#anyway i know this might seem random but i’m so excited to post this fic

[residentrookie]

hi guys!!! this little excerpt is from my marauders ski lodge au fic (it’s jegulus + wolfstar and for context, the black and potter families visit the same ski lodge in wyoming every winter— remus’ dad owns a coffee shop at the lodge) i’m working on this fic for the holidays! this scene specifically is inspired by hozier’s song, abstract, because it means the world 2 me. hope u guys enjoy this sneak peak, i cant wait to show you the whole thing! (cw: death of an animal)

The car ride is quiet. Sirius had put on some music before they left, but it’s playing at a near indecipherable volume. Now he’s humming along to whatever song is playing. He’s not half bad, actually, but Remus is too distracted by the world blurring outside his window to give it much attention. It gets so dark up here in the winter. He likes that about living in the country. The moon, however, hangs over them brightly in the cloudless sky, lighting up the snowy hills and outlining the mountains on the horizon.

“Full moon,” Remus points out quietly. He’s not sure why he even mentions it. Sirius probably doesn’t give a fuck.

“Oh, no way?” Sirius leans up in his seat, scanning the sky and Remus blinks at him a bit. So he does give a fuck. Interesting. Remus has never met a rich boy quite like Sirius. He’s not quite sure how to feel about that yet. “God, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Remus nods back before realizing that Sirius probably can’t tell in the dark. “Yeah,” he agrees.

“And the stars too. You can see them so much better out here than back home. Too much fucking light pollution in the cities.”

That, at least, is true. One advantage to living in the middle of nowhere. The Snow Angels can keep their prep schools and their night clubs and their skyscrapers. Remus will happily take the stars. You can’t very well wish on a flickering streetlight.

Remus shifts a little, adjusting his attitude. After all, Sirius is doing him a favor. “Thank you for um. Driving me home.”

“Hm?” He asks, looking over. Right as Remus is about to repeat himself, Sirius seems to process it. “Oh sure! Sure, I didn’t mind. At all. Seriously. I’m glad you got to stay.”

Remus shrugs. “Well, thanks anyway.”

Sirius drums his fingers against the wheel. “I mean, I wasn’t going to mention it, but this was actually all an elaborate ploy to see where you live. So you know. Forget what I said about not having ulterior motives.”

Remus laughs. To his surprise and Sirius’, whose head jerks towards him at the sound. A pleased smile settles on his face as he turns back towards the road.

“Prepare to be disappointed,” Remus tells him, but something twinges in his chest. They’ve only ever been around each other on the Snow Angels’ turf. But this out here? All this nothingness? This is Remus’ territory. He’s oddly proud of the thought that Sirius will soon see his home.

“If there aren’t idyllic rocking chairs on the front porch, I’m literally suing.”

Remus is about to tell him that his dad might be able to handle that better than he can, but a shape on the winding road before them snatches his attention.

“Sirius!” he shouts, his hand flying automatically to the other boy’s shoulder, gripping tightly.

His breath leaves him in a rush as the car comes to a screeching halt, tires skidding against the pavement. Sirius’ arm comes across the console almost instinctively, as if to soften the blow of any impact for Remus, and if he wasn’t so damn scared, he might have the mind to think about the sweetness of the gesture.

“Are you okay?” Sirius asks when everything is finally still, breathing hard.

Remus nods quickly. “Yeah. Holy shit. Are you?”

“Remus.” Sirius whispers, his tone suddenly somber, and Remus looks over to find him staring at the road. At the black shape in the road.

“Oh.”

Roadkill is common out here. A long stretch of road, often quiet and empty, offers animals a false sense of security. Remus is used to it, but it’s never pleasant. Sirius, it seems, isn’t as familiar. Growing up in the city, he wouldn’t be.

“It’s a dog.” Sirius’ voice is so quiet as he stares ahead. So profoundly devastated. “It’s a dog, Remus.”

“It’s okay,” is what Remus tells him. He’s not even sure why. Maybe because the look on Sirius’ face rivals the tortured expression of the dog in the road, like he’s the one laid out on the concrete, bones crushed under the cruel wheel of some unassuming stranger’s car.

Remus looks back to the road and watches the poor animal struggle to stand, eyes glistening in the headlights. It’s still alive. Not for long, but for now.

The sound of the car door opening shocks Remus out of his stupor. “Sirius, don’t—”

“It’s dying,” he says sharply, and the door slams shut behind him.

Remus blinks, alone in the still-running car.

Sirius didn’t say, It’s still alive!

He didn’t say, We can save it, Remus!

He said, It’s dying.

For some reason, that stuns Remus. Sirius can see that the dog is almost dead. But he still got out of the car.

The next thing Remus knows, he’s outside too, the door closing heavily as he walks towards the front of the sleek car. The cold hits him instantly and he stuffs his hands in his jacket, wishing he had brought a heavier coat.

Sirius approaches the animal without hesitation. It growls weakly, a last line of defense, but Sirius remains undeterred.

“Shhh, hi, sweetheart. Oh you’re pretty banged up, aren’t you? I’m so sorry. They didn’t see you, did they? You blend right into the night.”

The dog must like the way Sirius speaks because its tail picks up and hits the ground just once, a clear canine expression of happiness. Or maybe it’s recognition. Sirius makes himself familiar to everything around him.

“Do you mind if I get a little closer, honey?” he asks the dog kindly. Another thump against the pavement. Sirius lowers himself onto the road beside the poor creature.“That’s it, that’s right. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

What are you going to do? Remus wants to ask. What is there to be done? Remus turns his head to make sure no one comes barreling along the road in either direction while Sirius is sat in the middle of it, as vulnerable as any animal would be to oncoming traffic in the darkness.

Sirius scoots even closer, close enough for the dog to bite him if it wished. It must not. He reaches out a tentative hand towards its snout, seeking permission before touching the wounded animal. The dog pushes his snout against his palm, almost begging to be pet by kind hands, begging to be handled gently after life had been so very rough with it.

“You’re a good dog,” Sirius whispers, voice catching in his throat. His hair is escaping from its low bun, the black strands blowing in the wind, in and out of his face. “You’ve been a good dog.”

His fair skin contrasts the dog’s dark coat as he sinks his fingers into the fur, careful to avoid any injuries. He strokes its head, behind its ears, under its chin. Likely all of its favorite places. One last time. Something jingles faintly under Sirius’ hand and he lets out the smallest, saddest sound, his fingers finding the collar buried in the thick hair around its neck.

“It has a home,” Sirius says, finally looking up at Remus. His eyes are shining, water lining his lower lashes. One blink and the tears will dislodge, sliding down his cheeks. “It has a family— people who c-care—”

“We’ll take the collar with us, okay? My dad might know the owner. We’ll find them. Let them know…” Remus’ voice fades, his breath visible in the night air. He doesn’t seem to be making Sirius feel better anyway.

Sirius’ eyes are on the dog’s now. It seems to be looking back.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he tells it softly.

Remus almost feels like an intruder now, his shadow, elongated and distorted by the headlights, stretching over the two of them, almost like the Shadow of Death observing this sacred passing from one world to another. The dog, in a final show of strength, lifts its head enough to settle against Sirius’ thigh and leaves it there until its chest stops moving. For a while, Sirius doesn’t move either, and Remus is left to stand and watch.

He realizes, doesn’t have much of a choice now. It would be foolish to hold onto residual hatred from a one-off situation in his youth after this. After Sirius bared his soul to him without even meaning to. He has no choice but to acknowledge now that he was wrong. That he’d judged too quickly, too harshly and Sirius… Sirius is not who he thought he was. There he sits, a pretty, rich, city kid in the middle of the road without a jacket in December, getting stains on his $500 jeans just to pet a dog while it dies a slow and painful death. Sympathizing with it. Crying for it.

You didn’t deserve this, Sirius had told it.

This radical act of kindness would have never even occurred to Remus, and he’s from here. He’s seen this exact situation from his car window countless times, his heart always aching for the animal, but never enough to fucking stop. To see if it might need comfort as it dies.

Now Remus is experiencing one of those rare moments in time where he feels every aspect of life happening to him all at once. The cold of the air against his cheeks, the smell of the snow melting against the edges of the pavement, the world a dark blue outside of the halo of light beaming from the car. And Sirius. Sirius is happening to him too. His face, the wetness on his cheeks sparkling in the light, the way his hand stills in the black fur, eyes locked on the head still perched against his thigh.

By anyone’s standards, Sirius is unquestionably beautiful. But this is something else. Something other.

He could be an angel, Remus thinks to himself suddenly, absurdly. He looks like an angel.

“We should move it.” Sirius’ voice is barely loud enough over the wind. “To the side. So no one— so it doesn’t have to get hit again.”

Remus just nods, his mind in a fog. They work together to drag the animal as gently as they can, depositing it in the grass beside the shoulder. Remus gently takes off the collar so Sirius won’t have to, stuffing into his jacket pocket for later. When it’s done, they stand together breathing, white puffs escaping their open mouths. The road remains empty, as if knowing they didn’t need to be interrupted.

Sirius clears his throat after a moment. “You probably think I’m fucking insane now.”

Remus’ eyebrows come together as he frowns. “No. No, I think you’re… good.”

He cringes at his word choice instantly, wishing there was a normal way to tell Sirius he thinks he might be fucking divine somehow, but Sirius just sniffs, laughing softly.

“Good?” He sounds dubious almost.

“That was a good thing you just did. Most people wouldn’t have bothered.”

Sirius tilts his head back and forth. “Yeah, well doing good and being good… Two different things.”

“Not to me,” Remus murmurs.

[raquellemonsta]

Hi girl! Me again!

Still can’t stop thinking abt that amazing tobio fic that u did which I requested, I NEEDD a part two or like a timeskip where they’re datinggg. I’m dying to know what their dating life is like when their pre-dating time is already as hot and fiery as u wrote it!! <3 along w the media n stuff like they’re obv they’re gn be so slay n espesh u write it so i alr know I’m gn love it sm!! So looking forward to it <33

golden (timeskip!kageyama x model!reader)

here it is! I love these two so much. I'm sorry this took so long, oops. disclaimer: you'll have to suspend your disbelief, I know in the manga he technically was 19 when he went to the Olympics but he's aged up here so that both of your career paths make sense. I am very sorry if that takes you out of the story at all </3 I hope you love it anyway!

wc: 2015 words

(part 1)

your relationship with kageyama tobio is nothing short of a dream. everyone can tell just how in love with him you are, and he's just as whipped for you. the two of you are meant for each other.

it's what all the tabloids, your closest friends, and even your parents say to you every-time you see them.

you can't agree more; he's the perfect man for you. tobio is able to understand the weight of being in the spotlight, millions of eyes on you, and he keeps you grounded. he's been your date to every social event, awards show, concert, sporting event, you name it. at the same time, you both are always there for one another, even with no cameras around. tobio's your safe space away from all of the pressures of being famous (and just being human, too). he's anything but a pr relationship, that's for sure.

which is why you're so excited, today of all days especially.

your boyfriend is competing in the 2016 summer olympic games, one of the most impressive feats an athlete can accomplish.

even if tobio can be quiet, not bothering to talk about what it is he's thinking about most of the time, you know that this has been a dream of his since he was a little boy. it's quite literally the farthest he can go in the sport he's loved forever, and he gets to do it with his close friends by his side, too.

your heart swells with pride just thinking about it. you're so happy he has this opportunity.

the unfortunate consequence of it, though, is that you haven't seen him in two weeks. well, that's slightly dramatic. he's able to text you occasionally, but nothings the same as waking up in his arms. other than games, of course, he's restricted to practice and the olympic village.

the only times you've really seen him in-person are watching his games, where you have a limited time afterwards to hug him before he's whisked away from you to start the same cycle over again.

it's been very lonely without him. your friend even sent you a twitter post someone had made about how sad you looked and how 'no one ever sees [you] without [your] boyfriend usually'. you kind of laughed at that, both at the ridiculous picture taken of you and at the fact that the caption might be true.

you miss him so much.

that's why you're both excited and nervous that today is the very last possible match: olympic finals.

entering the (at this point) familiar arena, you make your way to the side designated for japan. your seat is pretty close to the front, but still high enough so that you can see all of the court. that part is important, since your tobio rarely stays in one spot when he's out there.

you pull out your phone, shooting a text to your friend and then one to tobio, despite the fact that he definitely won't see it until after the game. you're pulled out of your focus by a man with a microphone held to your face.

"miss japan! miss (l/n), are you excited to be here today?" he looks at you excitedly, camera aimed at your face.

you can never seem to escape the 'reporters' from random news sites, especially here. it's not too surprising that they want to know your reaction to your boyfriend being in the finals. you don't want to seem rude, though, so once you recover from the shock of being interrupted, you respond calmly.

"of course i am. i'm lucky to have someone i know and love playing, too." you smile at the camera, waving to anyone who will end up watching this (which is always more people than you think). you can practically hear gushiken-san talking about what a great client he has. 'so humble!'

"yes, kageyama tobio. his performance has been amazing these past few games." he looks at you, expectantly.

"i think his performance is always amazing, but i'm also biased," you joke.

the man smiles at you, the two of you going back and forth for a few more questions, mainly about you and your most recent projects (shouldn't they be focused on the event you're at?), along with digging for any possible hints on where you'll be modeling next.

finally, he thanks you for your time and you're left alone. your attention then shifts to the court, where brazil has gone out to warm up.

your heartbeat picks up its pace, nervous and excited simultaneously.

it's almost time.

when the japanese team walks out, your eyes immediately fall onto number 20. even his warmup is flawless. you barely register the time passing, gaze locked on tobio like he's the only man on earth.

the whistle, signifying the end of warmups and for the teams to lineup, brings you back to reality. this is really happening. this is what he's worked so hard for.

this is his destiny.

————

finals. olympic finals. a game away from total victory, or bitter defeat.

his heart has been pounding for the entirety of the last set. tobio has always been able to keep his cool during matches, but something about the pressure of the biggest match in the entire world has managed to creep into his head. it even cost the team a point earlier. a foot fault has rarely ever happened to him before, yet here of all games it would. tobio knows he has to put that behind him, though, especially with the score now.

28-27. match point. and he's up to serve.

slowly moving back behind the line, a chill goes down his spine. the arena feels dead silent, despite the sheer number of spectators. he closes his eyes, pushing out a final exhale as his ears barely register the whistle.

this is it.

his entire life has led up to this exact moment. his serve undoubtedly making or breaking the game, and his reputation. it feels as though the weight of the world is on his shoulders, crushing him and depriving his lungs of air. like sinking deep underwater, he's nearly swallowed whole.

a saving grace is waiting for him, in the form of you. he pictures your beautiful face, smiling up at him like he's the only man in the entire world. like he's invincible.

tobio knows you're watching him right now. what are you thinking? about that missed serve earlier, and how lame he is? no. that thought is quickly swiped away. he thinks of how you'll run up to him as soon as the game is over, win or lose, take him in your arms and kiss him like no one is watching. he can't wait.

with complete precision, he tosses the ball up, going through his footwork as if in slow motion. he's done this a million times before, and yet this is different.

at the apex of his jump, he meets the ball. he swears he can see you now, hands over your mouth, gripping tightly in anticipation. he's sure he's never slammed the ball harder.

the ball drills into the back left corner, shanked by brazil's opposite.

the arena immediately becomes deafening, shouts and cheers erupting from every single side of kageyama as he barely registers that he ended the olympics on an ace. his teammates are crowding him, excited (especially bokuto), and yet all he can think of is you.

the next several minutes are spent awarding the medals, kageyama standing with his team on the first place podium. despite this being one of the greatest moments of his life, his face lacks a visible smile. he's glancing around the arena, searching throughout the crowd.

a tap on his shoulder finally pulls him out of it, though he turns around to be met with the girl he was looking for, you.

his eyes widen for a split second before you basically throw yourself onto him, hugging him so tightly that you can feel the cold medal through your shirt. tobio's arms quickly wrap around you, and even despite the sweat you move closer to him.

"i'm so proud of you." you smile brightly, amazed by this man that you're lucky enough to call your boyfriend. your hands have found their way to his cheeks, thumbs at the edge of his lips.

kageyama's never been big on pda, but he just won an olympic gold medal and has the prettiest girl in the world by his side. he can let a kiss with you slide, especially when you're looking at him like that.

you drown out the cheers and ignore the flashing of several cameras, lost in your love for tobio. it's only you and your lover, locked in a kiss full of emotion and yet simply enough to convey your feelings.

when the two of you pull away, it's like you suddenly remember just where you are, and you feel slightly shy (which is shocking, for you). tobio, on the other hand, is smiling down at you. really smiling, the smile that he told you people always thought was 'creepy', but you loved because you know it's genuine.

unfortunately, the two of you are pulled out of your moment together.

"kageyama, that was absolutely amazing! how are you feeling after such an amazing moment?!" a reporter rapidly speaks, trying to be heard over the loud environment. unlike the one interviewing you earlier, this woman appears to be from a more official american news station, trying to get an interview from the man who won japan the game.

tobio looks between her and the camera, confused, before he leans into the microphone.

"i love my girlfriend," comes his very choppy english. you can't stop yourself from smiling brightly, the camera turning to focus on you behind him.

he pulls you away after that, and you shoot the reporter and cameraman an apologetic look before following after him eagerly.

"thank you, hon." you joke, commenting on his earlier answer to the woman.

he looks to you. "it's true."

you lean up to kiss him again, hands tenderly holding his shoulders.

"i know. you're so sweet to me… can i wear your medal for a sec?" you eye the big circle of gold.

kageyama can only roll his eyes at your quick shift, though he still ends up taking the medal off and over his head, placing it on you like you've just created all of the stars in the sky.

—————

"tobio, what flavor should we get? i'm stuck between strawberry shortcake and fudge brownie." you stare through the glass case at the grocery store, pondering about the endless assortment of ice cream.

in the reflection, you can see your boyfriend aimlessly looking around the aisle, before his eyes catch onto your figure. you catch his lips turn up so subtly that you'd have never noticed it if he wasn't the love of your life.

he ponders your statement for a second, before coming up next to you and opening the case, grabbing both of the cartons you listed. you look up at him, confused.

"why not both?" he turns back to you, small smile still present.

you smile brightly at him, entranced. he's so perfect.

"i love you, tobio."

"i love you, (y/n)."

you let yourself fall into his side (the arm where he's not holding the ice cream, of course), wrapping your arm around his back as he does the same to you.

on your way to the self-checkout, you snatch one of the magazines on the edge of an aisle, plastered with a photo of you and tobio after his medal was awarded. you skim the bubble in the bottom right corner, one questioning any talk of marriage between the two of you.

you jokingly point to the bubble, showing it to your boyfriend.

"what do you have to say to this, hm?"

tobio eyes it, quickly reading before he smiles at you and kisses your head. he turns away to pay for the ice cream, ignoring your question.

"hey!"

"patience…"

[zreamy]

light grad school dump for the end of term !!!

(I want to use this post in lieu of an author’s note on skr when I post it, as I have a bit to say which I'm putting under the cut + something exciting at the end !!!)

I want to start by expressing my thanks to everyone who has read my work and enjoyed it, whether you read NTL when it first dropped or you found my blog this morning, thank you! Truly, thank you. I am immensely grateful for all of the sweet words and feedback I’ve received since I started my blog, and I wanted to say that they have been a huge source of reassurance for me, and have gotten me through more creative blocks than I can count. 

I’ve had an extremely hectic 2024, and somehow it’s already December 1st and I haven’t finished a fic yet……. have I’m really really trying to get SKR finished, and I only have one more scene to finish before I send it to Emma, which is exciting and frustrating all at once. I’m looking forward to sharing it with you guys, and hope to manage my time a bit better so I can keep writing for this blog as it’s something that I really enjoy doing. I’m also hoping that with the fic being almost 40k words, I’ll be able to make up — even if only in small part — for going a whole year without posting a fic.. 

And for all of your patience, please enjoy a random (unproofread) 1084 word snippet from skr !!! 

“I keep meaning to ask you,” Jeno starts, tilting his head as he speaks. “What the hell happened to you at the bonfire? I remember you and Jaemin seemed pretty comfortable again when we left, but then me and Hyuck got back, and poor Jaem could hardly remember how he got to the beach, never mind where you went.”

At this, a hodgepodge of vivid memories comes to you at once — kisses and late drives in July, sneaking off at parties to feel the wet heat of a summer evening hang over your shoulders, old feelings (good and bad) — threatening to bubble beneath the surface. A thick coolness settles in your chest, only spreading the more you try to will it away. 

You sigh, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder. “That was ages ago, Jen. Leave it there.” 

He frowns, seeming to pick up on your discomfort and hesitates before speaking with an earnestness that catches you off-guard. “Look,” he says, lowering his voice. “I’m not going to judge you for hooking up on the beach—I won’t even pry for details, I just want to know who it was so Jaem and I can scare them a little.” His tone is oddly protective, brotherly. 

It’s sweet, really, what Jeno’s willing to do under the guise of protecting you, but you can’t help but scoff anyway, knowing it’s partly an excuse for him to show off his gym gains. “Jaemin isn’t exactly intimidating,” you point out. 

Whatever he says in response is as good as nothing to you, whose breath has caught in your throat at the sight of Jay. The iciness quickly subsides when you see him, melted by an overwhelming heat coursing through your body by the second. He’s in the middle of a heated volleyball match with some guys you know because Jeno knows them—Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon. It’s no surprise that they’re attractive, they’re college athletes—good looks might as well be part of the team contract. But Jay? Jay’s glowing. The sun beating down against his honeyed skin and making the sheen of sweat covering his body attractive. 

“Ahh,” Jeno hums in understanding, following your gaze. “One of Jaemin’s football buddies, huh? No wonder you’re so secretive.” 

“I didn’t hook up with anybody,” you assert, finding it impossible to look away. “He made it clear he’s not interested, not like that anyway.” 

“Sure, he’s not.”

Jeno comes over to sit with you, slinging an arm — and what you think must be all of his weight — over your shoulders, saltwater dripping from him down your back. “Jay, huh?” he asks—smile wide, eyes tired.

You only shrug in response, the weight of his arm pressing down as damp sea air clings to your skin. 

There’s a glint of mischief in his eyes as he laughs to himself. “You know what’s funny?” 

A sigh slips out of you. You’ve known Jeno long enough to know that most of the things he finds funny aren't usually very funny at all. “What?” you ask, watching Jay, who’s chasing Jake around the shoreline with a water gun that seems to have appeared from thin air.

“It’s not much,” he says. “It’s just.. I would’ve thought Heeseung was more your type.” 

He has your full attention now, eyes on him and the smirk he’s wearing. “What? Jay’s not good enough for me either?” you ask, scared to hear his answer. 

“No!” Jeno shakes his head vigorously as if offended by the mere suggestion. “Not at all. If anything I’m relieved it’s Jay, he’s sweet, good head on his shoulders. If I didn’t know you so well, I might say Jay’s out of your league.”

You’re not sure what to make of that, brows knitting together as your lips curl downwards. “I can’t tell if you’re insulting me.” 

“I’m saying I think Jay’s a good match for you, that’s all.”

At this, you hum, playing nonchalant so Jeno doesn’t see how much you value his opinion. You only let yourself smile when you look over at Jay again—who is currently being dragged at the foot through the ocean by Jake, thrashing around and yelling in protest. 

“Want me to put in a good word?” Jeno offers. “I could warn him about your Jellycat problem.” 

You roll your eyes, nudging him. “Liking plushies is not a problem, Jen. You are a problem,” you say, throwing sand at his face, laughing when he sputters. 

Jeno shakes his head, getting water and sand all over you. “Hope you’re happy, Duckie,” he says after a beat, standing up and ruffling your hair. “Jay’s going to pay for that.”

Before you can ask what he’s talking about, he takes off sprinting towards the water, towards Jay—poor, unsuspecting Jay. Jeno barrels into him, and both boys disappear into the ocean with a huge splash, surfacing in seconds, though only Jeno comes up with a grin on his face. Jay’s spluttering, somehow still attractive as he pushes his hair back. Jake roars with laughter, clapping Jeno on the back, seeming pleased to have an ally and Jaemin runs over to join in, whooping and hollering like it’s the best thing he’s seen all day. 

You feel bad about it, you do, honestly, as you see Jay running around the shore for dear life, three guys ganging up on him for different reasons—though you can’t help thinking it’s better him than you. 

“Time!” Jay yells, forming a T with his arms. “Time! Time, please!” Despite his best efforts, his pleas are ignored and the other guys keep pushing him around. 

Finally, waterlogged and exhausted, Jay gives up. At the first opportunity, he runs from the water without looking back, only stopping to throw himself down on the blanket beside you. “Man,” he says, fighting for breath. “What did I do?”

“Well,” you start. “I might have had something to do with Jeno tackling you,” you admit through a laugh. 

Immediately, Jay looks betrayed, shaking his head. “Wow, and here I thought we had something going,” he mutters dramatically. 

You hold up your hands defensively, eyes wide as you nod, and Jay’s façade crumbles immediately, wearing a smile of his own at the sight of you. “We do! We do! You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” you explain, trying your best to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. 

Jay grins at you, nodding his head. “I guess it all worked out in the end—I’m exactly where I want to be right now.”

Plus also this !!!

(Idk when I can post it bc 1. Needs beta reading, but 2. I submitted it (in third person w named characters) on Friday for my assignment and I need to get it graded before I can post it) Plus also because it was an assignment for uni it's like barely 3k words !!!

Sending all the love in my heart, and plenty of hugs, Zo xx

p.s. @asahicore mama a skr snippet behind you 🤍

[pies-writes-and-more]

jealous

Word Count: 3,130

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader

Warnings: some insecurity angst (only a little though) but all fluff otherwise!

A/N: thank you for the help and love you two give me @satan-ruler-of-hells​ @thisnoodlewritesao3​. Was having a shitty day so I queued this fic up to hopefully bring some smiles to people’s faces <3

Haikyuu Masterlist

Ushijima would never understand why people flocked to him the way they did during tournaments. No matter where the team went, there were people begging for answers to their invasive questions, people screaming in excitement as soon as they saw them, but why?

“You’re a big strong attractive dude, Ushi, I dunno what to tell ya. Not to mention, you’re the ace of a powerhouse school,” Tendō laughed when Ushijima asked him why. But it wasn’t like any of these girls knew him so why were they always asking for pictures?

But despite not really understanding, Ushijima often complied with the request for photos, standing there as stoic as ever, not even bothering to crack a smile. He didn’t want to make anyone upset and he felt like just going along with it might actually be easier than trying to run away.

But today, Tendō watched as one girl got prepared for a selfie, and surprised Ushijima with a kiss on the cheek for the photo. She squealed in excitement, thanking him even as she ran away. The two Shiratorizawa boys stood there in confusion, Tendō’s eyes looking around to make sure you weren’t around to experience that.

Ushijima stood there for a moment longer, his hand going up to his cheek and touching the place she had kissed him. Had that really just happened? How odd. Why would someone he had never even met before do something like that?

The thought left his mind as soon as it had entered, turning around to follow Tendō onto the court. But he noticed how his friend’s eyes seemed to glance around the hallway, as if looking for someone, then fall on him questioningly.

“What is it?” Ushijima asked, watching his friend’s eyes carefully. 

Tendō just laughed and shook his head, “I’m just glad poor Y/N didn’t have to watch that. Can’t say I’d envy her.”

Ushijima’s brow tensed a little hearing those words, trying to comprehend Tendō’s words and tone, “I don’t understand.”

“I mean, you’re constantly followed around by girls and you must see some of them all the time at every one of our tournaments. But you and Y/N haven’t had a lot of time to see each other now that practice is every day right? Plus... what girl wants to see her boyfriend get kissed by some random fangirl?” Tendō explained, holding his hands behind his head as they walked into the stadium courts. 

Ushijima frowned a bit, still not fully comprehending. You knew that he was busy with volleyball and you knew he loved you, didn’t you? So why did it matter what some insignificant people thought? Or what some random person did for that matter? Sure, it was an uncomfortable kiss and was awkward but would it matter? He didn’t even know the girl. 

Unbeknownst to either of them, the girl had posted the pic onto social media. Swarms of jealous students and gossip news reporters started to share the picture and repost it with the question “Is this Ushijima’s girlfriend?”

It didn’t take long for you to be tagged. One of your friend had sent the photo with a questioning keyboard smash, wondering if you had known.

You hadn’t.

You had been up in the stands when it all took place - you didn’t see Ushijima often before a game since he was usually stretching while you got there early to get good seats. You had been sitting up in the stands, talking to another friend of yours and some of the other players’ friends and family. But when you saw the picture, it was like everything around you started to move in slow motion.

Your heart felt like it was moving up your throat, your chest tightening. Who was this girl? Your fingers instantly clicked onto her profile, glancing at all of her public photos. She was gorgeous, thin, smart by the looks of it too. She even had a picture or her playing volleyball.

Something inside of you asked the question, “Would Ushijima be better off with someone like her?”

He wasn’t following her on social media, so he didn’t know who she was. It wasn’t uncommon for people to post their photos with Ushijima, but no fans had ever been so bold to kiss him for a picture before.

You couldn’t even remember the rest of the game. Your stomach was churning so much you thought you were going to be sick.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” Your friend asked when they realized you hadn’t cheered as loud as you normally did during the games. You quickly plastered on a smile, nodding quickly.

“I’ve got to head out early! Tell the boys I said congratulations!” You asked them as the game came to an end, your feet quickly moving out of the stadium before the crowds left.

Ushijima could’ve sworn you had been up in the stands and you always came to his games. So where were you? Why hadn’t you come down yet? He stood in the hallway, watching as crowds of people left. Loads of them congratulated him or tried to strike up a conversation with him. But not a single one of them was you.

“Oh Ushijima! Y/N asked me to say congratulations!” Someone smiled up at him giving a thumbs up. He recognized them, they were friends with you weren’t they? So you had been here...

Ushijima’s forehead creased ever so slightly, “Where is she?”

“She said she had to go for some reason! She didn’t look so good when she left to be honest. Maybe she was feeling sick?” Your friend shrugged and gave another wave before rushing off.

Ushijima glanced at his phone, finding no notifications from you. If you had been feeling sick, why wouldn’t you tell him?

“You alright there, Ushi?” Tendō called, slapping his shoulder playfully. “We won, it’s time to go! What’re you standing around for?” His head spun around, looking for the missing part of their trio. “Where’s Y/N? It’s almost time for our celebratory dinner!”

“She left,” was all he said with a frown.

Tendō sucked in some air nervously, glancing at his own phone and all the notifications he had gotten over the recent scandal photo. “Think it might have to do with this?” He asked, showing the post to his friend. “Didn’t you get tagged in it too? Seems like the whole team was.”

“I don’t have notifications for those apps,” Ushijima shrugged. “I get tagged in a lot of things and it gets annoying.”

Tendō pouted at this, realizing that’s why Ushijima never responded to the hilarious things he would send him.

Ushijima was still frowning, wondering why everyone seemed so concerned with his dating life. He scrolled through the notifications that Tendō had on his phone, news reporters questioning Ushijima’s relationship status, people from their school mentioning Y/N and curiously wondering if they had broken up. 

All of this over some random girl? He glanced at her post a little closer, noting the caption read, “Ushi” with a little heart emoji next to it. He hadn’t been happy at all that some girl had decided to plant a kiss on his cheek but he never had the chance to tell her that before she ran off. 

“Why would Y/N leave over that?” Ushijima finally spoke, glancing again at his own phone to see if maybe you had texted him in the last few minutes.

Tendō sighed and raised an eyebrow to him, “Ushijima, some people get jealous.”

Jealous. The word echoed in Ushijima’s mind as he tried to consider the possibility that you were jealous over someone whose name he didn’t even know. 

“Wouldn’t you be jealous if you saw someone posting a similar photo of Y/N?” Tendō asked with a tilt to his head, curiously watching his friend’s expression. 

Ushijima let the thought cross over his mind while the two of them walked to where the rest of the team had gathered. What if some dude had posted a picture of Y/N, kissed her cheek, and everyone had assumed they were together? He frowned and shook his head of the awful thought, now understanding that maybe jealousy was that pit in his stomach he was currently experiencing. 

Although Coach Washijo growled a little in response, Ushijima insisted that he would not be joining the team for a celebratory dinner. When Goshiki asked Tendō where Ushijima was going, he’d just shrug and smile saying, “He’s off to be a good boyfriend.”

It must’ve been strange, seeing this tall man running around town, looking confused and frustrated. Numerous people around him glanced back at him, watching him with questioning eyes as he passed but Ushijima didn’t even noticed. He needed to make sure that you were okay.

You weren’t really sure why you left so quickly after the game was over. You knew the longer you waited to have this conversation with Ushijima, the more awkward you’d feel and the more upset that he’d be that you hadn’t brought it up sooner.

It’s not like you were mad at him or anything - how could you be? It wasn’t like he was the one kissing her, or that he had known she was going to do that - you knew it wasn’t the latter since Ushijima wasn’t all that big on PDA anyways so there was no way he’d be okay with it with some random girl... you hoped at least.

So if you weren’t mad, why did you run? You frowned as you tried to think of a good excuse, trying to tear apart the reasons for your behaviour. But all you could really think of is how insecure you had felt, seeing that picture. That girl was everything and you were... well what even were you?

Ushijima didn’t know how to beat around the bush - he didn’t know anything but being blunt and honest. So he had to be with you for a reason right? If he wanted to break up with you, he would’ve... right?

You groaned quietly, stuffing your face into the pillow you were holding into your lap. You needed to text him - he was probably wondering why you didn’t stay till after the game. But he hadn’t even texted you... hadn’t called... maybe he hadn’t noticed? You glanced at your phone one more time, as if waiting to see a notification you had missed or a text that you hadn’t heard the alert for.

Maybe you should just call him. Maybe if he hadn’t noticed, you both could just go out for food or have a nice night in and you could forget you ever saw that photo. You nodded slightly at your plan, moving your finger to call him. 

But a knock on your door distracted you. You looked up at the sound, glancing between that and your phone.

You dragged yourself out of bed, starting to type out a very nonchalant casual text to Ushijima as you made your way downstairs. Though it was very obvious once you opened the door that the text wasn’t needed.

“Y/N.”

What was it about the way he said your name that sent chills down your spine? 

You bit down on your lip nervously, realizing that all that time spent coming up with excuses was useless because here he was right in front of you, panting slightly, and you were drawing a blank.

“H-Hi, Ushijima,” you hesitated slightly, both standing there awkwardly until he nodded towards the inside of your house.

“Can I come in?” He asked softly, his voice more gentle than usual even with his heavy breathing. 

You nodded slowly and let him in, watching as he tucked his shoes away and stood in front of you as if waiting for you to say something.

“So... congratulations on your win,” you offered after moments of silence.

His eyes just watched you, as if checking to make sure you were okay, “Your friend said you had to leave. They also mentioned you weren’t feeling well. Is that why you didn’t stay?”

You stuttered out some sort of syllables that were no where near to being words as your boyfriend placed his hand on your forehead, cupping your cheeks in his other hand, “You don’t feel feverish but you are a bit warm,” he stated quietly. “Would you like me to make you some soup?”

You shook your head quickly, stepping back from him slightly, “I’m okay, Ushijima, promise. My... stomach just didn’t feel right.”

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he watched you, “Your stomach?”

You nodded, staring at your feet. You should just be honest, shouldn’t you? Ushijima was always honest with you. But what if you were honest and he came to the same realization - that he could do better than you?

“So this has nothing to do with that Instagram post?” Ushijima’s voice was stiffer this time around, almost... awkward? He shifted on his feet, trying to get you to look at him but when you wouldn’t, he just gently put his fingers under your chin, lifting your gaze to his. “Please talk to me, darling.”

It was as if you had been hiding tears this whole time and didn’t even realize it. But the softness in his voice and his eyes, the way he touched you, just made your eyes start to tear up, “It’s stupid,” you admitted after a moment and Ushijima’s thumb wiped away a tear that escaped you. “I know you don’t even know her.”

He nodded in response, stepping a bit closer to you now, “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” he told you, confirming what you had already assumed. “But I’m sorry.”

You gave a little laughing, shaking your head, “Ushijima, you have nothing to be sorry for. I know you take pictures with your fans sometimes.”

“No, I’m sorry because I didn’t understand why you would be upset at it at first. But Tendō helped me understand. Please don’t go taking photos like that with other men,” Ushijima asked you and made you laugh again. “I... I wouldn’t like it.” He admitted shyly, his lips turning to a small smile as he watched you laugh.

“She’s rather pretty though,” you mumbled softly, finally wiping the rest of your tears that were building in your eyes. “I just... You two look really good together.”

Ushijima seemed to think about this, lifting his eyes up to the ceiling as he considered your words, “She’s not ugly.” He stated simply, finally looking back down at you. “But I have no feelings towards her.”

“Feelings can be developed,” you suggested, hating every word that was coming from your mouth. Why were you arguing for him to leave you? Why were you trying to convince him?

Ushijima gave a chuckle this time, patting your head softly, “Why would I want to develop feelings for anyone else when I have so many feelings for you? You have nothing to be jealous over, love.”

Ushijima always said things with such honesty and you knew he would never say anything he didn’t mean... but didn’t he know there were girls out there much better than you?

“You are the one I want to be with. Not anyone else. All those girls I see at my games all look the same. But when I look at you,” Ushijima let his thumb graze over your lips gently, a small smirk on his lips, “I have to remind myself to stop looking at you. I have to tell myself that I’m staring. Before we started dating, Tendō told me you might think I was creepy because I just couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

You giggled, trying to not focus on the tingles this man’s finger left on your lips, “Oh ya?”

Ushijima just nodded firmly and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, Y/N. I couldn’t care less about anyone else. Do you trust me?”

The question hung in the air for a moment - you knew you did but how long would it be before he realized just how incredible he was?

“Yeah,” you whispered, trying to shove down all of your anxieties. 

He watched you and even though you were saying yes, there was something about the way you were standing that didn’t match with your words. Ushijima wasn’t the best at understanding people, but he knew you. “Everyone of those fans would stop coming up to me if I wasn’t as good at volleyball. One day, when I can’t play as well anymore, or if I ever get injured, all those fans will disappear. But the only one I’d still want with me is you. That’s how I know I love you.”

And even if it was just for a moment, all your anxieties stopped. You smiled to yourself and threw your arms around him into a tight hug. Ushijima’s massive arms wrapped around you as he pressed more kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “Next time, please talk to me honestly,” he whispered to you.

You nodded into his shoulder, closing your eyes tightly and murmuring back, “I love you too.”

The two of you would end up in your room, curled up with some show playing in the background before you’d sit up in realization, blinking at him in surprise, “Hang on, didn’t the team go for your celebration dinner?”

Ushijima shrugged and nodded, glancing at the time displayed on his phone screen, “Yeah they should be done soon. I imagine Tendō will text me to make sure you’re okay after.”

Your forehead creased in worry, staring at him, “Did... Did they drop you off on the way or something?”

Ushijima’s eyes shared your level of confusion, tilting his head as he tried to think about your question, “Why would they?”

“Ushijima, how the hell did you get here?” You asked with wide eyes, remembering how out of breath he was and wanting to hear the words from his lips.

“I ran,” he stated simply as if it was such a casual thing to do. “Is that important to know?”

“Babe, your tournament was across the city,” you gaped, mouth open slightly as your eyes widened even further. “That must’ve been such a long run, especially after a game!”

Ushijima thought for a moment, thinking about how the team had to take a bus to the games today, and how Y/N had to take transit. His mind tried to calculate the distance, though it wasn’t likely he’d get an answer. He just shrugged, thinking nothing of it as he settled back into your bed, “I could’ve gone farther,” was all he said as he pulled you in for some more cuddles, “as long as it was for you.”

Haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

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[avintagekiss24]

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖔𝖚𝖗 | 𝖇. 𝖇𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖊𝖘

→ pairing: beefy shadow monster!bucky barnes x black!reader

→ word count: 5367

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, dub con, a tinge of somnophilia, exophilia, #monster fucker, smut, sex, rough sex, masturbation, rough masturbation, sex toys, butt stuff, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, voyeurism, explicit language

→ square filled: @badthingshappenbingo​ 

wiping the other’s tears away

→ author note: guys, i’m... this is who we are now. we are monster fuckers. this is based on @idga-buck​ INCREDIBLE ask that was bred from this post. i honestly don’t know if this holds a candle to that ask because, whew girl. that shit fucked me up when i first read it! anyway, hope you guys enjoy because i might be planning a little monster fucker series based off of this and another certain someone that is mentioned in the fic.

→ read hirsute

The stress in your shoulders makes it hard to lift your arm once you finally reach your apartment door. It takes everything in you to shove your key into the lock and slam your hip against the old, swollen wooden door to pop it open, but just crossing the threshold into your sanctuary helps soothe your nerves. Everything falls to the floor within an instant— purse, messenger bag, coat— hell, even your keys. Hopping on one foot to remove a light brown, velvet heel, and then the other as you make your way towards your bedroom, ignoring the lively green house plants scattered around window seals and the living room.

You don’t even bother to turn on the lights. Don’t make a pit stop in the kitchen, or even the bathroom to remove your makeup. Hunger pains be damned. There are exactly two things that will help with this mood— an orgasm, and sleep. Thank God one always leads to the other.

It was 10:12am, just two hours into your work day, when you knew what you were going to need to help forget about this day. Emails piling up, phone ringing off the hook, picking up the slack for coworkers because you’re just so well versed in this… we could really use your help. Took its toll. By 10:12am you were ready to scream, punch your perky, always in a good mood cubicle mate, and rip your hair out— so you knew, right then and there, that you were gonna fuck yourself stupid when you got home.

Perverted thoughts lingered all day as you rifled through old court filings and scoured obscure statutes. Thighs tightened as your sex started to dampen at fantasies of being bent over your boss’ desk. Caught yourself staring, more than once, through his open door as he chatted on the phone, bright blue eyes glinting underneath the natural sunlight that poured into his office, crinkling on the sides as he laughed.

Then he would furrow those brows as he read through briefings. Jaw and lips set tight, eyes squinted as he nibbled absentmindedly on his bottom lip. Big hands and thick fingers made the pen in his hand seem entirely too small. Pink tongue darted out to wet pink lips.

You’ve spent many a night with thoughts of Andrew Stephen Barber; and tonight will be no different.

Dark shadows are cast across the floor and bed, small slivers of moonlight creeping in. The sound of your shoes hitting the floor don’t even register in your ears as you wiggle out of your skirt and panties and fall onto the soft, warm, inviting Queen mattress.

Deft fingers make light work of the buttons on your silk blouse but the other hand can’t wait— slipping down your stomach and between sticky, hot flesh. A sharp inhale fills your chest as you rub slow circles against your clit, pangs of quick excitement starting to fire off. Your fingers push down to your slit, prodding and stroking gently as a new wet starts to slick your muscles.

A lazy smile curls onto your face. The stress of the day starts to evaporate as you melt into the mattress, the circles against your clit quickening, hips starting to roll and push up into your hand. The expensive silk of your blouse falls off your shoulders just a bit as you push it away from your chest, exposing two bare tits and quickly thickening nipples.

You take hold of one— tweaking it slow. Pinching and rolling the nub before palming your tit all together, cupping and pushing the mound of flesh up your chest. A swipe of your tongue— rough and torrid— against your nipple makes you grunt deep. Makes your hips jut upward as you prod that now filthy wet slit and hole.

Muscles flex as the sound of your dirty deed fills the empty space. Wet squeaks and sloshes bounce off the walls as fingers thrash back and forth and up and down against your clit. Heavy, thick thuds of your palm pounding against your body when one, two, three fingers finally slip inside— but they aren’t enough. Not wide enough or long enough to feed the hunger.

Then… there’s a shift. The atmosphere in your apartment— your room specifically— just changes on a dime. The tiny hairs on your body start to stand on end, goosebumps raising on your skin. Your eyes slide open, blinking up at the ceiling as your pumping hand slows down to just a creep before stilling completely. An already racing heart starts to beat harder, lips part, eyes and limbs completely frozen in place as fear strikes you.

You’ve felt this before, at random times since you moved in. Sometimes in the shower or in the kitchen, when you’re getting ready for work, or catching up on a show— but mainly at times like this. When you’re stretched out on your bed, naked, fingers rooted deep in your cunt, when you feel like you’re being watched. Like there’s a thousand eyes on you all at once.

There’s even a chill that takes over the room, sometimes getting so cold that for a brief moment, you can see your breath. You’ve gone to management a few times, who of course did nothing— but a few of your neighbors put your mind at ease, it happens to them sometimes too. It struck you odd that it was mainly just your female neighbors who experienced the random chills, but you brushed it off. You live on the southside of the complex, the sun gets blocked by the surrounding buildings. You also live on the first floor— heat rises, cold sinks. It happens.

You swallow hard, shutting your eyes, trying to center yourself again. A small laugh escapes your lips seconds later— you’re ridiculous. Maybe it's time to lay off the horror movies for a while.

Shrugging out of your blouse the rest of the way, you roll onto your side and pull open the drawer of your nightstand. Out comes the cute little heart shaped butt plug, complete with a pretty pink crystal gem. A small bottle of water based lube is next, and then, the pièce de résistance. Your ten inch tall, two inch wide realistic dildo.

Your stomach tightens with anticipation as you fumble with the flip cap of the small purple bottle of lube. Just a dollop is enough to coat the steel plug, the excess on your fingers used to wet your warm, puckered hole. Melting back into the mattress, you roll your shoulders, let your eyes flutter closed, and grab your bottom lip between your teeth as you massage your rim with the rounded tip, gently pushing.

A soft moan vibrates in your throat as your body opens up. Your hole twitches, clenching tight around the toy as it disappears with a quick pop as soon as the widest part is shoved in, leaving nothing to be seen but the pink heart flush against your hot rim. You draw your legs up, calves pressed against the backs of your thighs, butterflying open as you drag the fake cock through your folds— against your clit— using your slick to lubricate the soft silicone.

Fingers find your nub soon after, slapping quick, before stroking the delicate flesh as you start to tease your slit. The cock head slips in easy, but you're so tight, so worked up and eager, muscles swollen, that it takes a little more effort to swallow the rest. Tiny little wet squeaks fall from your lips, body tenses and curls inward as you push, push, push— mouth falling open, face splintering with pleasure.

It takes not even ten seconds for your body to adjust, hips wiggling and shifting to get comfortable, before you're pulling the massive toy out and shoving it back in. You start to murmur, indiscernible, clipped words filtering through full lips— a hot tongue slipping out, sweeping over teeth as your hips start to get into it.

You’re soon too far gone to notice the black shadows moving around the room. Chalk up the feeling of the little hairs standing on end, the goosebumps popping up across your body to your arousal— and not the two piercing blue eyes that illuminate at the edge of your bed.

~~~

Bucky could reach out and touch you he’s so close now. He’s careful still— almost getting caught by you earlier, his anticipation for your almost nightly show getting the best of him. Making him sloppy.

He’s haunted these walls, these rooms, these buildings for decades, if not a century or more. Seen generation after generation moving in and out, kids growing up into adults, adults growing old, the old dying off— but you— fuck, you’ve got to be his goddamn favorite of them all.

Deep brown skin. Lithe and delicate. A soft little quiet thing, engrossed in her solitude and house plants, more than happy to shut the rest of the world out more often than not. You’re gentle. Your soul, your physicality, except in these moments. When you fuck yourself like this, and it doesn’t matter when— in the mornings when the sun is soft, in the late afternoons, your body covered in the oranges and pinks of the sky, late at night in the absolute darkness with nothing but the moon and the shadows— you’re anything but gentle.

Unrestrained and wild you are when in the throes of your arousal. Writhing and loud, a thin sheen of sweat on your brow. Eyes clamped closed so tight sometimes sweet little tears squeeze out and slip down your cheeks. Two perfect tits, mounds of soft flesh, jiggle and bounce with the aggressive thrashes of your fingers against a glistening, sensitive nub.

Nights like tonight are his favorite. When you’re acutely aware that he’s here, but too scared to really give it much thought. When the fear strikes you stiff. When you pull out that monstrous fake cock and spread yourself wide— stretch that pretty, pink, wet cunt. The squelch, the squish of the foreign object being jammed into hot, distended muscles.

Your smell. So sweet and pungent— distinctly you. It’s constantly on the tip of Bucky’s tongue, filling his nostrils, swirling in his head and chest— taunting him. Intoxicating him. Begging and beseeching him to just reach out and touch. Taste. Oh, to have your scent— your flavor— on his lips to savor. He wants to bury his face between those thighs, drown between them. Slither into you and curl up, take up residence.

Bucky’s gotten bold as of late— now, not even waiting until you’re fucked out and sex drunk, falling into a peaceful, post orgasm slumber to move around. No. Now he shifts while you’re still awake, still fucking— toy sowed deep, fingers slapping, hips snapping, back arching.

You’ve snapped your head towards him once or twice over time as you’ve caught his movement in the corner of your eye. Sat straight up, mouth hanging, eyes wide, chest heaving as you stared into the darkness— waiting. Scared shitless. You even tried to cover yourself, hands over your tits, legs closing into each other.

It made him laugh.

You’re already his. That body claimed— no need to cover it up now.

Even tonight, he’s even bolder still. Right at the edge of your bed, peering on. It’s a damn near perfect view when you get like this— sloppy. Legs splayed open, heels dug into the mattress, hips arched off the bed. Your slick glistens underneath the moonlight, splashed on your thighs, strings connected between two puffy, balmy lips. It’s nothing but an invitation— an invitation that he can’t ignore for much longer.

He pushes his knee into the mattress, and then the other, his substantial weight dipping it. Piercing blue eyes snap towards your face as he stalls, waiting for any indication that you feel him there— a smile curling onto his lips when it doesn’t come. So he pushes closer, settles right at your feet. Reaches out, hovers long, black fingers over your chest— so close that his pointed, sharp nails graze your skin.

Makes you gasp.

Bucky snaps his hand back, but you don’t stop. You shiver. Goosebumps ever present on every inch of your skin— but you don’t stop. In fact, you get faster, harder. Pounding that fake cock into your cunt, pushing your hips higher as you slap and knead at that sticky, swollen nub.

You like it.

You like his touch.

Pride swells in Bucky’s chest. Maybe you’re much more receptive than he originally thought. Maybe it’s the fear itself— knowing you’re being watched by something, not someone— is what turns you on. And it makes Bucky bolder still.

He looms over you, hand pressing into the mattress right by your head. Head tilting as he leans in, brushing the tip of his nose against your cheek. You jump again, mewl loud when his nails scrape against your skin, between your jiggling, bouncing tits. He wants to fuck you so bad. Stuff you full of his monster cock— he knows you can take it. Knows you can stretch wide for his veiny, dripping prick. Suck those pretty tits into his wet mouth, those hard, perky nipples between his sharp teeth. But he won’t, not now.

You’re so close.

And this is always the best part.

So he pushes away, away from the bed. Hovers up near the ceiling, eyes shifting from their brilliant blue to pitch black so he can enjoy your finale. Then he’ll wait a while, maybe a few nights— maybe a few hours, who knows—  to encourage an encore.

With a little help, of course.

~~~

You cry out, shrieking into the darkness as the coil planted deep threatens to snap. The chill in the room has your nipples hard, but the heat blooming across your skin has you damp and sticky. There’s gusts of something— splashing over your naked body— but the windows are closed. The air conditioning turned completely off.

It feels like breath. You’d swear it— and it’s so close. Like someone, or something, is right on top of you. Shudders wrack your body, adrenaline rushes as ice floods your veins. Alarm, panic, sheer horror gripping you.

But, you cum before you can rationalize it. Before you can pinpoint it.

It’s so sweet, the orgasm, so deep as the warmth of it spreads like wildfire. Toes curl hard, so hard they go numb as the waves crash, each one harder than the one before. Heart in your throat, the blood rush in your ears. Muscles spasming, clenching and clamping down around the silicone cock, clit jumping with each contraction of your cunt.

It lasts for awhile— your body knowing that this is what you needed. So you ride it out as long as you can, fingers still rubbing and thrashing against your clit until it’s too sensitive. You stuff the cock into you one last time and leave it there, fixed so deep as your body falls back against the mattress. Your asshole constricts around the plug, twitching and fluttering as the last jerks of your hips start to subside.

Chest heaves with deep, long, ragged breaths. Tits pushing up and down, jiggling, stomach flexing as you go limp. Limp and fucked out. Asshole and cunt used, hot— weeping lube and cum. You’re a mess. A beautiful, sated, sloppy mess.

A lazy smile on your face, eyes hooded, you stare up at the ceiling. Unaware that you’ve found two black eyes just perfectly— stare right into them as they peer back at you.

Sleep starts to pull, a mushy, hazy brain giving in all too easily, not giving you time to recognize that you’re being watched again. That there’s a presence looming just over you— all around you. Or maybe, it's a mechanism. Maybe you don’t want to recognize it. So you roll over onto your side, shimmy underneath the blankets to gather some warmth. Shut your eyes and give into the sleep— vow to stop watching those cheesy scary movies so late at night.

They’re making you paranoid.

-

The sting of cold on your extremities makes you stir. Letting out a yawn, you flex your toes, pulling the blankets up to your chin as a chill ripples through your bones. You roll onto your back, and push out a breath, not opening your eyes to see the white puff of air. Another shiver, a deep one, rolls through you again, making you shift underneath the blankets and push your face into the pillow.

Moments later is when you perceive a warmth. A soft moan trembles in your throat as you smash the back of your hand against your face, still teetering between sleep and consciousness. The ache between your legs grows harder to ignore— the warmth, starting to sear. Your hips buck soft. Another groan scratches at the back of your throat.

You’re writhing within minutes. A white hot molten pooling in the pit of your stomach and spreading out to the tips of your fingers and toes. The cold nothing but a distant memory as the familiar burn of lechery encompasses your tight body.

It feels so real— a long, forked, rough tongue lapping at your folds, swishing around your clit. You jump suddenly, gasping deep when something like teeth, so many sharp teeth, nibble and bite at the meat of your thighs. There's pressure, pressing down on your stomach and wrapped around your thigh as you draw your knees up slow, digging the balls of your feet into the mattress. The pressure, it’s warm and vast— something like a palm… there’s scratching, quick little tickles over your stomach, your tits, your ankles and calves.

Fingernails. Long, jagged fingernails.

You give in to the fantasy— the dream. Not opening your eyes, not giving into the consciousness that tugs at you, not wanting to lose this euphoria. The pressure on your stomach gets harder, heightening the sensation of the tongue against your core and almost pinning your writhing hips to the sturdy mattress.

The tongue, rough and wet, slithers through your folds, flicking quick against your clit before the mouth sucks you right up— lips, clit— right into it. Tongue flattening against your slit, teasing your pink opening. Then, oh God, and then it slithers inside, that tongue. Massages your hot, swollen muscles from the inside. Your body jolts up, away from the mattress, a breathy, drawn-out snarl bursting from your lips.

You fall back against the mattress— liquify into it really and let your hands roam, finding your taut, thick nipples. Tweaking and rolling them, pinching between deft fingers before palming your tits feeling the goosebumps that have popped up on your flesh again. Your knees fall apart, legs splaying open, putting your swollen cunt on full display for this invisible force.

It’s not long before your hips are jutting up into the dream tongue, the lips, the teeth hard and fast, a sharp sting piercing your clit just as you start to cum again. Loud, shaky moans fill the room as your hips pulse and your back arches. Cursing, whaling as the dream tongue swipes and flicks, lips wrap around your nub again, sucking hard, coaxing every last drop of your release out of you.

Thighs, stomach, arms, cunt burn as a delicious stretch, a used ache settles deep in the exploited muscles. Long, hoarse breaths fill your chest, the air rushing so fast, and yet so slow that it makes you dizzy. You couldn’t move if you wanted to, everything is just so fucking heavy.

Brain is mush again, cloudy and dense, stupid with ardor. Lazy, broken moans vibrate through your vocal chords, body twitches with quick aftershocks every now and again, making you giggle. You feel like you’ve been hit by a mack truck. It’s so nice.

Once your breathing has slowed back to normal, you roll your head towards the window, open your eyes just enough to see the moon cutting into the room. Relief floods through your veins, happy to find it’s still night time, still dark, your room still moody, giving you time to fall back asleep with the pleasant thoughts of whatever just happened— but you’re a mess again. Skin sticky and damp, panties ruined. Your eyes droop and close as you push out a soft breath, hand slipping down your body. You should really clean up.

Maybe in a few minutes. You push your knees together slowly, swaying them back and forth as your fingertips find your clit, toying with it gently. They calm your jumbled nerves quite nicely and immediately— the touch familiar. Your fingers stretch out, tips push down just a little lower as you smile stupid and lazy and blink slowly up at the ceiling.

The smile doesn’t last long.

Your eyes pop open as a simultaneous sharp gasp fills your chest with cold air. Blood runs ice cold through your veins.

“Good,” a scratchy voice sounds as your fingers push through a tuft of thick hair just between your legs, hot breath sticking to tacky flesh.

Shallow, quick breaths squeak through your teeth, eyes wide, lips and chin trembling as your limbs grow heavy— oh so heavy. Frozen. You slam your eyes shut when a hand slides slowly up your side, serrated nails skipping across your skin. A sob chokes out as you slam your eyes shut, fear gripping every inch of your body.

The wet, long, hot tongue of your dreams swipes at your core again but you’re still sensitive— jumpy— hips pushing down into the mattress to get away from it. A second hand grabs your hip, squeezes it hard, stilling your lower half as it laps at you again. The crawling hand finds your left tit, cups it— kneads it slow— rolling the thick bud between even thicker fingers.

“Look at me.” The voice sounds again, like gravel, low and rough.

Your clit is sucked into an instant warmth, a wide, flat tongue massaging— rolling— gently. A soft, tiny little noise thrums in your throat as a shudder ripples through already irritated muscles. The sound pleases whatever is between your legs, as it chuckles deep, the vibrations adding to the sensation of its tongue.

It pinches your nipple— quick, hard— and bites down into the meat of your thigh while also squeezing it with it’s other massive hand, “I want you to look at me.” you hesitate— and it doesn’t like it, “Look at me.”

The chill in its voice forces your eyes open, but you keep them on the ceiling as silent tears trickle down the side of your face and onto your pillow. An influx of air fills your lungs when a hand pushes up to your face. A thumb swipes underneath your eye gently before an index finger curls to wipe away the wet emotion.

“You’re pretty when you cry,” it says, a little softer, still rubbing your cheek slowly, “Look at me.”

Against your better judgement, fighting through the fear, you blink, shifting your eyes towards your drawn-up legs. There are two big eyes, unnaturally blue, probing and upturned, staring back at you, disappearing in the dark as it blinks before they settle back on you. In fact, they stay on you as it’s tongue flicks out at you again, sweeps through your folds, teasing your opening, your clit again. It palms your tit, squeezing before sitting up, exposing it’s true size.

Your eyes follow slowly upward as it towers over you, it’s knees pressing into the mattress, dipping it deep with its weight. You struggle to breathe, eyes flutter quick as your lips tremble, taking in the umbra. There’s a wide chest, thick biceps and forearms and hands and fingers that push your legs back— towards your chest and stomach. Stocky thighs and a—

You gulp slow, sitting up on your elbows as your eyes zero in on the throbbing, weeping cock between its legs. The moon illuminates the pulsing veins running the impressive length, the wet, red, dripping cockhead— cum already dribbling out, splashing on your skin. It’s hot and silky— dense, the cum, as it wipes the spot away with it’s thumb, a nail cutting into your skin.

It grabs itself, strokes it’s massive cock slow as it drags its eyes along your naked body. Another shudder trembles through you when it teases your cunt with it’s cockhead, pressing into your clit, dragging through your folds, prodding at your slit. You let your head drop slightly, let your eyes close to slits, let your mouth drop as it’s fingers skip up and down your thighs, it’s jagged, black nails tickling you.

Errant hips canter upward, pushing your clit against its tip again, coating it with your slick before you let it settle back against your opening.

“Now that you can see me, beautiful,” it’s raspy voice sounds, starting to push into you, “I want you to scream.”

It juts into you hard, pulling a loud scream out of you— just what it wanted. You pant as it pushes, deep, deep, deep, until its hips are flush with yours, cock completely sunk. It doesn’t move right away, lets you wiggle and twitch, hiss and grunt as you adjust to the size— the absolute fullness. Stretched so wide, clasped so tight around this pulsating cock that you aren’t sure that you’ll be able to walk tomorrow.

But you’ll risk it.

It locks one of your legs around it’s waist, throws the other over its shoulder, slipping its massive hand down the length, down your calf, over your knee, along your thigh until it’s fingers settle on your cunt— on your clit. Slow circles are drawn into your flesh, a gentle pressure applied as it pulls back, cock dragging out of your death grip. You hiss as it sinks back in, reaching something deep.

It’s blistering after that. Within seconds, hips are snapping, skin slapping against… skin? You aren’t even sure. Long fingers are everywhere, tits, stomach, legs, cunt— gripping, groping, pinching. They venture up to your chin, up to your parted, swollen lips, where they linger. You send wide, innocent eyes up to its blues, tits sliding up and down as you lunge with each thrust— and open your mouth wider, sliding your tongue along the tip of its finger.

When a husky moan rumbles through its chest, your heart soars unexpectedly. It’s pleased with your eagerness— your reception.

You’re empty suddenly. A strong hand grips your side, pulls you roughly down the bed. Flips you over before yanking your hips upward, propping you up on your knees. And then, you’re pinned— an unyielding grip around the back of your neck holding you in place. You grunt and start to whimper,  another bout of fright coursing through your veins as it smashes the side of your face into the sheets and pillows.

It fucks back into you slow, a long, shuddering groan spilling out of your trembling lips, “My pet,” it speaks again, squeezing the back of your neck a little harder, “Such a sweet little thing.”

Reaching back, your fingers graze over a sinewy thigh, taking hold as you start to spring forward with each drive of its hips. You slam your eyes closed, more emotion squeezing out of them. The dull burn is back in the pit of your stomach. Your toes and fingers start to curl and flex as each stroke gets sweeter and sweeter, hitting that deep little spot within.

Goosebumps pop up again. Heat blooms across your skin, filling your face and chest and stomach. Spit dribbles from the corner of your mouth as two pouty lips form a perfect little “o” as you start to shriek, each sound coming faster and faster, louder and louder. Your fingers find your nub again, rubbing and slapping to set this release in motion. The sound of your slick is sloppy, wet— and gorgeous, to both you and it.

You’re cursing, sobbing, begging within minutes, teetering right on the edge. It starts to thumb at your asshole, rubbing the rim gently, pushing just inside— coaxing you on.

That’s all it takes. You tense hard— toes curl, fists ball, stomach clenches— and then stiffen as your orgasm hits. A white hot flushing through as you quake, cunt spasming around it’s heavy cock. Jammed full, orgasm rippling, fingers still thrashing against your constricting clit, you’re dizzy, warm all over, sweaty and freezing cold all at the same time.

Your companion— this monster of the night, lurking in the shadows— hammers on behind you, pumping, gripping, squeezing, pushing you down further into the mattress as his strokes get sharper. Stronger. More forceful.

It gets loud. Growling so deep and heavy that the sound shakes the walls— the bed. God, the poor neighbors. It grips your hip with one hand so hard you yelp in pain, hands flailing, trying to grip and grab anything they can as it fucks into you.

One, two more jabs and it stills quick— and that’s when you feel it. Another white hot, this time all concentrated in your overstimulated, tight, wet cunt. Long ribbons of cum, silk soft and warm, fill you up, up, up— to the brim. It’s cock veins pulsate, it’s girth seemingly growing wider, stretching you more as it unloads. Cock jumping in your tight grasp as cum weeps from it.

You take it all, humming loud and proud, panting as you feel it’s seed spill out, down the inside of your thigh.

It drags out slow, as if not wanting to at all. Like it likes the feeling of your messy, cum filled cunt all wrapped around him. You feel that swollen cock head through your folds again, slowly pushing up and down your clit, teasing your slit. A finger, and then another glance over your asshole— lovingly. Softly. Massaging the twitching rim before burying it’s hard cock between your cheeks, slapping you with it.

“No more,” you plead, voice small and broken and pathetic, “Please, I can’t.”

Another chuckle rumbles through its chest, “Ok sweet girl,” there’s a hand on the back of your head, stroking curly, damp, surely tangled hair, “Such a good girl.”

Hands are back on your skin again, fingers pushing and pulling, adjusting you on the mattress. You’re flat now, splayed out on your belly, legs spread, hands shoved underneath your pillows and head. Balmy skin, puffy flesh is soothed by slow gushes of breath, making you jump and whine more— whimper more. The bed sinks again as it moves, pulled again, your back up against a massive chest and hard stomach.

It wraps around you, slinging an arm and a leg over you, enveloping you in its warmth. Rids your face of the wetness, pushing the remaining tears away with its thumb. Nuzzles in close— a scratchy cheek against your own.

A heavy hand over your heart.

“I like this,” it says soft, tapping along with your heartbeat, “The rhythm.”

You hum again, happily fucked out and cock drunk, already feeling an ache settling into your muscles and bones. Hips and ass push back into its hips, pushing its dense cock against you— wanting to feel it resting against your cunt, “You got a name?”

“Brarthronoz.”

“Excuse me?” you giggle through a deep yawn as your eyes flutter.

It— he nuzzles again, pushing his face closer, “Bucky is fine, pet.”

“Bucky,” you sigh a little, “I like that.”

You fall asleep with the soft rhythm of his breath against your neck.

-

When you wake, he’s gone— but you kinda figured that anyway. The oranges of the sky and rising sun chases away all the shadows. You go about your routine but a little slower— inflamed, throbbing arms and legs make showering and brushing your teeth a little harder this morning.

You look for him though, in the corner of your little kitchen, in that small spot where the sun just never quite reaches.

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth when you find a pair of bright blue eyes fixed on you, a little wink encouraging you further.

“Toast?” You ask cheekily, a wide smile on your face as you offer him a plate.

[screadingchallenge]

Behind the Keyboard Volume 29

Behind the Keyboard is a series of interviews with different Schitt’s Creek fanfic authors. The series will last as long as there is interest (from authors) and capacity (from me). If you are an author from the Schitt’s Creek fandom who would like to participate, send a DM to this account.  

Each author was given ten questions. The first five questions are the same for every author, the last five will vary.

Let’s meet our next author:

@fictasticvoyage / coffee_and_glitter

How many fics have you written?

I have 44 published works, and a notes app full of ideas, song lyrics, and gibberish!

When did you publish your first fic on AO3?

I published my first work on April 16, 2021 and never looked back.

Describe your writing process from “Oh, I have an idea” to pushing publish on AO3. 

I get so many of my ideas from songs I hear, so a lot of those start with listening to that song over and over.  They don’t necessarily turn into a songfic, but I do love those.  I like the fests and prompts I’ve done because I can take someone else’s idea and put my own spin on it.  I also love doing location research for my setting- I’ve given myself the travel bug more than once this way.

Anyway, many of my works are fairly short, so once I start actually sitting down to write I just bang it out if I can.  5+1s, which I am a huge fan of, take a little more thought, usually I start a doc with a list of what the parts are and then sometimes go out of order writing them.  Once something is done, I reread it like 4 times in a row  and then ignore it for a couple days before I give it one last look over for editing and then I send it into the universe when I hit post.

Tell me about your most recent fic? What do you love about it? Is there anything you think you could have done better?

My most recent was Watch Me Unravel for the Rare Pairings fest.  It’s about Patrick and Alexis, and I adore any time people write about their sibling-ish relationship!  I see a lot of myself in Patrick, and think I write him pretty well, especially in daily life kinds of things.  As far as ways I could have improved this one, I might have gone a bit further into David’s reaction at the end, but maybe not, because I wouldn’t want to take away from the Patrick&Alexis of it all.

What advice would you give to someone who’s thinking about publishing their fic for the first time?

DO IT!!!  I think a lot of us write based on things going on in our own lives, sometimes to help process things, sometimes just to reflect on things, and maybe writers think ‘oh who wants to read about this dumb thing that happened to me?’ but I promise we do! In fact, that personal element of writing what you know often leads to a more authentic voice for your characters, so it may just improve your writing. At the very least, it will get things out of your own head.

What is the favorite scene you’ve ever written?

In my fic The Promise of a Coming Day, there’s a bit where Patrick accidentally asks David out and then gets all nervous and starts backpedaling, but David ‘makes it all okay’ and I am really proud of the dialog in that bit.  Actually, that’s one of my favorite fics that I’ve done. It's set on a boat in West Palm Beach, and I’m very excited to write the follow up, as soon as all these fests are done!

What parts of writing are easy for you? What parts are hard?

I think the easiest is writing dialog. I sometimes overthink the more descriptive parts and think they get too wordy, but as long as I can stay in the character’s headspace, their dialog comes pretty easily.  The hardest part for me is the first and last couple sentences.  I often feel like my fics just throw the reader into the story and then out too abruptly, but when I try to rework those parts, they get too messy and it seems obvious, like I’m just adding random words.  So then I just go back to the original way and try to let my doubts go. I’m generally happy with them by the time I publish.

Tell me about your current WIP if you have one.

Right now I’m working on my claim for Passions and Pastimes.  I don’t want to say too much but it’s food related, but also with lots of family feelings as well.  I must have a theme- last year’s Passions and Pastimes I wrote about Patrick making homemade ice cream for the town contest! No ice cream this time, though. [Editor's note: This is Comfort Food, published last month.}

Alexis is trapped in a drug lord’s palace and you have to convince her captors to read your fic in order to free her. What’s your best sales pitch for your favorite fic?

Probably my favorite thing I’ve written is More Than Words.https://archiveofourown.org/works/32782474 , a 5+1 with Patrick playing guitar for David. SO… “Please, Mr. Drug Lord, let my friend go!  I have this delightfully sappy story for you, but really it’s a bonus because it’s actually six stories, and there’s some Ed Sheeran in there, and a really sweet bit about David when he’s sick, but there’s a bit with some Taylor Swift, and… oh, you’re a big fan of Taylor, well, this is perfect for you, you just take it and enjoy it!  OK, Lex, he’s busy, let’s get you out of those zipties and get the hell out of here!”

What’s one thing that you’d like to say to your favorite Schitt’s Creek character?

I’m not sure he’s my favorite, but I’d love to tell Ray that it’s so awesome how he is just absolutely his unapologetic weird self, and into all his crazy business endeavors, but also a really good friend and I love that!  Oh, and Ray, I’m working on bringing your girlfriend Felicia back again, so you’ll be seeing some action soon!

[turtle-go-brrrr]

Scratch my shell, I scratch yours

A/N: Heya! So remember two posts ago where I said I wouldn't write fics because I'm not confident enough in my writing to post it? Yeah, me neither. I started writing this at 6 am because I couldn't sleep and kept working on it during the day, so enjoy ^^(I got a little tired at the end, and i think you can feel it ;w; hope it’s good enough anyway!)

Also, I’m a sucker for platonic intimacy, and there is a severe lack of platonic x reader in this fandom

Fun fact: the Shell is both the Dorsal (part on the back) AND the Plastron (part on the front).

Requested: No

Pairing: None, platonic

Word count: 2500 +

Triggers: None

Summary: You make an embarrassing suggestion that they surprisingly accept.

_____________________________________________________________

The idea came to you in a random conversation you had as you sat on their couch.

"But wait, you can really reach everywhere? Like if I touch here-", you point to a crevice in the middle of his shell. "You're telling me you can bend your arm enough to get here?"

Leonardo gently takes your wrist and pull your hand away. "I mean, we have some of those telescopic scrubs to help, you know? Or we can just ask each other to get to the hard places if it's really complicated."

Oh.

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense."

You have been asking a few questions about their shells after Raphael started showing off some of his scars, fascinated by the intricate patterns you could see on your friends. The topic of cleaning has be brought up, and as your curiosity took charge, your brain decided to embarrass you as much as it could.

"Do you think I could help?"

Only the faint background music Mikey had set up earlier could be heard as your mutant friends looked at you, eyes wide open.

Oh, that came out wrong.

"Wait, that's not what I-", you start to explain your line of thoughts when you get interrupted by the smug look Mikey sent you, as he harbored a teasing smile.

"Oh? I didn't realize that's what you meant when you said you wanted to hang out more," he wiggles his eyebrows as your nervous laughter fills the room.

"Hold on, I can explain."

Silence again.

"Oh, you're actually listening?"

"I mean, I think we're all dying to know why on earth you'd want to take a shower with us. You're not usually this upfront with your affection," Donatello chimes in. He's not even looking at you in the eyes, but doesn't really try to hide that stupid smirk.

Bastard.

You take a deep breath, trying to focus on not letting the embarassement take over, but your voice shakes imperceptibly, and you can feel youself start to sweat. Great.

"Okay, so I was thinking : you guys always do so much for the city and never get anything in return. I remember Mikey told me that you guys love shell scratches, and now I can see that you have some trouble cleaning it, so maybe I can help with that ? Kinda like a massage sort of thing, it doesn’t have to be weird if no one makes it. Now obviously we’ll be wearing swimsuits, we’re not close enough for… you know… actually taking a shower together, " you try clearing your throat discretly. You hear a muffled laugh from Raph.

"Anyway, I think Casey knows where to buy the best animal care product. I think human stuff might not be suitable for your shells, and I read somewhere that water was the best way to clean a turtle shell anyways, but if you have suggestions just let me know what you usually use. Do you even have swimsuits ? Doesn’t matter, I’m sure we can find you some-"

As you rambled on, the slight shame started to wear off and you were able to explain your line of thoughts more clearly. The awkwardness of the situation seemed to settle down, even if your friends were absolutely going to tease you about it later. Leonardo seemed hesitant, though.

"I don’t know, man. Are you sure about this ? I don’t want you to feel like you have to. We can take care of ourselves, you know."

"I’m not gonna force you if you don’t want to, I’m just offering because I want to do something nice for you guys. You can’t really take a break, but you could at least relax a bit."

"I’m up for it." You didn’t expect Raph to agree so quickly, but maybe you should have anticipatd that as you look at the bags under his eyes. "I mean, the worst thing that could happen is falling asleep while getting a massage from a friend. Kinda sounds like a dream if you ask me. "

‘Well that was easy,’ you think as your face lightens up.

"Besides, we can laugh at them for wanting to shower with us. Didn’t think you’d want to be so intimate, " he purrs as he gives you a side glance.

Oh. Bastard number two.

"Alright. Sure. You know what, fair game, " you laugh it off. Mikey puts a reassuring arm around your shoulders as Donnie places his legs on your laps.

"We do have swimwear, so you don’t need to worry about that. And you were right about using only water to clean it, as human products tends to make us itchy afterwards. There are some types of oil we use sometimes to nourish our shells, however. I think the only thing we might need to look into is new brushes. The ones we have are, hum, barely hanging on."

You send a quick text to Casey and April to let them know about the plan after making a short list of supplies with Leo, who ended up agreeing.

It didn’t take that much convincing.

____________________________

Saturday came fast. After getting all the necessary supplies with Casey, you both made your wait to the lair to join April. They had both agreed to help you in your task, because 'damn, they really need some appreciation'.

"When do you think they'll be back?" You ask Splinter as he offers you a cup of spiced tea.

"Usually around one in the morning, unless they were delayed."

Unless something went wrong.

But those dark thought quickly faded away as you heard the faint echo of Mikey's laughter as he recalled their night. Light chatter filled the room as they took off their gear and put away their weapons, and April hushed them to get changed and take a quick shower so they could get started and finally have some sort of a break.

You could see they were excited as they each went their own way, waiting for their turn to the shower.

When you live in the sewers and try to turn it into a living space, you have to do what you can with what you have. And sometimes, what you have is a large space that you can turn into a huge bathroom, with multiple showers and a large bathtub; but what you don't have is privacy. So big communal bathroom it is.

In this specific case, it's a good thing, because it means you can all chill together as you get to work on their shells. Once everyone was settled in, April motioned them to sit on some of the chairs you put up. She opens the bag Casey and you brought and starts getting the multiple brushes and bottle out.

"You have to understand that you guys are, uh, gigantic. So try to stay at our level, okay? And stay put, please. Anyway, here is what we've got for you: there are multiple brushes - one of each type for each of you - and some are harder than the others. Don't worry, we'll try not to scrub your shell off of you," she winks at that, and holds back a laugh at Raph's worried expression.

She continues. "We also found the oil Donnie told us about, and we bought multiple bottles. You'll have a stack for next time." She then gets one last bottle out that she puts aside.

"That one is for Splinter. To make his fur all soft and shiny," you butt in with an innocent smile. The old man deserves a treat too.

Casey laughs at that and says, "So, there's tree of us and four of you. Who is okay waiting for his turn?"

Silence.

After a solid minute, Leonardo sighs and volunteers to let his brothers enjoy a well deserved spoiling session. Mikey, instead of sitting on a chair like a normal person, choose instead to lay down on the bathroom floor.

"You said it was basically a massage, right? Now it really feels like it!"

"Oh, good idea. I'm this close to getting a pillow and having the nap of my life," Donnie says, putting his fingers together.

"Your fingers are touching."

"I know," he gives you a side smile as he starts to get up, but you quickly bring him back to reality. "But there's gonna be water everywhere?" You sit down next to where he just was and watch as he goes back to where he sat, sending you a disapproving side glance.

"Let a turtle dream, will you?" He lays down on his stomach, puts his head on his arms, and scouts closer to you.

You watch Raph get settled on a chair next to Casey, putting his arms on the backrest as April hands you one of the harder brushes. Leo makes a quick trip to the kitchen and brings back some water, a few snacks, and a copy of Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne.

"Again," you start. "There's gonna be water everywhere. Are you sure bringing a book here is a good idea?"

He gives you a sly smile. "Gotta live up to my name."

What?

"What?"

"You know," Mikey interrupts. "Fearless."

"Oh. Right. Well, don't come crying when you drop it into a puddle then." But you offer him a plastic bag anyway, to hold his book with it in case he wets his hands.

"You sure you're okay waiting?" Casey asks him as he starts pouring water over Raph's back.

"Yeah, don't worry. I have things to keep me busy anyway."

______________________________

It took one swipe of the brush from April for Mikey to start... what was the word? Churring.

A low rumble coming from his throat that had kind of the same function as a cat's purr, Donnie explained. It was an expression of contentment or happiness, that sometimes even happended when they needed reassurance.

Adorable.

"I can't believe you guys can purr and never told me." Raph doesn't even bother opening his eyes when he answers you, "We knew you'd take advantage of that. Didn't want to be babied by the tiniest human we ever met."

Asshole.

You went back and forth with the gruff turtle, always in good spirit though. Conversations flowed, laughter were exchanged, and everyone managed to lighten up. Master Splinter joined the group at some point, and was just glad to spend some time with his family - all of it. He also started to take cared of Leo’s dorsal, to his delight.

You don't exactly know when, but some time after Donnie started to let go some soft churrs as you scrubbed the dirt off of his shell, you stopped listening to the current topic and started to really focus on your task.

Scrapping the dirt hidden in between every crevice, rubbing the largest scales, you were surprised by the look of the bare shell of your nerdy friend. You never really stopped to observe this particular feature the four brothers harbored, not only out of decency, but also because it was always covered. Gear and clothes, backpack and tech, dirt and blood, there was always something hiding the intricate patterns of their shells.

You unconsciously slowed down to really take in what you were seeing, your fascination and curiosity taking over your wish to help.

"I don't know why, but I never expected your shell to be so colorful," you say after wiping away the dirty water from the left side of his back. You didn’t mean to say it at loud, but he doesn't answer you. However, you do get something from Mikey.

"Man, you should see mine! Don helped me create an organic paint so I can paint my shell without hurting myself with a bunch of chemicals, and it looks sooo damn good-"

"Shh!"

"... Did they- Did you just shush me?"

"Shhh!" You whisper yell this time. You then give a side glance toward the sleeping turtle under you.

"Annw. Good luck waking him up."

"Yeah, I'm... not doing that. He needs his sleep," you laugh quietly.

______________________________

It took the three of you around an hour to deep clean their shells. Even Raph was finally letting go and softly churring at the end. Mikey was loud enough to have trouble speaking, and Donnie was still asleep. Splinter was still working meticulously on his son, who, he could tell, had a hard time holding back the content churrs that threatened to spill out.

You get up and strech, feeling your joints crack and already anticipating how sore you’ll be tomorrow. The muscles in your arms were burning, and you couldn’t feel your butt anymore, but it was worth it. You’ve never seen the four mutants so relaxed before.

Remembering the oils, you went toward the towels to dry your friend’s back and give the final touch to, what you’d grow to refer to, your work of art. You gave a few head scratches to Raph, who was dozing off with a lazy smile, and went back to Donatello. You slowly dried his dorsal when you felt him shift under your hands.

"Hey buddy," you speak softly. He whispers a ‘hey’ you can barrely hear.

"I’m almost done. I just have to put the oil, then you can let it dry and go to sleep, okay ? " You open the bottle and get a paintbrush, with which you start coating his shell with a thin layer of oil. You can hear his soft churrs start again.

Casey accidentally dropped the bottle of oil on Raph’s back and was desperatly trying to gather as much as he could. "Shi- Fuck, wait-"

"Here, give me some. Thanks to you, I don’t have to open mine, " April said with a smirk. She helped him clean up before going back to Mikey, who raised himself on his forearms and watched the scene unfold with a tired smile.

It took only around twenty minute to put the oil on their shells and get it almost dried up. Once it was done, you helped Splinter and Casey clean up as April let her dizzy friends hold onto her, guiding them on their way to their room. Once it was all done, you waved Leo good night as Raph ruffled your hair and went to sleep. Mikey gave you a big hug and thanked you for the ‘bonker idea’ and made you promise to do it again soon, which you agreed on.

April was already sleeping in the big armchair next to the couch, Casey in a sort of little nest of blankets and pillows at her feet. As you made your way to the couch – your makeshift bed for the night – Donnie was passed out cold on it already. And, boy, does he takes up a lot of space.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and turned to see Splinter standing next to you. "I’m sure he wouldn’t mind you borrowing his bed for the night. "

"I– are you sure ? "

"He stole yours. He’ll live. " A gentle smile tugged at his lips as he guided you to your friend’s room, offering you a spare blanket and pillow. "Have a good night, Y/N. You know where to find me if you need anything."

”Thank you, Master Splinter.” You can feel your eyelid close on their own, and decide to finally call it a night. You got settled as best you could in the bed, and fell asleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

A warm breakfast would await you in the morning.

[datawyrms]

snap

It is The Day I post my Invisobang fic! it was a wild ride to write everything and not post. This is actually the second fic I did, as the first fell into my pit of ‘i hate it now’ and will sit in limbo for the rest of eternity. I teamed up with Spirit ( @ghostportals ), who has done some accompanying art! That, and Red @redead-red saved my bacon by doing some betaing last moment, so tell em they’re great too. Hope you’re all enjoying the flood of finished fics and art this week! Only the first chapter is here, the rest is posted on my Ao3 and complete. hope you enjoy!

One careless fall changed Danny's life forever. He was kind of hoping one fall like that was enough for any lifetime. Clearly fate disagreed.

It's fine though! He's got this. He's fine. He can totally explain why he ran off with his own body to mom and dad.

The stairs had always been a little too steep, a titch too narrow, but he was used to them. Jazz worried too much- the whole Fenton family knew how to take them two steps at a time. He wasn’t going to admit she might have a point just because he’d slipped one time. He wished there was a railing to catch himself with- it would have spared him some of the pain of his head knocking on the stair.

It didn’t hurt that much. Plenty of ghosts hit harder, and far more frequently.

“Took a bit of a spill eh, Danno?”

Great, dad saw him slip like he was three again. He wanted to speak, wave his behemoth of a father off before he got tangled up in some long lecture about whatever they were working on down here. Just had to sit up.

He was a little stunned or something. All those late nights made his limbs rebel when he wanted them to hurry up. Come on, before he tries to help and accidentally shaves his hair off with some anti-ghost stepladder or something.

His arms stubbornly rejected his internal horror story. His attempt to say ‘I’m fine’ was more a gurgle than anything. Way to go, Fenton. Do everything to get dad to worry! Really using those genius genes. Jazz probably stole his anyway, or they got fried in the accident. Come on! A bit of self berating should have him sitting bolt upright by now. Maybe his arm twitched. He felt something move, anyway. More like a muscle spasm.

“Danny? You okay?” The large man came closer, his usual jog slowed.

Of course he’s fine. He could see dad, sort of. He totally moved his eyes to see him better, even. Stupid ghost powers were just acting up.  It’s okay,  just give me a second to stand up. You’re worrying over nothing.

 Jack had already made it over, crouching to get a better look at his fallen son. Like he was trying to look smaller or something with how carefully he was moving. Where was all that slow, ginger movement when he was driving? Or trying to tell them about some new invention that might burn off your eyebrows?

 I’m fine, dad. He couldn’t get the words to come out, but he was just fine. He really didn’t like the strange look on his father’s face. After all, ‘Jack Fenton doesn’t know the meaning of the word fear’ or whatever random thing he felt like shouting when chasing after entities from another dimension. Come on dad, stop looking like that. It was creeping him out. Moving should be easy, a snap, but part of him didn’t feel like doing it. Apparently an important part? He could visualize exactly what to do, but he wasn’t sitting up. He swore he could feel his muscles clenching but not finishing the movement. Maybe they were testing something down here that just made all the ectoplasm hiding inside him take a nap. His ectoplasm was so fired after this.

 “Can you look at me kiddo?”

 Coaxing him. This was weird. Why wasn’t he just hauling him off the floor and laughing about how clumsy he was at his age too? Looking at him was easy. Pretty hard to miss him, with all the bright orange.

 “Maddie? Can you come over here?” His question was strangely stilted, not much of a bellow.

 Dad was going to get the wrong idea because his body didn’t want to cooperate. Great. Fantastic. He could feel the warmth in his chest, the sign his heart was still going. He was just fine, just a bit inconvenienced at the moment. Why couldn’t dad just be  dad  and do something dumb like pick him up with one hand while sounding way too excited about some new tool that he built?

 “What’s wrong?” His mom said, her footsteps doing the same thing dad’s had. Speed that suddenly cut down to almost nothing. “Danny, did you hit your head?”

 “I think he might have, he’s not responding. I didn’t want to try to move him-“

 “You did great Jack, it’s okay.”

 Gross. He hoped they didn’t get caught up in one of their lovey dovey circles while he was stuck trying to get his stupid legs to remember how to do things. He was responding! He groaned, and he definitely twitched a bit. Weren’t they paying attention? He tried again, a bit more forcefully and ignoring the pang in his neck. More of a jolt from someone with too much static cling than actual pain, really.

 “Should I call 911? He isn’t moving! He just stayed there- didn’t even act all tough for his old man!”

 Jack was panicking.  Dad was panicking. Over nothing! Why wasn’t mom distracting him with fudge or some random study? No one was being normal today. Danny shuddered, he knew he did, it went with the pulse under his skin.

 “That’d be great sweetie, just stay close.”

 “In case you need my big strong arms to help carry him, right?”

 “Just in case.” She wasn’t wearing the hood of her jumpsuit, at least.

 It didn’t make it more comfortable when she crouched down, biting her lip and staring at him. Like this was concerning. It was the opposite of that, he was a klutz, a gangly teenager, it was normal for him to be a bit banged up. This shouldn’t concern her, or anyone. The only reason it bugged him was the not being able to move right now nonsense.

 “You aware in there sweetie?” she said, rather loudly and clapping near his ear.

  Yes I am, but I can’t tell you. Maybe he could focus on taking a breath and it would kick off whatever turned off his mind to body connection. Had he done anything strange before coming down here? Not really. He could absolutely feel her digging her nails into his earlobe though, ow! More motivation to move, but something wasn’t getting across. Maybe he was getting a bit freaked out about it too. Only because of his parents being weird. He was fine, he had to be fine. It was nothing, less than nothing.

 “I’m just going to make sure he’s still breathing Jack, do you have anyone on the line yet?”

 A loud response, but not to her question. “No it’s not a ghost emergency! It’s a human emergency!”

 Of course he was breathing. He couldn’t look that bad from such a small fall. Just breathe out the words ‘Hey mom, personal space’ and they’d laugh and it’d be nothing. All this fussing was making his skin crawl but of course he had to have ‘special ghost freezing up’. Was it his ice powers? Like he could get his powers being snarky like that, appreciated it in a twisted sort of way- but it would be better around people who wouldn’t assume the worst? Like anyone else. Even Dash.

 “Tell the operator he isn’t breathing.” Maddie’s voice was cold and controlled, even as she went back to biting her lip right after.

 He was totally breathing. He could feel the air that ran in and out of his lungs, the swell and fall that other ghosts knew as a weak point, a way to slow him down. He knew what being doubled over, air shoved right out of him from a harsh blow felt like, how it felt like the portal again. Throat twitching, body heaving and trying to regain what it lost. The darkness that bit at the edges of his vision as every nerve went screaming  You’re Dying . Hated that feeling, shook the ghosts who did that hard once they were in a thermos. This was nothing like that.

 “He isn’t breathing, you need to hurry! My wife knows CPR- just tell them to hurry this is my  son , please”

 Yelling to hide the quaver in his voice. Like a kicked puppy yelping. It sounded so wrong. This was going to be so awkward after. They’d just...pretend this never happened, right? That’d be for the best. No, he was going to get grounded forever for some ‘dumb prank’, since he was fine and worried them so much. Which didn’t seem too bad if it stopped all of...this.

 He moved a little. A toe, he was pretty sure. More notably was his mother, carefully getting him off the uneven stair to be flat on his back. Trying to keep his head from moving, and she couldn’t see he was looking at her? When she was this close? Too busy trying to be calm. Who could be busy enough to think he wasn’t breathing or tracking with his eyes? Another twitch, another inward curse that he couldn’t get back in control.

 “Just hold on, help is coming.” She said, but the half ghost couldn’t tell who she meant, exactly. Him, dad or herself? Either way the quiet remark did not prepare him for the sheer force slammed into his crest. Like she wanted to slam right through him! Was it so much to ask that his parents stop nearly killing him by trying to help? Just try moving again and everything will be fine.

 He couldn’t keep the mental mantra up when he heard- when he felt his ribs crack from the pointless force. She was killing him, he didn’t need help breathing, he had to get it through to them no matter how much his body buzzed and resisted his need to move. He had to focus and push through it, ignoring how cold and wrong it felt, how it seemed like he was squirming free of something that didn’t want him to go.

 Her bone crushing assault stopped once he got his arm up, not even needing to touch her before she froze. The fear was wrong, out of place so he redoubled his efforts, twisting and struggling against himself, the sticky mass that wasn’t letting him act or speak to calm them down.

 The phone hit the floor. He heard it. So why didn’t dad say anything? Danny twisted, wanting to make sure he was okay. Still stuck. At least he had a hand free and most of an arm, the edges of his fingers tracing the tiles of the floor. He could brace himself that way, pushing down hard to try and jar his shoulder loose. He could hear air moving, like a harsh breath out. Good- breathing was good. Even when it sounded so harsh and low. 

 “Jack- are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Maddie moved back, giving him the space he wanted ever since she’d cracked his ribs. They still stung under his skin, hissing at him to keep his parents away before he managed to get even more injuries over something so silly.

 “I’m not sure what we’re seeing.” The phone remained on the floor.

 That didn’t seem right. He’d sat up, mostly. Half sat up, propped up with an arm. Still mostly stuck and uncomfortable, the snapping and crackling sensation still clinging to his free shoulder. Really, he felt worse than how he started. at least there wasn’t pain in ‘hah my body is playing freeze tag without me’ land. The pulling sensation made his head ache and vision swim to the point he wasn’t actually sure if he was still looking at the ceiling or not. He couldn’t go back to just being frozen though, that’d suck. So just convince the rest of himself to get up. No problem!

Were lies in his head always this unconvincing? It felt like yanking himself free of a too sticky slime, strands clinging and tugging back until they finally snapped, parts still stuck but free of the main mass. At least ectoplasm had the decency not to stretch when you got drenched in it most of the time.  Come on, focus and keep it together.  He let out a wheeze as the last stubborn strands snapped, ignoring how loud it sounded to properly reorient himself.

 Sitting up, properly, good! Parents staring with weird, half horrified expressions: bad. Very, very bad. 

“I’m okay, I just fell.” Danny spoke, he could speak properly again. So why? “Sorry for scaring you guys?” He tried again, trying to ignore the first thought across his mind.

 They kept staring. Maddie seemed to be recovering, shoulders starting to relax, but she seemed to be reaching for her belt.

 He didn’t sound right. No, that wasn’t quite right, he just sounded wrong for Danny  Fenton. Who he should be right now, he hadn’t been able to talk, let alone go ghost. This probably looked really, really bad. How had he switched, anyway?

Mom was reaching for a gun, wasn’t she? Crud. Now he regretted talking at all, how was he going to explain why Danny Phantom was treating two ghost hunters like his parents? Or how he managed to look like their kid. Maybe he could change back and convince them they were seeing things?

Yeah no, that was way too dumb.

 “Wait.” Jack rested a hand on his wife’s shoulder, causing her to stop pulling the weapon. He wasn’t looking at the ghost at all, just her. Maddie remained stiff, not able to ignore the glowing kid on her floor.

 Okay...dad was usually the gung ho one. Maybe he could get away with this? Danny tried to get a better grip on the situation. Felt a new pain, sharp and cold in his throat. Deep green scars clashed against his white gloves and ran all across his jumpsuit,  glow intensifying as the panic choked him into silence. Fresh and angry like back- back before he managed to stumble out of the portal when he died when the accident happened.

With his human arms just as scared below them, still against the tile. The damage looked old, half scabbed over with only a dull glow deep in the death marks wounds. His arms attached to the rest of his body- that he was half out of. 

 Why? How was his body still and silent while he was sitting and looking at it. He’s cold. His body is cold. It isn’t  breathing  there isn’t some other facet of his personality sitting behind the dull blue eyes. This isn’t how it works! If he splits, it’s just temporary, he can fix it but his other half- corpse is wrong.

The pulling and clinging at his legs doesn’t feel like slime anymore. Rotting flesh that wants to drag him back, smother him in a cloying warmth that will only remind him why it burned, how it hurt. He had to move, he couldn’t stay half like this, it would get better once it wasn’t like this.

It didn’t want to let go as he tried to pull away, ectoplasm getting snagged on every nerve and muscle fiber, each pause a reminder of the shock and pain of his end that day.

He knew he screamed when he pulled free and slammed into the wall, furious green scars still marring his jumpsuit where there should be none.

 What would Mom and Dad think?

 No no no no no. He spotted movement from them and acted. He couldn’t let his mom break his body more, or look at it too closely. Dad couldn’t see what happened! This was fine, he could fix this!

 He grabbed his corpse and fled through the wall.

[banigarubug]

Boys (Corpse x MALE!Reader)

VERY excited for this prompt! here is where i acknowledge corpse irl is straight: (pause to acknowledge). and here is where i write a piece of fiction that corpse has expressed he’s ok with!

-

Please do a Corpse x male!reader - if you write for males but if not then GN will be okay ^^ - where reader is very edgy, wears techwear 24/7 and is taller than Corpse.

I’m not seeing enough male reader/GN fics where the reader is just as edgy if not edgier than Corpse—

you met corpse at a gas station, but he’s still cute. no corona ;)

warnings: minimal food talk, maybe swearing but i can’t remember lmao

-

The day you met Corpse had you both stopped in your tracks.

Well, admittedly, Corpse was more so. You pride yourself on being able to keep it together, but Corpse has always been a dweeb who just tries his best - and often fails - to play it cool. This was obvious from the moment you’d met him, literally bumping into him at a gas station as you were both on your phones walking towards each other.

Your phone survived the accident, but Corpse’s clattered to the floor. You tore your eyes away from your screen as soon as your bodies made contact and immediately picked up his phone from the floor. “I’m so sorry,” you said, inspecting his phone. It’s fine, save for one long crack across the top left, thankfully missing the front camera entirely. You handed it to him, and finally noticed him staring up at you with wide eyes. “I’m sorry,” you repeated, confused.

He cleared his throat. “All good,” he replied, voice muffled just slightly by the fabric mask over his mouth. It’s deeper than you’d expected, and you startled a little at it, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Uh, it’s my fault too.”

“Well, you know,” you replied, shrugging. “There’s no place like twitter dot com.” You quirked a smile as you flashed your phone, displaying the Twitter timeline open on the screen. 

He laughed, opening his phone to show that he’d been on Twitter too. “Uh, I’m Corpse,” he said.

You smiled at him, maybe more bashful than intended. “Y/N,” you replied, sticking out your hand to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he said, and as your hands met, a blush threatened the outer corner of your cheeks. His hands were… really nice. “Even if you broke my phone,” he teased.

You laughed, already feeling the tension between you two melt. “You’re just as much to blame here, Corpsie.”

As it turned out, your cars were parked next to one another’s at the pumping station, so you walked there together. You talked the whole way through picking up an armful of candy as he got a collection of energy drinks apparently for him and his friend Dave, and you kept talking while you finished putting gas in your car. And then you kept talking afterwards too, until Dave reached over and shouted out the open car window, “Dude, just ask for his number already!”

You grinned and Corpse blushed. “I’m sorry,” he said, turning to you, but you shook your head, still smiling at him happily. It was cute. “Look, if it’s too forward, I’m really sorry, but - I don’t usually get along with people this easily. Maybe we could… do this again?”

“Sure,” you agreed easily. You told yourself it’s only because you didn’t mind it, not that it was too hard to say no to that hopeful look in his eyes and that you didn’t want to forget how cute he sounded when he laughed. “Give me your phone.”

“You might crack it again,” Corpse replied, but he handed you the phone anyway. You rolled your eyes as you typed in your number, adding a heart next to your contact name.

-

A week later, after texting and calling and FaceTiming nonstop, finally he asked you out. He took you to get boba, and you had dinner at his place, and when he dropped you off at yours, he stood on the front porch, only a few inches between you.

“I had fun tonight,” you said. There was something exhilarating about it, how he craned his neck to look at you, eyes scanning over your face nonstop like he was trying to read something off of your skin. To break the tension, you softly added, “Even if you did keep making fun of my pants.”

Corpse laughed, a breathless thing. He reached out to pull at one of the straps hanging down, letting it fling back gently against your leg with a dull smacking noise. “I just don’t get why there’s so many straps. And pockets.”

You leaned in. You told yourself - and later, him - it was because you wanted him to shut up about your stupid pants, but you and Corpse both knew the truth.

-

When Corpse asked if you would be his boyfriend, you got the upgrade: access to the streamer room. You’d known, in your dating period, that he was an ‘internet personality’, as he very vaguely described it, but the lack of details he was willing to share discouraged you from sleuthing around on the internet. Of course, when he finally let you in a little more, thanks to his million followers, you blended in. Nobody knew that you, the random account simping in his replies, was the same guy whose hand made its way into Corpse’s Instagram stories more than once.

Your favorite thing maybe ever was seeing when Corpse posted pictures of him holding your hand. Most of the time, you didn’t even notice him taking the photos, but it was sweet, how your nails matched and he had sweater paws while you had tattoos. Even as a faceless YouTuber, it meant something to you that he was still proud of your relationship. His fans got a kick out of it too, nicknaming you Corpse Boyfriend.

But now, the real boyfriend test. He invited you to stream with him while he played Phasmophobia. You would talk to chat and ghosts as needed, and Corpse would do most of the heavy lifting. Of course you were nervous, but you never let on about it.

Well, Corpse knew you pretty well. When he asked if you were sure you were ready, and you said duh, bro, of course, he said, “Don’t bro me.” (He still kissed you though.)

“Corpse Husband, did you bring Corpse Boyfriend?” Corpse read aloud from the chat while they were waiting to get started with the game. “You guys have been hearing rumors? Well, lucky you, I did! I want you guys to meet N/N.”

“Hey,” you said, smiling at Corpse. “I wanna start my presence on this channel by telling all two hundred thousand of you that I’m taller than Corpse.”

“That’s the most important thing?” Corpse laughs at you. “You’re like, maybe two inches taller.”

“Don’t lie to your fans, Husband. You’re at least three inches shorter.”

“Two,” he insists playfully. “And that’s the hill I’ll die on. Boyfriend.”

-

A few days later, when Dave comes over to hang out, you make him measure the two of you and force Corpse to post the lines on the wall as evidence. Three inches, he captions. Boyfriend wins :(

[henqtic]

heyyyyyy okay so, i’ve never actually done a sleepover type thing for any milestones or anything like that just because it seemed like a lot of work + i was super scared of no one really interacting because i didn’t have that much of a following but now that i’ve missed many opportunities and i wanna make myself feel better about going back to school— i’ve finally decided to :)

personally, i love back to school, the grwm videos on YouTube, buying new supplies and stationary, getting my hair and nails done, seeing my friends in person on a regulus basis again, finding a new hallway crush, even getting into some of the new work— just everything back to school that doesn't involve excessive assignment and those kids that shout that you’re talking too quiet when you’re doing a presentation (hate them)

going from august 28 — september 6 closed !!

(extended date// closer to the day i go back 🤧)

who/what fandoms i write for | i’m trying to expand my masterlist so feel free to request for any character from those fandoms listed and i’ll try my best :)

navigation post | to see which fandoms i’m in for ships and headcanons !!

all can be sent to my ask box—!! hope you enjoy this going back school dialogue themed sleepover <3

🚍— “honey you need to get up, the bus might come early.”

cym! | send in any thing and i’ll cast my mutuals based on it, flowers, quotes, shoes in my closet— anything

🛌— “just give me two more minutes.”

blurbs! | send in a character along with a prompt/trope/any general ideas you have and i’ll write a blurb on it— no limit on these for now because school is starting soon and writing short things will help me procrastinate work

prompt list if you need help with ideas, please specify which list if you decide to use one !! ✎ kisses. touching. hand holding. wordless ways to say i love you. casual affections.

🗣— “girl look, dude in the white tee, he’s fine right?”

ships! | send me some facts about it you— these could be random from what milk you prefer, favorite day of the week, hair length/type, favorite color, hobbies, something incredibly dumb you’ve done and other things like that (no need to include all of that, it’s just suggestions lol) and i’ll ship you with a character from whatever fandom/s you want :)

*please include your gender preference if you have one and preferred pronouns— incase i end up writing some type of drabble/headcanons

🍽— “the foods bad but at least we get a break.”

headcanon discussion! | send me any headcanons you have of any character or opinion (sfw pls) and i’ll either add onto it or agree/disgaree with it

📖— “can you believe we can’t just sit around and read wattpad all day?”

fic reviews! | send me anyone of your fics (sfw) and i’ll comment my thoughts on almost every single paragraph like i would on wattpad

📰— “did you read what was in the school newsletter?”

wips! | send me this emoji with a number 1 — 200 (dude i know) and get a sneak peak at that draft/work in progress

🗞— “yeah, i don’t get how they think we’ll make friends by stuffing us in a hot gym though.”

talking! | my life is extremely boring so feel free to talk about anything in yours 😁 ajshaaj but seriously, if it’s like a crush you can’t get off your head, something you want to get off of you chest, complain about, gush over, generally talk about because you’re excited/happy about it— i’m here to listen <3

my lil message or whatever 

a few weeks ago i realized i like never mention my follower count on here and honestly, i kinda like it because i feel like not knowing makes it better you know ?? only referring to my blog because i absolutely love when people celebrate theirs and seeing all the different themes and things they try out, it’s so cool— this is just my own person preference lol

but anyways, i feel like i haven’t appreciated y'all enough because of that so i just wanted to say thank you so much for all the support and growth on this blog in only about eight months of being here

as cliche and overused as it sounds, i never expected to get to 100 followers but now we’re at three zeros like hello my bank account has never been that high— my love for y’all can not be expressed in only a few words but let’s just say my heart grows so many amounts from it,, kisses for all of you <33

tagging some of my incredible mutuals who made tumblr better <33— @kpostedsum @dracodear @mvdbldd @ameliasbitvh @l0vely-lupin @natashxromanovf @silverdelirium @cupids-crystals @selenesheart @eunoniaa @destourtereaux @gothboutique @ur-local-reality-shifter @mullthingsoverinthehotwater @dreamcxtcherr @draconisxcaput @desiredmalfoy @sarahisslytherin @mellifluousart @harmqnia @mendesxruel @babydraco04 @dracosathenaeum @dreamy-clousds @el-imaskingforyourlefthand @holden-caulfield @gxtitobxby @ang9lic @arcaneslut @fredshufflepuff @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @magicchai​ @maybanksslut​@dracossweetprincess @buckysbiota @disartrous @ladyvesuvia @gwlvr @amourslover @with-love-anu @pogueslandia @mauvea @hellounicorn @rosaliepostsstuff @slvt4fakerealities @velvetcloxds @messrsmoonee @eloquenceflores

sorry for anyone i missed, i hit the 50 tag limit— if there was an @mutuals button, i would've pressed that. i appreciate all of you + the people who took the time to follow me and read my fics even when they were terrible and now thinking of them makes me want to run away 😩🤌🏽

here’s all of my love: 💗💞💖💓💝💘💕💗💞💖💓💝💘💕💗💞💖💓💝💘💕💗💞💖💓💝💘💕💗💞💖💓💝💘💕💗💞💖💓💝💘💕

[liighty]

Guzma babysitting Reader’s Niece

(A/N): BACK ON MY BULLSHIT AGAIN! BUT THIS TIME IT’S NOT ALL THAT SELF-INDULGENT AND MIGHT POSSIBLY BE TURNED INTO A SUPER FIC IF I FEEL LIKE IT

In all honesty i’ve thought about making another largeass super self-indulgent Guzma x Reader mega fic, but I’m not sure if I want to? I don’t know if anybody would read it, so that’s what this post is for!!! If you like this and want to see actual Guzma x Reader with plot and not just fluff drabbles lmk!! I have a bunch of asks to address so maybe i’ll get to that too soon

Anyways, back to the fic.

Mini Summary: (Y/N)’s niece needs to be babysat while (Y/N) is interviewed, so they turn to Guzma and crew to help out for a bit. Chaos ensues.

Rating/Triggers: UH drugs are mentioned but not really? THE KID DOES NOT DO DRUGS!!!! but yeah if that makes you uncomfy i’d be careful with it??\

Pairing: Guzma/Gender Neutral!Reader (I used the honorific ‘Titi’ which is gender neutral for ‘Tia’ or ‘Tio’ [extra thanks to Ocha_Bocha for helping me with that one <3] and tried to make it as gender neutral as possible. Originally this was written with a male reader, and then I went female, and ultimately attempted to eliminate gender completely. [Following the footsteps of Splatoon teehee])

Fic under cut!!!!!

"Are you sure this is a good idea, honey?" You clutch your niece's hand as you approach the large walls that separate Po Town from the rest of Ula'Ula Island. It's not that you don't trust the man who you're leaving her with- in fact, those two have been acquainted previously and seem to get along fairly well- It's his friends who you're concerned about.

"..." Her silence is expected, as the kid isn't all that talkative. Recognizing the young girl's silence, you frown. 

"You can stay in the office lounge if you really want to. I know you aren't the biggest fan of crowds, and um- Guz has some pretty loud friends-" Your explanation of what to be expected is quickly interrupted by a blue haired young man decked in black and white clothing. "Yo yo, what's with the kid?!" 

You arch a brow. You knew that Guzma worked with kids, but this guy couldn't be any older than 15! "I could say the same for you. I'm here to talk to Guzma-"

"Ya mean the boss? Why would some random chick want anything ta do with the leader of the Team Skull, huh?!"

A pink haired girl dressed in the same outfit walks up to the boy, crossing her arms. "Shut it, ya clod. Don't you remember the conversation we had with Boss yesterday?"

Hearing this, the blue haired boy's eyes light up in an epiphany. "Ohhhhh shit- Right-"

"Watch yer fuckin' language around the kiddo." She lightly smacks the back of Dansei's head. "She's in good hands, ma'am."

Another pink haired woman, this one being someone you finally recognize, walks in and smacks both of the delinquents in the head once more. "You say that after cussing, Reese?" 

Thank God. Plumeria. "Hey Plumes-" You smile weakly, waving politely with your free hand. Your niece does the same. Another young man, this one much shorter than the first and with green curly hair scrambles after Plumeria, jumping up and down to be seen. "Sorry about these numskulls. I'll lead y'all to the big boss man, yo. No worries at all, so you can chillax!"

I'm regretting this more and more by the second.

The crew starts whistling some hip hop tune as they make their way to the Shady House, the smaller boy beatboxing. You've taken this time to offer a piggyback ride to your niece, who's politely declined. Are all kids like this? Or is it just her?

Once they approach the boss, Guzma immediately jumps out of his chair, his signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "Eyyyyyy! (Y/N)!!! Kiddo!! What's up, homeslice?!" He hops down the stairs and crouches so he can get at eye-level with the young girl, offering his fist for a pound-it.

She bumps her fist against his, smiling just a bit. It's more of a reaction than you expected, at least. "S-sup, Uncle Guzma-" 

Looks like his slang is rubbing off on her. That's cute.

"Thanks for droppin' by, Doll. No need to worry about Little Miss Troublemaker over here, I got it all under control." He picks up your niece and walks over to you, pressing a looooooooongass smooch on your cheek. The other Team Skull members all make mini comments, like "Ewwww-", "Grosss-", and "Cooties-", causing Plumeria to once again smack their heads together. 

You roll your eyes, unable to stop the smirk on your face from growing any further. "Not in front of the kids, Guz." "Ah, right, right- My bad." His shades slide onto his face, hiding the bright red blush that had crept onto his cheeks. "Well, you should probably get goin', ey? The Aether Foundation's one lucky company to have you interviewin' for a position."

"Dork." You boop his nose, then your niece's. "Call me if you need me, okay honey? I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Okay, Titi (Y/N)-" You smile at the nickname while the others snicker. 'Titi' sounds an awful lot like 'Tittie', and considering three of the 7 people in the room are immature teenagers, there's definitely some laughing going on in the background. Plumeria looks very tired. How does she deal with these kids all the time?

"Alright, I'll be back. Don't light anything on fire, okay?" You yell as you walk off, feeling a slight hint of unease at the idea of leaving your young niece with so many delinquents, even if it's just for a few hours. It'll be fine, though. Guzma's there to keep them from doing anything stupid.

You laugh at the thought. Who am I kidding? He's probably gonna be the one who explodes something first.

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

The interview itself wasn't all that bad. You're fairly certain that you either aced it or put yourself up for consideration, which in itself helped your confidence just a bit. With the absence of Lusamine and the arrest of several of her chairmen, the foundation was very antsy and in need of someone who could handle the Pokemon Observation department. With your background in medicine and PR, you were rationally on the list of potential replacements, and despite your initial resistance, learning that the company would be run by somebody that WASN'T the manipulative little bitch Lusamine gave you enough comfort to accept the offer for the interview. Was it just an offer or an invitation? You weren't quite sure, but Wick was very insistent on you showing up.

Either way, you're pretty certain you got the job. Good on you. 

You can't help but wonder how your niece is doing, surrounded by so many troublemakers. As you make your way to the entrance of the Shady House, you can hear loud music, causing you to feel a small tint of anxiety. She'll be fine.

You walk up to the door and creak it open, the smell of burnt… whatever the fuck that is flooding your nostrils. Of course. They lit something on fire.

"Guz??" You call out to the empty room. "Plumes? Anybody home?" As expected, there's no response. You start to feel more and more anxious the more ground you start to cover. Where are they? Peeking your head around the corridor, your anxiety comes to its peak when-

"And that's why you should never do drugs, aight?"

H-Huh?

Your niece sits on Guzma's knee as he bounces it up and down, his signature shit-eating grin plastered on his face like usual. Awfully burnt cookies sit on the table, explaining the smell from earlier, and Plumeria seems to be asleep with the other team skull grunts. Are they… napping? Seems like it. 

She nods enthusiastically, taking a bite of a charred cookie and grimacing shortly after, causing the two to both laugh in unison.

"Doesn't matter if it's just for recreational purposes, you could still get hooked, and that's the last thing we want!" Grinning once again, Guzma pokes her forehead.

Hypocrite. You're reminded of the first time you two had kissed, which happened to be shortly after you both had blazed a couple of joints. It's enough to get you laughing, though.

"Huh?! What're you doing here so early? Don't tell me ya flunked THAT bad!" Guzma's eyes widen, a genuine look of bewilderment painted on his face.

"I did not flunk! I think I did great!" You huff, crossing your arms defiantly. "It's suuuuuuuper comforting that you thought I failed, Guz."

"Nononono I was joking!! Right, kiddo??" Your niece quickly nods. "See???? No harm, no foul!"

Arching a brow, you walk up to the two and pick up the young girl. "Mhmmm. Did you have fun, honey?"

She nods again, unable to contain the grin on her face. "Uncle Guzma told me about his Pokemon training! And I got to ride on Golisopod's back!" 

The large bug type pokemon bops up and down upon hearing its name, prompting a smirk from Guzma. "Yeah, I told ya I'd take care of her. She's welcome back anytime, okay?"

"Thanks, Guz." You peck his cheek, and your niece sticks her tongue out, closing her eyes. 

"Icky cooties!!" Where the hell did she hear that? The only people you can think of who'd say such a thing are in the other room snoozing, so- Yeah, actually, you know exactly who taught her that word.

"Well, I'm gonna getchu with my cooties! And my tickles!" You raise a hand menacingly, wiggling your fingers with one eye closed. She immediately curls up, not out of fear, but out of excitement. It's nice to see her so happy again.

After a very long tickle session, you quickly glance at the large grandfather clock, noting the short hand of the clock slowly approaching the number 8. Shit. "We gotta go, kiddo. Your dad isn't gonna be all that happy if we get home any later than 8:30. Besides, it's past your bedtime."

"I bet Uncle Guzma stays up past his bedtime-" She yawns. "Can we stay for a little longer?"

How can I say no to that face? You find yourself incredibly conflicted. Do you tell her you have to leave anyways? Or do you stay and risk getting in trouble by your brother-in-law?

"Eh, as much as I'd love to have you over for longer, kiddo- Look at your Titi (Y/N). They look exhausted."

You smile gratefully at the comment, glad that it doesn't have to be you to tell your niece to go home. "Yeah, I'm beat. We can hang out some other time, okay? I promise." You pat her head and get ready to leave.

"Aww… okay. Bye, Uncle Guzma!! Bye Golisopod!" She holds your hand, and the two of you eventually walk your way back to the car. As you drive away, one thing lingers in your head. You can't think of anything else, in all honesty.

Guzma's great with kids. I should've expected as much, but… I'm glad he gets along with my family.

Your stomach rumbles at the intersection. I'd kill for some malasadas right about now- 

Okay, maybe you CAN think of something else.

[otp-holic]

The one place (where something happened) (A03)

“In your life there are a few places, or maybe only the one place, where something happened, and then there are all the other places.” Alice Munro. (or the one where they receive a letter from a familiar name and we go into 4Ks of fluff around a lost afternoon in France)

4K. Lamely explicit at one point. Fanfic + Pictures Inside. Trigger for FLUFF as the main plot. Part of the Never let us lose what we have gained series (AO3)

This was supposed to be a manip with 200 words of bantering and it's now 4Ks of fluff with a few pictures. I've decided to leave them inside the cut because I feel they work better with its context there. I'm sorry for the hassle, but I really hope you give this a chance... unless you have cavities, only like fics with amazing plots or are allergic to shameless fluff.

Please do not repost the pictures, I know this is futile, but… I try :)

DAGUERROTYPE, France 1944 Private Collection.

Steve is cooling down from his very early run, enjoying the feeling of the pink sunrise looming over the awakening Brooklyn streets as he walks the last couple of blocks on the way home, when his phone beeps.

“Check your actual mailbox, we dropped something for you there. I think you should appreciate us making it old-fashioned just for you, grandpas!”

Steve smiles at Sam’s text and as soon as he arrives at their building he snaps a picture of the very common and flat envelope with “Barnes&Rogers” scribbled on top of a Stark Logo, to send along his response.

“Nice try, but this is inaccurate. A letter would have never made its way to us without an address or stamp. We’ll send you a proper thank you card to show you how it’s done.”

He can’t help but chuckle at his own joke rereading the text while he opens the door, and when he looks up from his phone and into the kitchen, he is received by a sleepy Bucky looking at the coffee machine like he looks at Steve during their most soft and embarrassingly cheesy moments.

“You love that thing more than you love me, confess it.”

“In the mornings? Yes. I don’t even like you in the mornings most of the time,” he answers matter of factly. “Want some?”

Steve playfully wiggles an eyebrow.

“No way. Your sweaty self is tempting, but coffee smells better. I might join you in the shower later.” Bucky offers him one of the two cups he has poured and he notices the envelope Steve is holding. “What is that?”

“We’ve got mail!” He hands it to Bucky. “I have no idea what's on it, but Sam texted me to say they had something delivered to our mailbox and there it was. Open it.”

Bucky leaves the cup on the counter, face sparked with a curiosity that makes him look twenty-one (and Steve weak on the knees), and goes for it.

The content is a bit underwhelming at first glance: Another envelope, white, no Stark logo, but topped with a bright green post-it with a note on Pepper’s script.

“This got to me via PR. We analyzed it and checked with the source (no peeking, I swear) and it seems legit. With that return address, it’s likely to arouse your interest. Love, P.”

Bucky tears off the post-it and the letter is revealed to be addressed to Steve Rogers at the Stark Tower, but it is when they turn it around when everything goes still for a second.

The return address is some street in Marseille, but what has Steve’s mouth dry and Bucky’s hand trembling just a bit is the combination of the place and the name written on top: Emmanuelle Jaques Dernier.

“Boom?”, Bucky says, trying to cut through their heavy hearts and taking Steve’s hand. It’s a terrible terrible joke, but Dernier would have loved it and he grins.

“That’s a terrible terrible joke,” Steve verbalizes, “but I think at least we’ve reached the same conclusion.”

“Elementary, my dear Steve,” Bucky answers as he opens the second envelope, only to reveal a folded letter and yet another envelope. “It’s a fucking vault of paper!”

Steve takes the letter from him, unfolds it, and quickly scans it (normal office paper, printed, hand-signed) before he starts reading it out loud to Bucky’s undivided attention.

“Dear Mr. Rogers,

My name is Emmanuelle Dernier and I am the great-grandson of Jaques Dernier of the Howling Commandos.

First, let me tell you that we all in our family grew up with amazing stories and praise for you, Sergeant Barnes, and the rest of the team. I never got to meet my great-grandfather or any of them (you), but I’ve always felt like I did.

In fact, that’s the ultimate reason behind this letter: I ached to honor him and I’ve been putting in order all his remaining letters, pictures, and memories so they don’t get lost forever, and there are many things I’m discovering through this journey. So many pictures and tiny details… and amongst them, you and the rest of the Commandos appear at the most random and memorable moments. Nothing that’s going to make it into history books, more like the stories my grandpa used to share with us over and over again, those important tidbits that make him more human.

Anyway, I was going through the pictures he kept when I came across some war photos that didn’t seem to match the 40s timeframe. Typical daguerreotypes from the 20s in a very bad state, probably taken with a camera from the era in 1944 and developed on a later date by somebody who clearly didn’t master the technique.

They were in a very bad state and hidden inside an envelope that said “Terribly drunk soldiers in France making idiots of ourselves in unique and creative ways. Fun evening, horrible hangover. About 20 miles west of the Maginot Line. Autumn ‘44”. I’m attaching a photocopy of that, I hope you can understand my decision to keep the original.

After restoring the daguerreotypes with some experts, all I got were five very bad pictures with silhouettes of people apparently having fun…. but there was one that got a lot better in the cleaning process that feels important somehow. I’m sending the original, as well as the restored version I got.

I, of course, don’t have the whole context, but I hope it brings back a good memory. My great-grandpa might be in the picture, but I don’t think this one belongs to my family or to a museum.

Thank you for your service, I really hope this letter finds its way to you.

E.Dernier.”

“I can’t believe… Steve, most days I’m convinced that day and that place are a figment of my imagination,” Bucky smiles, remembering. “When I think of a moment of pure joy during the war, I think about that afternoon in France, and it always feels unreal. A bubble of air and laughter while we were so surrounded by death.”

Steve nods, reminiscing about that warm and humid September morning when they arrived at yet another abandoned and destroyed little village, this one about twenty miles west of the Maginot Line. They had orders to lie low and wait for twenty-four hours before they started the maneuver to wipe another Hydra base off the map, and that little town was perfect for that.

Among bomb debris and fallen walls, they found one small building miraculously standing next to the remains of the church, so they decided to set camp under a roof for a change since the weather was being a little flickery with the rain, and they had the rare luxury of time.

The inside of the tiny house was as unusual as the outside: nothing was destroyed beyond being dusty and worn by time, and everything they found (furniture, kitchenware, and even fabrics) belonged more to Steve and Bucky’s early childhoods than to 1944, a living museum frozen in time.

Only it was not a museum, but the parish house left untouched and non-raided: old-fashioned clothes, outdated church books, yellowing clergy collars, and, of course, the wine cellar. Oh, that wine cellar… the havoc it unleashed.

“I remember the absolute excitement when Falsworth found all those bottles of old unscathed mass wine from the parish,” Steve brings his memory to words, looking at Bucky, “I’m still a little convinced that we are going to hell for drinking them.”

“Not for that, probably, but it was a wonder nobody died on the spot of wine poisoning, it tasted like sweet vinegar, ugh.”

“But it did his part, right? Took our minds off things; got us drunk, bold and silly.” Steve answers.

“Apparently not all of us,” Bucky says very seriously, looking at Steve.

“Technicalities… I got drunk by proxy. Seeing you all so happy made me giddy and tipsy, too.”

“I came and went… I remember being a little surprised at the clarity of my thoughts at some moments there when some of the guys were basically drooling on the floor. Now I understand, of course.”

Steve squeezes his hand, not much to be said there.

They were already way too drunk by the early afternoon, drinking to the sound of a sudden rainstorm pouring outside. All of them scattered across the small dusty living room and its adjoining kitchen while they went through all the bottles of wine they had been able to find. Cheering for the foregone priest every time somebody raised a glass, and laughing as if there were no ruins or war on the other side; just silly men (boys, really) laughing their hearts out.

“Earth to Steve… I don’t know about you, but I’m dying to see what the hell that envelope is hiding. Especially now that we know about its time stamp.”

“I’m sorry, me too! Gabe drunkenly handling that old camera and those glass plaques the way he did? I’m honestly impressed that he was able to take any pictures at all,” he muses. “Shit, is it weird that I’m nervous?”

“I’m gonna save us the bantering because I’m nervous, too,” Bucky answers in all sincerity. “Truth is, Steve, I remember everything about that day.”

It’s a new admission, a newly opened door for them because for some reason, they have never talked about that peaceful surreal afternoon, and Steve nods in recognition as he silently goes for the envelope one-handed, not wanting to let go of Bucky’s hand because his surface is way cooler than his wrenching insides. Maybe the picture is an overexposed french wall but maybe…

The photo he extracts from the envelope is clearly the original and damaged one Emmanuelle specified in his letter. Anybody else looking at it would see nothing beyond Dernier’s blurry profile, but since Steve and Bucky were there when this was taken, they know exactly what moment Steve is holding in his hand.

“Buck,…” is all Steve can say, struck by the blurry keepsake.

Later in the afternoon when they had already consumed most of the wine and there was not a single coherent thought left in the room, one of the guys took the parish books and besottedly announced that there was a wedding set for today… thirty years ago. Alcohol fueled a goofy idea that escalated at the speed of light, with Morita saying they were going to a wedding because they deserved a celebration, Dernier confessing that he had once considered becoming a priest, and Dum-dum bringing out all the old fashioned clothes from the wardrobe and deciding they were getting nice and clean for the festivities.

“That’s clearly Dernier in the picture killing it in his priest role, right?” Bucky says, half smiling and interrupting Steve’s thoughts. “You know, I went all-in with that fake wedding party. I was laughing to tears when I saw you put on that ridiculously long and ill-fitting jacket from the 10s, feeling weightless and silly for the first time since sailing off, and God knows we all deserved that. And it was all safe and light-hearted until fucking Morita decided you had to be the groom, and...”

“Were you jealous because I won the dashing groom competition?”

Steve’s attempt at a joke is weak, but there’s truth behind it: Morita chose Steve as the groom (“Cap, you are the most dashing and the least drunk”) to a chorus of excited voices cheering for him. Somebody else, most likely Dum-Dum, chose the rest of the roles (Sarge, best man duty; Jones, camera; Morita, keep the wine flowing; the rest of you, misbehave!) and in the blink of an eye, they were all going outside laughing under a light rain, and about to celebrate Steve’s fictional wedding to nobody.

“How could I be jealous?” Bucky cuts in. “Do you remember all you said to me that afternoon? During World War II and in front of a battalion of men?”

“I was drunk.”

“Fuck you!” Bucky disentangles his hand from Steve’s to use both of them to hold Steve’s face and kiss him with violence. “Tell me. Do you remember what you said?”

As if he could ever forget. He can recall every step he took from the house to the makeshift wedding spot amidst the trees where his best man (looking dapper even in that ludicrous jacket) was laughing along Dernier. He can still smell the petrichor, can still sense the blush coloring his cheeks while hoping nobody noticed and can still hear the beating of his heart when Bucky handed him a battered umbrella (“You don’t deserve to get rained on your wedding day, punk”) and a fucking ring made out his shoelaces (“You’ll have to buy something a little more permanent.”). And then…

“Dernier started the ceremony and he wanted to know if I had somebody in mind and I said ‘of course’.” He replays, his voice barely a whisper. “I said I’d had my eyes on a brown-haired Brooklynite since before I could remember. I said that I was pretty sure those blue eyes were set on mine too and that hopefully those eyes would be set enough to want to marry me even if I had never dared to ask.”

He’s been holding Bucky’s gaze the whole time, and he’s far from over yet, but he needs to fucking breathe before he goes on. Neither of them has moved a muscle for the past minute.

“Then he asked me to repeat the wedding vows after him and…”

“And you said Buck, right?”, Bucky interrupts, voice winded. “You fucking whispered I take you, Buck, as my lawful wedded husband till the end of the line. I heard, Steve. Even if the rest of the world didn’t, I did. But you never said anything, so I always deemed it impossible, a product of the corniest nook of my mind trying to outweigh all those bad things, because not even you could be as bold, reckless, and mushy as to do that,…it’s my fucking fault, I should have known better!”

“Not completely reckless, pal. I was scared shitless as I said those words, but what else could I do? You were right by my side about to put a ring on my finger as my “best man”, everyone, including you, supposedly drunk past recollection, and everybody else too far away to hear my whispers. It was such an easy choice in the end because truth should always win over fear. And those vows were. The truth.”

“You have always been too honest for your own good, Rogers,” Bucky is breathless and exasperated and goes for his mouth again, bringing in all he (they) couldn’t in 1944. “You destroyed me, Steve. My knees were as weak as a teenager’s in front of his first crush. I wanted to kiss you so badly when I heard you say all that there in the open… and I couldn’t even acknowledge it.”

“I know. And for what it's worth, I really thought you didn’t remember.”

It is too much. Is it normal to feel this much? Steve would blame it on the serum enhancements, but he was already overwhelmed at 16, so that’s clearly not the answer.

He craves, no, he needs touching, grounding, closer. Bucky. There’s too much space between them even if they are back to kissing like they would have that day in 44, and at any other time if their own lives wouldn’t have stolen those moments from them.

“It happened.” Bucky whimpers, biting on Steve’s lip who abandons his own stool to straddle him, both of them gasping in sync at the feeling of their cocks, hard against each other’s through their soft pants.

Bucky soon ups the stakes by carding his metal hand through Steve’s hair pulling his head backwards to help himself into that spot on his neck.

“Same two moles as when you were tiny, as when we were at that war... Your cute vampire bite. Favorite spot.” He licks on them with the tip of his tongue. Steve growls on cue and Bucky giggles. “Favorite chain reaction.”

“Buck, you cheater, you know what that does to me!” Steve cries out followed by Bucky’s evil chuckle.”Bed, couch, countertop,…I don’t care, but naked. Now. Stained pants due to heavy petting are too much of a trip down memory lane for me. Let me keep a bit of my dignity.”

Steve stands up liberating Bucky from his grip but aching at the loss of contact.

They are naked and making out in the middle of the kitchen in no time; Bucky steadily pushing him against the refrigerator while fiercely grinding against his crotch.

“Hey, ‘teve,” Bucky pants. “The way this is going, it’s my dignity now that's at risk. I don’t think I can make it further than the floor before I come.”

Steve groans into his mouth just at the thought and they start sliding to the floor the best they can until he’s a human blanket moving over Bucky. With no lube at hand, and no time, that’s their best option.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, his hands not leaving Bucky’s sweaty hair. Bucky’s hands on his ass, forcing their groins closer with one while he (almost absently) plays around his hole with the other, driving Steve crazy in the process. Dicks left to do their own thing through pressure and friction. Everything is working. And fast.

“Oh, fuck!” Bucky exclaims “Can you promise me all this stuff with the letter was real and not a long-con plan to assure your fragile masculinity that I love you more than I love that espresso machine?”

That. That silly unfunny excuse of a joke that screams Bucky all over is what pushes Steve all the way over the edge. He fucking laughs as he comes making absolutely embarrassing sounds, pressing their foreheads and noses together until it hurts, and shaking from head to toe without stoping his pressure on the stupid and smug man under him. His lover. His partner. His unofficial husband. His best friend.

His Buck.

“There’s still too much blood in your brain if you can play that dirty,” Steve states, placing one hand between them grabbing Bucky’s hard cock. “Let’s see if I can do anything about it.”

“Your hand, usually so helpful, but I was already following you after that sound you make when you come and laugh at the same time, shit, it always goes straight to my dick, I’m,…” he keeps talking with difficulty between breaths and moans until he leaves his speech unfinished coming all over Steve’s fist.

They kiss on the lips breathing into each other before Steve rolls over. They are sticky and panting in silence, spread on their kitchen’s floor, Steve’s shoulders crushed between Bucky’s and the dishwasher. Domestic bliss at its most literal.

One lavish fuck and two showers later they reemerge into the kitchen in search of something to eat: Bucky is in charge of the food today, while Steve cleans the mess they left a couple of hours ago.

He’s decluttering the counter when their damaged picture laying there puts a smile on his face but also reminds him of the restored version presumably still waiting inside the disregarded letter, so he grabs the envelope to retrieve its contents: one photocopy (from Dernier’s original writing), and the promised photo.

And it is restored. Everything is clear where it was blurry before: Dernier (so deep into his priest impersonation that he’s not even looking at them), the trees, the battered umbrella, the ridiculous jackets… and them.

“You had the nerve to call me reckless and mushy, Buck?” Steve laughs as he stares at the picture where a very young Bucky is about to put a ring on his finger with the least subtle lovestruck expression he’s ever seen (“and it’s for you”, his brain proudly reminds him) “Wow, you might as well be kissing me there, anything would be more subtle than this!”

“Don’t shame me, you punk, especially not when you were the one responsible for breaking my brain back then!” Bucky answers coming from behind and stealing the picture from his hands to scrutinize it. Goofy grin and raging blush quickly taking over his face. “But you’re one to talk, Cap. You are gazing at that shoelace’s ring as if I were handing you a diamond tiara!”

Steve laughs softly at that and moves his right hand to his pocket, feeling the weight of the little compass he had retrieved earlier from one of his drawers. He used to carry it with him everywhere for comfort, but he has a better option now.

“Didn't you know that shoelaces are forever?” He asks, taking the compass out of his pocket and holding it in both hands as he opens it, nudging Bucky with his elbow to get his attention.

Bucky is confused for an instant while he looks at his young face staring at them from inside the little box. Of course he knew that (he made fun of Steve for days and days) but Steve detects the change in his expression when he notices the other thing.

“Wow, you gigantic sap,” Bucky says, taking the compass out of his hands to double-check he is seeing what he thinks he’s seeing. “You saved my shoelace.”

He had. While they were all celebrating his wedding under the rain dancing to no music, he quietly slipped the little string off his finger and tied it to the most secure place he had back then.

“It’s not a shoelace, you jerk, it’s a symbol. A declaration.” He laughs, stealing the compass back to safely pocket it again.

“You are delusional,” Bucky snorts, kissing the top of his head. But he’s widely smiling and lost in thought as he goes back to their sandwiches.

Steve stays on the spot enjoying the peace in their silent companionship, his focus on the latest news showing up on his phone, the text he’s writing to Sam and the comforting sounds of Bucky moving around the kitchen.

“You might have married me, but I never actually married you.” Bucky blurts out of the blue a bit later, sitting by his side as he hands him a plate with a sandwich and some grilled greens on it. “Do you want mayo with that?”

“Uh?” Steve forgets all about the news and the text and looks at Bucky in confusion.

“Mayo, do you want some?” Bucky repeats nonchalantly.

“No mayo, thank you; but I was actually more interested in the other part, you know, that thing about marriage?”

Bucky looks him in the eye: earnest, blushing and with the same look of smug adoration he had on the picture.

“Oh, that part.” He jokes. “You apparently married me in 1944, but I never married you back. And I would like to.”

“Marry me?” Steve asks and Bucky visibly nods.

“I’m sorry for throwing the idea at you like this, books tell me I'm supposed to have candles, music, and a ring, but you showed me that restored picture and I couldn't stop thinking about it, about proof,” Bucky speaks uncharacteristically slow and very softly, voice trembling here and there while he claps his hand with Steve’s finger by finger for reassurance and as a distraction. “A single photo had the power to transform a moment that existed just as a made-up happy place inside my mind into something tangible and real. Something that would be tangible and real for anybody getting a hold on it and looking at our stupid faces.”

“So stealthy,” Steve says, and they both laugh together.

“Proof, Steve. I was slicing tomatoes and thinking how there’s so much evidence, thousands of files! out there proving that all the stuff that fuels my nightmares were real, but nothing solid about this. Us.” Bucky stops for a moment collecting his thoughts, still smiling even with the heavy subject he just dropped into the mix. “Sorry, I believe I put more time into these sandwiches than into thinking this all the way through so I’m…”

“Take your time, we’ve gone from mayo to marriage to nightmares in five minutes so don’t worry, you have me hooked here.”

Steve makes Bucky laugh again as he intended, and he feels their calloused laced fingers immediately squeezing closer.

“It’s stupid because it doesn’t change anything for us but,.. I don’t fucking know, Steve, I think that picture has messed up with my mind! I instantly found comfort in the idea of people finding facts beyond the nightmares now or in the future. An easy to understand, universal and oversimplified proof of how much I loved you and how much I was loved in return.” Bucky takes a breath and stares at him sporting a million-watt smile. “Marrying you,… I would really love that. And for real this time.”

“Ok, Buck.” Steve instantly replies, eagerness winning over thoughtful and heartfelt declarations. He tightens the grip on their joined hands to drive them to his lips and seals the easiest answer he’s ever had to give.

And it's done!Sorry for the cavities, for going on with the fic when it should have ended and for ending it where it might have had to keep going. It was painful and fun. I'm free!

[slimy-vore-bog]

(Un)Necessary Evil

Disclaimer: all my work is meant to be non-sexual N/SF/W interaction is not appreciated

Okay, so a few warnings for this story... I try to go into the topic of the fear of death as deeply as I can. It could be way worse, but just as a warning, if you’re not ready to be reminded of death at the moment, give this story a skip.

For the more casual stuff that’s usually uncomfortable for safe vore people: this story contains mentions of hard and fatal vore, but none happen.

Oh, and as always; this is an Owl House fic.

Actually this is a rewrite of this old story that I didn’t post to tags called A Betrayal of Trust (But a Necessary Evil)

The two are very different and this is definitely a better story.

Anyway, I should probably just get onto the story... Oh wait, this story is set before s2 ep2 Escaping Expulsion. And obviously post that a lot of stuff will change, but I don’t feel like creating an entire canon divergent AU

Ao3

Word Count: 14k

***

I wonder why Amity wants to see me now… Luz stood in the market place, looking around for her friend. We’re going to meet up later anyway. She spotted the green haired witch in the distance, feeling a burst of excitement. I guess I don’t mind seeing her one more time before later today! She grinned, before she waved for her. “Hey Amity, there you were!”

Luz stopped herself, just as she was about to run towards her. Something seemed… off about her. She looked sad, as she stared back at Luz. “You are Amity, right?” Luz suddenly felt embarrassed. Please tell me I didn’t mistake some random person for Amity.  

Luz didn’t know whether she should feel relieved or more worried, when her friend nodded.

Luz hesitated, before she decided to run up to her. “I almost thought you were somebody else!” She smiled brightly at her, but Amity didn’t look at her. “Um,” Luz felt a little awkward, “so, why’d you want to see me now, instead of later?”

Amity glanced up at her, before quickly looking down into her bag. “I wanted to give you something.” She fiddled around in it, seeming to get more miserable by the second. “It’s really important that you wear this later, okay?” Amity looked up into Luz’s eyes.

Luz felt a bit shocked by Amity’s seriousness about this. “Why? What do I have to wear?” Why would Amity force her to wear something? This is weird. She didn’t like feeling forced to do something.

Amity looked unsure, as she dropped the thing she was holding back in her bag. Her eyes flicked around, as she grabbed her own hand, nervously fidgeting with her fingers. “Well…” her eyes widened, as she grabbed the thing out of the bag. “Sorry, I focused on your first question!”

Luz watched, as she brought out a necklace with multiple yellow gemstones on it. “Woah!” Luz exclaimed, suddenly feeling like she had to study it closer. “Is it glowing?” The gemstones on it seemed to be giving off a dim yellow light from them. “What makes it glow? Is it a spell? Or are they magic rocks?” Luz brought her hand out to take it, before she remembered that wearing a mysterious glowing necklace sounded like a horrible idea. “But, wait, why do I have to wear it?”

Amity curled the chain around her fingers, glancing around again. “Well… uh…” she let it fall through her fingers down in her other hand, as her brow furrowed. “It’s…” she hesitated again, looking a bit more frustrated. “It’s just really important to me that you wear it, can’t you do it for me?” She held the necklace out to her.

Luz hesitated, “I don’t want to sound suspicious of you, but…” she trailed off unsurely. “It’s just…” She wrapped one of her hoodie strings around her finger. “Are you sure it’s safe? Where did you get it from?”

Amity looked even more frustrated. “I promise it’s safe, just take it already!”  

She held it out to her, and Luz reluctantly took it out of her hands. “Sorry…” Luz opened the clasp, putting the necklace on, feeling a tiny jolt run through her body. Luz didn’t understand how she could feel it, or what she felt, but she was pretty sure it had to have a strong spell in it. Or Amity had a really weird and unsettling way of pranking. “I just don’t get why it’s so important.”

Amity looked away from her again. “I’m sorry too… I don’t want-” She quickly glanced over at Luz, before she turned around. “I’m just sorry…” She began walking away, before she turned to look back at Luz one more time. “See you later…”

Luz didn’t know what to do, “Uh, yeah! See you!” She lifted her hand to wave, but Amity had already turned around.

The glow of her necklace caught her attention, as she looked down to the ground. She picked up the biggest gemstone between her fingers. She had to admit; it was a pretty necklace. I wonder what makes it glow like that? She held it up to her face, watching it in awe. It’s really cool. She did a little jump out of excitement. And it wasn’t actually bad!

She suddenly felt even worse about her distrust of Amity. I’ll apologize to her again later today…

She let go of the necklace, as she turned to head back to the Owl House.

¨¨

Luz hated waiting; being patient wasn’t exactly her strong suit… But that didn’t change the fact that there were still a few hours until she could see Amity again, and she couldn’t come up with anything to do. Maybe I can talk to King for a bit? She was pretty sure she had seen him napping on the couch, but he might have woken up.

She went downstairs to check, but he hadn’t.

Luz thought about waking him up, just to make up for the times he had accidentally done it to her, whenever he unconsciously poked her with his sharp horn. But she decided that was a little too mean of her. She carefully sat down on the other side of the couch, resting her chin on her hand, tapping her foot against the floor.

I wonder where the others are? She looked around the living room, but there wasn’t anybody else in there. Strange, Lilith is normally in here… She was starting to feel a little too restless. I’ll go look around.

¨¨

She looked around the house, both inside and out, but she couldn’t find anybody anywhere. Well, except for Hooty, but she didn’t really feel like talking to him. Ever. She shook her head, not wanting to think about all the weird stuff she had seen him do, before she sat down on the couch again. Maybe King knows where they went?

She watched the tiny demon for a few moments, trying to decide if she should wake him up or not, before his fur bristled along his tail. “Stop staring at me, creep…” He mumbled, barely opening his eyes. “That’s the sixth time I’ve caught you doing that.” The look in his eyes told her that he definitely knew there were the times he hadn’t caught her.

Luz flushed in embarrassment. “It’s not my fault you’re so cute!” She shook her head. “But that’s not why I’m staring.” She pulled her legs up on the couch, as King stretched. “Did Eda and Lilith say where they were going? I haven’t seen them since I left to meet Amity.”

King yawned, before his eyes widened in surprise and he got up. “What’s that?” He pointed to Luz’s necklace. “When did you get that?”

Luz fidgeted with the necklace, as soon as he pointed it out. “Amity gave it to me.”

King reached for the necklace, but Luz pulled away. “I wanna see it!”

Luz didn’t want him to touch it. It’s mine; Amity gave it to me. “You don’t use your hands-” she cut herself off, before King even made a face, “-paws, to see.” Luz wasn’t sure it was as wide of a statement in the demon realm as it was back in her own, already King having paws was different, but that didn’t change that he specifically didn’t.

King scowled, before he sat back down and crossed his arms. “Some demons do, you know…”

Luz let go of her necklace. “Well you don’t…” She thought a little about seeing with paws and hands. I guess blind people do that in a way? “And some humans do too, but that’s a blind thing.” She shifted around, before remembering that this wasn’t what she wanted to talk about. “But, I still want to know if you know where Eda went?”

King moved a paw up to his snout, as he thought. “I’m not sure… I think she might have gone to the market to get something?” He shrugged, “she left some time after you did, anyway.” Before Luz could even ask, he answered her next question. “Lilith went with her, if you were going to ask.”

Luz nodded. “So we’re home alone?” she crossed her legs, looking over at the door. “Well, except for Hooty, but he is the house…” Luz stared over at the door, expecting him to butt in, but Hooty had been a lot better behaved, since Lilith and him had become friends. “So, is there anything you want to do?”

King’s tail wagged. “Let’s watch something together!” he jumped up on his legs. “Something violent! With lots of blood! I think I know just where we can watch something like that!” He was already running to get the crystal ball, before Luz could make another suggestion.

¨¨

Luz didn’t care all that much about what she and King were watching, but she liked that he was having fun. It looked like it was a monster movie of some kind, not as bloody or bad as she was scared it would be, but still a tiny bit more violent than she liked. It was at least not as weird as some of the other movies she had watched.

One time, she had seen a movie about some weird creatures that ate people, but they were really a struggling family that could only live by doing that. She had no clue if it had been some sort of parody, comedy horror or meant to be a serious heartwarming family story, but whatever it was; it made her both curious enough to watch it all the way through and incredibly uncomfortable.

Luz realized she was zoning out slightly, as she registered King screaming to her side. “Yes! Devour them! KILL THEM ALL!” He leaned in on the table, wagging his tail, his eyes shining with excitement. “One day, I’ll be like that again…” he whispered in awe.

Luz shifted around in her seat, messing with her necklace. I wonder how long there is until I have to head to Amity’s house? She checked the time, but there was still over half an hour before she could leave and get there at a reasonable time. “When’s this going to be over? I have to visit Amity later.”

King glanced up at Luz. “I think it’s over soon.” He sat back down, with a little squeak. “Sorry I was blocking your view.”

Luz smiled down at him. “It’s fine, you’re even cuter when you’re excited about something!”

Luz grinned, as he glared up at her. “I’m NOT cute! I’m the King of demons, and I…” He trailed of as his gaze fell back on the crystal ball. “I’ll lecture you later.” He tried to look tougher, like the movie bored him, but Luz could see how his tail twitched and shifted as he tried not to wag it.

Luz shifted to lay on her stomach, watching the last of the movie with him.

¨¨

Just a few minutes after the movie ended, Eda and Lilith finally came home, but Luz didn’t have a lot of time to stick around and talk, because she suddenly realized she needed to check if she had anything she needed to bring with her.

Shoot, why did I not remember to check earlier? She sprinted upstairs, after a quick hi to Eda, to look for her bag.

She took some time to draw a couple emergency glyphs, just in case she got into trouble, making sure to bring her notepad and pen with her, if she happened to use them all up without being able to draw them on the ground either.

She took a few seconds to look at her necklace, before she headed back downstairs to say goodbye.

King didn’t like that she was leaving at all. “Why do you have to go?” He grabbed her leg, as she was about head out the door. “Can’t you just visit Amity tomorrow?”

Luz smiled down at him, lightly pushing him away, but he stood his ground. “Sorry, King, I promised Amity I’d come over today.” She patted his head, as he looked up at her with big begging eyes. “We can spend time together tomorrow, okay?”

King suddenly got a way more worried look in his eyes. “But what if there isn’t going to be a tomorrow?”  

Luz froze, shocked at what he was suggesting. “I don’t think you need to worry about that.” She picked him up in her arms, despite his slight protest. “Everything’s going to be fine! I’m prepared!” He squirmed, as she hugged him, before she put him back on the floor and brought her emergency glyphs out of her bag. “Look! I’m ready for anything!”

King stared up at Luz, not looking any more at ease. “But… What if something catches you off guard?” he looked back to the crystal ball, before he pointed to it. “I don’t want anything like that to happen to you, Luz!”

Luz felt uncomfortable looking back at the crystal ball, because she knew she probably couldn’t say that it was just a movie. “Like I said; everything is going to be fine!” She felt a bit antsy, realizing that she was wasting time discussing this with King. “And, again, I promised Amity I was coming over today.” She fidgeted with her bag, before continuing. “And I’ve made it this long without being eaten! I promise I’m going to come home safe.”

She crouched down to give King another hug, before she headed out the door. “Bye, guys!”

¨¨

Luz didn’t know what to do, as she stood in front of the door to the Blight Manor after having knocked. She had no clue what to expect, as she waited for someone to let her in.

She shifted from foot to foot in small bounces, as the door opened.

She took a step backwards, nearly falling off the steps, when she saw how infuriated Amity looked. “Woah! What’s wrong?” Did I come over too late? Or too early? Luz wasn’t sure she should come closer, as Amity stared her down, before looking at her necklace.

Luz yelped in surprise, when Amity grabbed her arm and forcefully pulled inside the house. “Ack! Amity! Stop! That hurts!” She didn’t listen, as she kept pulling on her, making Luz follow along just to lessen the pain. Despite that, her grip was still uncomfortably tight around her arm. “What’s going on?”

Luz tried to figure out what she could have done wrong to make Amity so angry at her, but she couldn’t think of anything. Is she taking her anger out on me, or is she angry at me? She couldn’t tell what was going on, but she knew that she didn’t want to see Amity like that. “Have I done something wrong?”  

Amity huffed, but she didn’t answer her question.

Luz still tried to figure out what Amity could possibly be mad at her for, as she followed her into the living room. Luz remembered that she needed to give a more thorough apology for her distrust of the necklace. “I’m really sorry about earlier.” Amity didn’t look at her as she spoke, “you know, with the necklace; I didn’t mean to make it sound like I didn’t trust you.”

Amity tightened her grip on Luz’s arm, before she suddenly let go of it, and shoved her down on the couch.  

Luz hit the couch, before quickly rolling back off it, staring up at Amity. “What was that fo-” Her eyes widened, as she cut herself off when she saw Amity forming a spell circle. “Wait, don’t!” But she barely got the words out, before Amity cast the spell.

Luz braced herself for something to hurt her, but nothing happened at all. She let out a sigh of relief. Amity is just messing with me. “Wow, you really scared me-” Luz’s eyes widened once again, as she realized that something had happened; she was shrinking, getting smaller by the second. What did Amity just do to me?!

Amity watched her with cold eyes, before she walked over and crouched down.

Luz hesitantly backed away, trying to figure out why Amity was acting the way she was. “Uhm…” her voice shook slightly, stopping her from speaking, as she glanced away. Her fear felt like it grew larger by each second that the giant, compared to her, girl watched her. “What did you do that for?” she asked, trying to stop her voice from showing how scared she felt. Her heart thudded quickly in her chest, as Amity kept the cold look in her eyes.

Amity leaned down closer, before poking her hard enough to knock her over. “You’re boring… Aren’t you going to run away or something? I thought you would be more exciting to catch…”

Luz watched her for a few seconds, before she got up on her feet again. “Catch?” She kept looking up at her, but she couldn’t figure out why Amity would want her to run. Whatever Amity was doing; she wasn’t sure she wanted to play along with it.

Amity sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Alright, let me put it simply…” Her hand suddenly slammed down in front of her, making Luz jump back with a shriek. “You run right now, and I might let you go if I can’t catch you within...” she paused to think, as Luz heart pounded even faster in her chest, “ten minutes.”

Amity stared at her with the same uncaring eyes, waiting for Luz to do something, but she couldn’t get her feet to move. She took a couple unsure steps back after a few seconds. Is this a game? It had to be; why else would Amity be acting like that? Maybe it’s just a weird way to welcome guests here? But that didn’t make much sense.

Amity tapped her fingers against the floor in impatience, snapping Luz out of her thoughts. “I’m only giving you a few more seconds to try and get away, human.” She shifted her fingers to reach out after her, but she stopped before wrapping them around her. “This is getting really boring… Aren’t you at least going to yell at me?”

Luz stared at the fingers that had almost closed around her, not knowing what Amity was getting at. “I don’t get it!” she shouted, squeezing her eyes shut. “I don’t get what’s happening!”

Amity pushed her down on the floor, pinning her down roughly with only a couple fingers. “I’m giving you a chance to escape!” Luz still didn’t understand, as she looked up at Amity. She felt her press down harder on her shoulders, making her gasp in pain. “Or, I guess, was.”

Luz let out a pained wheeze, as Amity’s fingers wrapped around her, almost feeling like Amity was trying to crush her to death. “Stop! That hurts!”

Amity scowled down at her, but she loosened her grip slightly. “Oh, poor you.” She scoffed, before she opened her fist up to grab Luz’s bag, before she even had a chance to try and take it back from her. “As if it wasn’t on purpose…” she mumbled under her breath. “Didn’t realize you were that stupid.”

Luz stared up at Amity in disbelief. “I’m not stupid!” What is going on with her? “I want to know why you’re hurting me!”

Amity glared at Luz intensely. “Can you be quiet? I need to focus on something.” She lifted her up to her mouth and grabbed the back of her shirt between her teeth.

Luz felt a strong chill go up her spine, as the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She tried to keep her shirt from pressing in on her throat, but it barely helped. What the hell is Amity doing? She gasped for breath, as she squirmed to try and loosen the pressure on her neck.

She looked at her bag, as Amity emptied it into her hand. Another rush of fear went through her, as she realized that she had barely had any ways of defending herself against Amity. She tried to kick Amity’s chin, but she couldn’t hit anything from where she was. “Don’t-” She coughed, shifting her grip on her shirt slightly, “-don’t take my stuff!”

An exhausted breath blew down onto her from Amity’s nose, before she put the pen and notepad down in the bag and shook the glyphs off her hand.

Luz watched, as her hand moved up to grab her again, kicking it as soon as it was in reach. “Let me go!” She only realized her poor wording, as Amity let out a small laugh through her nose, and opened her mouth slightly. “Wait, no! Not like that!” Luz let out a terrified cry, bracing herself for the fall, but Amity grabbed her again without dropping her.

Luz felt Amity’s tongue slurp up against her neck, before she was lowered down.

Luz couldn’t believe what Amity just did, as she shifted her head to try to process the feeling of drool that lathered her neck. Did she just lick me? She definitely did. Why did she do that? Luz felt another strong chill run through her body. “Why did you lick me?”

Amity’s eyes were just as unkind as before, when she turned Luz around to stare at her. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

Luz cowered, as the bad feeling she had grew worse. “Please don’t hurt me…” she whispered quietly. She had a growing worry that this was going the exact way she expected getting licked by a person big enough to eat her in a single bite would go. I shouldn’t have promised anything to King… she realized, trying to stop the burning feeling in her eyes, not wanting to cry. I have to be wrong; Amity would never do that. But signs weren’t very promising.

Amity scowled down at Luz, before she shifted her gaze away from her. She didn’t say anything else, as she began looking around from something in the house.

Amity found her way to what looked like a dining room, where what had to be her mom was standing. Luz felt Amity shift her grip on her to dangle her from her fingers. “She was way too easy to catch… I even offered her a chance to get away, but, apparently, humans aren’t smart enough to take a chance to survive.”

Luz tried to look back at Amity, but she couldn’t quite see her, as the feeling of dread grew. “Survive?” She knew Amity was obviously hinting at eating her, but that didn’t mean she was being serious about doing it. She wouldn’t really do that, would she? “What do you mean?” She couldn’t actually want to kill her. Her thoughts spun in her head, as she tried make sense of it. She wouldn’t!  

Amity turned her around, raising an eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re not stupid?” She shook Luz, making her cry out in distress, as she felt like she was going to slip out between her fingers. “I thought you had already caught on.” She shifted her grip to let Luz sit in her hand. “I think it’s pretty obvious what I’m going to do, but I guess a human like you would be too dumb to understand?”

Luz tried to get up on her feet, but Amity didn’t give her a chance, as she was pinned down by her thumb. She stared up at Amity, still trying to figure out if she was serious. “I’m not dumb!” She squirmed underneath her thumb, but she held on too tightly for Luz to do anything. “I just don’t know why you would do this!”

Amity rolled her eyes in annoyance. “Yeah, sure, but isn’t it still pretty obvious?” She glared down at her, as she continued. “I don’t care about you.”

Luz suddenly burst out laughing. Something about the way she said it didn’t sound like she meant it. It sounded way too exaggerated. “What are you talking about?” She couldn’t stop laughing at the idea of Amity not caring about her. “We’re friends!” Just the thought that Amity would hurt her seemed completely absurd the more she considered it. “We’ve been friends for a long time, when did you suddenly start hating me again?”

Amity got even angrier, glancing over at her mom, as Luz spoke. “That doesn’t matter!” She pressed her thumb harder into Luz’s chest, making her let out a pained wheeze again. “What matters is that I don’t like you, and I’m going to make sure that I never have to see you ever again.”

Luz wriggled underneath her thumb, trying to process everything that was happening. She can’t mean that! “W-wait, no!” She already knew how Amity was going to solve this. “We can figure this out another way!” Luz looked around as she gasped for breath, while she tried to think. Is Amity seriously going to kill me? “I’m trying to find way back to my mom! Maybe-” Luz hesitated, before she made her decision. “What if I stay there? In the human realm?”

Amity kept scowling down at her, but Luz could swear she saw a glimpse of surprise in her eyes, before she looked over at her mom with a slightly hopeful expression.

Luz immediately put the pieces together, but that didn’t make her situation any less terrifying. Is Amity’s mom making her kill me? She decided to keep her mouth shut, until her mom made a decision. Please let me go home… She suddenly felt even more powerless in Amity’s grasp, knowing that her life could be ended by a single decision that neither she or Amity had a say in.

Amity looked back down at Luz, clearly realizing that she had noticed her odd behavior, as she her expression changed back to a glare hurriedly, before her necklace lit up.

Luz looked at it unsurely, waiting for either Amity or her mom to say anything. Don’t kill me… She couldn’t help squeezing her eyes shut, as she waited to know if she was going to make it out alive or not. Please decide to let me go… she begged inside her head once again.

Amity huffed, and Luz’s hair stood on end, as she realized what that meant. “No, you said you’re still trying to find a way back and that would take way too long.” Luz pulled her legs closer to her body, as she gave Amity a pleading look. “Besides, I don’t have the patience to see your face around anymore.” She shifted her around in her hands with malicious smile. “And I think killing you would be much more satisfying.”

Luz realized she had to come up with something to convince her mom to change her mind. “Amity, please, don’t!” She looked around, trying to collect her thoughts. What did I want to say? “I- You-” It was about Amity. “You don’t actually want to kill me; I know it!” She pointed her thumb where Amity had looked earlier. “It’s her, your mom! She wants to kill me! I saw the way you looked over at her!”

Amity squeezed her eyes shut in a scared wince, before she tried to play it off. “Why do you have to be so annoying about this?” She shifted her grip to dangle Luz from her fingers again. “You know you can’t do anything about this, right? Even- I mean-” Amity stammered slightly. “Ugh! I’m just going to get this over with!”

Amity opened her mouth as wide as she could, finally letting the fact that Amity was serious about killing her sink in.

“Wait!” She tried to grab onto her fingers, while kicking against Amity’s hand. “No, please! There has to be something I can do to change your mind!” But Amity didn’t hesitate, as she lowered Luz into her mouth. “Or your mom’s mind!” She writhed around, trying to get a look at her, but she couldn’t even catch a glimpse. “Mrs. Blight, please, stop this!”  

But her mother didn’t say or do anything to call it off.

The bare part of her legs rested against Amity’s tongue, as she closed her mouth around Luz’s waist. I have to do something now! “We can figure something out, or-” Luz felt that she was sliding deeper into Amity’s mouth, despite her desperate attempts to push herself back out. “Please, I-” Luz sucked in a breath, as she felt tears burning in her eyes once again, “-I don’t want to die!”

Amity opened her mouth a little wider around her again, using her tongue to drag her in. “Amity! Stop! Please!” This isn’t happening! This couldn’t be happening. She tried to grab onto Amity’s lip, but she couldn’t even reach anymore, let alone hold on. This isn’t happening!

“Amity! Spit me out right now!” She tried to kick herself back out of Amity’s mouth, but she shut it around her, before she even had a chance.  

“This isn’t funny at all!” It had to be a cruel joke, or a nightmare. It had to be. She couldn’t die here; she couldn’t die yet. This isn’t happening! She choked on her own sob, as she begged Amity to stop. “Ple-please!”

But Amity still didn’t listen to her.

Luz tried to back away from Amity’s throat, but she couldn’t get a proper grip on anything inside her mouth. Maybe if I kick her throat, she’ll spit me out? Anything was worth a shot at this point. She gave her a full force kick in the back of her throat.

Just as Luz had hoped, Amity immediately retched and spat her back out into her hands. But Luz instantly realized that there wasn’t anywhere to go from there. Okay, so I have another shot at changing her mom’s mind, that could work! Luz spun around to face her, but something about the look she was giving Amity told her there was nothing she could do. I have to try again.  

She tried to gather her thoughts, but all except the desperate pleas for her life escaped her. Shoot, what do I say? Luz stared at Amity’s mom, as Amity stopped gagging behind her.

Luz turned back around. “Amity, please, you don’t have to do this!” There had to be another way to convince her… What hadn’t she tried? “I promised King I would come back home today!”  

She looked up into Amity’s eyes, hoping to convince her to let her go. Luz immediately began talking, trying to stall her fate, despite the lack of any sort of pity in her eyes.

“I said that we could spend tomorrow together, but he said there might not be a tomorrow, and I tried to comfort him-” her eyes flicked around, trying to look as scared as she felt, “but if I really don’t have a tomorrow, then King and I will never spend it together!”

Luz hoped that her listening to her stream of panicked words meant that she was considering trying to change her mom’s mind. She continued trying to stall. “What’s your mom’s name?” She turned back around to face her. “What’s your name?” she shouted at her, but she didn’t respond, only getting out of her line of vision. “Please! Stop this!” she cried out again, as her eyes searched for her in vain. “I need to get back! I have to come home!”

She felt Amity lift her up and turn her around and Luz stared up at her with tear-filled eyes. The look in Amity’s eyes was bored more than anything, as she spoke, “do you really think you’re going to be changing my mind on this?” She sighed deeply. “Because I’ve planned this for a while and I’m not going to back down over some begging and crying.”

Luz racked her brain for anything that could save her, but she didn’t know what else she could do. She tried to stall again, hoping Amity would hear her out. “What about the time…” It didn’t matter what she talked about, as long as she talked. “Or I mean, what about the Azura books? If you kill me, you won’t have anybody to talk with you about them!”

Amity scowled at Luz. “Don’t remind me of that!” She squeezed Luz tightly, before she continued. “You just kept talking and talking and talking!” The look her eyes soften for a second, before she caught herself. “I never got a word in! Do you have any idea of how annoying it was?” She sighed once more. “I’m tired of this...” She opened her mouth back up again.

Luz immediately tried to squirm out of her grasp. “Stop!” She put her hands out in front of her, once again trying to grab onto something before she was shoved into Amity’s mouth. There has to be something I can do! But it was useless and, deeper down, she did know that.

Her eyes flicked around, as she tried to come up with something. Could I make her gag again? Maybe Amity will get tired of it eventually and… Luz didn’t even have to finish the thought, before she realized that wouldn’t work. Amity could easily bite her in half or just crush her arms or legs between her teeth. A sharp prickling feeling went up her spine, as she felt like the hair on her neck stood up. I can’t get out.

She suddenly became much more aware of everything around her, as she realized that now really was the moment she was going to die.

Everything felt fake, as a surreal feeling spread through her body, making every muscle in it tense. Her heart was beating, but it didn’t feel like her heart. She was breathing, but her lungs didn’t feel like they were hers. She had thoughts, but they didn’t feel like they came from her own head.

She shook her head, as she felt like vomiting. No, no, this is just a weird dream, a really scary, terrifying, nightmare, I’m going to wake up soon… But then why could she feel the saliva from Amity’s mouth making her clothes stick to her skin? I’m not going to die! I can’t! She clenched her fists tighter, digging her nails into her palms to feel something, as she shivered all over from the horrid realization she was having. She let out a small cry, wanting the feeling out of her body.

It couldn’t be possible that she would actually die; she couldn’t die. I can’t die! It doesn’t make sense! I can’t! Those were the only thoughts that echoed in her mind, as she tried to process what was happening. She wasn’t supposed to die; if she died, then what would happen to her? To the person she was? She heaved for breath, before whimpering, as she felt like an intruder in her own body. I can’t die!  

Luz let out the loudest scream she could muster, trying to feel like she was in control of the body she was in, before she dug her nails into Amity’s tongue. She knew her voice would come out hoarse, even before she screamed again, “SPIT ME OUT!” The words raked her throat, as she screamed them as loud as she could.

She pressed against the back of her tongue with as much force as she could, before she was pinned to the roof of Amity’s mouth.  

She wriggled against it, trying to maneuver her arms to make Amity gag another way. I’m not going to die in here! She hesitated for a few seconds, before she pressed her arms into Amity’s throat. She couldn’t put as much force into it, as her kick, or even just when she pressed down, but it was enough for her soon-to-be murderer to let her back out.

At least for a second, before she was quickly shoved back inside. This was exactly the scenario she had dreaded. She couldn’t keep stalling her death; Amity wasn’t using anywhere near the amount of energy Luz was. This couldn’t keep going forever.

Amity pinned Luz against her palate once again, letting her struggle uselessly for even longer.

Luz could feel herself starting to feel a slight bit weaker, as she tried to do the same thing she had done just before. But this time she didn’t get a chance to press against Amity’s throat, as she let her fall back to the front of her mouth, before she could reach.

She felt her feet hit Amity’s teeth, before Amity opened her mouth slightly and forced her leg in between them.

Luz squeezed her eyes shut tightly, realizing that Amity was going to be done playing with her soon. She’s going to bite my leg off! Luz tried to pull it out from between her teeth, but it didn’t do anything. Please don’t do this… It couldn’t be that much longer, before she decided to kill her.

But biting her leg off wasn’t what Amity had in mind, as she shifted Luz’s head in between her molars instead. Luz tried recoil, despite knowing she couldn’t do anything but wait for Amity to crush her skull. She didn’t think to send out any sort of last thoughts, as she focused on trying to shut out the unbearable pain she would feel in just a few seconds.

But Amity changed her mind once again, shifting her back on her tongue.

Luz was starting to wish that Amity would just get it over with already, instead of playing with her like she kept doing. I can’t get out… She had tried everything now, but none of it had worked. She went limp, before she tried one last time to get Amity to spare her life. “Am-” she coughed, as she realized just how sore her throat was from screaming. “-Amity, please, I can’t die yet!” She felt tears build up in her eyes once again, but she didn’t try to hold them back anymore.

Luz tensed up immediately, as she felt herself slide towards Amity’s throat. Amity is going to swallow me whole! She squirmed, before she was pinned in place again. “Amity!” This was one of the worst ways she could decide to kill her. “Sto-” she choked on her voice again in the middle of her word, “-stop! Please, at least make it a quick death!”

But it did nothing to convince her, as she was squeezed down into her throat.

Luz tried to make her gag again, but Amity swallowed her down way too quickly for her to do anything. She kicked the back of her palate, but even though Amity’s body clearly wanted her to cough her back up; she still quickly swallowed again to let Luz slide farther down into her throat.

Luz cried out in distress, as she was squeezed and shoved farther down by the second. She tried to clear her head of thoughts, not wanting to think about how soon she was going to die. She wasn’t ready to die in anyway at all. I can’t die… But she knew that wasn’t true; everybody had to die. I don’t want to die… She didn’t want to die yet, and especially not the gruesome way she was about to.

She whimpered, as trying to wriggle back up, but she knew there was no way she was making it out again. I never got to see my mom again… Every ounce of guilt she had felt since she had pretended to be at camp hit her at once. She cried even harder, letting out a wail, as she wished she had told her something, anything, about where she was. She’s never going to know what happened to me...

Luz could feel when the stomach opened up beneath her, and she squeezed her eyes even more shut, as she slid into the pool of acid at the bottom.

She quickly got out of it, but she knew it wouldn’t make much of a difference. I’m… She could barely finish the thought, but she knew she had to face sooner or later. I’m not getting out of here… She let her shoulders untense, knowing there was nothing she could do but wait for death. Maybe it won’t be as scary as it sounds…

But she knew she didn’t really believe that.

~

Amity felt Luz stop moving inside her stomach, but she didn’t worry, knowing she was going to be alright. She looked up into the smug face of her mother, glaring at her. Wipe that annoying smile off your face! Her mother hadn’t won; she had. Or at least as much as she could win, when she had, hopefully, broken Luz’s trust in her completely. She looked down at her stomach, holding a hand over it. Please don’t still trust me after this…

Her mom’s eyes nearly looked like they sparkled, as Amity hurried to lower her hand down. Shoot, I’m making this worse for Luz… Her mother touched the gem around her own neck, as her voice rung in her head like it had done so many times. “Mittens, you still seem pretty affectionate with the human, are you sure you can stay away from her?”

Amity nodded, as she felt anger bubble up inside her. I would do anything to keep Luz safe. Even if it meant never seeing her again. Though, the fact that her mom still wore that smug smile worried her. Am I missing something? Her skin prickled, as she knew there had to be something she wasn’t thinking off. Was there a loophole she hadn’t consider? How did the deal go again?

She thought back to what had been said. ‘If you can convince Luz that you’re trying to kill her, we won’t do anything to her ourselves.’

Amity’s eyes widened, as she realized exactly why her mom wore that smile, but she kept her face away from her. Stay calm, I can’t let her know that I’ve figured out her trick. If she knew she figured it out; she wasn’t going to get a chance to make a plan to save Luz from her.

She stretched casually, trying to look more tired than she was. “I think I’m going relax in my room for a while…” she hoped she could be more convincing than she was before. “I’ll come back… later?” She shot her mom an unsure look, trying to ask when she needed to let Luz out. That’s what I would have done before I guessed it, right? “When would be a good time?”

Her mom did look a bit suspicious of her, but not a worrying amount. “Come back in half an hour.”

Amity wasn’t sure she should chance a glare at her mom, despite knowing that she would have done it otherwise. I don’t want to risk anything… She would let her think she still thought she had won by ignoring her, as she walked past her.

~

Luz stared in confusion at the yellow tinted walls that were pulsing around her, realizing that something was off. Even if there was still enough air for her inside Amity’s stomach; she definitely should be feeling at least some itching, if not unbearably painful burning, by now.

She looked down at the bare part of her legs, but the skin didn’t seem irritated at all, despite her lower half having been in the acid the entire time she had been inside Amity’s stomach, because she hadn’t been able to get completely out of it.

Luz didn’t understand what was going on, but she had a feeling Amity had a reason for not telling her that.

She looked up where she had first entered her stomach, wishing she could get back out. She put her necklace in under her hoodie, letting the space around her darken. It was a lot more pleasant, when she didn’t have to look at the pulsing moving walls that she thought was going to kill her just a moment ago.

She closed her eyes, letting herself calm down. The thought that she was going to die eventually, even if not now, still lingered in her body, making her feel like she wasn’t really herself. But at least I don’t have to die right now. She tried to comfort herself with the thought, but thinking about the fact that she had to die at some point still left her with the hollow feeling of her body not being hers.

She pulled the necklace back out, realizing she needed a distraction from her thoughts. Or at least something to do with her hands, so she could squash down the feeling of needing to do something.

She watched the flickering effect the light gained, as she fiddled with the gems. It started to feel a little less scary, when she focused on the light and necklace in her hands, instead of her surroundings, thoughts or feelings. She could deal with her existential dread later… when she figured out how to stop feeling like herself when she thought about the fact that her life would eventually be over.

She took a shaky breath, trying once again to calm down.

~

Amity paced around her room, trying to figure out how to handle everything. How am I going to get Luz back to the Owl House? She couldn’t picture a way that would work. Mom has to be keeping an eye on me, in case I decide to run away… Amity paused in her pace. Is it obvious that I’m going to run away? She thought about it, but she quickly realized if her mom saw or heard her head out, she would immediately get caught.

She sat down, trying to form a better plan. My only back up plan can’t just be to restrain her, while I run… She had to come up with something better, but she knew she had limited time. How am I going to do this? She placed her head into her hands, gritting her teeth in frustration.

She rubbed her face, trying to come up with something else. What if I wait until I’m supposed to let Luz back out, but then I run away? It almost sounded easier, but she might as well use some of the surprise from running way now instead. It might have worked, if Ed and Em were home to help. But, obviously, her mother didn’t want anybody interrupting her traumatizing of Luz. Or, rather, her murder. Why did I ever agree to this? It should have been so obvious that this plan wasn’t going to work. What made me think mom would even keep her word? She knew how her mom was.

Amity wished she had just been smart enough to avoid this. Luz could have saved herself, if I just warned her… She squeezed her eyes shut, letting herself cry. I could have helped her! Amity knew that she shouldn’t dwell on the past, that was something she couldn’t change, but she couldn’t see how she was going to get out of the situation her stupid, absolutely terribly, mistake had brought her in.

Amity had to wipe the tears from her face not long after. I have to at least apologize to Luz… Her shoulders tensed, as she thought about having to tell her that she had pretty much gotten her killed. I’ll try to make it more optimistic... She didn’t know how to make it sound like that, but she could give it a shot. “Luz?”

~

The necklace thumped against her chest, as she let go of it, when she heard her name. She felt a sudden burst of anger, kicking Amity’s stomach with as much force as she could. She quickly calmed down after that, realizing that it wasn’t Amity fault that this happened. Maybe partly, she didn’t try to stop her mom, but I shouldn’t take my anger out on her…

But before she could apologize; Amity spoke again. “I deserved that.” Luz waited for a few seconds, before Amity continued. “But I wanted to say sorry, and that you were right about everything… Somewhat?” Luz wasn’t sure if she should say anything yet, but Amity seemed to be done, as she didn’t say anything after making a few noises while thinking.

Luz wasn’t exactly sure what to say. “Uh… Okay?” She didn’t really want to be talking with Amity, her voice still felt uncomfortable to hear. “But, uhm… If I’m not going to die in here; you’re going to let me out soon, right?” Luz didn’t want to spend a second longer than she needed to inside Amity’s stomach.

She heard the rush of air in Amity’s lungs, as she took a deep breath. “About that…” Luz felt like her skin was crawling, as she waited for Amity to say something horrible. “I might have messed up a little more than I thought, and my mom does want you dead.”

Luz immediately sprang up in a panic, or attempted to, but she just splashed down into acids again as she slipped. “You’re still going to kill me?!” She tried to climb backwards, as one of the ways that Amity could still kill her popped into her mind. She’s going to drown me! “No, please, I-” But Amity quickly interrupted.

“No, no, Luz, I’m not going to let her get her way!” Amity’s heart had sped up too, as she hurried to get her words out. “I would never let anyone or anything hurt you; no matter what.” Luz noticed she took a breath, after she had stopped her writhing.  

Luz tried to process her words, but they… didn’t make any sense. Something in the way she said it made her think there much more to them than what she let on. She tried to think back to before Amity had lied to her about how much she hated her, but she still couldn’t figure out what made Amity care about her that much. No matter what... her mind repeated the tone that Amity had used. Maybe I’m putting too much meaning in it?

Amity continued, snapping her out of her thoughts. “But I was trying to say that she still wants you dead, so I need to find a way to get you back to the Owl House.” She let out a sigh. “The problem is that I’m stuck in my room…”

Luz let herself relax again. “First of all; don’t phrase stuff like that ever.” She pointed a finger at Amity, despite knowing she couldn’t see her. “But secondly… I don’t really know what to do either.” Luz gave herself some time to think. “Uh… Maybe you could…” Nothing popped into her mind immediately that wasn’t obvious. But maybe the simplest option could work? “Do you think you could beat your parents in a fight? If you had to?”

Amity went quiet, and Luz listened curiously for her response. “What do you mean? Do you want me to fight my parents?”

“No, I mean, if you had to, if you were caught?” Luz knew that Amity had to have thought about this, but she was pretty sure it could work. “And if you can’t, what are they going to do?” Luz’s confident feeling grew, as she thought about it more. “They can’t get to me, as long as I’m in here!”

It was silent above her, as Amity thought.

Luz stared up hopefully, excited that Amity seemed to be considering the idea. It could really work! She tried to squash down her feeling of being clever, waiting to hear what Amity thought of it.

“You’re right…” Luz waited, hoping she would go through with the idea. “But what if they have a way to make me throw up?”

Luz deflated, not having thought about that. “Well… Do you think they do?” She gave it a few more seconds of thought. “Why would they have a way to make you throw up? Doesn’t that sound weird?” Luz tried to come up with anything that could help them out of this awful situation they had ended up in. “And how else are we going to get out of this? I can’t think of anything else…”

Amity went quiet, clearly trying to think of something. “I don’t know…” She breathed out, as her heart sped up again. “I guess it’s the only thing that sounds doable…”

¨¨

Luz had to wait with growing worry, as Amity moved around the house.

She kept her hands around her necklace and it helped her calm down slightly. The chain felt comforting, as she ran her fingers along it. Stay calm… She didn’t want to freak out too much, despite knowing that both her and Amity were incredibly worried. She can do this.

She could hear Amity’s heart beat faster than her own, but not by much.

She wished she could help out, but there wasn’t a lot she could do, even if she was back outside and her regular size. I would probably just be easier to kill… Not to mention the fact that she was still completely defenseless. Luz gripped her necklace anxiously, as she thought back to Amity taking her bag. What did Amity do to my bag?

It wasn’t that she was too worried about the bag; she didn’t have anything really important and irreplaceable with her, but she still didn’t want to have lost it. She did have a few of her favorite patches and pins on it and it would suck to lose them. So technically something irreplaceable, if she never got back to her mom, but nothing really important important.

She let go of the necklace, deciding to watch the walls around her for a bit. It made her own stomach churn, as she thought about what happened. It was gross to think that Amity could do that. She hadn’t had that hard of a time swallowing her down, despite how much she had tried to get her to gag.

She tried to stop the uncomfortable feeling she got from thinking about it. Amity is keeping me safe. She reminded herself once again. I’m safer in here than out there. If she was out there; Amity’s mom could get to her way more easily.

Luz wasn’t sure how long she spent thinking about all her different worries, but apparently long enough for Amity to make it out of her house, as the bigger girl told her exactly that in a voice a little louder than a whisper.

It was quiet again after that, except for her much louder and more strained breathing.

¨¨ ~

By the time Amity reached the Owl House; she could barely get her legs to move anymore. Maybe I should have taken it just a tiny bit slower… Her parents hadn’t even seen her run away, as far as she knew. But the thought that they had been after her had made it impossible for her to slow down.

She stared over at the house, feeling unsure about what to do. Should she explain any of what had happened, or keep it a secret? I think I’m going to start by letting Luz out… She wished she had thought about an easier way to make herself throw up suddenly. It can’t be that hard… she thought, remembering how easily Luz had made her gag. But maybe it’s harder to do it myself…  

Amity shook her head, realizing she was overthinking it way too much.

She looked down at her stomach, feeling an uncomfortable shiver go up her body as she thought about what she had done. I’m so stupid… “I’m going to let you out now.”

¨¨ ~

Luz yelped in surprise, as she fell out of Amity’s mouth, but her fall was slightly broken by the soft-ish leaves on the ground. And despite falling the relatively tall height that she had; it barely hurt.

She still groaned, immediately having to squeeze her eyes shut at the still bright light outside. I didn’t realize it was so dark in there... She had thought that the light from her necklace was a lot stronger. She felt dizzy, as she hesitantly opened her eyes back up again.

She heard Amity shuffle backwards retching again, but it didn’t sound like anything else was coming out.

Luz got up on her feet, grimacing as she saw Amity’s face. That does not look fun... She didn’t want to say anything, before Amity was done dry heaving.

Amity swallowed loudly, letting out an exhausted noise. “I’m so sorry,” she started, swallowing sickly again, “I really hope you’re okay after all this...” Amity sat up clenching her hands tight. “I didn’t think any of this through... ” She squeezed her eyes shut, and a couple tears rolled down her face.

Luz didn’t want to say that everything was fine; it wasn’t. But she also didn’t think Amity needed to feel that horrible about it. “Well... The worst part was really realizing that I was going to die, so it’s not really your fault?” Luz dug her foot in under one of leaves next to her, trying to lift it with her foot. “I mean, unless you’re a god of death?” she tried to joke with a hesitant smile.

Amity grimaced, as she clearly tried not to smile back. “It’s not funny...” Her grimace quickly turned sad, as she looked down at Luz. “I know how much I scared you.”

Luz stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do to make Amity stop worrying about it. “I don’t really want to talk about this right now.” It was true, but she was mostly hoping to distract Amity. “Also... Could you maybe turn me back to normal?”

Amity snapped up. “Right! Sorry,” she apologized, but she didn’t turn her back immediately, fishing around in the bag she had with her, before she brought out Luz’s bag. “Here.” She stood back up, before casting the spell.

Luz closed her eyes, as she grew back to normal, finding a little too weird to watch how everything changed back to how it was before.  

When she opened them again; everything seemed much more familiar.  

A lot more real.  

Without even registering her emotions properly; everything blurred with tears.

Luz couldn’t even get a word out, despite wanting to tell Amity that it wasn’t her fault that she broke down. Don't think it’s your fault! Luz’s thoughts screamed between the terrifying jolts of constant reminding that she was going to die and having no way of knowing what would or wouldn’t happen afterwards. Don’t get upset too!

She looked over at Amity, seeing how distressed she looked too, and managed to speak up. “It’s not your fault.” She blinked, letting more tears fall freely. “I’m not scared of you!” She wiped her tears away, even though they were still coming. “We should get inside... I just need to talk with Eda.”

Luz watched Amity, but she didn’t move any closer towards the Owl House.

Amity spoke hesitantly. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Luz would have shrugged, but she was too upset. “It’s fine; Eda has probably done more questionable things than this.” Amity still looked a little unsure. “Amity, it’s alright; I’ll make sure they won’t get mad at you.”

Amity slowly nodded, before they both headed inside.

~

She still didn’t believe that Luz wasn’t upset with her. I shouldn’t be here... She felt like her back prickled uncomfortably, as she stood stiffly a few steps inside the house.

Luz had immediately gone to embrace Eda, crying into her shoulder. The older witch seemed to be very uncomfortable, but she also looked ready for letting Luz cry for as long as she needed.

Amity took a step back, hoping nobody would notice her. I could see if I could stay at the library for the night... She was pretty sure she could convince Malphas to let her stay if she told him about her situation with her parents. Or I could work a little harder if I need to. That could make up for it. I need to go now if I want to make it.

She carefully turned around to head back out the door, still trying to make herself as unnoticeable as possible.

But, of course, she was noticed this time. “Amity?”

The voice immediately caught her attention, as she noticed Lilith on the couch with Hooty by her side. “Lilith?” She decided that leaving wasn’t an option anymore, now where she had been noticed. “What are you doing here?”

She threw out her hands, “I could ask you the same thing; I thought Luz was just supposed to visit you,” she looked over at Luz and Eda, gesturing to Luz, “so how did things go so wrong that this happened to her?”

Amity shuffled her feet slightly. “I think I’m going to let Luz explain some of it first... But it’s my fault it happened.”

Luz immediately butted in. “No, it’s not-” she sniffled, before she continued, “-there was no way-” she breathed in deeply, as she whimpered and hugged Eda tighter, “-it wouldn’t have happened sooner or later...”

Amity took a second to think about it. “You are really only upset about the-” She wasn’t quick to catch herself before she said a little more than she needed. “-about death?” If she had to be completely honest; she thought that Luz was lying to her about that to make her feel better. Unless she thought I would pretend to want to kill her? But that was ridiculous.

Luz nodded, before she let go of Eda, “it’s really really scary to think about dying...” She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m so so scared and I don’t know how to stop feeling like this!” She immediately wrapped her arms around Eda again, almost looking like she was trying to crush her, but Eda still let her hold on.

Eda waited until Luz let go of her again. “Luz, I don’t really know what to tell you.” She took a deep breath, before she continued. “The only thing you can really do is try to forget about it and then when the moment comes... all you can hope is that you’ll be ready for it.” She gently patted Luz on her shoulder. “But we can talk about this after you take a shower, alright? I need to get changed now too.”

Luz nodded, not looking the least bit comforted, before she left for the bathroom and Eda went to get a change of clothes.

King had been eerily silent as all this went down, staring after Luz as she left, before he leaped off the couch to stare down Amity. “What did you do to our Luz? You said that this was your fault!”

Amity felt uncomfortable, as the tiny demon tried to interrogate her. “It’s hard to explain... I really don’t want to do it without Luz.” She grasped the sleeve of her dress between her fingers. “And Eda needs to know what happened too.”

King scowled at her. “She smells like vomit; how much is there to explain about that? When did she get eaten and why didn’t you help her?”

Amity suddenly focused a lot harder on the grim taste of puke in her mouth. I need to rinse my mouth with some water. She realized that she was also incredibly thirsty after her run. “I told you Eda needs to know too and Luz needs to be here.” She turned to Lilith hesitantly. “I know it’s a little weird for me to ask for something right now, but where can I get something to drink?”

¨¨ ~

When Luz came back from her shower Amity looked twice as uncomfortable as she had before with everybody staring at her. Oh gosh, how am I going to explain what happened? She didn’t want them to think Amity was a bad person. “Hey,” she called shyly, trying to take the attention off Amity. “I’m feeling a bit better now.”

She went into the living room, standing next to Amity to hopefully make her feel less awful about what she did. She didn’t have bad intentions with what she did. “Sooo...” Luz began hesitantly, “I guess you guys want to know what happened?”

King scowled at Amity, but Luz was quick to step in. “It’s not her fault.” But she hesitated again. “Not entirely anyway... It’s...” Luz realized she had no clue why Amity’s mom did any of what she did. “Actually, what happened back at your place? Why would your mom ever make you do something like that?”

Amity took a deep breath, “I don’t know...” She rubbed her arm, looking down to the floor. “I just know that it doesn’t really surprise me that much...” She sighed, before she talked about the other part of what had happened. “But what happened was that... My mom told me that if I didn’t...” She stopped, taking a step in behind Luz. “I know I shouldn’t have done it! But she told me that if I wanted Luz to live, I needed to convince her that I wanted her dead.”

Luz looked back at Amity, recalling her wince when she had told her that she figured out her mom was the one behind it. That was why she got scared... Luz carefully brushed her hand against Amity’s arm, making her flinch. “Sorry!” she quickly apologized. I guess she wouldn’t like a hug. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Amity nodded, refusing to look at Luz, before she continued. “But it turns out that it was a trick... She was going to kill Luz either way, and I was stupid and fell for it and now...” She looked at Luz briefly with confusion in her eyes, before she trailed of completely.

Luz desperately wanted to give Amity a hug, but she didn’t seem like something like that would help her. “So... Did your mom tell you to pretend like you were going to kill me a specific way or did you decide that?” Luz really hoped that it wasn’t Amity’s own choice, despite it technically having helped save her life.

Amity looked disgusted. “My mom... She pretty much planned the entire thing... Except for the... The uh...” She suddenly looked even more ashamed of herself, “... fake escape... I mean, I was pretty sure ten minutes was enough to catch you, but I wouldn’t have let you go.”

King interrupted their explanation. “I feel like you two are leaving out A LOT of stuff, because I’m just getting more and more confused.”

Both Amity and Luz looked over at each other, before Amity spoke, “my mom told me I had to pretend to kill Luz by swallowing her alive. That’s why she came home drenched and smelling like vomit.”

Luz jolted up, realizing she forgot to apologize to her mentor for running her clothes. “I’m sorry about your dress, Eda! I didn’t think about how gross I was.” It had completely slipped her mind, despite how sour she had smelled, even without thinking of how slimy she had been.

Eda quickly dismissed it, “don’t apologize about that; it’s been through worse.” She shrugged, “besides, I was thinking of getting rid of it soon.”

Luz looked around the room, but there still seemed to be some confusion. “Uh... Maybe it’s better if we tell them everything that happened.”

¨¨

By the end of it all, Luz felt completely exhausted and scared, having had to relive the moment again. “I think I’m going to go to bed early...” She tried to shake her head to wake up a little, but it didn’t work.

Eda immediately shook her head, “nope, not before you’ve gotten something to eat.”

Luz felt sick at the thought of food. “No thanks, I don’t think I can eat anything.” Her appetite was completely gone and it wasn’t just from the thought of what had happened to her. The idea of eating felt pointless after realizing she was going to die. “I just want to go to bed...” she said, despite her stomach hurting from a lack of food.

Eda didn’t back down. “I get that it’s uncomfortable, but you have to eat something.” She got up from her seat. “Get something to drink and I’m going to make you something.”

Luz decided it was no use protesting.

¨¨

She sat awkwardly and sipped her glass of water. Drinking without any appetite wasn’t easy either, but it did help slightly. She was getting a bit more open to getting something to eat, but mostly to stop the nausea she was getting from her stomach trying to break down nothing.

Amity looked over at her, before she spoke, “so, I’m going to be staying here, right? Or should I be going back home?”

Luz stared at Amity in disbelief. “What do you think?! Obviously, you’re staying here for the night!” She was not letting Amity go home to her parents. At least not for the night.

Amity looked away again. “But what if they only get more upset with me?”

“Then you’re staying here another day,” she replied, carefully putting a hand on top of Amity’s, hoping to comfort her. “Amity, I’m not letting you get anywhere near them, if you’re still scared of them.”

Amity pushed Luz’s hand away, before going silent.

¨¨ ~

Amity watched as Luz headed upstairs to go to bed after she had gotten something to eat, leaving her alone in a room full of people she barely knew anything about.

She decided not to speak to them, looking down into her hands.

Her nail polish looked like it was flaking off in some areas, and she picked at it to distract herself from the awkwardness that hung in the air. What do I do? She had no clue where she was supposed to sleep or if they had enough food for an extra person to stay there. I really want something to eat... She thought, but she would never ask for it, if the others weren’t going to offer. They would probably hate me for it... How was she ever supposed to eat again after she had done what she did?

She scratched a relatively big chunk of paint off, before she stopped to look around at the others. The only one staring at her was King, who was giving her a death glare.

She looked back down to her nails, continuing to scratch at them. “I’m mad at me too, you know...” she said quietly to King. “I really wish I had never done any of what I did.” She rubbed the back of her hand gently, wishing she could go back to before any of it had happened.

King huffed. “Yeah right! You’re just saying that so we don’t get mad at you.” He jumped off the place he was sitting to stare challengingly up at Amity. “Well, I’m still going to be mad at you, so it’s not going to work.”

She shrugged half-heartedly. “That’s okay... I wish you were angrier with me.” She lowered her hand back down. “I mean... I deserve it, don’t I? But Luz isn’t mad at me, even though she really should be...” Amity decided to let a few of her trapped thoughts out. “I don’t understand why she doesn’t hate me for what I did. Or why you guys are letting me stay.” She grabbed her own hand, crushing it as hard as she could. “I don’t deserve it.”

King seemed startled by her, taking a few steps back. “Oh, you really do feel bad...” He ducked his head slightly, before he jumped back to where he sat before, now watching her with a bit harder to read expression. “Well, then I don’t really care, as long as you don’t try to hurt Luz.” He continued to watch her, but he didn’t seem as angry anymore.

Amity looked back at him for another second, only getting more confused. Why don’t they hate me? Maybe she didn’t have to worry about them not wanting her to stay over? But she still felt horrible about what she had done.

She got off the couch, but didn’t know where she wanted to go. “Is there an empty room I could stay in? I need some time alone...”

~

Luz lay in her sleeping bag, tears running down her face. Her mind kept spinning in circles whenever she tried to calm her thoughts about death. As soon as she got to ‘you might feel ready for it when it happens’ it spun back around to the beginning of ‘I’m going to die’. She couldn’t sleep with her thoughts going like that on repeat.

She shuffled around, lying on her side instead. Maybe it’ll be easier to deal with tomorrow. That was her hope anyway, but she knew it wasn’t going to help this time. It normally helps, but this is much worse, she thought, but still tried to relax her body. Take a deep breath...

She did as she told herself, letting it out with a bit of trouble, before she wiped off her tears. Her tiredness seemed to be coming back again after she did that, and she did her best to keep her eyes closed, until she eventually fell asleep.

¨¨ ~

Amity first got back out of the room when she got called for dinner. And she had completely lots her appetite by that time.

She still felt absolutely miserable, but at least she hadn’t been stared at the entire time.

She only took a few small bites, despite her probably needing much more than she felt like eating.

The room was filled with the same awkward silence, as she sat with the others, herself mostly drinking water while the others ate.

Just eat a bit more... She told herself. She knew it wasn’t good that she wasn’t eating, since she hadn’t had anything to eat since breakfast to make sure that she wasn’t going to suffocate Luz in food on accident. Or even just let her sit in it. But she couldn’t make herself eat more than another small bite.

She looked up at Eda before quickly turning her head away again. “Thanks for letting me stay over.”

Eda shook her head, “it’s not that big a deal. Though I should probably have gotten a little more when I was out...” She looked like she was thinking about something, before she shook her head lightly again. “I’m just thinking out loud, no need to worry.”

Amity had already begun to worry, but she tried to shove the feeling down.

She forced herself to take another bite, but she was pretty sure she couldn’t eat another bite after that. “So... Where am I supposed to sleep?” she finally asked.

King mumbled something under his breath that Amity just barely caught, “nowhere near Luz that’s for sure...” Amity sure wasn’t going to object to that.

Eda shrugged again. “As long as it’s not taking already, I don’t care.”

¨¨

Amity ended up getting some pillows for herself and sleeping on the floor, because she was too ashamed to do anything else.

¨¨ ~

When Luz woke up; she didn’t feel nearly as bad as she thought she would. Her worrying about death had left her mind after her full night of sleep. At least for that moment.

She quickly got ready and headed downstairs to check if anybody else were up yet.

Checking the living room, she noticed that Amity had fallen asleep in the middle of the floor and was still sleeping. Luz raised an eyebrow, immediately becoming concerned. That doesn’t look comfortable... Not that it’s much more comfortable sleeping in a sleeping bag for so long. She almost decided to wake Amity up to get her somewhere more comfortable, before she realized it was a little late for that.

She walked around the house for a bit, finding all the others were still sleeping. I guess I did go to bed a little early... What had it been? 6 PM maybe? But there was also some time where she kept tossing and turning trying to fall asleep despite her scary thoughts.

She shook her head quickly. Don’t think about that, she reminded herself. Especially not when you don’t have anybody to talk to. But they were slowly creeping back in and she could feel her pulse rising. I’m not having this happen right after I wake up, she thought stubbornly at herself.

She looked back over at Amity, quickly deciding that she needed someone to talk to and woke her up, even if it was a little selfish.

~

Amity had woken up to someone trudging around the house, but she tried to ignore it and go back to sleep. At least until she felt someone touch her shoulder. “Hey Amity...”

She tiredly raised her head up to look at Luz. She immediately perked up a little more, realizing she probably had terrible bedhead. Every emotion she had about Luz in the past weeks mixed together at once, and she could only respond by lying back down again and apologizing. “Sorry.”

Luz let out a small uncomfortable laugh. “Seriously, stop apologizing, I’m trying to forget what happened right now.” She put a hand on her back, making Amity feel even more conflicted. “Besides, I think you missed a ‘good morning’.”

Amity couldn’t stop herself from smiling. “So did you,” she replied, making Luz look a little sheepish, “but good morning.” She sat up, trying to rub some of the sleep crust out of her eyes. “Why did you wake me up?” She was pretty sure it couldn’t be that late. “What’s the time?”

Her friend shrugged. “Dunno.” She also rubbed her eyes slightly, before she continued. “But I know why I woke you up.” Luz sat down next to her. “I just want to talk a little bit... I’m feeling a little off.” She rubbed her arm nervously. “So... How’d you sleep?”

Amity was pretty sure she knew what she meant by feeling off, but it was clear Luz didn’t like talking about it. “Poorly.” She could feel how stiff her body was. “But I didn’t know where else to sleep... And I was maybe being a little dramatic yesterday...” She would definitely have chosen to sleep on the couch now.

Luz tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

Amity looked away, not wanting to touch on the subject, if Luz didn’t want to talk about it. “It doesn’t really matter.” She paused, thinking her decision over. Maybe I should tell Luz about how I felt yesterday. “Or, well... If you’re uncomfortable talking about yesterday it doesn’t matter.”

Luz gave a slight nod. “Oh...” Her brow furrowed. “So why did you sleep on the floor?”

Amity scratched the back of her head awkwardly. “I didn’t feel like I deserved a better place to sleep.”

Immediately Luz’s eyes turned sad, and Amity moved away. “Amity, I’m alright, you don’t need to keep being so harsh on yourself.”

Amity kept herself from saying anything, despite her thoughts screaming that Luz was supposed to hate her now. It doesn’t make any sense... she thought, looking over at Luz, before she finally said something. “It feels like you should hate me now.”

Luz got a much more sympathetic look in her eyes, before she gave a small smile. “I know how that feels.” She let out a tiny laugh, looking like she was about to say something before she bit it back. She thought over her words, before she continued. “I feel like that about the smallest things sometimes.”

Amity had to take a second to think about it. “But what I did was so much worse.”

Luz moved a bit closer to her. “Yeah, obviously? But I already told you that I’m alright.” She sighed. “You don’t need to worry about me.” Luz scratched her hand slightly, as she looked at her. “I know it sounds a bit out of nowhere, but would you like a hug?”

Amity had to give it a few seconds of thought, before she nodded.

She unsurely let herself hug Luz back, leaning into her. It felt nice to be held like that, and hold onto someone after all that had happened. Just knowing that she still had someone she could consider a real friend helped a lot. Though the thought that Luz was just a friend did make her feel a little sad, she felt like it was enough for her in that moment.

Amity was the first to try to pull away, but Luz held on a little longer, making Amity hug her back again. It felt like Luz also needed the hug a lot.

Eventually both of them let go, and Amity could see that Luz was about to cry again. Amity hesitated unsurely, before gently took Luz’s hand in hers, like Luz had tried to do for her the other day.

Immediately Luz tightened her grip around her fingers, making Amity wince, but she let Luz clutch onto her hand. If it makes her feel better I can stand it for a bit. It didn’t hurt that much; it just surprised her a little.

Luz loosened her grip slightly, as she looked at Amity. “It’s so- scary...” she sobbed, immediately tightening her grip again. “I just can’t imagine the fact that it’s all going to be over... That one day I won’t be here anymore.” Luz squeezed her eyes shut, gasping for breath. “One day my mom is going to die, and what if I never make it home to see her again?”

Amity didn’t know what to say. “I think you will.” Luz gripped her hand even tighter. “I don’t think I get your feelings about death, but if you really want to make it home; you can do it.”

Luz looked down at her own hand. “I wish things could be like this forever... But with my mom here.” She let go of Amity’s hand, looking into her eyes. “Then everyone could be here with me and none of us would have to die...” She sniffled quietly. “But I know that’s stupid to think.”

Amity looked at Luz, hating that she couldn’t do anything to make her feel better. She wanted to tell her that everything was going to be okay, but she couldn’t say that. Luz was worried about death, something that was inevitable. She took a deep breath. “I’m going to be here for you as long as you need.”

Luz managed a weak smile, but didn’t say anything else.

They sat like that for a while, before Luz spoke up again. “You mean a lot to me, you know?”

“I do?” questioned Amity, not sure what to think about it. “Even after what I did?”

Luz nodded, “it does make me feel a little strange... But I’m happy that you’re here with me.” She shifted the way she was sitting slightly. “I don’t want to be weird, but... It makes me feel really... warm and fuzzy when I think about you.”

Amity stared at Luz, before she pushed the thought she was having away. “It’s not weird, except for your childish wording” she teased slightly, while trying not to get too hopeful. “And I’m happy to be here with you too.” She decided she would shift the topic a tiny bit away. “And I get what you mean with this feeling strange... It’s confusing to sit here with you, after what I did.”

Luz fiddled with her hands, looking like she wanted to ask something. “Uhm...” she started, before her voice fell away again and she had to start over. “Do you feel the same way about me? Even with the childish wording?” Amity could tell that Luz meant exactly what she had thought.

Amity nearly choked on her own breath in surprise. Her voice caught in her throat, forcing her to nod instead. I have to be dreaming. There was no way that Luz had just asked her that.

Both of them went completely silent, not knowing what to say to each other.

Hesitantly Amity deciding to reach out for her hand again and Luz took it. For some reason it felt a lot different from how they had held hands just before. And it wasn’t just the lack of her fingers being crushed.

As Amity looked up into Luz’s eyes; she noticed her smile had a bit of sadness to it. Immediately her own smile faded. “I wish I could do something to make you feel better...”

Luz bowed her head slightly. “I’m just happy you’re here with me.”

That would have to be good enough for both of them.

***

That’s the end! Thanks for reading! If you liked it, please leave a like! I love seeing that people like my stories! :3

Have a fantastic day/night! <3

[clumsyclifford]

ok hello i absolutely love all ur fics, you’ve just got a certain quality in ur writing that is just… mmm. yeah so anyway, do you have any advice on how to improve or just how to write?? (especially fic cause personally i struggle with that more than original stuff??)

hello!! that is very kind of you to say thank you <3

advice on how to write. oh boy. oh man. well i can try. i will do my best. i will also try to be brief but we all know how that song goes

update from having finished answering this: alright. okay. this is not only long, but decidedly english teacher-y. i’m sorry that i am the way that i am. this is what you get for asking a leo for writing advice. am i joking? maybe. maybe not. anyway. this post got away from me in a big way so here’s a read more. warning: LONG post under the cut.

1. study your characters. for RPF like the band stuff i write, that literally means watching interviews, watching them perform, seeing how they interact with each other, picking up on their mannerisms (behavior) - what they do with their hands, if they repeat themselves or stutter when they talk, the quality of their voice when they're talking about different things, and so on. also keep track of things they mention a lot in interviews especially about each other - for example jack has mentioned before that alex has an annoying habit of twirling his hair when he zones out. that kind of thing. IMPORTANT NOTE!:��you don’t have to use all of this information. just like studying for anything, you collect all the information you can and then you parse through it and use whatever you think will contribute or be relevant to your story.

2. remember that characters are people. or at least they’re representing people, which is an important distinction (see #3). still, considering that your characters are people can be a helpful way to get out of your head. see, characters are supposed to be archetypical, and fulfill a role, and say certain things in certain ways and never really deviate from that. but people are highly unpredictable and behave in random ways for random reasons and have thought processes that are unfathomable. people will just do fuckin’ whatever. if you’re worried that your characters aren’t behaving in a believable way, keep in mind that you’re trying to make your characters represent people, and people’s behavior is justifiable any number of ways. people just do shit.

3. remember that characters are not people. sike! no but seriously, this is just as important to remember. unfortunately, no matter how hard you try, characters are never going to be people. that’s a good thing for stories, though. characters can pick up on nuance in senses that people can’t - they can distinguish between different facial expressions, different smells, different sounds - BUT ONLY INSOFAR AS IT MOVES THE STORY ALONG. in other ways, characters are ridiculously oblivious. you can use this to your advantage. in fact, a lot of the time, you have to. if your character notices right away that someone is flirting with him, then you can’t write a 30k slow burn, for example. characters don’t do that thing humans do where they go “what?” but then halfway through the re-explanation they register what’s been said. pretty much everything characters say has meaning. (by this i don’t mean semantic meaning, i mean significance - characters don’t really just say “what?” because they didn’t hear what someone said, they say “what?” because they can’t believe it or they don’t understand it or they refuse to understand it. characters never seem to run into the didn’t-hear-them problem. must be nice.)

characters can do whatever you want or need them to do, because you’re in charge of them. (sometimes this doesn’t feel true - mine do all kinds of shit and i just have go “well alright then” - but it is true.) they are gears in a story. you decide when and how they turn.

4. dialogue is your friend. i am super super biased here, because i looove writing dialogue. if you talk to sam about this i’m sure she would say that description and narration are the ways to go. but you came to me, so i get to say that dialogue is god. i don’t want to say that dialogue is the only method of communication (i know nonverbal communication is real), but dialogue is the fastest and most effective method of communication, and by extension, the most effective way to advance relationships between characters. now. obviously there are exceptions. if characters are kissing, they’re probably not doing a lot of talking. if they’re trying to be undercover or discreet, they’re more likely to rely on gestures and facial expressions than speaking. if you’re writing a very peaceful scene, you might not want to undercut it by adding a lot of chit-chat. but i maintain that dialogue is the best way to move a story along, for a few reasons. 

first, at least for me, too much description is just tiring. depending on how skillful the writer is (sam), i can read a fair amount before i hit my limit, but unlike in mean girls, the limit DOES exist. you don’t want to over-describe the world (see #5). second, i find that dialogue is a really really good indicator of a person’s character. this is especially true and relevant in fanfiction, which is a lot more character-driven than original fiction in many ways. also, in a sec i’m gonna talk about showing [not/and] telling, which is every english teacher’s bitch, but dialogue is a really good way of showing who a person is and also a good way to establish facts about the universe. you could just narrate and be like “Jack hated waking up early,” and that works and in many cases it’s perfectly legit. but you could also do something like this:

“What the fuck,” Jack mumbled, still half asleep. “You better have a really fucking good reason to be waking me up this early. Like someone better have fucking died.”

and sometimes that’s just a more fun way to say it. (for the record you can also show AND tell here! there’s no reason why you can’t have this line of dialogue and then a line in the narration confirming how very much jack is not a morning person!)

the last reason why i am particularly fond of dialogue is because i am also particularly fond of communication, which is a preference thing. let’s face it, guys: characters aren’t gonna communicate if they’re not literally actually talking to each other. dialogue means talking to each other. talking to each other means solving problems, fixing (or creating) conflicts, understanding each other better. i love communication, ergo, i love dialogue. And You Should Too. 

5. describe the world, but don’t over-describe. i opened this fic earlier and it was like “jack was excited to wake up to go to his first class at the university of baltimore” and i just. i was like is this really relevant. do i really need to know this. and i never found out because i closed the fic but in my defense it was on wattpad and i had only opened it out of curiosity. look. there are three ways to use details in fic. (a) introduce them right away (b) introduce them when they become relevant or (c) don’t introduce them at all. let me give you some examples. 

(a) say your character A (i’m using jack because i’m used to him) wakes up. he’s in his room in his house off-campus. character B (rian) walks into the room. this might be a good time to explain that rian is his housemate. to that point: “show not tell” is a good rule, but sometimes “show and tell” is just as good. e.g.: 

Rian walks in, holding Jack’s Green Day shirt and looking irritated. That’s really nothing new; Rian looks irritated at Jack roughly once a day. Being housemates for a year will do that to a friendship.

boom, now you’ve let everyone know they live together without throwing it in their face, and you’ve also told everyone that these two guys are friends and have been friends for at least a year but probably longer. you showed it by having rian walking in holding jack’s shirt - usual housemate behavior - but you also told it in a subtle way that established the relationship and some kind of history between these two. well done.

(b) sometimes you want a certain detail to make an impact. this is the kind of thing you hold onto and don’t specify, and in certain cases you leave the reader wondering, “well what about x?” and then when you finally explain x they go ohhhhhhhhhh. yknow. the italicized oh. consider the following:

(A)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says, referring to Jack’s ex-boyfriend of last year.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

Rian gives Jack a look. “First of all, that’s not true, he’s incredibly smart. And second, I’m telling you as a courtesy, because I thought you might not want your ex-boyfriend hanging around our house after he broke your fucking heart.”

(B)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

Rian gives Jack a look. “First of all, that’s not true, he’s incredibly smart. And second, I’m telling you as a courtesy, because I thought you might not want your ex-boyfriend hanging around our house after he broke your fucking heart.”

the only difference between these two excerpts (which i just wrote lol they’re not from anything real) is that the second one doesn’t explain who alex is right away. that makes it way more interesting when rian reveals who alex is a few lines later. magic.

(c) take this college au that we’ve established here. where does it take place, you ask? easy answer: it doesn’t matter. you don’t need to say what school they’re at. this will make your job easier, because then no one can fact check you, and it also means you don’t have to decide what school they’re at. but even if you do decide, it’s not usually necessary to say. believe me, you can go thousands of words without ever needing to specify what school they’re at. you know why? because it doesn’t matter. and no one cares. and as soon as you specify in canon that they’re at a particular school, you are bound to be accurate to everything that school does, and that makes your job way more difficult than it needs to be. as hazel once said, work smarter, not harder. 

6. adverbs are also your friend. (yknow, words that describe verbs, typically ending in -ly, like “loudly” or “angrily” or “smoothly”.) ESPECIALLY when it comes to dialogue tags. (dialogue tags are the things you add to dialogue to say who’s talking and how they’re talking - like “he said” or “he whispered” or “he earnestly explained” or whatever). a lot of the writing advice you’ll see nowadays will usually guide you away from overusing dialogue tags other than the classic “says/said” and i STRONGLY concur with that advice. things like yelled, cried, mumbled, snapped - these are very good in moderation, when you’re really trying to emphasize the way a person is speaking. the more you use them, the less impact they have. in most cases, a simple “he said [adverb]” will do. instead of “he snapped” consider “he said curtly/sharply/coldly.” instead of “he mumbled” consider “he said quietly/clumsily/softly.” I WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT THESE ARE NOT DIRECT SYNONYMS. every word has a nuanced and slightly different meaning and that is the BEAUTY of the english language!!!! all i’m saying is that in many cases, a verb can be replaced with an adverb to achieve roughly the same effect, without making the reader feel like they’re scanning a thesaurus.

and speaking of a thesaurus: it’s not cheating to use outside resources like thesaurus.com to help you come up with words. i fuckin love thesaurus.com. i use that shit all the time for everything. i use it when i’m writing emails. i used it just now to write that last paragraph. thesaurus.com is your BEST friend.

7. grammar. (and spelling but that’s really a given.) unfortunately if i tried to teach you all of the essential rules of grammar this post would exceed tumblr’s previously-nonexistent word count limit. so i’m not gonna teach you any of them. this is just a general point to suggest that if/when you’re writing, have someone you trust, with a good grasp of grammar, look over it. of course it doesn’t have to be perfect or AP style or anything like that. readers will overlook a certain amount of grammar mistakes and every reader has a different threshold. but in general, as a grammar geek and former journalism editor-in-chief, i have a duty to my grammurai code to preach the importance of grammar in writing. good grammar does not necessarily mean good writing and vice versa, bad grammar does not necessarily mean bad writing, but bad grammar makes good writing a lot harder to read, and in some cases will even obscure your actual meaning. so please, have someone read it. for the record this is me offering up my services. i am very good at fixing grammar. i have lots of weaknesses in writing but grammar is one of my strengths. please prioritize grammar. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

***

okay so now that i’ve said all of this shit and pretended to be an expert and embodied everyone’s tenth grade english teacher, let me add one very important disclaimer:

none of this is always relevant.* writing is an art, not a science. you are never going to be following all of the rules, all of the time. you shouldn’t. it’s good to know the basics of constructing a plot, establishing a character, showing and/not telling, moving the story along. but a lot of this advice is really subjective and heavily influenced by my writing experience and habits and tendencies and preferences, and those are simply not generalizable to the world. i am a sample size of one and science dictates that that means my results cannot be statistically significant. i am just some guy. earlier i said you don’t want to over-describe the world. but maybe you do! maybe you’re really into worldbuilding and you want people to know what they’re getting into. maybe you’re like sam, and you just don’t feel as confident in your dialogue skills but you love painting word pictures. i said that adverbs are your friend, but maybe you just prefer to use verbs. maybe you don’t want ANY dialogue tags and you want the reader to interpret the dialogue based on context and content. i said that characters aren’t people and they won’t behave like people, but maybe you’re trying to write hyper-realistic characters. maybe you’re just going for believability over narrative. WHATEVER. the point is, rules are made to be broken. no one is going to have The Answer for How To Write Good because there isn’t just one answer. every single writing rule has exceptions and you can be that exception as many times as you want.

*except grammar. grammar is fucking always relevant.

i hope any of this advice was helpful to you, even though i english teacher-ed the fuck out of it. and for what it’s worth, i approached this as if you were a relatively novice writer, but i know absolutely jack shit about your writing prowess and experience and habits. so maybe you already know all of this and none of what i’ve said is helpful at all. if you have a more specific problem, i would be happy to try and help. if you’re hoping for more specific feedback, i’d have to read something of yours first - but again, happy to try and help. i don’t know if you can tell but i loooove writing and english and grammar and all of this shit and it would be my honor. i have now spoken so long that james madison himself is begging me to shut up so i’ll stop here but thank you for coming by and giving me the opportunity to expatiate a shit ton. and GOOD LUCK i forgot the most important advice of writing which is HAVE FUN LOVE WHAT YOU WRITE AND WRITE WHAT YOU LOVE OKAY BYE

[verecunda]

WIP Meme

Tagged by @nocompromise-noregrets. Thankee, m’dear! I do like the gist of this one. It seems most therapeutic. XD

List the titles/filenames/descriptions of your WIPs and tell us a little bit about them/wail about them/beg for inspiration/whatever you want! Then tag some people for a no-obligation mutual wailing/cheering/complaining session!

Well, I’ve got two exchange assignments on the go (Chocolate Box and My Slashy Valentine), so I can’t really talk about them. Progress on both is rather... ahahahaha. XD As for the others...

Caranthir/Haleth - Yule

OH GOD IT WON’T END. WHY WON’T IT END?? I started writing it near the start of December and it’s still going. The original spark for this idea was just a short little exchange - Haleth explaining to Caranthir about the midwinter customs of the Haladin: lighting fires to encourage to sun to come back out of the dark, and getting a bit defensive, saying basically, “No doubt you think that sounds very twee.” To which Caranthir has a very vivid memory of the terror that gripped everyone at the Darkening of Valinor, and tells her in no uncertain terms that he thinks their customs are very reasonable. (Do the Elves of Middle-earth even know the nature of the sun and the moon at this point? They can probably guess Yavanna managed to salvage something from the Trees, but the Noldor were long gone before they were crafted.) Anyway, it kind of snowballed, and there’s been Yuletide feasting and dancing and heartfelt talks about family and loss etc, and at the last check-in they both had one too many and now they’ve Done It, and now they’re both wondering what might happen if she gets pregnant? could she get pregnant? can Eldar and Edain breed together? what would be the political ramifications if she got pregnant? (My H & C appear to be terminally practical like that!)

I just... I just wanted to write something short and fluffy and Christmassy, but now we’re halfway through January and I’ve still not finished the first draft. Just wait, I’ll end up posting this thing in like mid-July or something, because the fucker just WON’T END. 😫

Wherein the Worship of the Whole World Lies

(When in doubt, grub up a random Shakespeare quote for a title.) This is actually the first Angbang fic I started writing, back in *checks* October, but I’ve not actually made much progress beyond the halfway point. Mostly because from there it’s pretty much fierce dirtybadwrong smut, and my smut muse has apparently taken a sabbatical. (Which bodes well for my MSV assignment, which may well call for some sexytiems. >.>)

I have quite a few other Sauron-centric/Angbang pieces floating about my head: Melkor’s (not so) triumphant return to Angband, a possible follow-up to Beguiled by One, and a wee something about the crafting of Annatar. But since I’ve not written a word of them yet, they’re still nice mental images that aren’t giving me any trouble. :P

Legolas/Gimli - post-LOTR, Hobbit

A very exciting working title, I know. XD I wrote the beginning of this one last year, but I’m turning my attention back to it. Originally the idea was pretty simply: after LOTR, Legolas and Gimli go back to see their kin, and everyone is Scandalised™ by their relationship. Decidedly movie!verse, since I really want to have Gimli and Tauriel hitting it off right away, and Legolas being like “oh god, this is going to end so badly for me.” XD

But as I was thinking about it, I could see there was potential to explore lots of more emotional themes. Like Legolas seeing the damage done to Mirkwood during the battles there, and having a real heart to heart with his father about love and his place in the world etc. Then there’s the fact that Gimli will surely have to grieve for the death of Dáin, and he’ll also have to pass on the news about the loss of Balin and co. in Moria. I was throwing some ideas about with my sister the other day, and we agreed it would probably make for a better story if Legolas and Gimli aren’t an item at the beginning after all, but that all these other things help lead them to realise their true feelings.The idea is pretty irresistible, but… uh… there’s a lot of ground to cover, and it’ll almost certainly run into at least a few chapters, which… THIS IS WHY I ONLY WRITE ONE-SHOTS. I CANNOT DO PLOTS, I DO NOT DO PLOT, WHAT IS PLOT????

So, yeah, if anyone wants to hold my hand through this one, I’ll be very grateful indeed. X’D

That’s all for fanfiction. As far as original fiction goes:

Heartwood Abbey

The gothic ghost story thingy. Still redrafting this damn thing, though to be quite honest, I’ve not so much as glanced at it since before Christmas. >.> But I’d like to get it finally done and move on. My family keep going, “You should try to get it published!” which… lol, no. The entire thing is made of cliché and Easter eggs. That was always the point. I’ve had fun with it, it’s made me much more confident about my ability to see a story through to the end, and I’d like to make it the best I can before I draw a line under it. But just… lol, no.

The Votadini novel

Still in the research and planning stage for this one really, but I think I’ve got all the major plot threads sorted out. (Though that’ll undoubtedly change the minute I start writing in earnest. XD) As the title suggests, it’ll centre around the Votadini tribe of East Lothian and their place in that oh-so-volatile northern frontier of Roman Britain. I can’t help but feel there must have been quite a lot of times when their leaders felt that they were walking a very tricky tightrope, especially when war flared up between the Romans and the more northerly tribes. I’ve got a good idea of the main characters and all the various conflicts - but I still have no idea if that brooding Damnonii king actually has any bearing on things, or if he belongs in another story. Hopefully he’ll let me know soon. XD

I tag: @bryndeavour, @themalhambird, @di-daydreamer, @imakemywings, and anyone else who needs to scream a bit about their WIPs. :D

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

one night stand au for the ask game! (if ur still playing lols)

Yes I most definitely am! (Sorry this took us a sec, I had to consult with my better half 💕 )

This one has been unintentionally underwraps for months, but we work on it pretty much every night. This is a HotchReid roleplay fic, set in an AU where Reid doesn't join the BAU until season 3. And ends up meeting/sleeping with Hotch literally the night before his first day. But they don't know they will be working together when they do, not until Reid is walking into Hotch's office the next morning. And as hard as they try to have that be the end of it -- Hotch is his boss after all, they just can't be doing this -- they find themselves breaking the rules they set down for themselves. Again, and again, and again.

There's so much sex in this, we've already written at least 250k words and we're still going. It's so good. But it is... a lot of sex.

The lovely @spencehotchner writes for Hotch, and I'm writing for Spencer.

With +250k in my docs I feel like I kind of have to include a snippet, so it's below the cut. It's safe for work, sorry folks, just super long. Because I ramble like a mofo so my entries are so, so long. We still need to edit/beta everything but we do plan to post it at some point. Some day. It's too good to keep to ourselves.

--

Aaron smiles up at him goofily as Spencer tugs him up. "Mm, I'm coming, I'm coming." He scrambles up and follows him.

He would make breakfast if he could. He would make it so good, and kiss Spencer over coffee, and get to know him all day. He’d ask all the questions he wants to ask-- what makes him tick. What puts that beautiful smile on his face. What makes his brain whir, and his heart spin, and his body go electric. He wants to know all of the things that turn Spencer on, even outside of sex. He wants to know what he wakes up for in the morning. What he tastes like after a good cup of coffee.

Fuck work.

"What time do you get off work?" he asks.

Spencer turns to him, eyes wide and... hopeful. Fuck. Aaron is watching him, with this content and appraising look, like he's thinking of things they don't have time for -- not just the sexy things, but other things. He'd said something about coffee the night before, and for the first time since Spencer got word he'd been offered the position at the BAU, he really wished he didn't have to start today. He'd been looking forward to it for weeks.

But all he wants right now is to drink coffee with Aaron in his kitchen.

"Um, well -- first day and all. New team, new boss. Usually I'm nine to five, normal hours, but I don't know how late I'll be there or... if I'll be off early," he glances at Aaron from beneath his lashes, fingers still tangled together, shower beating against the tile behind them and steaming up the room. He pulls the man with him beneath the spray, straight into a kiss that's wet and slick as the shower warms them and sluices down their skin. 

He tries to pretend he isn't still shaking a little, aftershock tremors of their morning sex, and nerves about what Aaron is going to ask him. If he's going to ask him. 

"Did you have something in mind?" he dares to ask, and it's quiet and barely heard over the shower, but Spencer does ask it. He's proud of himself for that. The affect Aaron is already having on him is palpable, and Spencer likes it -- likes the way Aaron makes him feel. In general, and about himself.

Aaron hums, placing a small kiss on his lips, hiding a smile. "Yeah, well. There's this thing called dinner that people often do at night. I was planning on having it. Was wondering if you'd maybe join me."

It’s not subtle, not in the slightest, but Aaron is through with subtle for the moment. He’s ready to lay it out on the line, here. I want you, I know you want me.

Spencer's heart is about to beat out of his throat, and he smiles so wide he's all teeth and upturned lips and a deluge of pecks to Aaron's own smile that he tries to hide from him. They're basically the same height, the man can't hide a thing from Spencer when they are pressed this close.

"I'd love to," he beams, kissing him again a little deeper, a little more playful, and he's going to make them both late at this rate. But God, does Spencer love kissing Aaron. "I'd love nothing more."

Aaron smiles, pinching his side playfully. "Yeah? Well, I guess that means I'll have to get your number."

Aaron can imagine it now-- being on a case, seeing Spencer’s number on the device in his hand as he texts him good night. Them talking throughout the day today, in the future, little check ins on each other, because Aaron is sure he’s not going to be able to get this boy off his mind. It’ll be a struggle to do anything but text him all day.

He runs a hand through Spencer’s wet curls, playing with the ends of the strands, trying to memorize the way the shower’s steam paints a blush on Spencer’s cheekbones. Watercolor. Aaron could see him as a work of art.

God, he had to be crazy. But going home at night with a random stranger was crazy for him. Standing in his shower the next morning was crazy for him. Asking for his number was crazy for him.

Crazy felt good.

"Play your cards right, you might even get my last name," Spencer says cheekily, giggling and dodging out of the way as Aaron tries to pinch his side again. 

But he's... so happy, so delirious with it, that nothing could ruin his day now. Because he was going to have dinner with Aaron after his first day at work for the BAU, which he'd been dreaming about since Jason Gideon used it a lure to recruit him into the FBI just after his second Ph.D. 

For the first time, in a long time, his life felt pretty perfect.

Aaron grins and steals another long, slow kiss from him, feeling light and airy and good.

Fucking hell, does he feel good.

They get out of the shower and Aaron dresses as quickly as he can, because he really does need to go. As soon as he's dressed, though, he's pulling a half dressed Spencer into his arms to kiss him again.

Spencer manages to get into briefs and slacks and is trying to color coordinate some kind of dress shirt and sweater combination with a tie (literally everything is clean, this shouldn't be this hard) when Aaron is there pulling him into a searing kiss. Still damp from the shower, dressed in his clothes from last night, smiling against his mouth and Spencer can't help how he huffs out a laugh and kisses back with just as much enthusiasm. 

He really didn't want the man to go. But it was quickly approaching 7:00a.m. and D.C. traffic had to be hell, even with a cab. Spencer had always taken the train when he was at MIT, the East coast had a well established system. So he'd decided the week prior he would just do the same here and save himself the daily morning anxiety attack of trying to make it to work on time on his own. That's what public transportation was for. Regulated, mass transit. Set arrival and departure times. A soothing balm if there ever was one.

"Give me your phone," he says with a smile, still so close he basically speaks against Aaron's mouth. He takes the offered iPhone and puts his number in under his name, just his first name. Ready to make the man earn the rest of his personal information.

Maybe, if dinner went well, they'd have... all night to get to know each other. Was it too much to hope Aaron would stay the night again? Probably, but Spencer was in a dreaming mood. Reach for the stars, might as well. With everything going so well, it was only a matter of time before something happened to interfere.

God, he hoped they didn't catch a case on his first day.

Aaron smiles down at the name on his screen. Spencer. He pulls him into one more final kiss, his head spinning pleasantly. There will be more where that came from, he reminds himself. Prays hard in that moment to whoever is listening that he’ll be able to make it to... 

"Tonight," he promises. "I'll see you then."

--

The BAU Section Chief, SES Erin Strauss, is the one to greet Spencer when he arrives at the FBI building in Quantico. She's a stern woman, but friendly enough for someone in such a position of authority, and she seems very pleased that Spencer is there to join the team. Calls him 'Dr. Reid' often enough he knows either Gideon or his former team leader had mentioned it was something he was particular about -- or she was more concerned about his appeal politically than what he can do for the team.

He didn't let it sour his mood, though, because the morning had just been... too good to be ruined by something as trivial as that. Spencer had gotten the job, he was there in the building, had just received his badge and his gun and his ID card for the key-padded doors and a whole slew of other orientation day milestones.

And now he was on the seventh floor, about to walk into the Behavior Analysis Unit, where he can see people milling about busy as worker bees and his chest swells with nervousness and excitement and too many emotions to name. 

If not for Aaron, and their amazing night and morning together, Spencer would be all nerves and worry -- but the morning sex alone was enough to knock a lot of that tension out of his spine and shoulders. He was ready for today, more ready than he'd ever thought he'd be.

Chief Strauss leads him into the 'bullpen', as she calls it, a lower level agent holding the door open for both of them, and then she's leading him to a cluster of desks that must be part of the new team he's joining.

"Good morning," she says, startling a trio that was talking animatedly over coffee -- and then all eyes are on Spencer. "This is Dr. Spencer Reid, I'm sure you were expecting him. Is Agent Hotchner in, yet?"

The three standing there very obviously fight rolling their eyes, and Spencer gets the feeling it's not about him or his title as 'Dr. Reid' -- or he hopes not anyway. His hopes are confirmed when a pretty, petite blonde smiles sweetly and sincerely at him and introduces herself as "Jennifer Jareau, but call me JJ", the communication liaison for the unit. A position Spencer wasn't aware existed, but he could definitely see the merits of it. Then, she addressed Chief Strauss.

"Hotch is always here by 8:00 a.m." she says, in a way that was somehow not condescending, but probably should have been. "He'll be up in his office waiting for you, ma'am."

"Thank you. Agent Morgan. Agent Prentiss." She nods to the others, and Spencer merely waves and grimaces a smile, wanting to actually introduce himself and hoping the others understand at least a little bit. He isn't sure he can actually say no to the woman who was his boss's boss. 

"Erin, are you going to let him meet anyone?" says a voice from above them, just a half a level above the bullpen where offices line the walls -- and it's fucking David Rossi. Standing there, in the flesh, and Spencer is actually a little starstruck. Since when had David Rossi come out of retirement? He knows he's gaping a little bit, mouth parted on a million and one questions to ask the man, but at Chief Strauss's huff of indignation, he lets his jaw snap shut. 

Later. He can ask later. 

"Is Agent Hotcher ready for Dr. Reid? I'm sure you all have a case to go over," she says in a drone, and Spencer's stomach drops at that. Fuck, he hopes they don't have a case. He... has a date. That would probably be a bad excuse.

"I don't know," David Rossi says in a teasing lilt, then merely turns to the side and speaks into an open office door. "Hotch, you ready for Dr. Reid." 

Spencer is blushing down to his roots, and Rossi merely winks at him to show he's joking. Apparently, Chief Strauss was being over the top and not just like this all the time. That kind of makes the situation worse, in his opinion.

Strauss doesn't wait for an answer, and starts up the stairs with Spencer following and trying to get used to the team dynamic. David Rossi actually pats him on the shoulder as he tries to slip by. "Don't worry, he's all bark and only a little bite. And I'm pretty sure he still hasn't read your file yet." 

Well, that's not exactly promising.

Aaron still manages to show up about 15 minutes earlier than he had planned on. He had an extra suit at the locker in the office, and just went straight there to get dressed.

Which, of course, meant he had to run into David.

"So," David says, a shit-eating grin on his face. "Someone didn't need a ride home last night."

Aaron keeps his face stoic as he adjusts his tie, sitting down at his desk. "Do you need something, Dave?"

"Who was she?" David just barrels on, raising an eyebrow. "I wasn't under the impression that you were on the prowl last night, but I was apparently wrong."

Aaron stares him down.

"That good, huh?" Dave just grins, and grins and grins, and Aaron doesn't let the fact that he's had the most amazing morning in years show through on his face. Nothing can take away the fact that, on his phone, there's a number with the name Spencer beside it.

"I'm an adult," Aaron says, simple as that. "Now, can you leave? I still have to go over the--"

"Oh, he's here!" Dave says, looking out the door. Aaron's blinds are closed, and he raises an eyebrow. "Oh, he's young. Erin are you going to let him meet anyone?" David says as he steps out of the door.

Aaron laughs to himself, straightens his tie again, prepares himself to meet the newest team member. He hopes whoever this is will be good for him-- good for the team. He's nervous. He loves his team, thinks they have a great dynamic. Change is... different. After Elle had left, things had been rocky. No one could replace her, but this new kid was supposed to be something special.

Aaron would just have to see about that.

"Come in," he says, busying himself with some files to look like he isn't anticipating the worst, when a knock rasps at his door.

Chief Strauss knocks at the Unit Chief's door, the team leader that Spencer would be directly under for the foreseeable future, and just walks on in -- in fact, the knock seems a little last second. Like she doesn't usually announce herself when she comes in, and is on her best behavior in front of Spencer.

He's not sure why, it's not like he wouldn't find out how everything works around here eventually. He isn't going anywhere.

"Aar- ahem, Agent Hotchner," again, with the hesitation, acting formal. Spencer looks around the dark wooded office lined with books on Law and sadism and serial killers alike, until he turns to the desk against the wall. "This is Dr. Spencer Reid, your newest team member."

Sitting there is a man in a dark suit, broad shouldered, black hair, bent over some files spread on his desk and seemingly very intent on his work. Finishing whatever he was making note of before looking up at them.

Dark eyes. Darker lashes. Tunnel vision stare that pierces through Spencer, and all the breath escapes his lungs.

No.

Strauss turns back to him with a tight, friendly smile; unaware of the bomb that has just gone off inside Spencer's head.

"Dr. Reid, meet your new Unit Chief: Supervisory Special Agent, Aaron Hotchner."