quite a bit on these sunglasses - not that I'm complaining as they're really good at what they're supposed to do. I feel so cool and badass wearing them!

With Livvy home for spring break, she and Gutsy figured, what better place to spend a short vacation than at a camp? Gutsy always wanted to drop by to visit us since we came to Charm Villa to see her a while back. And of course, she had to bring little Lulu along to explore the great outdoors with her. Good thing they chose to come during a campsite event! What better way to be introduced to the camp than a gyroid adventure?

Since the Coloratura Jazz Band Festival last year Kelly and Daisy Jane began working on gyroid designs inspired by the festival. Kelly really has a way with instrument designs, coming up with interesting ideas like an electric cello in the shape of a treble clef or a harpsichord that looks like one of those cool antique desks. That's why gyroid events are so much fun - you can craft so many creative things with them!

Joining Kelly is her best friend Ned, her partner in crime. They've been friends since high school, often attracting trouble although things end up working out in the end. Coincidentally, Kelly's mom is a private investigator and a few years back she worked with Gutsy on a case involving a farm at Cedar Pickett. Kelly and Ned got involved and wound up riding horses along the infamously dangerous canyon trail to catch a criminal. They all remembered each other after all these years as it was an interesting case. It's fascinating how small the world can be sometimes!

Ned, according to Kelly, is a world class baker when it comes to pies. She wasn't exaggerating. He and his dads run a bakery/nightclub called Dub Step Pie Club. Despite the name, it actually looks like a pretty cool place. I should drop by there the next time I visit the island.

At first glance, Kelly and Ned seem like an unlikely duo. In a way, they kinda remind me of Daisy Jane and Almie - the bubbly outgoing one paired with the introverted quiet one. Kelly's the one dragging Ned into her schemes, usually involving her mom's cases. Ned has an unusual connection with the dead, so every once in a while he and Kelly end up with a murder mystery or a ghost with unfinished business. They have a fun dynamic, those two.

In between gyroid hunting sessions, we hung out at the main campsite and did a little baking. Ned taught us how to make pumpkin brownie pecan pie, a specialty at the Dub Step Pie Club. That, along with the cubeyberry pie he brought from home, were some of the best pies I've ever had! Tomorrow we're gonna make peach lolliberry pie, another favorite at the club.

Lulu's so cute when it comes to finding gyroids! Seeing her get excited and waddling around while carrying a gyroid - which looks huge in her little arms - my heart just can't take it! She's also become quite a chatterbox - I love hearing her point out things at the camp and getting excited about everything. Lulu's definitely the type of kid who's not afraid to take a tumble and get her hands dirty. It's so cool to see more of her personality come out, especially now that she's talking. If Lulu keeps this up, I'm pretty sure Kelly's gonna straight up die of cuteness before the end of this event.

Livvy has been enjoying the great outdoors, especially after a stressful couple of weeks at school. She's a business major with a minor in humanities - the latter which kinda happened and she decided to go along with it because, why not? It's more work, but she's not complaining too much because she enjoys the classes. Since going off to college, Livvy started a study/productivity vlog called coffeelivvy, where she posts about study tips as well aesthetic and practical notes. I enjoy watching her videos while journaling, especially her plan with me bullet journal videos.

Gutsy's been busy with Lulu and the cafe. She's into making bread these days so later this week we're gonna make baguettes, which sounds fun! I'll admit, the process of making bread - as in with yeast and proofing and such - sounds kinda intimidating, but with a pro like Gutsy, the process seems less daunting. Since working at the cafe, Gutsy found out that she has a knack for baking as well as making latte art. So along with some decadent pies, we also got to enjoy lattes with the pretty milk foam designs - a winning combo that's perfect for a camping event!

Kelly's on spring break too, a well deserved vacation after a busy semester. She reminds me of Alex and Claire, being the kind of person who does a lot of extracurriculars and manages to be on top of everything academically. Along with being in the Coloratura Jazz Band, Kelly's also a volunteer of the Asian Pride Film Festival, a video editor for Leicester Academy Theater, an RA, and captain of the badminton team. She also plans to take summer classes and go to Amsterdam for the the fall term, graduating in the winter.

Ned, of course, is managing the bakery of Dub Step Pie Club while juggling classes at Seashore Path. After taking a year off due to burnout, he returned for the spring semester, changing his major from English to business marketing. So far Ned finds his second go of college much less stressful than when he first enrolled, which is great to hear. I hope things turn out better for him this time around.

While collecting gyroids at Lost Lure Creek, we ended up taking a detour through the acorn trail. It's one of many places I haven't got to exploring yet so it was the perfect opportunity to finally check it out. Kelly took a bunch of pics of the trees with its warm autumnal colors. This area of the woods looks like it's fall all year round and it looks so pretty! And of course, the trees are full of cute little acorns that we had to take back to the camp.

Later on, while crafting gyroid furniture, we painted the acorns. It's been a long while since I've painted so naturally I was a little rusty at first. The idea for a painting session came about when Kelly mentioned that she and a friend led a Bob Ross style painting event at their dorm building that everyone enjoyed. Peaches and Lolly just bought some new paints so it was the perfect opportunity to try them out. I think my favorite is the acrylic gouache - something about painting with them is so satisfying to me.

Then we hung out at the beach, collecting shells, sea glass, and gyroids. Although it's bright and sunny out, it's not warm enough to go swimming yet. It was nice sitting out there under the warm sun, just hanging out with friends. We also did some fishing, catching some tuna that we later made into poke bowls for dinner. And for dessert, we had cubeyberry pie paired with a bottle of peach wine, courtesy of Gulliver.

Before heading back to the main camp, we dropped by the hangout sites to collect more gyroids before calling it a day. Lulu enjoyed helping out campers by bringing them fruit. I love seeing her chatter away to the campers and talking about fruit. Gutsy says that Lulu isn't afraid of strangers, which we clearly saw as she approached everyone she met. She's a little handful, keeping Gutsy and Livvy on their toes! I swear, you blink for less than a second and next thing you know, Lulu's run clear across the camp and trying to climb a tree or get into the water.

At some point, we got into an impromptu musical session starting with Kelly on the drums. Then Ned joined in with maracas, Livvy and Friga on guitar, Benedict on double bass, Soleil on keyboards, me on the toy piano, and Gutsy and Daisy Jane on percussion. Lulu was so cute dancing along to the music! I think we made a pretty good band - it sure helped passed the time while waiting for the gyroid stuff to be built!

Today we crafted the harpsichord, a galaxy themed dulcimer/synth, and a star shaped hybrid of a ukulele and violin. Like I said earlier, the designs of these instruments are amazing! Plus, they sound fantastic! We had so much fun making music - I can't wait to build more stuff and create even more music!

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

Oooh boy, i remember announcing this prompt awhile ago and just had everyone immediately worried about it, only to not even write it right away. Dang that was a while ago. It's almost been a month jesus O-O.

I decided to post this without the ask attached so the whole story won’t be spoiled. But oh man did I have to rewrite this so many times, the concept was really interesting to the point it ended up being something completely different to the anonymous ask. But that’s writing for you. It’s also probably the longest fic I’ve written so far.

It kinda didn't feel like it had the "angsty" effect I wanted it to have when writing this, it's one of the reasons why it took so long to get this finished. I don't know, what do you guys think?

This is pretty much this is a What-if? fic that revolves around Robotnik when he manages to come back to earth.

Warnings: there's some mild swearing in this fic.

I'm a Survivor.

“My sanity still.....remains completely absol-....Oh would you just shut up over there!” Ivo laid on the top of a mushroom as held up his hand and clutched his fingers with the other.

“Oh Terry, could you please shut that brat up?” He turned his head over to a medium sized mushroom, next to it a smaller mushroom.

He raised his arms up in annoyance. “I don’t care that brat has a ear infection! He’s been crying for almost two hours now and it’s getting on my nerves!”

He let his arms drop at his side as he closed his eyes, the heat of the sun burning forehead and causing sweat to drip down his face.

For the past couple of weeks, the mad scientist had been wandering around aimlessly through the fungal jungle in search of resources for supplies and hopefully for a way back home.

He lifted his wrist to look at his daily log. “It’s now been 86 god forsaken days since that blue rat sent me to me to this place of the mushiest of rooms.” He moved on his side, propping his head on his hand. “But luckily, you’re the only one that’s keeping me sane agent Stone.”

Turning his head, he smiled fondly at the oddly craved stone lying right beside his head. “You know what it’s like here, no humans, no animals, no garbage trucks that purposely wake you up early in the morning to ‘get the garbage cans’ when they can easily do that in the morning!”

He sighed as he sat up, picked up the stone and held it out in front of him. “One day We’ll come back to that beautiful blue planet of ours and make all of them pay, those fools that mocked me, the entire military that found my inventions to be highly dangerous and tried to hide me away.”

He adjusts his hold on the stone as he rises up to stand, raising his fist in the air. “Oh but I will show them, I will make them pay and show to everyone what happens when you banish the most dangerous mastermind in the entire cosmos!”

He snapped his head at a nearby orange mushroom and gasped dramatically. "I am not being overdramatic Jerome! They obviously know what I'm capable of!"

He pauses as he continues staring at the non verbal fungus, letting out a growl as he made his way closer to it. "Oh you’re one to talk! I can see why Karen left you for Javier! You're always being so obnoxious!"

He glares at ‘Jerome’ for a few more seconds before letting out a huge yell, grabbing the stalk and ripping it out of the ground.

“MY WEIGHT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH YOUR REAL ESTATE! THAT WAS YOUR MISTAKE!”

He threw the mushroom and watched as it bounced against the surrounding fungi, disappearing from sight as it fell deeper into the jungle below.

Panting heavily, he turned and pick up agent Stone and cradled it close to his head. “See what I mean? This is what happens when people don’t use the full integrity of their brains? They end up like Jerome, falling into a endless pit of dispair and failures.

“I hope I did you proud Karen.” he murmurs as he walks stiffly by the two mushrooms, avoiding eye contact.

He looked down at his makeshift pack of ship debris, sitting on top was a broken clear tube, containing a thick, giant blue quill inside it.

He stared intently at the pile as his brain worked through his thoughts. He slowly grasp the tube and stares at its faint glow, still beating with the pure energy.

He smiles a crooked grin as he faces the sun setting on the horizon. "And I can't to finally spread what we have discovered to the world."

=======

Date log: 4@# days since banishment.

Sparks and sounds of zapping echoes throughout the vacant area as Robotnik put the finishing touches on his makeshift portal. He cleared his throat, hoarse from the dryness of the air as he sat back on his knees underneath his smelly, makeshift hut.

"Calibration is at 69.9 percent, dimensional vortex is stabilizing and water rations have officially run out." He drinks the last mouthful of water as he tosses the container away and continues to work on the machine.

"This is the day my young tablet friend, today is the day the world will scream my name with horror and praise! He looks over to the corner of the hut where "agent Stone" is, who was placed on cushion made of mushroom tops.

"Behold, to what is to be one of my greatest creation, a portal to another world." He backs up in awe as he looks at at the machine.

"I'll admit it's smaller than I would've like it be." The machine in question was a small circle shaped design and was only less than two meters in height and size, with the quill as the main power source, still flickering on the ground near it. "It's going to be a tight fit, but it's better than nothing."

He pauses and looks over to agent Stone, walking over slowly and picking it up. "There's one mishap in our success, Stone." He shifts the rock to the crook of his arm. "The portal only has enough energy to transfer only one form of solid mass to our destination....and it's a one way trip."

Even though he managed to get it operational, he soon found out that the power wasn't enough for it to be fully functional for travel hopping. "Unfortunately one of us is going to stay behind."

He glances down at the stone solemnly. "I know this is a tough decision, for the both of us. We've been through alot for these past...." he quickly checks his data log on his wrist. "Five hundred and......something days, now we have to part ways and tell our stories to those who will wonder what we were before this tragedy."

He dramatically puts his hand to his head, closes his eyes and sighs. A moment of silence passes before he peeks a eye at the stone in his arm and tilts his head.

"I literally just poured my heart and soul out to you in a matter of pure respect and the only thing you say in reply is how I managed to survive this whole ordeal with proper food or nutrients?"

"You're making it real hard for me to feel sorry for leaving you behind." His face then morphs into a look of anger. "What makes you think anyone will listen to you? No one here can actually hear you except for me!"

His arms start trembling as he shakes the stone back and forth. "You already know I had to burn my shoes each night for us to keep warm, eat parts of my flight suit, the fact that I need to look at these unshaven legs already disgusts me! Do you really like to mock my distress? You know what happens when you mock me!!!" He starts to squeeze his hands against the rock before droppping the stone completely on the ground, backing up and stares at his hands in shock. "I...*pant* I didn't want to do this, but I have no other choice."

He makes his way towards scraps of unused parts. Getting down on his knees, he starts to spark to wires together and holds them near a small patch of grass.

"No one can figure out what has happened here, it's too risky." He waved a hand over the small flame that ignited and added more grass to it. "I hope-...i know you will understand."

Flames start to climb from the grass to the fungal walls as smoke begins to fill the small space. He coughs as he turns on the machine and waits in anticipation as it hums to life and the blue vortex appears in front of him.

"I'll admit that was nice, having you around all this time. Helping making sure I always kept focus, words of encouragement and your killer chilli stew on Tuesdays." He laughs as the scent of the smoke makes his throat burn. He gets down in his stomach and backs his feet in first towards the opening, he turns his head towards Stone, still laying sideways on the ground.

"Make sure you keep listening to that rock-connaissance, Jerome is still out there looking for me and you'll need it when he comes back." He looks the stone one last time, crawling his whole body through into the vortex, with his hand reaching out to snatch the quill before he disappeared completely.

=======

The first thing he saw was brightness, due to the natural, obscure lighting of the mushroom planet, his eyes weren't adjusted to Earth's natural light. He felt his arms dangle above his head as he rapidly blinks his eyes and warps his head around. Even at the odd upside down angle, he managed to get his body through little by little.

Wiggling his body around, he eventually fell face first onto the ground as his legs plopped down after him. Letting out a pained groan, he rolled onto his back as he saw to vortex slowly close with a few vapors of smoke spilling out if it before closing completely. A loud, sharp bang echoes as it disappears, shaking the windows and triggering car alarms on street, causing a few of the people to cower and run from the scene.

Despite the brightness of the sun, all he felt was coldness on the side of his body, he could feel the roughness of it's texture, rocks? No, pavement. He groaned as he pulls himself up in a sitting position and looks around. He could see that he was in a open section between two buildings, trash cans and dumpsters took up the space and sidewalk near the leading towards an open road in front of him. An alleyway. He looks past the alley and sees large machines with wheels driving from the left of right. Cars

"Yes...YES!!! HAHAHA!!! IVO ROBOTNIK IS BACK TO RULE THE WORLD BABY!!! He danced around and spun in circles as he caught the attention of a few people walking past the opening, either walking away or stopping to film the crazed man.

He put his arm against the wall to regain his balance as he caught his breath. He checked his wristband and honed in on his current location, after a few painstaking seconds, he saw the text of where the portal had taken him.

Green Hills, Montana.

He felt his grin widen as he chuckled. "So we're back to the place of origin of the battlefield?" For months he always dreamed of getting revenge on those who dealt with him, memorizing their names and faces so he absolutely knew who to make suffer.

Tom....

Maddie....

Wade.....whiplash?

....Sonic......

"That hedgehog....if he's still here..." Walking slowly, he near the end of the alley, still ignoring the few random people filming him. "The energy from the portal gave off is likely to alert someone from the government or even the national guard. Once they come, it's a huge possibility that they could have me arrested due to all that collateral damage I managed to do in San Francisco....eh I'll just blame it on the govenor."

"Officer! Officer! He's right over here!" His head snapped towards the end of the road as he hears a woman yell and point in his direction, alerting two sheriff officers. “Ó, gāisǐ de” He quickly books it down the sidewalk and onto the clearing of the street. He ignores the pain of rocks and debris on his bare feet as he pushes past pedestrians walking on the side walk.

As he ran, he looks back to see how many are following him, causing him to bump into a small figure and crashed to the ground. A high pitched voice cried out in pain as he got back and swipe a quick glance at the person, he only caught a glismp of their abnormally pink hair as he continued to run.

One of the officers, who was tailing behind the others stopped and checked on the person on the ground, a small rabbit girl near her was helping her stand up. "Hey, you alright Amy?" She rubbed her head as she looks up at the officer. "Yeah, I'm alright Wade. Who the heck was the maniac?"

"I have a feeling I know who it could be. It's best if you go and take cover at the veterinary, this guy isn't a normal case we usually deal with." She nodded as she took the young girl's hand and ran the opposite direction as Wade continued after the others.

=======

"Hey you! Stop!" He kept pushing forward as he cut through the crowd, ignoring the weak, tired feeling in his legs. He changed tactics by running into traffic, nearly getting clipped by passing cars on both sides.

He banked left and ran into a parking lot, serpentining through the parked vehicles. 'My lab should be still around the area hidden in the woods, if I can get there...' The voices of the officer tailing behind him interrupted his thoughts, followed by sounds of sirens wailing in the distance.

'Oh great! Just what I need right now.' He continued to jog through the area until he got to a clearing leading a abandoned warehouse, a ravine flowing with water that leaded into the wooded area right behind the building.

He ducked through the entrance and climbed on top fallen pillars and broken machinery. Putting his hands on his knees, he panted heavy as he stood in the middle of the building.

He could hear the officers voices and their radios through the thin walls. "Geez this guy's fast! Someone radio in officer Wachowski! Tell him we need backup!"

He ran up one of the nearly broken steps to one of the main floors, peeking out the windows as more squad cars showed up. "Wachowski huh? Seems like he's still in charge of this sorry excuse for a police squad."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the blue quill, gleaming with malice. “Well, he’ll be in for quite a shocker once he sees me again.” With that, he took off his wristband and started gathering metal scraps that littered the floor before running into the darkness of the stairwell.

=======

Choppers started to hover in the overcast sky around the area as news anchors arrived on the scene and police put up barricades to hold back curious citizens from getting to close while Wade was going over instructions to one of the deputies in the parking lot.

"Marlo, do we have the whole perimeter contained?"

"Yes sir, we have squadrons of three placed at each corner of the building in case he tries to run again."

"Good, any word from officer Wachowski?”

“We’ve been trying to radio him in, he hasn’t responded yet.”

“Well he’d better get to it, because knowing how this man is from experience, he won't stop at nothing."

"What do you mean from experience sir?"

"I took literal a shot at him the first time he came here, I missed but it was a pretty close shot."

"Officer Whipple!" Wade turned his head towards a young voice, looking to see a small, yellow figure running at him.

"Miles? What are you doing here?" A young yellow fox skidded to a stop in front of him, his double tails faltering behind him and pushed his goggles off his eyes as he caught his breath.

"You shouldn't be in this area right now, We just picked up that-"

"I know *pant* I was the one that *pant* sent that analysis in."

"You what? How’d you- Wait a second, all the schools are on lockdown, how'd you even get out?"

"Don't worry about that. I didn't set anything on fire this time."

He crossed his arms. "Do your folks know that you're out here?"

"Ehm, no. I just wanted to see if the analysis was accurate.....is it really him?"

He looked at the kit with a grim expression. "I'm afraid so kid." He saw the child's shoulders tense and fur ruffle on his back as he backed away and went on his handheld.

Before he could console him, another officer called him over from a nearby patrol car. "Hey! Make sure you stay behind the barriers ok?" He sees Tails nod in response as he leaves.

After looking to see that Wade wasn't watching him, he quickly ducked behind a vacant patrol car. Putting in a ear piece, he dialed the contact on his Miles Electric. After two rings, a low voice finally answers.

*Hi Tails. If you’re calling me about the reason why your show wasn't recorded from last night, it was Tom, he didn't want you to be upset about it since he knew it was the season finale and-*

"I'm calling you cause i-Hold on, it was Tom that did that?"

*Yeah...sorry bud. He didn't want to ruin your day.*

"Ok no, that's not why I'm calling. Haven't you heard what's been happening? I thought they were calling you into the field?"

*Yeah they still are, I'm in North Dakota right now.*

"Why the heck are you over there?

*Hey, it's my lunch break and I decided to see a different setting today. Oh I wanted to tell you, they're having this career expo over here during this weekend that I think you'd like to go to since you wanted to-*

"Ok Sonic, I'm gonna stop you right there. You’re not going to believe what I just found out. I-"

*I'm guessing you're calling me about that strange anomaly your scanner picked up earlier?*

"Yes, actually and i don't know why you sound so calm about something like this."

*Probably because everytime we do get something similar to it, it's just another person from our species from our home planet seeking sanctuary so they can live here safely. So I apologize if I'm getting somewhat numb to this.*

Tails huffed at the lazy tone in his voice. “Sonic I'm being serious! This isn't like the time I came here, or even when Knuckles or Amy came here. This is something stronger, like it came from a farther distance."

*I mean I don't think there's any other people that come from another planet that could travel here, not without rings that is.*

"That's the thing, they didn't have the same energy structure like the warp rings. The type of energy they used....are the same ones that your quills give off when you power up."

Tails could swear he heard a sharp intake of breath as he waited for a response. *....What do you mean.....that it matches my energy?*

He lets out a heavy sigh before speaking. "Sonic....he's back."

The silence followed was so deafening, he could hear his own heart pounding in his ears, not even the sounds of the radios or sound of the choppers whirling in the distance could break it. "Sonic, are you still-?"

*I'll be right there.* With a rushed voice, he hung up the call. Tails stared at the picture of call ended as he let out a breath. “Oh man.”

About 20 seconds later, he could see a thin trail of blue closing in and braced himself as a figure appeared near him before he could blink.

The hedgehog’s fur had a more scruffy, wind blown look around his head and torso, sports tape that was wrapped around his forearms, had on a black t-shirt with a gun holster vest, which was empty for a simply more stylish look, and brown belt around his waist that held a pouch and a visible walkie talkie.

His gloves had a black outline, with white coloring around his fingers and palms, black knee pads and wore puma running sneakers, still keeping the red and white color scheme. A single gold ring hung on a chain around his neck, moving side to side as he approached the fox.

Tails stood still as he watched his brother walk toward him, his face neutral and his movements calm. Sonic gave a slight smile as he came over, wrapping Tails in a loose one armed hug. “Hey man.”

He awkwardly pats his back in return. “Hi, did you change clothes on your way here?”

“Yeah.” His voice sounded monotone, as if he was keeping his emotions in check. “Have you heard anything from Tom?”

“Oh, I overheard Wade say that he’s on the other side of town helping with a house robbery report, I don’t know when he’ll be here.”

“Hmm-mmm.” He kept his back turned to him as he continued to stare towards the building. “What about Knux or Ames?”

“I was talking to Amy on my way here, she’s with Cream at Maddie's job and I think Knuckles is with Tom right now.”

“Ok.” Walking closer to him, he could see Sonic’s jaw tightening, a slight scowl on his face as he crossed his arms. ‘I’ve barely seen him like this, each time he acts like this, he seems like a different person.’

“S-Sonic?” He mentally cursed himself as his voice came out in a timid whimper.

“Yeah, what’s up?” He turned his head, his eyes soften, his intense presence almost gone in a instant.

“Um....Do you want any he-.”

“No.” He interrupts him with a sharp voice before clearing his voice and speaking again. “I know you want to back me up in there, but I can’t let you do that. Not for this one.”

“But...Why not for this one? What if he tries something that catches you off guard?”

“He won’t catch me off guard. I fought him before and I managed to get rid of hi-.”

“You don’t know that! I can at least back you up in there so you won't be alone." He could feel his heart race as his voice rose in pitch.

"Tails-."

"No! I'm not letting you go in there alone!" He yells right at him, his voice cracking slightly. Sonic flinches at the unexpected tone before taking the fox by the shoulders and leading him away to a more quiet spot, all the while avoiding the confused glances of the other officers.

"Ok, just take a breath." The cub obliged as Sonic kept a hand on his shoulder. "What's going on?"

"I...just think that it’s a bad idea for you to go in there alone."

"Tails listen to me, this guy is a serious deal. He almost managed to kill me when he first found out about me, he was the first ever person to keep up with me at my speed and he threatened the lives of Tom, Maddie and everyone in this town if I didn't go with him. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't be here right now."

"I don't want to lose you too, not to someone like him, not again.” His voice became quiet and closed his eyes, as if to hold back tears. Even without an full explanation, Sonic knew exactly what he was referring to.

The young kit had come to this world, looking for him in particular to help save their homeworld. Their efforts weren't enough as the enemy was much stronger than they anticipated and eventually lost the battle, including the planet, with pockets full of mobians coming into the town of Green Hills bit by bit in search of sanctuary.

During all of this, Tails ended up losing his parents in the chaos, turned into metallic slaves among the hordes of lost citizens who suffered the same fate.

Crouching down, he clasped his small hands in his as he spoke softly. “I know you're worried about this, trust me I am too." He gently lifts his head up so he could make full eye contact. "But after what happened here, after what happened to Mobius....I want to make sure I don't make that same mistake again, I don't want you to go through that again."

Tails held his gaze for a few seconds before nodding and wiping his eyes. "O-ok, I g-got it." Soni pulled him into a tight embrace, feeling relieved that he felt him return the hug.

His eyes lit up as a idea popped into his head, he patted Tails back as they pulled away. "Hey, does your Miles Electric still have that 25 foot signal radius?"

"Um yeah it still does, why?"

"I know how you can help me."

=======

*Can you hear me all right?*

“Loud and clear buddy, just waiting for the all clear from Wade."

*Copy that.* Tails watched from his spot on the roof of one of the surrounding houses, typing in data on his electric as Sonic neared the cleared entrance. ‘I’m not sure what I should be even feeling right now. I don’t feel scared but-.’ He gripped and ungripped his hands as he tapped his foot. He closed his eyes and breathed in and out. “It’s going to be fine.” His eyes snapped open as he heard his walkie go off on his belt.

*You're all clear officer Wachowski, we'll send in two squads after you go in. good luck in there.*

"10-4." He turned the walkie off and trudged into the warehouse. Stepping lightly, he glanced around at pillars and empty rooms, listening for any sound he could pick up.

He jumped slightly as a tiny voice activated in his ear. *Is everything going ok in there?*

He sighed annoyingly. “Yes, so far nothing's in view. Just make sure you watch for anything I can’t see, I need my full ears on this one."

*Oh ok, sorry.*

He cracked his neck and quickly stretched his arms and legs before zipping up to a visible steel bar. Thunder rumbled in the distance as he looked around at the endless rooms of scrap metal. 'Geez intense mood setting much?'

Using his speed, he glanced into each room and staircase as he searched for any sign of the doctor. He got to a inner stairwell as he noticed a footprint of a bare foot on the wet ground. 'Well either that's him or some barefoot hobos have been living here.' He speed to the top and stop near the entryway, perking his ears towards a slight clatter in the hallway.

He cautiously moved forward through the dimly lit hallway as he felt his heart beat in his ears. He lightly slapped his face as tried to control his breathing. 'Come on man get it together! You can't hear anything if you just hear your blood pressure going up.'

"Hello hedgehog." He yelped as he heard the all too familiar voice come from behind him, he jumped into a fighting pose while turning around, he saw nothing but continued to hear the voice. “I was expecting dear old Thomas to join me today, but I this is so much better.” Sonic heard a heavy object fall behind him and spun around to see a wooden pillar had fallen.

“Oh how I missed the look of you cowering in fear." He could hear the sneering in his voice as he continued down the hallway.

Sonic scoffed as he spoke loudly. "Says the guy hiding in the shadows like a damn coward."

"Oh such vulgar words for someone like your popularity, be careful it might ruin your image." He took off trying to follow the voice, it leading him up to the top floor and into a wide, open room.

*Any sign of him yet?*

He whispered as he walked into the room. “Not exactly, he’s doing some creepy, ghostbprojection thing with his voice and I followed it to the top floor. Just scan for anything that looks suspicious in here.”

*Got it.* He rubbed his arms as he shivered against the cool wind blowing through the broken walls and windows. He stood in the shadows as he heard water dripping from the broken pipes and the buildings structure moaning as the air got more humid from the oncoming storm, an assortment of wooden crates scattered around the entire room. 'Not much to hide behind up here, he's just running himself into a corner by doing that.'

"Looking for me?" He felt his spine chill as he looked in the far corner of the room. Sitting crisscrossed on top of one of the wooden crates was the mad doctor himself, giving him a predatory stare and crude grin.

"Yes, I am actually." He swallowed as his mouth felt suddenly dry, despite the moisture in the air. He reached behind his back as he continued to converse with him. "You look horrible."

Robotnik let out a low chuckle as he let his legs fall in front of him, banging hard against the side of the crate. "My apologies, it's been awhile since I've had a decent shower you see."

Sonic continued to stand in the shadows as he unclipped his walkie talkie and raised it to his mouth, stiffening as he saw the human raise his arm towards him, his gloved hand clenched in a fist. "That's a no-no."

Sonic let out a small grunt as he felt the walkie let out a few sparks in his hand before it fell to pieces onto the ground. ‘The heck?’

“Don’t want them ruining our fun now do we?” He jumped down from the crate and walked out of the shadows. The man had looked like he went through a typhoon, his skin had a bad sun kissed color and his flight suit was covered in dirt, grass and mud, his pants were split and tattered above his knees, the sleeve on his right side of his jacket was completely ripped off while his left hand was behind his back, he could faintly see it was covered in a grey-ish color, a faint blue glow could be seen between his fingers. ‘That explains why he was able to destroy the walkie like that, but what is he holding?’

His face was also covered in mud, mixed in with the stubble of a beard growing on his face. His once neat, brown mustache was now unkempt and sun bleached with hints of gray sprouting through, his teeth slightly yellowed and laced with plaque.

“Actually scratch that last comment, you look absolutely disgusting.” Sonic snarked as Robotnik simply shook his head.

“Yeah, the sight of me probably makes you absolutely nauseated. So then why aren’t you coming closer? Unless you’re afraid of a little halitosis?”

*I’ve got two spot located near you, one is 2 feet away, the other is about 3 feet.*

“Ok.”

“Well?” He flinched, upon realizing that he heard him respond to his ear piece, but not realizing that he wasn’t talking to him.

He started to sprint towards the man, getting halfway into the room when he felt one of his legs be pulled back and something thin wrap tightly around both of his ankles, causing him to fall on his hands and knees.

“Gah!” He let out a yelp of pain as he whipped his head towards his legs, finding that thin, metal wires that was leading into the floor boards was wrapped painfully around his ankles.

*Sonic? Sonic, what happened?*

He let out a few grunts as he tried to pull his legs out of the snare but it only made the wires even tighter, digging more into his fur. He tried to loosen the wire from the floor as he heard Robotnik footsteps coming near him. “For someone who runs at the speed of sound, I’m disappointed you didn’t know that was there.

“Well, it’s not like there’s any spotlights in here, if there was you’d be able to see how much you look like a gargoyle that had a bad, cheap spray tan.” He snickers at the poor joke, despite the situation he was in. ‘Oh god, I knew Tom’s jokes would be the end of me eventually.’

“Oh har hardy har, the boy’s got jokes up his sleeves. I have some jokes too, want to hear them?”

“Not really.” Ivo ignores him as he keeps talking.

“Ah here’s my favorite one! What did the hedgehog say to the doctor when he asked what was his condition?”

He remained quiet as he whipped his head towards him, glaring and keeping his hand on the wires, still trying to loosen it.

“Uncontrollable screaming.” Robotnik pressed his thumb to the side of his hand, causing electric shocks to travel from under the floor, up the wire and up the hedgehog’s legs and body.

Sonic immediately dropped his head to the floor, clenching his fists and curled up as he fought against the shocks. ‘Try to focus it....try to focus on it!’ He tried to channel the flow of the electricity currently coursing through him, but it was too much at once for him to handle.

*Sonic! Just hang on! I can see where the currents coming from. Aaand I got it!*

He felt the shocks stop as he limply fell to the side. “Oh damn cheap thing, it seems to have worked though, don’t want you to glow bright like a glow stick again. It’s all thanks that parting gift you gave me.” He opens his hand to reveal the blue quill, attached to some circuitry and connected to screen of his wrist log.

He felt a sudden cold hit his body as he stared at the very same quill that he used against him so long ago. "How do you still have that?"

"It's been with me the whole entire time, of course you didn't realize that when you were on that high shot of energy, with the blue eyes and everything. Maybe I will be able to use this new powers on the humans rather than you? I wonder if they'll be able to hold out as long as you have?"

He felt a snarl come onto his face as he felt his own energy pour out of his quills, his sight became sharper and his hands dug into the wood, scratching the floor. "Don't you even dare think about touching them-." His voice cut off as he felt the electricity activate again, this time more excruciating than the last. He suddenly felt himself getting weaker as the glow of his quills dimmed and his eyesight became blurry.

Robotnik, now closer, let out a noise of surprise as he looked at his screen. "Ay dios mio! I knew you had alot of power in you, but I didn't know you had this much!" Sonic laid on the floor, panting heavy as he heard Robotnik boast about his invention. 'Did..is he trying to drain my power from me?'

Ivo tilted his head to the side as he looked at the hedgehog flinching on the ground. “Hmm the only thing is that wasn’t so much as screaming as I would have hoped, more like tiny baby whimpers. Now, shall we try that agai-....what the?”

He suddenly felt one of his top quills being grabbed and pulled up until he was on his feet, causing the pain to increase in his legs. He grabbed onto the man’s arm in retaliation to let him go but had no effect on him.

“What happened to you?” He questioned, sounding audibly confused as he looks at Sonic. “Why do you look like this?”

He winced as Robotnik kept a firm grip on his ear. He answers with a hiss. “What? I like wearing shirts now, don’t judge me.” Through his broken goggles, he could see the man’s eyes widen as he felt him let go of the quill completely, quickly catching himself with his arms.

He backed up and paced back and forth, muttering to himself. “No,no no no that’s not it. I immediately knew it was you despite your voice sounding different, but your appearance...” He looked back at him with his hand on his chin. “You wouldn’t change this much in just a year.”

Sonic froze, repeating that statement in his mind. 'A year...?’

*Did I just hear him correctly? He just said a year right?* “Yeah, Yeah he did.” Not even realizing he was talking out loud at this point, he sat back on his knees, minding his still trapped legs.

“Why are you referring to yourself in the 3rd person? It doesn’t work that well for everyone like it does for me.”

“Wha-no, you just said it’s been a year since you’ve been gone?

“A year and 6 months actually, that’s interesting how your species apparently hit puberty at a certain rate like that. You look almost completely different.”

Then it hit him, even though he looked disheveled, Robotnik still looked like the same man he fought all those years ago. Just more crazier. “What year do you think it is?”

He was visibly caught off guard by the question, crossing his arms he answered smugly. “It’s the year 2019 of course, don’t know why you need clarification on that.”

“You think it’s been almost two years since you left earth?”

“I know it’s been almost two years and I wouldn’t say “left” earth, forcibly evicted is the word I would use for that statement.”

“Dude....it’s been 10 years, it's currently the year 2029." Silence filled the room as Sonic saw Robotnik flinch as they continued to stare at each other, he went to say something but his voice got caught in his throat as his face morphed into a frown. "That's impossible."

Sonic let out a unintended laugh at the denial. "Impossible? It's been that long here."

"No it hasn't, my calculations might be off by a few months if anything. But it hasn't been a bloody decade."

"You literally just said I looked completely different! I was a teen when you last saw me, I'm in my 20’s now. Heck even the town is different!”

"You can’t possibly be that old now! Your genetics wouldn't show that kind of quick progress."

"Just because I'm a different species doesn't mean I don't age differently than humans."

"How dare you talk like what I’m saying doesn’t make any sense! I know what I’m talking about!”

"Do you? Cause it sounds like what you're saying doesn't even make sense to you!"

“And who’s fault is that!?!” Ivo’s voice rose in volume, making Sonic flinch back at his voice.

“Huh?”

“The reason why I’m like this now is because of you! My entire life was ruined when you banished me to that hellish planet! My mind slowly went mad as each month passed And what do I find when I finally make it back? That a damn decade has past all because you just wouldn’t let me experiment on you!!”

‘I..is he serious?’ He sat there flabbergasted as Robotnik unloaded his inner emotions. “You tracked me and Tom down across so all you could do was perform tests on me like a animal! Why the hell would I go with you after knowing that?”

“It’s better than throwing someone to a inhabited planet with no way to home!”

“You choose that path! It’s your fault that you ended up there! Don’t blame me for doing something that could be so obviously wrong, even to the so called ‘smartest guy on the planet’ and think you deserve better!”

"SILENCE!!" He pressed the side of his hand again, the metal around his hand making a slight crackling sound as Sonic felt the electricity activate once again.

Sonic screamed out and writhed in pain on the floor as he felt energy being drained from all over his body. *Son-ic? Bzzzzt, So-nic!?..bzzzt.* he could hear the signal cut off as the device got shorted out.

Panting hard, Ivo looked at the hedgehog crying out in pain on the floor, feeling no sense of joy, pleasure or anything that he usually would feel when torturing people. He backed away slowly, his mind started to race. 'A full decade? Could that really true? What has happened here when I was gone? Do they all think I'm missing? Do they all think I'm dead? Agent Stone, does agent Stone believe I'm...?'

"POLICE! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND! PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!" He turned towards the sound of several officers barging into the room, guns drawn directly at him. Two of the officers leading in the front caught his eye, the one he remembered from his last day on earth, nearly hitting him with a single bullet in his air mobile. The other officer in the front he immediately recognized, the man's face was in a scowl as he locked eyes with him with such fierce intensity, before the sound of the hedgehog's screaming caught his attention.

"Sonic?!" He went closer to the body and reached out his hand before recoiling it back in pain at the sharp shocks. He growled as he got up and cocked his gun. "Turn the machine off."

He glances down at his hand and answers him bluntly. "I can't do that Thomas."

"The hell you can't, turn it off now!"

"I mean that I actually can't, I broke the device in hand in my fit of rage." He shrugged his shoulders as his ears picked up more footsteps coming up the stairs.

"What's going- oh no!" He could see a yellow figure run behind the officers and kneels on the ground near the hedgehog, who had stopped screaming and was curled up in a loose ball, still flinching. "Hold on, just hold on Onii-chan." He assured him as he got out a small handheld device and pointed it towards the wires, managing to turn off the currents and started to remove them.

He could hear the cops voice blur out as he watched the small creature work on his tablet, noticing two tails twitching anxiously behind him. 'There's another one like him here? How many more could there be here?'

"This is your last warning! Get down on the ground now!" He ignores their orders as he looks around at the open walls in the room. "No, don't even think about it!"

"Oh I'm thinking about it I'm afraid." With that he sprinted out the nearest open wall, ducking his head as he heard several loud bangs and feels a sharp pain in his leg. He jumps out through the wall, flailing his arms as he fell at the height of the building and fell into the water of the ravine. he heard several shouts coming from the parking lot as he let himself float downriver into the cover of the trees in the woods, still clutching the quill tightly in his hand.

=======

"Follow where that ravine goes! I want the town placed on a full lockdown! Make sure he doesn't get out of the tristate area and if you find him, be careful and bring him in alive." The others nodded as they ran out of the room.

"Wade!" His friend stopped in his tracks as Tom made his way over. "Make sure you take Knuckles with you and fill him in, you'll need the extra muscle with this one."

"Got it." He raced down the steps while Tom ran towards Sonic and Tails, who had managed to get rid of the snares on his legs while Sonic laid in and out of consciousness.

He got down on his knees and held Sonic's head in his lap, hearing him let out a sluggish moan while Tails scanned his body. "Is he ok Tails?" The cub didn't answer as he scanned over his brother's wrist, monitoring his heart rate. He breathed out a sigh of relief and wiped his eyes.

“His heart rate is normal, i don’t think anything’s broken, he did suffered some burns around parts of his legs from the snare traps. It could be 1st degree but we should have Maddie look at him just to be safe."

"Yeah that's a good idea." He radioed for a ambulance to arrive as he gathered Sonic in his arms bridal style. "It's gonna be okay son."

He went to head towards the stairs but saw that Tails had wandered away, looking where Robotnik had made his escape. "Tails?"

He continued to look where he had fled, looking at the ravine to the trees and shrubs where it disappeared into the woods.

He rubbed his arms as he looked down at the ground before looking at his guardian. "I'm really worried about this."

Tom adjusted Sonic in his arms as Tails walks over to him. "Yeah, I know and I don't blame you."

He shook his head as he came closer. "I mean that I'm worried about who this guy is. I remember all about the crazy stories you guys told me about him, from when he was hunting Sonic to when the government told you about him, but he managed to live on that barren planet filled with nothing but mushrooms for so long. He managed survive all of that."

Tom sighed as they made their way down the stairs. "This isn't a normal man that we're dealing with, he's....something that could be dangerous even to himself if he had the chance.”

"Sonic told me something like that earlier before he went in, It made me even more worried after he told me about why I couldn't go in with him. When I heard him screaming like that and I wasn't able to pick up anything on the electric, I just.....froze, I didn't know what to do until I saw you pull up."

"Well it's a good thing you're a pretty fast flyer and have a very high piercing voice." He joked lightly as they made their way out the building and heard the ambulance sirens in the distance.

"Since he's still out there, there's no telling what's going to happen now that he know about not only Sonic still being here, but also me and any other mobians that live here?"

Tom ponders as he looks at Sonic's sleeping face to Tails' bright blue eyes staring at him.

"I don't know what will happen, but I will promise you this." He gets on one knee, being mindful of Sonic's injured legs. "Not only I, but Maddie, Wade, the whole town, even Crazy Carl will do everything within our power to make sure that all of you guys are safe. It's why you all came here, so we will make sure you stay here."

He smiled brightly and nodded his head at him as he felt his tails wag behind him. Tom winked as he saw the ambulance pull up and carefully jogged towards it.

Tails fiddled with his gloves as he looked around at the civilians, both human and mobian gathered near the barriers to see what was happening. He made his way over toward the ambulance, his fur chilled and damp from the misty rain.

“At this point, this new adventure that has emerged is plauged with so much uncertainty for all of us. But I know that somehow, we will fight through and win this one. Just like my people who escaped the tyranny of our world, just like my new friends and family. Cream, Amy, Knuckles and Sonic, even just like Robotnik. I am a survivor, we are all survivors and I will make sure that our future will no longer be in vain to this new world.”

[damienthepious]

idk idk idk i’m just doing my best

Going Through Changes, Ripping Out Pages (chapter 5)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ao3] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, (uhhhhh sorta), Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (WE WILL GET THERE…… EVENTUALLY)

Summary: Lord Arum wakes to discover that some things have changed while he slept. Namely, there is a human in his bed.

Chapter Summary: Just a moment to breathe together.

Chapter Notes: happy LKT! it's finally not death-grip hot today. i hope you're doing well <3

~

The Keep brings the pair of them to a familiar room, though not one that they would have expected. There are a lot of spaces in the Keep that don't have particular functions, exactly, since Arum isn't keen on categorization or organization, but this room he and Rilla have mostly taken to calling the study. It has a few books (far fewer than the scroll room), a couple soft seats (fewer than the dining room) and a window shaded by a thin, wide-leafed curtain of vines, and as they enter, the Keep drops another set of vines, lifting Rilla's instrument from beside the window and pressing it into her hands.

Rilla stares down, and Damien watches her swallow roughly as her hand wraps around the neck. It's a homemade thing, the same instrument that she engineered during her first stay within these walls, though it has been structurally bolstered and restrung and better tuned and painted with playful florals since that time. Rilla laughs, and it sounds nearly hollow, and the Keep's vines press the instrument more firmly into her grip.

"Keep," she says, her tone uncertain and worried, and the Keep warbles an urgent set of tones, pushing the instrument again before it releases it into her hands. "I'm… I'm not sure if-"

The Keep sings, then. Sings in words, the first line of a familiar song, and Rilla clutches the neck of the instrument tight enough that one of the strings makes a tight high noise against her fingernail.

"Oh," Damien says, catching the Keep's meaning, and it is so strange, he thinks, that such a sound can fill him with such warm memory and such sadness at the same moment. "Oh," he repeats breathlessly. "I see. You believe that he might… if he hears- you think the familiarity of the song, the association between it and us-"

"No. No, that's not going to work," Rilla says firmly, her eyes upturned vaguely in the direction of the Keep.

Damien sighs as the Keep exhales a wilted sort of song, but he can't deny that he agrees with his flower. Rilla winces, though, raising a hand to pat at the air consolingly.

"I mean- Keep, it's a really sweet idea, and the theory that he'll remember the song-" her voice goes strange and wobbly for a moment, and then she inhales and continues, "the theory that it would help him remember isn't without merit. Music has a lot of connection to memory, between repeated patterns of things like rhyme and rhythm and leitmotifs- but- but I don't think he's gonna take it very well if we try to like, perform a little three-creature concert for him, y'know?"

The Keep sings again, tentative but hopeful, and Rilla sighs.

"He'll think we're trying to manipulate him," she says quietly. "Technically, we would be. And- and he won't buy it if he can tell I'm not fully into it. I'm an awful liar- he can always tell if I'm putting on a face, and- and honestly? I just-" she folds her arms over her chest, looking down and to the side. "I just … I really don't feel like singing, right now."

Damien's heart pulls, caught in the tide of Rilla's ill-hidden sorrow. For its part, the Keep sings again, an understanding descent of notes, an obvious concession to Rilla's points.

"Why don't you play, just a little, my love?" Damien's keeps his voice low, and he brushes his hand over hers on the neck of her instrument. "And I will do the singing myself."

"Damien," she says, sounding tired and uncertain. "It isn't going to w-"

"Not," he clarifies, "for the sake of a solution, I mean. Simply for us. You have sung for my own comfort more times than I could possibly count. If it would bring you more distress, you need not play, but at least let me sing for you. Our Keep has made a lovely suggestion, and I should like, I think, to take some small measure of comfort where I can, and share it."

"Oh," Rilla says, blinking, and then she breathes a weak sort of laugh. "Oh, I mean… if you- if you want?"

Damien smiles, and it feels mostly genuine. They still have not come to any solutions, but surprising Rilla is delightful enough to warm him regardless. "I believe you are correct," he says, "that any attempts at artifice will only cause our lily to mistrust our intentions further. Perhaps we should attempt to show him your recordings, next. That seems an appropriate step. But currently, while he is… cooling off, as you put it, I think we should take a moment of our own. Settle our minds, comfort our souls." He squeezes her hand, ducking his head. "Will you let me sing for you?"

"Damien," she says, and her cheeks are dark as her lips tilt into a fond smile. She glances down to her instrument, and then she sighs, and sits, and lifts it to a proper playing position as she meets Damien's again. "I'll play. You can sing, if you really want to. But- but you don't have to sing for me, okay?"

"I know," he says, settling to sit beside her as her fingers dance across the frets, lazily adjusting the tuning. "But surely you know that I want to."

Her smile grows, and she plucks out a few unconnected chords. "Alright, alright," she says, voice warm, and then she bites her lip for a moment as her fingers move, as she strums through a few more experimental notes before she decides on something he can sing along with.

Another folk song, one without quite such a fraught connection to the four of them, this time. A song about warm rains and bolting for shelter, about closeness and laughter, about staying together in the hidden places, even after the storm passes by.

She is always so beautiful when she plays. She laughs, even, when the Keep begins to hum wordlessly along with Damien, and he nearly loses his thread when the combination of her talent and her joy threatens to overwhelm his heart. Eventually, on the final verse, she lets her own voice raise to join theirs, harmonizing until she strums the last chord.

Her smile tilts her lips, and her eyes sparkle between rueful and mischievous.

"Tactical and romantic," she murmurs, and Damien attempts to look innocent. "Okay, okay, I'm actually feeling a little better now. Happy?"

At the admission, Damien's shoulders relax, and he cannot help his own smile. "Absolutely delighted, my flower," he says, and then he leans closer, and Rilla breathes another small laugh as she lifts one hand away from the frets to cup his cheek, to pull him more decisively into the kiss.

Damien freezes when he hears the sharp inhale from the doorway, and he can feel the too-small reserves of comfort and warmth shrink within him. He can feel Rilla's frame stiffen beneath his hands as well, and he forces himself to pull back, to glance aside, to look where he knows he will see-

Arum leans on the doorframe, two hands clinging to the wood, his thin lips parted and his expression confused and open and raw. A moment after Damien looks towards him, though, he snaps his jaw shut again, forcing himself to look nearly blank.

Nearly. Damien knows him too well to be entirely fooled.

"How- how long were you-"

Rilla cuts herself off before she finishes the question, and Arum looks away with a throaty rumble, his tail flicking behind him.

"Long enough to know you were including my Keep in your little moment of bonding, which I do not appreciate in the-"

Arum cuts himself off as well, and Damien wonders for a strange moment if this is a very convoluted attempt at mocking, but the lizard's mouth twists into an uncomfortable line as he visibly struggles through some decision, his hands clenching and unclenching from tense fists as the rattle in his throat grows again.

Arum inhales, glances back behind himself for a moment, and then he seems to shake whatever thoughts he had been grappling, and he narrows his eyes at Rilla.

"You," he says, and Damien can see the way he is layering suspicion over his confusion now. "Rilla. You mentioned the Senate, when discussing how you claim we first came to… to know one another. What do you know of them?"

Rilla bites her lip, confused over this sudden return to interrogation. She furrows her brow as she meets Damien's eye for a moment, and he gives the shadow of a shrug, exactly as unsure about the monster's intent as Rilla herself is.

"Uh, only what you've told me?" she tilts her head, setting her instrument gingerly to the side of their seat and then crossing her arms over her chest as she thinks. "Which honestly isn't all that much. I don't think you really like talking about them? And as far as I know they haven't been much of a factor since the mess at Fort Terminus. They kinda-sorta run the show with the monsters in general, yeah? Mostly because they're powerful enough to just… do what they want, even if it infringes on what other monsters want."

Arum frowns, but despite his clear displeasure he nods. "That is not entirely inaccurate." He pauses, tension in his jaw before he continues, "and you are certain that I am… no longer in communication, then, with these beasts?"

Rilla's eyebrows shoot up, and Damien answers, "You have certainly not mentioned any correspondence, no. May I ask why this is a concern, currently?"

"Do you think they're involved?" Rilla asks, eager, and Arum's snout wrinkles.

"I cannot say for certain," he mutters, and then he bares his teeth uncomfortably, "and if I do not discuss them with you, I do not know how I could find out."

Damien turns that phrasing over in his head, and he is sure that he must have misheard for a moment, because he seems to be implying-

"Wait." Rilla shifts at his side, sitting straighter. "Wait. You're talking like- do you believe us?"

Arum stares at her for a moment, brow furrowed, and then he blinks quickly, hissing sharp and low.

Damien watches him hunch his shoulders, duck his head, hands flexing, and Damien does not know if his heart should swell or plummet. Arum did not even realize his own implication.

"I-" the monster stammers. "That is not-" he shakes his head, his frill fluttering with distress. "I do not-"

Damien stands, and Rilla stands a moment after, her hand at his elbow.

"Arum," Damien tries, and the monster snaps his jaw shut, glaring between the both of them for a long moment.

"… I do not know what to believe," he says slowly, eventually, and then he drops his eyes. "So … so perhaps you should continue attempting to prove your point. If- if you are so terribly certain that you are correct, if you believe you have some so-called evidence that may be so utterly compelling…" he trails off, exhales a slow sigh, and then gestures with a hand, prompting the Keep to form a doorway at his back. "I may have found some evidence of my own. Come. Convince me, and perhaps I will show you what I've found."

[->]

[thenorsiest]

Tagged by @incorrectly-quoted-queers Thank you my friend :). Tagging @ Anyone at all who wants to do this! by all means say I tagged you!

Long post ahead! 

1. What is the color of your hairbrush?

Purple

2. A food you never eat?

Haggis (never tried it)

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold?

Too warm but I can’t stand being cold. 

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

Driving

5. What is your favorite candy bar?

Theo’s peanut butter cups (I go for Fair trade chocolate when possible)

6. Have you ever been to a professional sporting event?

huh, I don’t think I have actually. 

7. What was the last thing you said out loud?

Hi baby! -to my dog upon entering the house. He’s so full of love and happiness, how can I not?

8. What is your favorite ice cream?

I’m so basic but Vanilla! 

9. What was the last thing you had to drink?

Iced Coffee! I had to go into town and I haven’t had good coffee in over two months, so I treated myself. 

10. Do you like your wallet?

Functionally, Yes. Aesthetically, No.  

11. What was the last thing you ate?

Eggs with cheese

12. Did you buy any new clothes last weekend?

Nope. 

13. The last sporting event you watched?

My Partner loves The Titan Games and I love Dwayne Johnson so... 

14. What is your favorite flavor of popcorn?

Butter! 

15. Who was the last person you sent a text message to?

My boss actually, I have to go back to work this coming monday :X (bit anxious)

16. Ever go camping?

Yep

17. Do you take vitamins?

Yes

18. Do you go to church every Sunday?

I’m not religious but I have a friend who’s been searching for a new church and she doesn’t like going alone so when she asked I went with her and tried to be a respectful observer. It was a good experience thankfully :)

19. Do you have a tan?

Compared to my partner yes! 

but no. 

20. Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

Chinese, give me those spices! 

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?

naw

22. What color socks do you usually wear?

Black for work. Tend to be barefoot at home. 

23. Ever drive above the speed limit?

Yep

24. What terrifies you?

A lot of things, how much time you got? 

25. Look to your left what do you see?

A book, some drawing supplies, and my humidor. 

26. What chore do you hate?

I prefer to think of the positive. I love making my bed. No really, I can go on a poetic rant about how good it makes me feel to see my made bed. How much I love peeling back the blankets to see my navy blue sheets that are as deep and inviting as the ocean. I love the small accomplishment I feel when I’m done and how much the cat adores sprawling on it when I’m finished just makes me feel happy. 

27. What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

Hanna Gadsby, watched Nanette on Netflix not long ago and it makes me cry. 10/10 queer recommended. 

28. What is your favorite soda?

Coke

29. Do you go into a fast food place or just hit the drive through?

I’m trying to cook at home right now. 

30. Who was the last person you talked to?

My partner. He always kisses me goodbye in the morning before he leaves for work. I always tell him to drive safe. <3

31. Favorite cut of beef?

Ribeye 

32. Last song you listened to?

Queen- I want to break free

33. Last book you read?

Currently reading “Erotic stories for Punjabi widows” its a fiction, not erotica, but the women in it do write erotic stories so consider it Explicit ;)

34. Favorite day of the week?

Saturday

35. Can you say the alphabet backwards?

Nope

36. How do you like your coffee?

Iced, strong, and fair-trade if possible. 

37. Favorite pair of shoes?

I’m a fall kinda girl, I’ve got five different pairs of boots and they’re all my favorite XD. 

38. At what time do you usually go to bed?

Working- 11ish, Quarantined- ???

39. At what time do you normally get up?

7 (my internal clock refuses to allow me any variance regardless of when I go to bed.)

40. What do you prefer - sunrises or sunsets?

Sunrises! I’m one of those weird morning people. 

41. How many blankets are on your bed?

One sheet, one quilt, one comforter. 

42. Describe your kitchen plates?

Corelle 

43. Do you have a favorite alcoholic beverage?

We had a bottle of rum my partner’s mother brought us from Cuba! It was delicious, smooth and unfortunately ran out too quickly. 

44. Do you play cards?

yep

45. What color is your car?

Idk why but this feels too personal... 

46. Can you change a tire?

YES (cue picture of Rosie the riveter saying “we can do it!”)

47. What is your favorite province?

I live in the US so I’ll say a state... umm... huh... we all have our faults don’t we? 

48. Favorite job you ever had?

My current one. 

49. How did you get your biggest scar?

oh, uh, well actually I had a tumor in my arm that needed to be removed last year. 

50. What did you do today that made someone happy?

Hopefully telling the cashier to have a good day and being a nice customer. I worked customer service and always appreciated when people were kind. Texting my mom and my partner that I love them. Offering a good morning message to my discord group? Here’s hoping those little things made an impact.