#anyways long rambles that no one would listen to lets goo

[qulans6ri]

When i say “i want Jay to learn more about his bio parents or have him be shown conflicted or any other type of emotion about them”

i dont mean “yaay jay meets his real parents” because jay himself established (in skybound) that his parents are and will always be Ed and Edna(love them so much!!), but that doesnt mean that Libber and Cliff arent an important and interesting part of his character,

Cliff still knew that Jay was his child and had pictures of him in his office(or whatever it was i forgot), and watched after him, but that doesnt mean that he also wasnt a an absent and bad parent because he was as seen below:(+skybound fact)

So this makes it so much interesting, he still loved him but also wasnt a great father(and a husband)

And Libber is a whole other story!!! I cant even desrcibe how many possibilities this leaves for her!

Knowing Prime Empire’s og plot(where she would be used as a living battery for the game by Milton Dyer(i think thats the right name lol)) ,i think that she cared for jay but left either due to such kidnapping or dangerous adventures, or due to toxic relationship and inability(no emotional support, being scared for jay due to her own dangerous lifestyle etc etc)to raise a kid well and im 100% she would not want Cliff to raise Jay lmaoo

Its just that u cant have so much information and not actually illustrate it, no Jay doesn’t have to super want to meet or know about libber or gordon, his parents are Ed and Edna, but maybe at least explain them more through other stuff or smth idk, anyways Ed,Edna and Jay 🔛🔝

[wannaeatramyeon]

Love your blog! 🥹 Can you write some general Gun and Goo headcannons? They’re such a fun duo I can’t- 🤠

Thank you for being so sweet anon and again sorry for the looong delay. Take this complete and utter word vom. I.. I don't really know what this is apart from a ramble presented in bullet points.

Gun Park + Goo Kim: Duo headcanons

Fuck, I love these two.

Let's start from the top.

Gun and Goo might not always get on, often behaving more like a bickering old married couple one step away from throttling each other, but they absolutely respect one another.

Begrudgingly so. Meeting someone that can go toe to toe with them does not happen every day.

Being secret friends or successor though, is completely out of the question. They never even considered it in the first place despite Gun ticking most of Goo's criteria and vice versa.

Both completely unhinged and chaotic in very different, often clashing, ways. Finding each other grating, fighting skills complementing each other due to circumstance rather than naturally.

Gun thinks of Goo as a disloyal, flighty and greedy maniac. Whereas Goo sees Gun as a dull stick-in-the-mud who only cares about fighting.

They're both right.

Gun doesn't care much for material goods. He will still buy the best of the best, because why the hell not. However, he does not form any sentimental attachment to it.

Goo is surprisingly similar. Often preferring shopping sprees as a form of a power trip and to show off how rich he is. There is a fleeting thrill of buying something he wants, but ultimately it gets discarded.

Stealing Gun's things, on the other hand, much more rewarding for Goo.

The first time he laid eyes on Gun wearing the striped yellow shirt and scarf combo, Goo knew he had to have it. Besides, it would look much nicer on him, dont you think? What the hell is Gun Park doing wearing such bright colours anyway.

In all honesty, Gun doesn't waste enough energy on clothing to say anything when he saw Goo in his outfit. Although he did roll his eyes and take an extra long drag of his cigarette.

(A/N: I love the idea of Goo stealing Gun's clothes. But I tend to flip flop between how private Gun is, keeping his work and personal life completely separate. )

If the outfit isn't stolen, then it would mean Goo went out and bought the exact same thing... Which is funnier if you think about it.

Because the sheer amount of effort that that takes, finding the same top, same scarf - because why the fuck would Gun tell him where he got it even if Goo did ask.

The fact that Goo takes a significant time out of his day just to fuck with Gun. Truly, what an idiot. Does he have nothing better to do?

Spending so much time together, they pick up naturally on each other's likes and dislikes. Well, Gun does anyway. Goo does most of the talking, and the few times Gun does talk - Goo doesn't even bother to listen.

Unfortunately, that means if someone asked Gun what happened on the latest episode of an anime series, he would be able to recite exactly what Goo has told him, and then afterwards beat them up for asking in the first place.

There's a closeness there that disgusts them both equally with how well they know each other. Music preferences, how they take their coffee. Knowing each other's mood like their own. Ugh.

Life carries on though and there's still shit to do. WIth most of their waking moments spent together, they weave in their own errands between jobs and missions.

At least Goo does. Gun's life is much more orderly instead of a whirlwind of chaos. He is proactive and reactive whereas it appears to him that Goo will just fulfil his own whims as they come up.

Either way, Goo is the one driving and it's his car so Gun has no choice but to go with.

Well. Gun can stay in the car like some sort of pitiful dog awaiting their master's return or join in with Goo.

He usually opts for the latter, and also regrets it too. For example, getting cookies together for fuck's sake. Grabbing ice cream. Ring shopping!

Really, don't let anyone tell you that Gun is impatient. He puts up with far too much from his blonde partner. He can be extremely level headed, often choosing to walk away from things not worth his time rather than waste his energy. There's a lot of hill where he would prefer not to die on where Goo Kim is concerned.

If you asked Goo what was the one thing he hated most about Gun, the ensuing silence would be the longest he has ever been quiet for. Because there really is so much he hates about that fucking guy.

Just one? Then Goo would likely say the smoking. Not only does it stink, but the smell seeps into the car interior and lingers on everything. Goo often likes to pretend he's choking when Gun lights up. Putting on a coughing fit and spraying spittle everywhere until Gun walks away in disgust.

If you asked Gun what he hated most about Goo Kim? Completely deadpan and straight faced, he would say 'everything'.

[azz4me]

ok long ago in the dark ages few months back, back when I had no one who'll listen to my joongoo rambles, and I was newly in love, I would seek out fanart of him everywhere

I think the first time I saw kitsune joongoo was somewhere on pinterest and I was like "cuteee" But nothing much more but then that adorbs tart acc posted that fucking beautiful kitsune goo and I had DIED

THAT ONE IMAGE GRIPPED MY NECK AND I COULDN'T BREATHE SINCE

I had,,, SOOOOOOOO MANY THOUGHTS. The possiblities. The scenerios. The imagination.KITSUNE GOO!!!!!

So naturally I drew him allot but I also had a very vivid imagination series kinda in my head---

Soooo

~

Not really fic more like idea dumping(Kitsune goo x fem!oc you can say? Except I never decided her name)

~

There's this lady, in traditional attire and she's really nice but unsocial with society and spends most her times studying mythical beings, which makes everyone in town thinks she's a witch.

For that she lives deep somewhere in a forest in her home or what she calls her temple, in the privacy and nature where she studies the supernatural.

Something something happens she stumbles upon something something back to her temple-

She sets up the items she found in her ritual stand and begins reading the things written on the item peace and gasp

Suddenly everything glows and a hot man groans, standing on top of the ritual set up, well not a man… A KITSUNE!!

He's confused, he looks at her like "how am I here?" And she explains she, taken aback but also having done rituals to summon mythical creatures before, explains that she found him through something plot convenience something and he chuckles.

"Wow you talk really formally.. Huh, so I was incased to eternal sleep after…" and before he could reveal more plot he cuts himself off and grins at the lady.

"Your eyes are fixated on my tails, do you want to touch them?" He says and his 9 fluffy tails wag, inching closer to the lady's hand.

The lady being polite first tries decline but she's human she can't resist, TOUCH TOUCH TOUCH- Soft tail pats… Joon goo let's out cute fox noises (BAAAH M DEAD)

he chuckled and held her hand to stop her from totally getting engrossed only in his tail, and she retreats, embarrased, "ah, apologies, it's that I've studied your kind through only tales before, finally having met a kitsune.. I'm just in awe."

The lady explains, goo cuts her off and says "Goo. I have a name, call me goo.." He smiles, perhaps had gotten a bit annoyed by the lady continuously referring to him as a kitsune but he wasn't offended.

more conversation happens, goo acts flirty cause yes, one scene in particular I imagined

"May I study you? I'm very fascinated by your stature..." she asks innocently, but goo being the mischievous fox leans very close and whispers in her ears "You want to know how kitsunes show their love to people that respect them?"

She shivered and pulled back, "ah thatll be too much of an honour!" she exclaims naively,and goo melts cause she's so innocent and sweet

Some more stuff happens (actually its already getting so long so I'm cutting off small small imaginations I had Inbetween, my mind continued with this one story for A MONTH so it has lots of moments-)

Somewhere inbetween goo knows he has to go and take his revenge and get answers for how he was encased, so after staying with the lady in her temple until he regained his normal strength, he decided he'll have to leave.

The lady doesn't want to be left alone again, she has so much to learn about him too, goo feels he doesn't want to part ways either.. He hasn't felt this peace with someone since...forever. He would miss the gentle tail pats and getting his ear scartched too...

"Come with me, lady" He offered softly, smiling. "You have more to learn about the mythical world anyways.. And... I said I'll show you a kitsunes love too right?"

~

Idk why dafuq I felt the need to aesthetify the imagination,, god there's so much I skipped over too but it's so longgggg and so out of character

anyways yeah so basically I love kitsune goo.

~🍞

THAT ART OF TART'S HAD ME SEEING HEAVEN FOR A SECOND. MY JAW DROPPED WHEN I SAW IT!!! IT WAS FUCKING FUCKING BEAUTIFUL!!! I HAVE THAT DOWNLOADED ON MY FOLDERS AND IT'S EHEHEHEH- IT'S SO FUCKING PRETTY LIKE NONE WILL UNDERSTAND ME!!! I WOULD KILL TO SEE THAT IRL. THAT'S LIKE ONE OF MY FAV GOO FANARTS AND THE OTHER BEING OF iwasneverthere true to their name, garden1a and del-png klshaegvbkuo like those arts are so fucking goooodddddd AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH makes me tear up evertime i see their goo art, the true rulers of goo fandom

I am so happy i saw this before I went outside and start chasing someone with a bat. This is so cute and adorable💝💝💝💝💝💝💥💥💥

why is kitsune goo not real. It's fucking sad that the earth will never see the true beauty😞😞😞

THE TAILS. THE TAILLSSSSS!!!gv!KUFVSACFYLIGYIFYF I NEED RTO TOUCH RHEM OII WANT TO QGVABBUscuuiqguhieefschiecfhniqfhqefhi;,jb klugbkuoawgefkUIW2GFIUGwfgugefbkudsgbvukgskdgu kzxb vhzvczhch ugca ug caugc uagc scg asogcacgaus couag df ugcui avgsfoiugfgqwqbkl hi oq 3yt 021yr hfe tc avc v c8agu ogo hchcoys

[motherjoel]

Leading Lady (Spencer Reid x Reader)

chapter six- whispers of are you sure

wc: 2.1k

summary: you and spencie get closer owo

a/n: im sorry i haven’t posted a chapter in awhile :/

chapter index: chap 1, chap 2, chap 3, chap 4, chap 5

-

You started to stir from your nap when you heard hushed voices a few desks down. Remaining quiet, you kept your head down to listen in on the conversation.

“Listen man, it sounds like you’re crushin hard on this girl,” you recognized Morgan's voice. Reid spoke next in hushed tones.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about her, it's just unprofessional. And besides, she would probably go for a guy like you anyway,” said Spencer.

You could feel your heart break. It didn’t take a genius to know that they were talking about you, but it saddened you to hear about Spencer’s lack of confidence. In your eyes, he was the ideal man. You wanted to show that to him one day. 

“Now you listen to me. You gotta stop getting in the way of your own happiness. Any girl would be lucky to have you, you just have to see it for yourself,” Morgan told him, warming your heart. This team was like a family, and you had to admit, you were a little jealous about their love for each other, but it was good to know that Spencer had such a great support system. You felt kind of weird listening in, however, so you decided to “wake up.” Slowly lifting your head, you yawned and stretched before looking over at the two men with a sleepy smile, pretending to just realize that they were there.

“Hey sleepy head,” said Morgan before getting up and turning to Spencer. “I gotta help Hotch with something,” he told him, leaning in to say the next part more quietly. “Remember what I told you,” he said before clapping Spencer on his shoulder and ruffling your hair when he walked past you. You smiled at the exchange and turned back to see Spencer nervously picking at his fingernails. 

“So, what'd I miss? You catch the guy yet?” you asked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Spencer just chuckled nervously and shook his head.

“No, not yet,” he paused, thinking of what to say next. “I’m glad you got some sleep in. Studies show that most healthy adults need to get between 7 and 9 hours of sleep each night to function at their best,” he told you, continuing to nervously ramble, citing multiple facts about sleep. You just smiled at him, not fully processing his words. You were just mesmerized by his intelligence and passion for mundane facts. He noticed you staring. “What?” he asked nervously.

“Oh I'm sorry,” you said, flustered. “It's just… you're cute when you ramble,” you blushed and looked down. Spencer had the same reaction.

“Oh. Most people think it's annoying, the team normally cuts me off,” he said, avoiding eye contact. You could almost see the gears turning in his head, almost as if he regretted saying that for fear of judgement. 

“If anything, it's... endearing,” you said, lifting your head back up to meet his gaze. He looked surprised that someone enjoyed his quirks. To you, this is what made him genuine and irresistible, irreplaceable. The two of you stared intensely for a moment before you started to speak at the same time.

“I thin-” you started.

“Do you-” he began.

You both laughed in response to this, the silence continuing for a moment longer.

“Y/N,” he started, with a shakiness in his voice, “I know we’ve only known each other for a few days, but I really care about you. Every time I have a breakthrough on this case, the first person I think of is you,” he started. You got up from your desk to walk closer to him as he went on. “And I don’t know what to call that, but you’re just really pretty and you’re so nice to me and you always are interested in what I have to say and you smell really goo-” you cut him off by softly grabbing the sides of his face. 

“I have never met anyone like you before,” you told him in awe, stars in your eyes. He mimicked your expression, his surprise melting into adoration. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and he wordlessly nods, accepting what you had so badly wanted to do from the minute you met him. Slowly, you leaned in until you were an inch away from his face.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, wanting to confirm your mutual feelings. You weren't imagining this, right? Spencer didn't wait a second to wordlessly accept. With a small but nervous laugh, he closed the distance between his chapped lips and yours, resting his hands on your waist and pulling you closer. It was as if you were in a movie, the magical spark between you two. Your kisses with Logan hadn’t been like this- they didn’t hold this emotion, this longing. Logan's kisses were chores, not luxuries. A few seconds, what could have been hours, had passed before you pulled away and rested your forehead on his, eyes still closed. You wanted to savor this moment of peace, this calm before the inevitable storm. You both jump to the sound of an attention grabbing cough. Turning around you see a sly Prentiss, feigning gravitas.

“Uh, Hotch wants to see you. We’re going over possible unsubs and he thinks it would be good for you guys to be there. But, by all means, finish what you were doing first,” she said with a wink before speed walking into the conference room where the rest of the team was.

“So…” you trailed off.

“Yeah, so…” he replied looking at you with his blush still lingering.

“We should probably go see what's up,” you told him, although you didn’t want your time with him to end.

“Good idea,” he replied, and the two of you began your walk into the conference room, his hand resting on the small of your back as he led you. Once you got inside and settled in a seat next to JJ and Spence, you looked around to see the entire room staring at you with odd smiles. Rossi even shoots you a wink. Huh, word really does get around fast. You didn’t mind them knowing, however- you knew you had their support if Spence was happy. And that's all you could ask for.

“So about those unsubs!” Spencer starts, trying to diffuse the childish energy in the room. 

“Right,” Hotch begins, trying to hide his own sly smirk. “We found out that the time of death of the latest suspect was at around 5:30, just like you thought,” said Hotch in a more serious tone.

“That would give Nichols the perfect amount of time to make the kill and then show up late to rehearsal,” replied Rossi. You were shocked.

“Wait, Nichols? As in Matt Nichols, my Matt Nichols?” you asked, frantically. Reid flinched at your intensity and the use of “my” when referring to Matt, but you didn’t care. Matt might get on your nerves sometimes but you wouldn’t let him take the fall for something like this. You couldn’t have one of your leads getting arrested the week before the show, either. “A guy shows up late to one rehearsal and you assume he's a serial killer? Man, he can’t catch a break,” you huffed with a mirthless smile. 

“Y/N, you have to admit, he fits the profile perfectly,” offered JJ, you just shook your head.

“I see the way he looks at you,” said Spencer, softly. As he continues he attempts to speak with more conviction but to you it sounded like he was trying to prove some far fetched conspiracy. “And that guy is possessive. When we kissed at your rehearsal the guy looked like he wanted to kill me!’ he said, trying to convince you. The mention of the kiss earned a whistle from Garcia on her screen. 

“Not the time, Garcia,” Spencer snapped. You were in shock. The nerve he possessed to be giving an attitude right now surprised you. You could tell he was just on edge because he cared about you, but you didn’t want him snapping on his teammates because of you. 

“I’m sorry you guys, but just because Matt and I used to have a ‘thing,’ doesn’t mean he wants me dead,” you said, standing up and walking out of the room. Your head was spinning and you needed some fresh air. 

You grabbed Spencer’s sweater from where you left it on the chair and tugged it on before making your way outside. Once you were finally in the cold air you felt like you could breathe. How could this happen? Only a few short days ago you were at the top of your game, starring in your dream role and working towards a promotion at work, granted, the amount of times you had to call out for FBI business might affect that. The BAU threw a wrench in your whole life, but for some reason, you couldn’t be mad at them for it. JJ was like the sister you never had- the two of you were immediately connected and you didn’t want to lose her. Garcia was the hilarious and beautiful best friend you had always needed in your life, always ready to lighten the mood. Hotch, stern as he could be, was a compassionate leader and you were so glad the team had him. Morgan was protective and so sweet- even just knowing you for a short period of time, he had nothing to offer but kindness. Prentiss was smart as a whip and loved to tease you and Spence, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Through your savored but limited interactions with Rossi, you could tell he was a father figure for the team. This was a bit of a sore spot with you, but you hoped you could get closer with him over time. And Spencer. He was so frustratingly great. Great at his job, great at making you feel safe, great at… well… everything. You felt so lucky to know all these people and bond with them, you almost forgot your frustrations with them. But, after all, they were the professionals. If it came down to it, you would try to vouch for Matt but if they suspected him, you would trust their instincts.

You removed yourself from your thoughts and were about to make your way back inside when you heard quick footsteps from behind you and a sharp pain on the back of your skull before it all went black.

-

Inside the station, the team continued their conversation about the case. Spencer, however, was pacing around the conference room worried that he just screwed up what you two had going. Rossi excused himself from the team and walked over to Spence to put a calming hand on his shoulder.

“Go. Make sure she’s okay, we can handle this,” he told him, and that’s all it took for Spencer to bolt out of the room and out of the station. Looking around, his heart dropped when he didn’t see you. He tried calling your name a few times but he was received without a response. That's when the panic began to set in. He sprinted back inside the station and ran to the team, face red and panting.

“She’s gone.”

-

You woke up in an empty room, seated in a chair with your arms strapped behind you while your legs were tied together. Looking up you could see a tripod with a camera, filming your every move. Things began to make sense- the unsub had finally tracked your whereabouts and had taken you hostage. You couldn’t help but let out a dry laugh at the circumstances. You had thrown away your life just because you were upset about an assumption a trained team of professionals made. You had thrown away the life that you had worked so hard to want. Your father's passing had left you in a terrible place where your mind wandered to the unthinkable. These thoughts were something you had struggled with your whole life. You never planned on actually taking your life, but some mornings you were disappointed to wake up. It wasn’t until recently that you regained the will to take advantage of what life had to offer. Your passion for theatre was reignited and you met an amazing group of people- a group that you weren’t ready to say goodbye to yet. You were shaken from your thoughts when you noticed a shadowy figure enter the room from the door opposite of you- this figure was familiar, one you recognized. 

“Matt?”

-

taglist: @mcntsee, @diesinspanishbcimhispanic, @chickens-are-life, @rexorangecouny, @ceeellewrites, @aerialdinosaur, @just-damn-bored

[aperrywilliams]

For You, for Me and for Us (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist

———————

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer and Reader share their feelings in a very special occasion for their family.

Word Count: 2169.

Warnings: Just a reference of sex (not explicit). Pure fluff. I need some of this sometimes.

A/N: This one is short, I promise. I got some inspiration from the Goo Goo Dolls’ song “Boxes”. If you can, listen it while, before or after reading. Remember my friends: impressions, comments and any reaction are welcomed. Thanks for reading!

——————–

We'll have tiny boxes for memories

Open them up and we'll set them free

There'll be bad days and some hard times

But I'll keep your secrets, if you keep mine

You are the memory that won't ever lapse

When twenty-five years have suddenly passed

Wherever you take me, it's clear I will go

Your love's the one love that I need to know

——————–

It was a hot July night. The patio had a beautifully decoration: a lot of white flowers hanging from the windows and walls. There were ten tables settled around the dance floor. All the guests sited enjoying dinner. The background music was calm, perfect for the moment.

Spencer and I were sitting at the main table looking at the guests who were staring back at us with big smiles. Some even raising their wine glasses in celebration attitude to us.

"This night has been exhausting, don't you think?" I said to Spencer in a minute. He glanced at me with a nod.

“The day in general has been exhausting. My feet hurt and I miss my bed right now,” he replied with a pout.

"You shouldn't complain so much. I'm the one who is wearing heels tonight,” I growled as I moved my feet in circles motions remembering the discomfort I was feeling at the moment.

"The shoes I'm wearing aren't the definition of comfort either, so we could say I share your pain. Also this tux is less comfortable than I thought." His words were accompanied by a grimace.

"And we have a lot of night and dance ahead..." I added to make our torture more miserable.

"I think we could skip the dance, right?" Spencer suggested winking at me.

"Spencer, I know you don’t like to dance but, do you want to disappoint all the guests? such bad host!." I said teasing him.

“It’s a wedding. By definition the most important thing in a wedding should be the ceremony, not the dance,” he complained.

"It's a party anyway. And at parties there is dancing. And the hosts dance. Period.” I said in a severe tone.

“I don't know where you got that rule from, but I'm not going to argue with you about that now. Look over there!". He shook his head, pointing to one of the tables.

I turned around a bit to get better vision. I couldn't help but smile when I saw our daughter doing photos with her fiance - now her husband - and the guests of one of the tables.

"She looks so beautiful...". I said barely holding my breath. I was so thrilled to see her right now. I felt my eyes fill with tears of pure emotion.

"She is beautiful. And in that dress it reminds me so much of you when we got married,” added Spencer. In his eyes I could only see love and adoration for her.

"Have you seen her so happy before?". I asked him, taking his hand and squeezing it gently.

"I guess I can't compare this to the times she was a little girl and we ran around the house pursuing to each other or playing tickle war," Spencer replied with a sigh.

"You're right. They are different things”. I rested my head on his shoulder. At that demonstration of affection, Spencer began stroking one of my cheeks with his thumb.

“That were the times when she really needed us. Now for her we are disposable. Now we are just her annoying parents.” Spencer said in a melancholic tone and perhaps unaware that he had voiced his thoughts out loud.

"And where did that come from?" I asked raising my head to look him in the eye.

"Uhm?" He looked back at me confused. Indeed, he didn’t realize he had said the last thing out loud.

"Spencer Reid, about the last thing you said… why are you so annoyed?" I asked him.

"I’m not annoyed (Y/N). I’m jealous.” he confessed a little ashamed. I burst out laughing.

"Why are you jealous?, she won’t stop loving you because she is married now." I tried to explain to him.

"I know, but I won't be her favorite man in the world anymore..." Spencer said with a shrug. There I understood.

I don't know if it will be something that happens to all fathers. When I married Spencer my dad had the same concern. It seems true that when you're dad's little girl, it most difficult to them let you go.

Emi has always been Spencer's favorite. In addition to being the oldest of our three children - after Emi, came Theo and then Abby - she is the one who missed him the most when he was away from home, the one who loved the most his bedtime stories, the one who most insisted to him to go out to the park and play with her, the one who could be always running around him in the house while he was reading on the couch.

While she physically has few Spencer attributes - like his nose - she certainly inherited much of his intelligence and the love of learning new things and always be rambling about everything.

Given that, I'm not surprised that he's more concerned and vulnerable. I’m, too, but I can understand that their special bond makes this more difficult for Spencer right now.

"Don’t worry. You won’t stop being her favorite. But you’ll have to learn to share…”

"Only if you can assure me he'll make her really happy. If he ever hurts her in any way, I swear I’m capable of…”. Just imagining Emily suffering for something immediately awoke in him anger and despair. I guess that will never change.

“Calm down Reid. You seem crazy acting like this right now. Look, now they are at the BAU table.” I told him. I was trying to he would focus on something else and stop imagining things.

While he watched in that direction I could see a bright smile on my husband's face. Despite the years, the BAU were still part of our family. At least those who remain. Life and the time’s passing are unforgiving, no matter what we do to try to avoid it.

"Wow, long time since I saw JJ and Will. They seem to be less affected by the years than we are,” said Spencer.

"Speak for yourself, old man. I still feel like a 30 years old woman.” I said jokingly.

Looking at him his eyes clearly said 'you're kidding right?' I moved closer so I could whisper in his ear.

“Come on Spencer . It’s not so bad either. You still do a good job in bed. So don’t worry so much either.” I said with a playful smile. Spencer blushed. I can't believe I still have the ability to make him blush after all these years together. He tried to change the subject by alluding to the other guests at the table.

"Hank is equal to Morgan when we started at BAU. He has exactly the same features and posture. And Morgan looks like he's hopefully 50 years old. The bastard aged like wine." I couldn't help but laugh at the comment.

“The gym years seem to be helping after all. We should have trained more with him when we worked together,” I said. Spencer nodded at my statement.

"I wish Prentiss was here," Spencer said at one point.

"Me too. I'm sure Emi misses her too.” I added, squeezing his hand gently.

Prentiss was the godmother of our Emily. Although Spencer had been JJ's friend for long before, with Prentiss the friendship was developed over the years and became very strong and lasting. Just like my friendship with her. I owe a lot to Prentiss, among other things, having come to work at the BAU. For all that and how much she supported us during our relationship, we decided to give her name to our first daughter. Unfortunately, Prentiss had passed away less than a year ago, positioning herself in the BAU's 'remembered' club, along with Rossi and Hotch.

All these losses reminded us that the years do not pass in vain, but that the love for them does not cease even though the time is implacable. They will always be part of our family and our hearts.

"What are you thinking about?" Spencer asked me after noticing I was silent looking at our daughter doing photos with the rest of the guests.

"About we made such beautiful children." I replied laughing. The truth was I didn’t want to reveal my true thoughts of that moment. But I have never been able to hide those things from Spencer, he always realizes when I’m putting something away. Sometimes he pushes me to say it, other times he lets me keep my little secret thoughts.

"I know. But that is not what you are thinking." This time he was going to pressure me to tell him. After a sigh I started to speak.

"It's just... I don't know. Sometimes it seems so surreal that we have been able to stay together all these years and manage to start a family on our own. After all the things we've been through… I don't know, did you ever have doubts about that?” I asked him.

Spencer released my hand to settle on the edge of the chair so he could look me straight in the face. He took my cheeks in his hands to make sure I made eye contact with him.

“(Y/N), this is an accomplishment of both of us. And despite of our ups and downs I'll never regret having bet on us. You’re and will continue to be the love of my life. You gave me some wonderful children and you make me immensely happy. And for every day that passes, the love and adoration I feel for you does not decreases in the least”. He sealed his words with a deep kiss, full of love, which I reciprocated with equal intensity. When we pulled away we both smiled.

"Jeez Spencer. I don't know how you manage to say all those things and make me cry.” I said trying to hold back tears that started to roll down my cheeks. He began to dry my tears with his thumbs. I could see that he was equally touched, with watery eyes, also leaking a few tears.

"Now we are old grumpy and crybaby," he said with a huff. I could only nod. The age and emotions of that day had us very sensitive. I rested my head on his shoulder again, watching the photo tour in the guest tables.

"When we got married, did you think we were going to be like this now?" I asked him suddenly.

"Maybe only in dreams," he replied.

“It's been a little over 25 years since that day." I said with a sigh. He looked at me with those loving eyes that captured me from almost the first day.

"And not a day of these 25 years have I doubted us" boasted the very cheeky.

"Don't lie, Reid. We haven't had a dream marriage, either.” A light blow to his forearm was what he received for such audacity.

“I know baby, but what effect do a couple of days have on the 9165 days we been married? In my opinion they do not statistically affect the result” he defended himself laughing.

"Such nerd! shut up and kiss me," I replied, before taking his tie and pulling him closer to give him another kiss.

"I love you too (Y/N)" he told me when we pulled away.

Our intimate moment was broken when Emily approached the table and stared at us with her hands resting on her waist.

“I'm sorry to interrupt you lovebirds, but it's time for the waltz . Are you ready dad?” Emily asked.

"We were just talking about it with your dad. How anxious he was to dance tonight.” I said teasing Spencer. Emily started to laugh. She knew as much as I did that Reid almost hated to dance in public. Spencer gave me a disapproving look as he got up from the chair.

"I’m ready if you are, Emi." Spencer answered as he took our daughter's arm.

"Perfect!. Mom, come on!. You have to dance too!”

"I will baby. Let me finish my glass of wine. In the meantime, try not to let your dad stumble on the dance floor,” I said, laughing. Spencer just shook his head without even looking back at me.

I saw them walking arm in arm to the dance floor. Sure I'd join them, but I wanted to look at both of them first. It was one of those moments that I wanted to witness and treasure in my memory and my heart by my own. The love of my life with our first fruit of love. A journey that started a new story this day, a new story for Emily, for Spencer, for me... for us.

——————–

[anika-ann]

If You Stumble... - Pt.1

Step One

Type: Three-shot, part of a soulmate AU series  (part 1 here)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word count: 3300

Summary: If you stumble...make it part of the dance.

In which you ask Steve what your date would look like if you lived the forties. He decides to show you instead. There are few flaws, holes to see through to glimpse beyond that illusion. 

But what life would be besides boring if everything was perfect? Perfect dress. Perfect date. Perfect gentleman…?

CH1 - Starring: innocent questions, soft, witty and badass Steve, unfazed Fury, likeable Agent M. and Tony being a surprisingly good bro.

Warnings: swearing, light angst, FLUFF, very brief violence if that even counts...

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It was an innocent question really or you thought so.

Steve was walking you home after date number seven – officially anyway, with how attached you became to your phone, you might as well say you were on one never-ending date, only taking a time-out when sleeping –, talking about everything and nothing. You had been bowling, your idea after you had found out he had never played before and yet he handed your ass to you, kissing it better (kissing your loser’s pouting better, not your bottom, you still weren’t there).

“So… you got a taste of a 21st century date. What dating looked like in the late thirties and forties?” you hummed, glancing at him curiously as you walked side by side, hand in hand.

You purposely didn’t ask him about dating in ‘his time’; despite him telling you he wasn’t fully accustomed to the 21st century, you couldn’t see it 98% of the time. He belonged here as much as he had probably belonged back there.

“Hm…” Steve mused, apparently giving it serious consideration and you smiled for yourself, wondering if he was thinking about an ideal date he would come up with in the past. In the end, he shrugged. “Dancing was popular back in the day. Music and dancing. Going to pictures too.”

He fell silent then, not elaborating, seemingly lost in thoughts. You leaned into his arm, guilt settling in your stomach. You hadn’t meant to sadden him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, earning a confused glance. “I didn’t want to… poke at sore spot.”

He blinked and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he shook it and stopped in his tracks – hence preventing you from continuing your gait too as his fingers were still interlaced with yours. His free hand cupped your cheek and his lips found your forehead first before pecking your own.

“You didn’t,” he declared, giving you a half-hearted smile. You looked up into his eyes, knowing for sure he wasn´t telling the truth, and raised an eyebrow. His smile grew more sincere after that, his thumb stroking your cheek softly. “I promise.”

You sighed, but shortly met his lips once more, letting it go and obediently started rambling about your first experience with bowling.

You knew Steve wasn’t quite listening, mostly because when you stopped talking, he didn’t react. You spent the rest of the walk in silence, him lost in another world and you mentally kicking yourself with vigour, anxiety twisting your insides. You hated you had made Steve brood.

Stupid, stupid woman!

With Steve having been absent-minded for the past few minutes, it took you off guard when you reached your building and he suddenly tugged sharply on your hand, forcing your body to spin, and caught your mouth in a searing kiss.

You blinked, shocked, gripped his shoulders to maintain your balance, but soon let yourself melt into him, relaxing into the kiss that set you on fire despite not expecting the lunge. His fingers curled around your nape, his tongue dancing with yours, stealing the air from your lungs and effectively turning your bones into goo.

Your head was spinning by the time his forehead rested against yours, your lips parted, unable to form words. Steve tenderly caressed your nose with his.

“Let me take you out,” he breathed out, making your eyes, fallen shut at some point of his ministration, snap open. A baffled chuckle escaped you at the request.

“What?”

Both of his palms framed your face as he stole another kiss, this time softer, soothing. He was smiling, his eyes twinkling with something that brought the butterflies in your stomach to life.

What was he talking about though? Did you miss something? You thought you were dating. Wasn’t going out, spending time together, kinda the point? You’d admit your brain was floating a bit thanks to his unexpected display of affection, but you weren’t that out of loop, right? Why would he ask that?

“Let me take you out,” he repeated, voice firmer. When you inspected his face for any hint of what he meant, still confused, he finally clarified. “You said I had a taste of the 21st century dating. Well, I’d like to show you a bit of the old Brooklyn charm.”

Your heart pondered in your chest, threatening to burst at the sweet suggestion. You observed his expression for a long time, seeking any trace of the idea bringing back painful memories, regret of unfulfilled wishes of the past, but you saw none. He radiated nothing but hope and eagerness.

Your lips unwittingly spread in a smile nearly wide enough to tear your mouth.

“Really?” you checked carefully, his barely audible ‘yeah’ brushing your lips. “Then yes.”

You didn’t think his expression could light up more, but clearly you were wrong. He rewarded you with another breath-taking kiss, lifting you few inches above the ground, which caused you to giggle.

Was it possible to burst from happiness? You were feeling pretty close to that, the L word threatening to roll off your tongue. You barely held it back, but still did, worried it might ruin the moment, so preciously shining with delight.

“Okay. Thank you.”

He pressed another firm kiss to your forehead, himself grinning like a fool, and set you back on the ground. You didn’t want to say goodbye, but you knew it was inevitable. He had told you he was heading out for a mission in the morning; simple one, he had claimed, but he still needed to get some shuteye.

Looking up to him seriously, you pleaded him to be careful and stay safe. He promised to do so, the giddiness not quite leaving his aura.

You found yourself falling asleep light-hearted, leaving worries for tomorrow.

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Steve finished the mission the very same day he left for it. The relief washing over you was way bigger than you were willing to admit; to be fair, Steve may have been slightly more hurt than he was willing to admit, so you called it even. He also insisted on ‘taking you out’ on Saturday, knowing too well that kind of talk would distract you from your fretting. Lovable bastard.

He said he would let you know the details during the week.

And he did. Those were seemingly random bits of information slipped into your conversations; wear a dress.

Don’t do any exercise on Saturday.

I have a meeting before that I sadly cannot escape, but I’ll pick you up at half past seven.

You’ll probably want to have light dinner before the date.

It was only one piece of info at time and you could hear the mysterious smile in his voice every time he refused to tell you more. To be fair, you had a good idea of what was going to happen. You were going dancing. Which was a bit funny and bit intimidating, because you had already tried something that might resemble that activity on his birthday and your technique definitely needed improvement. However, you trusted Steve; if you were about to make an ass of yourself, he would make sure it was in private at least.

Then the last piece of information came when you were talking on Friday night: wear dark nylons.

“…what?”

You had thought your outfit through; you were making your best effort to look a bit like the women of the old days, but not overwhelmingly so for Steve. To say you were surprised by his request was an understatement; you would have never imagined Steve would want you to wear anything in particular and you had no idea what to think of it.

“Just do, please?” he pleaded, the trademark smile of past few days no doubt creeping into his tired voice. The upcoming meeting had been keeping him busy, you knew that much if only because you had managed to meet for lunch once and that was it. But tonight, he sounded just exhausted.

You bit your lip when an idea on raising his spirit occurred to you.

“So… is that a practical issue or is it simply something you like on a girl?”

It worked. He chuckled, surprise and disbelief colouring his next words.

“Doll! Come on!”

“What?” you asked innocently, laughing at his exasperation. He was blushing. You were sure of it. “Alright. I’ll make sure to dress to your liking, Mr. Rogers.”

“Not to be too daring, but you’re being mean today.”

“Are you complaining?”

He sighed. “I guess I’m not. I hate to say goodbye, but I gotta go.”

You huffed, knowing he must have had tons of work still ahead.

“Okay. It was good to hear you, Steve. Take care? I’ll be thinking of you so you survive… figuratively speaking!”

“I’ll try, doll,” he reassured you and you imagined his smile turning tender. “Hey, I… I’m looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. I miss you.”

Your heart swelled in your chest, happy grin finding its way to your face.

“I miss you too, Steve. I-“ love you “-I can’t wait. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

He ended the call and you whined, hiding your face in your palms. The urge to confess your feelings was getting stronger each day. If he wasn’t going to say those words soon, you might actually slip. Would it be so bad, though? If you said it first? Hard to tell.

With a determined huff, you made your way to the bathroom, wanting to wash away all the worries in the shower stall.

Well. You could at least try.

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You were giving your make-up the last touch when the ring echoed in your apartment. Slow smile spread on your lips, as you finished, grabbed your purse and a thin sweater and nearly ran downstairs; well, as much as one could run in heels.

When you opened the front door though, you were met with an unfamiliar dark-haired man in a suit. He stood straight, hands by his sides, face serious, but inviting.

You frowned. Who the hell was he? Why was he here? Now of all times.

You were just opening your mouth to ask when he beat you to it.

“Madam. I’m here to drive you to your… date,” he informed you formally, wavering a bit at the end as if he didn’t know what the proper word was. It had you frowning harder, a chill of fear creeping up your spine. “Captain Rogers got held up in the meeting and asked me to pick you up.”

Your suspicion spiked. Yeah? And why didn’t he let you know? Surely, he could shoot you a text at least if that was the case?

What the hell was going on?

“And who you might be?”

“Apologies, madam,” he swiftly pulled out a simple and very familiar card from the front pocket of his jacket. You squinted at it. “Agent Morales of SHIELD, at your service.”

Was he… was he really showing you… that?

“Why are you showing me your driving licence?” you asked, perplexed. What the hell? Either this was a bad guy with zero experience or he was simply an idiot.

A smile played on his lips when you looked up at his face. “Captain Rogers said you’d be able to see if it was fake unlike with our service badges.”

For few moments, there was deadly silence between you. You stared at the licence in front of you, surprised he actually handed it to you to inspect it. You only needed seconds to tell this truly was George Morales’ proper driving licence. Still, you watched it a little longer, unable to form words.

And then you burst out laughing, the tension in your shoulders easing.

You gave Agent Morales his licence back, the amusement on his face not escaping your notice.

Turned out he wasn’t an idiot in the end; he was just victim of Steve’s wit, not that he seemed to mind. It had been a short and unpleasant talk with Steve, about someone possibly wanting to get to him through you if they knew you were dating – or worse, actually knew about you being his soulmate – and it was followed by longer, not any more appealing talk encouraging you to be slightly paranoid.

So you were. Nevertheless, this man definitely convinced you he had been sent by Steve.

Agent Morales beckoned to a car with dark windows standing nearby.

“Shall we?”

You only nodded in response, unable to hold back another chuckle as you climbed in the back, silent ‘wow’ escaping you when you saw the black leather of the seats.

“Can I ask what held him up?”

“Meeting, madam. If I may… people in high places can be rather insistent.”

“Yeah, I bet…” you murmured, trying to contain the shadow of sadness at not seeing Steve just yet.

One hand on the steering wheel, the agent offered you his phone. You tilted your head in confusion, but accepted it. There was an unmistakable triangle in the middle of the black screen – a video to watch, you realized.

“What is it?”

“The gathering is at the Tower. We were informed that everything will be recorded. Mr.Stark was generous enough to provide me the footage for you,” he explained, but you weren’t sure what exactly it meant.

“A footage of what?”

You caught his grin in the rear mirror. “You’ll see, madam. Let’s just say I watched videos of Captain Rogers in the field-“ Well, at least someone did. “- and training, but this is the most badass thing I saw him do.”

Your eyebrows shot up at the informal language he used all of sudden and you tapped on play.

The frame was rather small for such space of the conference room, but you could easily recognize Steve and Tony siting at the table as well as a black man with an eye patch – what the hell – and three more men in suits; Agent Morales by the door and two sitting at the table, looking like very important people you wouldn’t want to cross paths with.

It was Tony’s cocky voice you heard first. “Look, just because you said-“

He was interrupted by an alarm beeping and everyone’s head snapped Steve’s direction, while he straightened and slipped his hand to his pocket, pulling out his phone and silencing it.

Your breath hitched for two reasons; firstly, did he really set an alarm to… what, tell him it was time to get ready for a date? That was incredibly sweet. Secondly: fear. Was he about to get in trouble for that?

“Oh, that’s nothing. Wait for it,” the agent uttered, a knowing smile in his voice.

“What the hell was that?” the ‘eye-patch’ man demanded, sounding more annoyed than exasperated.

Steve rose to his feet. “I gotta go.”

Your hand shot up to your mouth. Oh. Oh, Steve.

“I beg your pardon?” one of the suited men hissed.

“Excuse me, I need to go.”

“You have a hot date or what?” the black man asked and… did you see a smirk on his face? No, must have been your imagination, there was no way you could see their facial expressions, the screen was too small for that.

Tony in the video snorted.

“As a matter of fact, sir, I do.”

“Oh my god,” you muttered into your palm, hearing a real-life chuckle from the driver’s seat.

“Gets better.”

What?!

One of the intimidating white men in expensive suit rose from his seat, leaning onto the table as if he wanted to intimidate Steve. Ha, he wished. But worries twisted your gut. Was Steve getting into trouble for this? It didn’t look like it, judging by Agent Morales’ momentary amusement, but still.

“This is a matter of national security! It holds the greatest importance!” he sputtered, his face getting a shade of red.

“With due all respect, Senator Brendon, so does she,” Steve announced evenly.

Your jaw fell into your lap, your eyes going wide and filling with tears under the wave of emotions hitting you. You gasped, staring at the device in your hand, blinking.

Did he… did he really just say that? To Senator’s face?!

Clearly, the men in the room were equally shocked – and not nearly as moved as you were.

“You’re not leaving this meeting just so you can go see your girl-toy and get la-“

The Senator never got to finish the sentence which immediately struck you with humiliation and indignation.

You only blinked, wondering when exactly Steve had moved to have the man pinned against the table, hand twisted behind his back, hissing furious words, his voice like venom.

“Do not talk about her like that!”

Despite the horrifying situation, the picture was almost funny. Why? Because Tony was calmly examining his nails as if they held great importance, the other senator’s face was terrified as he jumped back, the black man only had his eyebrow raised and… Agent Morales stood by the door, seemingly unfazed as well.

You paused the video, unsure you wanted to see the rest, your mind racing.

“Weren’t... weren’t you supposed to… I don’t know, draw a weapon at that point?” you asked, overwhelmed.

That would make sense, right? Make sure the senator didn’t get hurt by an angry soldier? Supersoldier, but whatever.

“Probably. Honestly though? He deserved that and a punch to his face on top. Please, finish it, madam. It’s just few more seconds.”

The respectful ‘madam’ sounded incredibly out of place as he was being brutally and possibly unprofessionally honest. You obediently resumed the video, eyes still wide.

“Well. Now that we established that Senator Brendon is an obnoxious ass,” Tony hummed, his voice carrying a surprisingly sharp edge, making your jaw fell lower.

What the hell was he doing speaking like that to a senator?! Also, was he defending you? Tony Stark, who seemed to never run out of double entendre when you were around, always poking your intimate relationship with Steve? Colour you impressed and shocked once more.

“Can we send Agent Morales to drive Captain Rogers’ very respectable woman for their date and then finish the meeting real quick so we can go separate ways? Cap, let go of him, please. He needs that hand to sign a lot useless papers.”

Tony Stark just became your best friend. And you started hating politicians more than you had until now, but that was beside the point.

“Good plan, Stark,” the eye patch man stated calmly, eyeing Steve who was still literally breathing at Senator Brendon’s neck. “Captain?”

Steve reluctantly released the man, watching him like a hawk. You tried to hold back the smile at him defending your honour, but it was really hard.

“Let’s get this over with. Agent Morales?”

“At your service, Captain.”

Steve wrote down something for him then – your address, you presumed, as well as the point of meeting – and told him to show you his driving licence. You looked up and met the agent’s smile at that.

The last words before the video ended were from Tony.

“Agent Morales? Jarvis will send something to your phone to entertain Cap’s lady when you’re driving her. Be so kind and treat her with respect unlike some people in this room who didn’t seem to move on from pre-historic view on female population. She’s a good and brilliant woman.”

The agent in the footage nodded as Tony did something on his phone and then the screen went black.

You had to fight tears now, silently staring at the phone.

“Sorry about hearing Senator Brendon. But I think the rest was quite spectacular, wouldn’t you say, madam?”

You choked on a laugh, too many emotions swirling in you.

“Yeah. I’d say.”

You wondered what you should give Tony for being such an incredibly kind advocate for you; given the fact he could have everything in the world with the billions he had on his account, you decided you would just had to settle for a hug.

As for Steve…. well. You weren’t sure if it was wise to bring it up in the first place. You decided to act after you’d see his mood; you definitely wanted to show gratitude though.

The rest of the drive was spent in silent awe.

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Part 2

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Tags:

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This was supposed to be ‘the First Time’ fic, mostly plotless smut. Somehow, there are like… things happening? Oops.

Still, the fic is spectacularly self-indulgent. You’re welcome? :D

P.S. – Feedback always appreciated.

Love, AA

[grace-writes-shit]

The Time I Wasted (Sherlock Holmes x Daughter!Reader)

Request:  Heyo great writer can you do Sherlock X daughter reader. Angsty please prompt 99 and 95 thank you

Words: 1529

Warnings: Angst. Character death. Blood. Wound infection. Gore. Detached father. Parent death. Torture. Basically an angst salad. Curse words.

Characters/Pairings: Sherlock x daughter!reader, John, Mary, Mycroft, Moriarty.

A/N: I started writing this, hated it. Deleted it. Rewrote it. And died. Enjoy.

A sigh was heard from the kitchen. Followed by a mumbled curse. Another one. Another goddammed head.

“Dad!” A young woman’s voice called. “Dad!” She called again when there was no answer. He was most likely deep in his mind palace again. She groaned.

What was she supposed to do with the head dripping a mysterious clear goo all over their food? He wouldn’t be happy if she got rid of it, but now she can’t even prepare dinner.

Looking over to the man perched in his chair, she tapped her foot with her hands on her hips. “Dad, do you want take-out?” She knew it was a long shot in asking but sometimes it was nice to imagine that he would actually reply.

You see, despite the great detective, Sherlock Holmes, being her father, she did not share the same intelligence as him. Yes, she was smart, enough to breeze through school, but not enough to gain the attention of her father. He often ignored her or treated as he did everyone else. Like an idiot.

Fed up with the silence and the fucking head, she stormed from the kitchen to the door, barely grabbing her coat.

“I’m going to Uncle John’s.” She threw over her shoulder, not really looking at the man. It’s not like he cared anyway. Nobody really did. Maybe John and Mary, but they were too wrapped up in their own lives and she didn’t want to bother them.

This is why as she left the flat, she didn’t hail a cab to her Uncle’s home. Instead, she took a left, hands buried deep in her pockets and headed nowhere. She was never wanted here anyway.

Her father had an uncharacteristic, drunken tryst with her mother twenty-one years ago. He had been on a case apparently that involved a serial lover/murder. Guess he was just putting himself in the killer’s shoes. But nine months later, after he was long gone, little (Y/N) was born. Everything was great, though. Her mother poured everything she had into raising her. She was her best friend. Her confidant. Then it was all stripped away.

When she was twelve, her mother died in a plane crash. She had been on a two-week business trip and was finally coming home. But rather than her loving mother opening the door, it was a woman from social services, coming to take her to her father.

For another ten years, she would live as a ghost in this strange man’s home. Wanting nothing more than to have a loving parent to replace the one she had lost.

She didn’t know how long she walked. It must have been hours because the sky had gone dark a long time ago. But she had no intention of going back yet. Maybe not ever. Nothing in that flat really mattered.

Having a feeling that something was amiss, she looked up. A black car had pulled up next to her. She rolled her eyes. Of course, Mycroft sent a car. This happened every time she was gone for too long. As if she were a prisoner.

Walking up to the car she opened the door and looked at the woman sitting in the seat. It wasn’t Anthea, but an equally beautiful woman.

“Can’t Mycroft just leave me alone?” She asked, getting in the car anyway. The woman looked up from her phone and smiled. The doors locked. And the woman pulled out a cloth. Too late did (Y/N) realize this wasn’t Mycroft’s doing.

Everything went black as the cloth was pressed to her face.

“(Y/N), what did you do with my skull?” That girl, always moving things around. ‘Cleaning’, as she called it. He shook his head, digging around the flat for the cranium. “(Y/N)!” He looked up to the kitchen where she just was. No, it’s dark now. Oh, she must have left a while ago.

“Probably to John’s. No, not John’s. She didn’t take her purse… Another one of her fits then. Mycroft’s people should be bringing her back then.” Unconcerned now, he sat back down and once again entered his mind palace. Unaware of where his daughter really was.

><

“Ugh, my head. I feel like I was hit by a truck.” (Y/N) moaned as she tried to lift her head. It was cold. And the ground was hard. Concrete. The chill had already settled in her bones, causing her to shiver violently.

“Ahhh, the little mouse is awake~” A sweet Irish voice came from the dark doorway. She already knew who it was.

She squeezed her eyes shut as the bright florescent lights flicked on. It set her head on fire. Her body ached. She doesn’t remember anything past getting in the car, but from the still bleeding scrapes on her elbows and knees, she wasn’t put in this room nicely. She must have hit her head as well if the wet feeling on the side of her head suggested anything.

“Aw, not even a hello, darling? No matter, you won’t be saying much soon.” He smiled softly, chewing his gum. She sent him the most hate-filled glare she could muster.

“Fuck you, prick.” She bit out.

He gave a short, barking laugh, feigning shock and offense. He held a hand to his chest and scoffed. “My dear, those are some pretty colorful wonder from someone so young. What would your father say?”

“He’s not my father!”

“No? Then I suppose he won’t care about all the fun we’re going to have.”

 ><

“What do you mean she hasn’t been here? She lives here.” John watched Sherlock pace.

“I mean, she hasn’t been here, John! She left and hasn’t come back,” Sherlock snapped.

“How long has she been gone?” Mary asked from her position on John’s old chair.

“Three days.”

“Three days, Sherlock?!” John dragged a hand through his hair, letting it scrub back down his face. Mary buried her face in her hands.

“Darling, I don’t think she’s coming back,” Mary said softly. Sherlock stopped dead in his tracks.

“What, why? Why wouldn’t she come back? All of her stuff is here. She even left her idiotic stuffed cat. She never would leave that, it holds sentiment. And we all know how she adores her sentiment.” He was rambling now.

“Look, whether or not she wants to come back, we need to find her. She could be in trouble,” John rationalized.

At that moment a knock sounded at the door. The three occupants turned to see the newcomer.

“Mycroft,” Sherlock addressed his brother.

“Brother mine,” The older man greeted. Reaching into his suit, he produced an envelope. “A letter for you.”

Sherlock wasted no time in striding across the room and nearly ripping the letter from his brother’s hands. One simple sentence was written on the paper. And it was all he needed.

Let’s play Hide and Seek.

 ><

If she thought she was in pain before, this was agony. It was hellfire in her bones. Her wounds had stopped bleeding a while ago, but because of the poor conditions of the room and her weakened body, infection settled in quickly. She sat in her own vomit and blood, the pain making her nauseous.

She just wanted to die. It would have been better if he had just killed her outright. But where’s the fun in that? Her throat was raw from screaming and vomiting. Her fingernails were bloody and torn from digging into the wooden chair she sat on.

All of this. All of this because she was related to Sherlock Holmes.

She hates him.

Suddenly, hands were on her. But after three days of torture, and another two of festering in her own sick, she couldn’t react.

“(Y/N). (Y/N), look at me.” A voice called. “Just hold on.” A gurgle was his reply. “Shh, don’t try to talk.”

“D-dad?” Was that her voice? It was unrecognizable. It was weird, talking instead of screaming.

“I said don’t talk.” Sherlock scolded, lowering her to the floor. The coolness of the floor helped clear her fogged mind.

“Just leave me, it’s over.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, “You just don’t listen, do you?”

“I got it from you.” She coughed out a laugh, it hurt. But not physically. How ironic. To finally have a conversation with her father and she’s dying. She knows she is. She was too numb to not be.

“We just need to wait for John. We’ll get you to the hospital. I can save you.”

“No, you can’t. It’s too late…” He knows. But he doesn’t want her to be scared.

“This looks infected.” The wound on her side oozed and practically bubbled with infection.

“It’s fine.” Really, it was. She couldn’t even feel anything anymore. Darkness was creeping at the edges of her vision. Her father’s face nothing but a blur.

“…You’re dying.” He said this more to himself than her. Ten years wasted. He had this precious girl next to him this entire time and it took her dying in front of him for Sherlock to realize it. The guilt was unbearable. But probably not as unbearable as what he put her through.

“Well… that’s fine too.”

Darkness consumed her.

[marshmallowprotection]

When bora moves into the penthouse.

Bora was on the bed, waiting in anticipation for seven to come and pick her up, she appreciated being able to take a long hot bath and she even got to wash her clothes, or well tried to. It’s really hard when you don’t exactly know what to do, but bora tried her best. Also her hair was a mess, she didn’t have a brush, or anything to manage it, so she had no other choice then to put it in a messy bun. She check the time again, 8:59, seven said he’d come at 9, but bora is secretly hoping that he won’t show up. Suddenly there is a knock at the door, two long knocks, and two short knocks. Exactly what seven said he’d do.

“ bora, it’s me seven, we talked earlier this morning. Can you open the door?” He said in a very soft, calming voice, not wanting to startle the young girl. He sees the door knob turn and puts on the biggest smile he can muster, but seeing her in person, makes his smile faulted. It physically hurts to see this small child, with tape holding together an old hoodie, and she doesn’t even look in his eyes. “ hey, need me to carry your stuff? “ seven asks reaching a hand out, only for bora’s grip to tighten around her bag.

“ no thank you, mr. Seven.” She says in such a small voice, she didn’t want to risk making him upset. He seemed friendly enough but bora doesn’t want to risk it. It’s something Saeyoung understands all too well.

“ you don’t need to call me mr. Just call me seven, or 707, or luciel, no I got one even better. God 707!” Saeyoung says energetically, hoping that it’s make bora laugh, or even giggle a bit. Bora does crack a smile, it’s not much but it’s something.

“ okay, seven,” bora says as she is lead out of the building and into the parking lot. “ umm seven, I really do appreciate you driving me and all but I could just walk there ,”2

Cracking a smile Saeyoung opens the passenger door of his car, letting bora slide in, buckling himself up in the car he says to bora,”see bora, this isn’t only to help you get there safely, I want to see my Elly too,” yes it’s a perk to see Elizabeth but Saeyoung just wants to help bora, even if he has to lie about his reasons.

“ Your Elly?” Bora asks, trying to Rember if jumin has a kid or something like that, she doesn’t remember anyone named Elly.

“ Yes my beautiful Elly, jumin’s cat. I love her so much, but meanie jumin doesn’t let me see her.” He says, happy that bora is talking a bit. He decides to make a pit stop,” bora, do you want something from Starbucks or do you want boba? Or do you want ice cream?”

Bora looking down at her shoes, “ I’m fine, but thank you,” she doesn’t want to risk spilling anything in this car, it looks really expensive. But it’s too late, seven is already pulled into a drive through.

“ what do you want bora?” Saeyoung asks, wanting to get something into bora’s stomach, he knows that she skipped breakfast.

“ it’s really okay, I’m not hungry,” bora says, not wanting seven to go through anymore trouble.

“ I’ll have one hot chocolate, one slice of banana bread, and one black coffee please,” Saeyoung says, to the drive through lady, leaving bora shocked. Seven hands her a hot chocolate and the banana bread,” I know you said you didn’t want anything, but I had this gift card that was about to expire and I needed to use it up, so you getting some food and a drink actually helped me out. “

Seeing bora take a small nibble of the banana bread and instantly have a faint smile on her face, made Saeyoung extremely happy. She looks like she’s enjoying the food and hot coco.

The banana bread reminded bora of her brother, he’d always bake banana bread for her birthday. Bora couldn’t help but smile a bit, but once she noticed seven looking she wiped that look off of her face,” thank you for the food,” she says, not wanting to be rude.

“ anytime kiddo, I want you to feel as comfortable as you can with me before I introduce you to jumin. He may seem cold and unfeeling, but he will help you in anyway he can. He is just hard to crack his cold exterior, but he looks out for the rfa members, and he’ll be good to you. You have my word, even though it probably doesn’t mean much,” Saeyoung tells bora as they sit in the parking lot, trying to calm her nerves.

All he gets is a small nod and a timid okay. It’s 10 am when Saeyoung begins to drive to jumin’s penthouse, but before he starts the car he texts jumin that bora’s skittish.

Pulling up to the building she can tell the jumin is rich rich, there are even security guards in the lobby. She is getting her fair share of odd stares, but seven is there right next to her glaring at the judgmental people.

“ Luciel, over here,” a feline voice says as a short brown haired woman, with glasses walks over to bora and Saeyoung, “ hello, I’m Jaehee Kang, you’re bora, a I correct?” She says with a small smile, trying her best to be warm towards the small child.

“ yes, it’s nice to meet you,” bora says politely, but not meeting jaehees gaze. But maybe that’s for the best, jaehees eyes are filled with pity and sadness, this child look like she’s been through hell, and barely made it back alive.

“ here, let me take that for you, where is the rest of you stuff?” Jaehee says reaching out for bora’s bag, but bora’s grip tightens, Saeyoung gives Jaehee a look that says,’ don’t’ luckily she got the hint and retracted her arm.

“ this is all of my stuff, and thanks but I can handle it,” bora says, not wanting anyone to touch her bag, the only things she owns are in there, including the only picture of her brother that she has. It’s in an old picture frame that’s waterproof. She would do anything to keep that one picture.

“ how about we head up to the penthouse! I want to see my lovely Elly!” Saeyoung says, trying to lighten the mood by ushering bora into the elevator, with Jaehee following right behind. With bora standing between Jaehee and seven, it’s abundantly clear how tiny she actually is. Even compared to Jaehee, she’s petite. The elevator door opens and Jaehee leads the two of them into the giant penthouse. Immediately seven yells,” ELLY! Daddy missed you!” And seven begins to run towards the white cat, until a tall black haired man grabs him by the hoodie and yanks him away from the cute feline.

“ Luciel, her name is Elizabeth the third, and she’s not yours. Behave yourself.” Jumin says, turning towards Jaehee and bora, it’s shocking how tiny she is, she looks so uncomfortable, like she’s rather be anywhere but here. Jumin looks her over, that hoodie has to be the one in the worst condition, there is no way that her other clothes are as rundown as that one, and those shoes look like they are men’s, clearly not her size.

Saeyoung whispers in jumin’s ear,” don’t look so judgemental, you’ll scare her off.” Jumin begins to wonder how would rika handle this situation, she’d probably greet bora with a warm smile and assure her that everything will be alright, that she’s safe, ‘rika would handle this so much better.’ Jumin thought to himself.

“ hello bora, I’m jumin. For the time being you’ll be living with me. You’ll be taken care of here,”

Bora shrunk back at his intensity, seven offered her a small smile, trying to say,’ Remember what I told you about him,’ bora has a gut feeling that he is a goos guy, but seven’s words kept playing in the back of her head, give it time, he may act cold but he is really a good guy.

“ shall we get you unpacked? Follow me,” jumin says waking out of the room, bora looks at seven and seven begins to walk behind jumin, and bora takes that as her cue to follow. They walk into a large room, with dark blue walls, dressers, a closet and an en-suite bathroom, but what caught bora’s attention was the large bed in the middle of the room, it looks so comfortable, she just wants to lie down on it.

“ bora, bora? Are you listening?” Jumin asked, trying to explain how everything works and that if she needs something to let him know.

“ sport, yeah I was,” bora timidly says, not wanting to seem rude.

“ where is all your stuff?” Jumin asks only seeing a backpack with bora.

“ this is it,” she says as seven shoots jumin a look telling him to not be too blunt.

“ there is barely anything, oh well we can alway get you new supplies, and clothes-“

“ no. It’s really okay sir, I appreciate being allowed to sleep here, you don’t need to go that far, I don’t even need to sleep here, I’m fine with going back to the apartment, or if you don’t want anyone in that apartment I can go back to where I used to live,” bora rambles in and on, nervously.

“ don’t be ridiculous bora, you’re what, 11? 12? We can’t let a child wander the streets. “

“ um I’m 15 and 1/2” Jaehee and jumin both were shocked by that, by her stature she look like she is much younger.

“Oh I apologize, I assumed you were much younger,”

“ it’s alright. But I really don’t want to impose,”

“ you won’t.” Jumin says. They spend about one hour before jumin and Jaehee leave to work, and Saeyoung decides to stay with bora, and he keeps trying to cuddle with Elizabeth. But after seven calmed down and decided to take a nap on the couch, Elizabeth decided to come over near bora, checking her out. Elizabeth quickly took a likening to bora, quickly cuddling up to her and falling asleep in her lap.

Jumin comes back to the penthouse to see bora and Elizabeth cuddled up to one another, asleep with a blanket over them( courtesy of Saeyoung) and seeing his angel of a cat asleep purring while cuddled up against this child, he knows that this child is one that will leave a lasting impression.

@stella-290 holy shit this was longer than I realized, oh well. - submission 

I LOVE THIS. 

Jumin grabbing Seven by the hoodie made me wheeze so dang hard. He just goes “Yoink. Not today, Luciel, that’s not happening.” Which is why very much a thing that we’d know he’d do. He can say it’s for Elly and play around to make Bora feel more comfortable, but Jumin knows that he’s also just trying to help so they play a little banter. It’s no different than how he and Zen interact, after all, which I appreciate. 

Pity. 

Bora hates pity, but she knows why they do it. She also knew they would assume that she was much younger, but hey, can’t do a lot about that. She tries to cool down and get used to this but it’s not easy. Elizabeth is really nice to her so it’s not so lonely here. 

[yoolee]

Hey, so I’m thinking I may be ace but not entirely sure? I have zero desire nor interest to have sex nor do I see people in a sexual light (not very often anyways). I keep doubting myself that since I haven’t been in a relationship that perhaps I just “have to wait for the one” but I really couldn’t care less about who I get with (man or woman, I don’t really have a preference)or when. I think that I *am* ace but then again I keep doubting myself. Any advice on how to figure out such things?

OH MY GOD APPARENTLY I HAD A LOT OF THOUGHTS ON THIS SORRY.

TL;DR - BRAINS ARE WEIRD. BODIES ARE WEIRD. BOTH ARE INVOLVED IN SEXUAL ATTRACTION and both are dynamic - so try not to worry about fitting a single definition for all time, and go easy on yourself - your body feels what it feels and what’s right for you.

In this LITERAL SIX PAGE ESSAY I will ramble more:

CAN I CONDENSE THIS into bullet points let’s try:

It’s okay not to define yourself. We all learn things about ourselves as we grow and experience things, and (as a whole) sexual attraction isn’t a one-time-done-deal (though aspects may be)

It’s typically easier to know what we DON’T WANT than it is to know what we DO, so don’t feel weird about not knowing for sure

The media has NO IDEA how often or how little people think about sex and trust me the answer to that question varies WILDLY.

Check out AVEN to read about experiences and see if any of them feel like yours.

Know that level of sexual interest fluctuates over time based on all kinds of inputs (age, medication, other people, stress), so don’t worry too much about changes from your baseline limited/no interest - it’s a bucket, not a pre-measured dose.

If you DO decide to try a relationship or try physical intimacy, do it for YOU not because you feel like you should, and be upfront with your partner about your baseline interest levels before you make it to a bed (or wherever else you choose to instigate)

If you decide it’s not something you want to explore, but you still want an intimate or romantic relationship with someone - know that it’s absolutely possible, more common than you might think, and definitely doable. It may take a few tries, and a few awkward conversations, but those get easier. 

OKAY NOW THE LONG ASS VERSION SORRY

It’s okay not to define yourself. We all learn things about ourselves as we grow and experience things, and (as a whole) sexual attraction isn’t a one-time-done-deal (though aspects may be)

I don’t think how you feel about sex is something you figure out once and are done with, so I’d encourage you to be open to the idea that your definition for yourself may flex a little or change with factors like age or medication that you’re on or the people you’re with, and that’s okay! And it may not, that’s also okay! Bodies and brains are weird and also dynamic, sometimes things are hard coded (whether or not cilantro tastes like soap!) Some things vary over predictable pattern (generally, kiddo taste buds are wired to prefer sweet and this, generally along a predictable sort of timeline, decreases as they age) and sometimes WHO THE FUCK KNOWS (why does person A prefer A dark roast coffee and person B a medium roast and person C thinks both taste like mud and would like to stick to their peppermint tea, please, which person D - Lee - can’t even stand the barest, faintest, tiniest sip of it?) and sometimes the right circumstances make the difference (Person F may hate brussel sprouts - unless grandma makes them with her magic balsamic vinegar, but it’s not the same when Aunt E tries) point being - give yourself some grace if you don’t feel like you perfectly fit one single bucket at all points in your life.

 Consider, to go back to food - Sally KNOWS she’s allergic to peanuts and that cilantro tastes like soap. These are hard coded. So even without trying a Thai stiryfry with peanut sauce, she knows it’s not for her. Less clearly life or death, she’s not a fan of catfish, just because the texture is kind of rubbery, even though her sister loves it. How does she feel about seabass? Dunno, she hasn’t had it. If she has a general idea that seafood’s not her thing, cool - plenty of other things to eat (in this metaphor, plenty of other kinds of relationships to have with people! Physical intimacy is only one) if, one day, she decides to try it, she may learn she likes it, and she also may learn she likes seabass EVEN LESS than catfish. But she can also live her whole life not knowing for sure, and--who cares what her seafood preference is? Why does she have to tell anyone - unless she’s going over to someone’s house and they ask what she likes so they can serve it, and she can tell them, definitely no peanuts or cilantro, not a huge fan of seafood (or, not a huge fan of seafood but if you have a recipe you really like, I may be willing to try it? Both are okay). It may also turn out that the first time she had it, she kinda liked it, but then she had it prepared by someone else and, nope, gross and weird. There’s all sorts of reasons why what tasted one way today will taste different tomorrow. Not everything changes like that (see, peanuts - or, in this metaphor, your kind of baseline) but it may fluctuate a bit in a number of directions, based on a number of factors, internal and external (who prepares the seabass! Is it fresh?) 

 The internet is often one of the few safe spaces for people to openly, proudly define themselves from a sexual identity perspective, so you see a lot of folk doing so - and that’s GREAT. But I PROMISE YOU there’s a HUGE POPULATION who is right there with you going...am I this? Or that? Why don’t I know? 

It’s typically easier to know what we DON’T WANT than it is to know what we DO

Seriously. It is. Maybe you aren’t sure if you want to kiss someone or not. I bet you DO know that you DON’T want to kiss rusty chainsaw blade dripping mysterious green goo. While there are personalities that are very good at clear decisions and classifications (I want to eat at Restaurant A because I want tacos and Restaurant A is the first restaurant I know of that serves tacos) there is also an equally common personality that is wired towards possibilities. (I could eat tacos. But pasta also sounds good, and so does baingan ka bharta.) For the latter, it’s usually easier to focus in on, I don’t know what I want but I know I do NOT want a sandwich. And that’s okay

(related - sometimes our bodies don’t even know we’re hungry. Are we? Or are we thirsty? WHO KNOWS) 

Hopping back to Sally and her seabass. Sally knows for sure she’s not into catfish. She’s never eaten catfish, but they freak her out and her stomach flips over just thinking about it. Cool. But seabass? She doesn’t feel that immediate stomach flip aversion. But her mouth doesn’t water either. She KNOWS her sister tried it and love it. But you know what? Her sister also likes reality TV so her judgement? Different than Sally’s. 

Whether she wants to try it one day or not doesn’t change anything except what tense she can use when talking about it. If she tries it, maybe she’ll learn she LOVES seabass. Maybe she’ll learn she only likes it when a particular chef makes it, and only if it’s seasoned with chili flakes first. And, also, honestly, maybe she will try it, and it will make her sick and lead to a miserable 24 hours in the bathroom and a wish she’d never tried it. That’s a risk. It’s up to Sally if she wants to take it, and whether she does or not, NOBODY ELSE’S BUSINESS except hers and the potential chef making it.

Society is weird about this SO WEIRD and puts SO MUCH PRESSURE - ignore it. There is no ‘normal’ when it comes, specifically, interest level in engaging with sexual activities

If you find yourself pressured to ‘try’ - ask yourself how much of it is YOU and how much of it is SOCIETY. It’s okay to try if you want to, or you’re curious. BUT if you’re trying because you think you ‘should’ I’m gonna tell you flat out and point blank that you are probably going to be in for a very uncomfortable experience, literally and figuratively. And y’all listen. Media does NOT align with reality. It does a lot of people a hug disservice with its prevalent narratives about sex drives. Some of the horniest people I know are cis women in their forties, and I knew teenage cis guys embarrassed and worried that all they wanted was to cuddle when movies were shoving down their throats that they should be thinking sex 24/7. Don’t assume anything about your potential partners.

You don’t have to try something if your gut says, not for you. 

Personal experience? I’ve had to break off relationships with some good people (and some shitty ones) because I was hoping for something to click into place and it never did. Those were harder to end than the ones where the other person did something bad or dumb or stupid, because there wasn’t any one thing I could point to. But as much as it sucked to dump people I liked but didn’t connect with on levels I had hoped, I think we both learned stuff, and it wasn’t time wasted. Others, I was better prepared to say up front, and we explored other options together that we both got something out of, and they ended for other reasons (....usually me being like, ugh, other people and their emotions, no thanks, but, I’m also kind of a self-centered bitch, full disclosure, which you could probably guess from the fact I am STILL TALKING)

Communication is key

To that point, if you ever find yourself in a relationship that seems to be drifting from casual to serious, COMMUNICATE. Tell your partner up front that hey, you’re not sure sex is for you, you’re not into intimate touch, are they okay with that. If NO, you’ve saved both of you some future heartache, if YES, then it’s on the table to talk about later and explore--or not--together. And you don’t have to worry about how or when to bring it up for the first time. The earlier you do it, the less stressful it will be, promise, because you can lay that casual tidbit, and it’s out there. Communication is key. 

You don’t owe society sex, and you don’t owe your partner sex, not even to see if it’s for you or not. But you do owe them communication and honesty. If physical intimacy is something your partner needs to feel fulfilled in a relationship, and it’s not for you - then a romantic relationship may not be right for you both. It’s okay not to know that up front as long as you communicate it may be a possibility and get their buy-in, and communicate when you ARE sure. As much as that sucks, it’s a thing just like any other (like, person A wants kids and person B doesn’t - there are some things were there isn’t exactly a compromise, and everyone ends up miserable - baseline expectations around sexual needs can be one of them).

It’s easier than it sounds - Hey, not gonna lie, you’re cute and this is fun but kissing is as far as it goes for now. Hands there don’t really do it for me. Before this goes further, I just want to be upfront that I consider myself ace, so I don’t really see sex happening. Before this goes further, I’m pretty new at the whole sex thing and honestly not sure it’s really for me, so I need you to go slow. Etc etc etc. Most of the time you get an ‘okay’ and life goes on. Sometimes they ask questions in which case, shiny! Communication! Answer honestly, and ask in return. 

You’re not drawing up a legally binding contract about you will or won’t do - you’re just aligning expectations, and check in with them when they change. 

 Check out stories!

Check out AVEN. Even within asexuality, there’s a lot of variability in how people define themselves - read some of the experiences and see if any of them feel close enough to yours that the definition feels ‘right’ for you. If not, don’t sweat it! Just means you’re still exploring. Some people find they can masturbate but once another person is involved, it’s a no-go. Others find that it takes a long time to ramp them up but it’s possible with a patient partner they trust. Others never feel anything. Others are okay with it in the moment, but don’t spontaneously feel their own desire to instigate it. Asexuality is a pretty welcoming variety!

 Sex drive is impacted by a lotta things

Know that lots of things impact sex drive in particular. Like. Again, for cis women, the data suggests the more you have sex the more you want it - it can ramp up like that. Also, some people get going with visuals (pictoral imagination, porn, naked people in front of them) but a LOT of people need WORDS (legit, why do you think romance novels are such a booming business?) this can come in things partner says or, you know, written erotica (Just like with porn though you have to be careful - recommend Smart bitches, trashy lit) 

It doesn’t necessarily remain static over time. For example, medication and age are both two big inputs to this (ask any nursing home staff - I’m deadly serious. It’s honestly a little concerning because of dementia and consent issues, but like, it’s a thing for sex drives to WILDLY SPIKE in 80 somethings) you could be in a lull, or impacted by meds (for example, hormonal BC is pretty well known to suppress sex drive, and yet, being pregnant--which hormonal BC supposedly mimics to an extent--tends to make some folk absolutely and unexpectedly nutters for physical sensation)

It can be kinda shocking to go, like, years without any interest in sex as an activity or people as sexual partners, and then all of a sudden hormones whallop you upside the head and scream at you do something about them - that doesn’t mean WHO YOU ARE has changed. It just means your biology is responding to something. ANd listen 

L I S T E N

If we knew HOW, consistently, to turn attraction on and off? That would be a thing.

We don’t.

Like. One of the weird ass symptoms of SLEEP PARALYSIS of all things, which is basically, a nightmare you have where you think you’re awake but you aren’t (you ARE semi conscious) and you can’t move, is the idea of an incubus hanging out in the room, because people feel like spontaneously aroused. And we have NO IDEA WHY. And it’s NOT ALL THE TIME. ANd yet it’s documented across CULTURES across TIME, it’s a THING. 

So. 

If your body is not doing something other bodies are doing - well, it’s doing what it needs to to be your body. If your body suddenly stops or starts doing something, and it concerns you (sudden appearance of sex drive! Sudden vanishing of it!) talk to a doc. 

Otherwise - your hair gets longer, sometimes you get freckles where you never had them before, your tastebuds change. This is just one more thing on the list of shrug.

[goliath-de-senfina-sango]

Jazz was struggling to process the weird things going on in her life. While she was far more interested in psychology than parapsychology, she /did/ offer a ghost a bit of therapy now and then and he seemed to be doing better for it. That was all the ghostly interaction she really needed. the giant hornet in school apparently disagrees with her on that. It truly amazed Jazz what the mind could conjure up during stressful events. For instance, it occurred to her right this very second how odd it had been to cool even slightly down from the argument days before over ghosts with her parents only for the ghost of the infamous Sydney Poindexter to show up in the library seeking comfort and a safe person to vent to. The topic of Sydney’s guilt had been hard to stay objective about, but between his clear and honest regret, his admitted decades of hell in a replica of Casper in the Infinite Realms (and wow, she shouldn’t be surprised that ghosts had a name for the world they manifest in but there she was) and the fact that Danny had befriended him led her to feel Sydney was, while not at all justified in what he’d done, not as bad a person as he’d been making himself out to be. When she asked questions he responded much more clearly than when he spoke unprompted, she’d noted, and so she’d asked right away if there was even one person he could remember who didn’t hurt him. The green and sepia bleeding into his form nearly vanished as his older brother, his little sister, and the school nurse came to mind. His brother hardly cared about the things that he was being bullied over, doing his best to keep Sydney looking toward the future and making amazing things to lift his spirits. Apparently, he was a genius like Tucker and Danny, a compliment that made Jazz smile at the time. His little sister didn’t know enough to really understand it all but she was unerringly sweet and a source of sunshine that he never ever mentioned at school. The nurse, however, had been the brightest of those three lights in the dark for him, as the nurse wasn’t family and had no pre-established reason to be nice to and patch up the gross, nerdy queer kid that everyone else had shown nothing but contempt for. She did it anyway though, and he’d aspired to be a nurse like her one day. This aspiration led to more bullying, of course, but Jazz suggested he try learning how to heal people up the same way that nurse had him, and a look of realization and hope crossed his face before he hugged her, waved, and flew off. That had been a very good ghostly encounter. The giant hornet casting a sinister green glow over the hallways as a long, slimy black tongue curled around her entire skull and sharp mandibles the size of said skull extended to their most open was distinctly not. Jazz would never look at bugs the same way again. Before she could even manage to get a scream out of her though, the whining charge of one of her parents’ weapons filled her ears and the hornet jerked back with a sound that could’ve been pain, could’ve been fury, and mixed the kind of clicking hissing one expects from a bug with a very human voice. There was a burn mark on its center dripping ectoplasm that smelled awful , and it turned big black eyes to the same ghost boy she’d seen before. But now Jazz knew he was dangerous because that was a Fenton Plasma Rifle in his hands and his eyes were torches, hair flicking between cloudy wisps and crackling flames. “ Did someone call for an exterminator? “ “Oh, you think you’re funny!” The fucking hornet said, starling Jazz into motion - backing away slowly so as to not draw its attention. It flew like a blur at the boy, stinger cutting a gash in his suit and up his arm that leaked a thick green fluid and the rest of it’s lower half crashed into him with enough force to slam the boy into a few lockers with a bang. “Swat this , big boy.” “ Buzz off ,” the boy growled and the lights flared up brighter around them. He swung the rifle at the bug and the green ectoplasm shone a blinding white as it fired, burning a hole straight through the hornet and drilling it through the wall between the school and its yard. The boy flew after it and Jazz took a deep breath. There were ghosts fighting in her school, one with her parents’ weaponry. That one had saved her though and Jazz also had Fenton weaponry on her. She rushed outside to help, determined to keep her savior from being skewered by a hornet. Jazz poked her head out from the hole that the boy had made and froze. He was smacked out of the air by one of the long hairy legs of the hornet and into a tree and his head cracked loudly against bark. As he slid down his body was enveloped in light that retreated inward to his center and left behind Black hair, tan skin, a nyan cat hoodie- “Danny?” Her whisper went unnoticed in the face of a green ray piercing the hornet’s left wing. Bleeding ectoplasm in three places, it curled in on itself into a mass of green goop that dove into the ground and everything was still. Danny looked around with bright green eyes as he clutched his head, before growling and punching the tree. He stood up slowly, closed his eyes and grew difficult to look at, to even see as the light within a foot of him grew intense like a halo. He let out a breath and slumped against Tucker when the other boy made it to him, checking him over. Jazz stepped back away from the hole and took deep, shaky breaths. My brother is a ghost. That thought played over and over in her head even as a teacher gently guided her to her feet (when had she sat down among the debris?) and to the nurse’s office. It was only when Danny appeared in the nurse’s office, wrapping her up tight in a hug and rambling a mile a minute to ask if she was ok in every way he possibly could that her brain shifted focus even slightly. “Well, I didn’t get stung. Just licked by a dad sized hornet and saved by a ghostly teenager.” She hugged Danny back just as tightly, and tears began to flow as his argument to their parents before he blacked out in the hospital bed came back to mind. If the portal accident had killed me, would you have comforted your child or attacked the ghost in your lab? Danny’s arms went slack for a moment but Jazz clung tight to him. “I just. I just need a moment. Please?” Instead of pulling away and cracking jokes about gross sibling feelings her blessed baby brother hugged her back again and nodded into her neck. “Of course, Jazz.” “I swear to every star that listens,” Danny said behind his bedroom door where Jazz really shouldn’t be listening in. “Next I see of that smart-mouthed, rancid piece of protoplasmic filth I’m going to turn him into a smear and burn him.” That certainly sounded more like Dad than Danny. “At least save me a little bit to beat up,” Sam’s voice called through the speakers of his newly upgraded laptop. “I just commissioned your Mom for a ghost fighting melee weapon and Sydney’s healing me up pretty fast.” So Sydney knew about all of this. “There’ll be some of Spectra left to beat up with that once the Peeler has finished its work.” What?! “Probably. Maybe. It’s made to weaken the target not kill them.” The scoff she heard was definitely Tucker and definitely in the room. “Yeah, you’ll leave a scrap of shadow that none of us can distinguish from our own shadows, that’s something Sam can beat up.” Shadows? “I think the ectoplasm is enhancing your emotional response.” “You’re right Tuck, if someone threatened Jazz’s life normally I wouldn’t try to shoot them into a pile of goo. I’d only beat them up with the gun.” Jazz would normally admonish such a violent reaction, and aloud she might if she was in there and not eavesdropping. But truly, if someone hurt Danny they’d find out what a 1st degree blackbelt can do to them. “I think Sam will be good to go either tomorrow or the day after.” Sydney’s voice crackled over the speakers like static. “I think your healing powers mesh better with living beings than mine can since you’re halfa human.” Danny sighed and Jazz moved back into her room, sitting down to process. She pulled out her notebook and set it on her desk, mechanical pencil already in hand. “Organize all my thoughts and maybe it’ll make sense. What information do I have?” Danny was in an accident involving the ghost portal and it changed him. Danny was vehemently against their parents’ anti ghost genocide plan The ghost boy she’d seen at school the other day was clearly the one that had attacked the hornet thing when it attacked her Danny had all the access to the Fenton Armory as she did with their porta pockets, which was effectively full access. Danny was too smart to give any unknown entity their only model of plasma rifle Danny had directed Sydney Poindexter of all people to her Sydney knew Danny on a personal level that he wasn’t willing to fully disclose to her. Sydney had called Danny half-human and Danny hadn’t corrected him, nor had Tucker nor Sam. Jazz saw the mystery ghost boy transform in a flash of light into her brother, who proceeded to hug her and act much the same he had since the portal accident. Her conclusion? Danny had died in the portal when it turned on, and now he was a ghost, fighting off ghost robots and giant bugs with their parents’ weaponry. Sam and Tucker knew about it, and he had befriended at least one ghost. This was, of course, the most ridiculous thought to cross Jasmine Dana Fenton’s mind in her entire life. But then, her parents had opened a portal to the afterlife and she’d just been attacked by a giant glowing green hornet. “Ok, Danny is a ghost. He didn’t tell me that, but for obvious reasons,” she muttered to herself. “That must be what he was going to tell Mom and Dad before and now he doesn’t have the courage to try again. Oh god Danny died. ” Jazz picked up Bearbert Einstein and hugged him close, deciding right then that she was going to hug Danny a lot more from now on. Just to make sure he was still there. That was a silly thought, but she needed to be sure.

[writersmacchiato]

Fluff Alphabet | Neville Longbottom

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

When he first saw you, he thought you were beautiful. Though it was your smile that caught his attention and he spent many afternoons daydreaming about it, always bursting out into a violent blush when you directed a smile his way.

You loved his eyes. How they seem to twinkle when he talks about something that he’s passionate about, how they light up when he sees you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why? Why not?)

Neville might want kids at some point, but he’s not in a rush and if you don’t want to have children, he wouldn’t mind either. For him, having you, your plant babies and Trevor Jr. is more than enough for him and he loves your family as is.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

He likes to curl up against you with his head on your chest and his arms wrapped around your waist, your fingers combing through his hair.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

Neville likes to plan small, quiet outings where you can both be comfortable. Often times, a picnic by the lake or walking through town and window shopping. If he wants to be romantic, he’ll dress up and cook dinner for you at home. Going all out with candles, wine, and flowers.

E = Everything (You are my _____ (e.g. my life, my world))

“You are my reason for smiling everyday.”

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Neville fell for you so quickly and easily, he thought it was embarrassing. It was during his time at Hogwarts with you, after a particularly awful session of Potions where it seemed that Snape had it out for him - more than usual. You trailed after him, grabbing the sleeve of his robe.

“Are you okay?”

He shook his head, “I will be.”

You frowned, but tugged him along. “We’re going to the lake.“

“Why?“

“To cheer you up, of course.”

He followed after you, listening as you ranted about how awful and unprofessional Professor Snape was, with a pounding heart that was a pile of lovesick goo.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

Neville could not be rough. Even if he tried. There is not anything in his being that would permit him to be anything but gentle.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

When you first started dating, Neville had a hard time showing affection. Not because he didn’t want to, he was just shy and awkward. And, coupled with the off-looks he received — it was awkward. However, hand holding is the first thing he got down. He loves it. Will hold your hand at every given opportunity.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

Neville noticed your kindness; how you stood up for others, helped them with the smallest of things...and wanted to be able to know you. He could be content with being your friend.

J = Jealously (Do they get jealous?)

He doesn’t get jealous, it’s more of a sad wallowing. His self-esteem is pretty low and you’re way out of his league, or so he thinks. Whenever someone comes along and flirts with you, rather than stepping in (he knows you can handle yourself anyway) he tends to drift away as negative thoughts plague him. You have to coax him back to you with kisses and reassurance that you love him.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

His kisses are soft, hesitant almost, but sweet. He has a hard time believing that you would want to be with someone like him, so he makes sure to cherish you.

You kissed him first. It was after a ‘date’ and he was walking you back to the dorms when you stopped and gave him a small peck on the lips before scurrying away. Neville’s poor heart almost gave out on the spot.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

He does.

You had just moved in together, it was only a few weeks in and were planning what to put in the garden. There was so much available space and the ideas were limitless. Neville was practically heart eyes looking at you as you rambled on about how there should be different quadrants for the patches to best utilize it. You then mentioned making room for a greenhouse, knowing how much Neville adored the ones back at Hogwarts.

“Merlin, I love you.”

You look at him warmly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too. Now, where should we put it? I think on the south side, because that area gets the most sun.”

Yes, he was in love with you.

M = Memory (What’s their favorite memory together?)

You shield your eyes, casting a look over the beach. The sun was only just beginning to rise over the horizon, a soft glow of yellow glistening over the water.

“This is perfect.” You say, grinning back at Neville. He can’t help but stare at you; seeing how the light makes your face glow, the tired but happy look in your eyes.

This is perfect.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

Neville doesn’t necessarily spoil you with gifts, but with acts of services and quality time. He would rather plan an evening in with you, relaxing and romancing you than to gift you something. Although when he does, it’s thoughtful and something you thought he wouldn’t even notice.

O = Orange (What colors remind them of their other half?)

Green — he first properly talked to you in the greenhouse, during a class, and since then he’s associated green with you. Plants are his passion and he’s lucky enough to have you interested in it, even if it’s only for his sake.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Sweetheart and darling are his go to.

Q = Quaint (What is their favorite non-modern thing?)

His grandma gave him his mother’s wedding ring and for a long time he wore it around his neck, but then he took it off one day to clean it. He thought he lost it and was in near hysterics when you got home, reassuring him as you helped him look. It was under the bed, but he realized then he wanted you to have it.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

He enjoys curling up with you and just relaxing. Sometimes, you’ll watch a movie or read books, but he’s content with whatever as long as he’s in your presence.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

Whenever he feels particularly upset, Neville will go outside to the garden and spend time with the plants there. This is normal for him, but he likes the familiarity of it, how it makes him feel in control.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

He can spend hours on end just talking about plants; all the facts he knows, new and old. Telling you the proper way to handle such and so, or how some of the plants are misbehaving. When he becomes a professor, he enjoys talking about his classes and students.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

For Neville, all he needs is some time in the greenhouse or garden and if you’re there? Perfection. Sometimes, if he’s feeling particularly stressed out, he’ll walk out to the pond that’s on your property and just sit out there for hours. That’s when you know to give him some space.

V = Victory (What is something they overcome? Are proud of?)

Neville thinks it’s a little stupid, but there used to be a plant in the garden that every season would wither away without fail. It was one of your favorites and he was determined to keep it living. And yet, nothing he did seemed to make a difference. He was doing everything right, by the textbook, and it still perished.

You had told him it was okay. But the next time he was planting seeds, he carefully placed them in a small pot and brought it inside to your bedroom — already full of plants. Every morning when he woke up he would place three drops of water, two drops of nectar, and a sprinkle of ground up cinnamon on the plant. You woke up when he let out a victorious shout months later after the same routine was followed. When you looked at him in confusion, you were shocked to see the plant fully grown looking perfect.

“You did it!” You exclaimed, tumbling out of bed to wrap him in a hug.

He grins, sweeping you off your feet in his excitement. “I did!”

W = Wild (What is a wild dream/wish/fantasy of theirs?)

Neville is content with his life, it’s turned out much better than he ever expected or hoped for, his wilder dreams are...well, we won’t say; this is the fluff Alphabet after all.

X = XOXO (Do they write love letters?)

Neville actually loves to write letters to you, so much that you’ve come to expect them for every birthday and anniversary. They’re always so sweet, tissues at the ready before you read them. You collect them all in a shoebox and Neville’s face was burning red all day when he accidentally found it.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

The idea of marrying you is a dream he often has, waking up with a smile and his heart about to burst when he sees you laying across from him. However, the idea of proposing to you is terrifying and it twists his stomach into an anxious mess. He knows you love him, but would you want to marry him?

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Neville gets a toad and names him Trevor Jr. and constructs an elaborate habitat for him both indoors and outdoors. You’ve walked in on him talking to TJ before while attending to his plants.

———

Everything tag list: @venusstarlight108 @knivestheresnothingtoit @yajairayellow @awesomefaith14 @ardentmuse @salladwinston @maddieb97222 @anchy-bananchy @staygoldponebone @unique05sstuff

Harry Potter tag list: @p-adfoot

[smileyjaeminies]

Prologue

Synopsis: Mad and broken hearted, you hastily write your name, joining a club you know nothing about. Meeting the boys who run it, your whole life seems to change.

Word Count: 4k

Genre: slow burn, angst, fluff

Warnings: none

Member: 00z, ft. Yangyang

A/N: This work has been a long time coming... I am so excited to finally be sharing it with you. This is going to be a rollercoaster, I can promise you that. I hope you can stick with me through it! Let’s goo and enjoy~

You can find the link to the series masterlist here

   You were on your way back home from your dancing lesson, on a cloudy Thursday afternoon. As you walked the all too familiar neighborhood, your mind drifted away and you were daydreaming. Your thoughts run fast and you didn’t want them to stop.

    Aloof as you were, the buzzing of your phone in your back pocket snapped you back from your reverie. The bright screen of your phone stared back at you as the familiar nickname shone against your lockscreen. You didn’t give the message a second thought, placing your phone back in your pocket and opting to read and reply to his message later.

     Your boyfriend however seemed to have other plans, spamming your phone. You were only a few blocks away from your house so you paused to shoot him a quick text to call him in a bit.

     You opened the messaging app and your heart stopped when you read his messages.

Kyle

Hey

We need to talk

I don’t think this is working out, we should stop seeing each other.

Sorry

It’s not you, it’s me.

Really.

   You stood on the sidewalk staring back at your phone feeling like a complete idiot. Of course Kyle wanted to end things. He was way out of your league anyway. What made you even think that he would even have true feelings for you?

   Then again, a text, A TEXT. Fuck Kyle. Fuck him and fuck you too for thinking you or your relationship would be anything more than a joke to him.

   You would not cry. You would not go on crying for a boy that just showed you how stupid he was. You would be the bigger person.

YOU

I don’t get it. I don’t. But fine. Have it your way. I hope you find someone who makes you happy.

   You sent the text without a second thought. Realizing you were still standing on the sidewalk in front of a stranger’s house, your body sparked into action before your mind did. Your feet found the way down the familiar path while your mind felt too numb to work.

   After arriving safely in the confines of your home, everything became blurry. It took a few seconds for you to register that you were crying silently. The steps to your bedroom seemed endless. You found yourself lying on your bed, staring at the clear white ceiling as if it held the answers to your questions.

   Your mind was still; your heart numb. The quiet buzzing of your phone next to you on the bed wasn’t enough to snap you back into reality.

   Your mom made an attempt to lure you downstairs for dinner but you declined, keeping your voice low. It seemed that the quiet helped keep your sanity.

   The sky burst with colour, saying goodbye to the sun for a few hours. The moon took its leading place in the sky racing to chase it around, never fast enough to catch him.

   You were thirsty. Making your way downstairs you welcomed the stillness of  your house, your parents off to bed. The clock on the oven announced the ungodly hour of 2:38am. You went back to your room, lying inside the covers, not even bothering to change.

   You opened your phone, opening the messaging app and writing only a few words that would prove to be enough.

YOU

He ended things. It was a rough afternoon. Meet me before school tomorrow.

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

   You woke up the next morning feeling like absolute shit. Your head throbbed like a hundred smiths were hammering on it ruthlessly. Your throat ached, your eyes were puffy.

   You tried to avoid your mom’s eye during your quick breakfast. She only half-knew about Kyle and you weren’t ready to explain yet. You dressed sloppily, getting ready for school. On your way there, you blasted music on your headphones, in an attempt to silence your thoughts.

   Before the school gates stood your best friend. She looked ready to slit some throats, you could feel frustration radiating off of her. Carefully folding your headphones, you turned to put them in your backpack.

   “Y/N”! She screamed upon seeing you.

   She rushed to you and the smile that spread on your face was a genuine one. Wrapped up in her arms you felt safe. You were not alone anymore. She was here and you were going to be together for most of the day.

   You were going to be okay.

   “You don’t have to say anything. The text was enough.” she whispered in your ear.

   She understood. It was going to be okay.

   “Elena” you started, breaking the hug and looking your best friend in the eyes. “Thank you”.

   She beamed at you. Grabbing your hand, she went on rambling about how her favorite band were probably preparing their next album and how she was STRESSED. You welcomed the distraction, nodding at her words to show you were listening.

   You stood next to her as she grabbed some things from her locker. Your eyes skimmed the notice board on the opposite wall. All the clubs were written there, the school teams and news.

   A plain piece of paper stood out to you. It was white, with bright red letters. You left Elena’s side and walked closer.

“Don’t need your love club”

   Five slots, all scribbled with hasty handwriting followed, and a small PS at the end.

   “Fuck your ex. Fuck your love life. Meeting Mondays 5pm”.

   “Don’t need your love club? I don’t think I’ve ever heard that before”, Elena said, now by your side.

   Fuck your ex indeed. Without much thought you turn to Elena.

   “I need a pen”

   “You’re joining? Why?’” she asked.

   It was true that besides dancing, you never showed much interest in clubs. You didn’t even know if you were going to follow up with it. But writing your name on that paper amidst your frustration felt good.

   You wrote your name and turned to face your best friend. You found her looking away from you, in an almost panicked state.

   “Y/N. Don’t look. Don’t look, but he is coming over” Elena whispered.

   “A small victory, followed by a large defeat” you thought.

   You stare at the wall, trying to find something interesting to look at. You couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the way your heart raced, fighting to break through your ribcage and into his hands.

   “Y/N…” he started and you felt a sob shake your body.

   “What do you want?” Elena asked for you.

   “Can I talk to Y/N alone for a second?” he asked, turning to her.

   “What would you have to say? You said plenty yesterday.” Elena answered.

   “I just want to explain. If you just let me…” he said reaching for your shoulder.

   You flinched away from his touch, finally turning to face him. He looked fine. It bothered you so much that he looked at you with those innocent eyes of his, looking at you the way he would look at you before. As if he hadn’t just broken up with you through text.

   He was startled by your reaction. Quickly composing himself, he tried again.

   “Y/N…”

   “No. Stop. I have nothing to say to you.” You told him proud of your steady voice.

   “I can explain. Please.” He said.

   What was he pleading about? He started all this. He should reap what he sowed.

   You moved your backpack further up on your shoulder.

   “I. Have. Nothing. To. Say. To. You.” You said emphasizing each word. “Now, I have to go to class”.

   You pushed his shoulder in your attempt to get away from him. You feared he would try to grab you, turn you to face him again, try to explain. He didn’t.

   You couldn’t decide whether you preferred it that way or not. Trying to breathe, you walked towards your classroom. Elena was next to you in no time. She was talking to you, but you couldn’t hear.

   Blocking everything out, you let the day pass past you without paying it any mind. Your mind couldn’t focus for more than a few seconds at a time and it left you disoriented and dizzy. You vaguely remembered Elena being there for most of your classes as you sat in your chair wondering what your teachers were talking about.

   Returning home that night, you turned off your phone, leaving it to lie upon your desk, next to your laptop. You needed some time off the grid. Snuggled deep inside your covers, watching re-runs of FRIENDS and reading, your heart finally began to feel a bit lighter.

   Your mind was calm and your heart (mostly) in peace by the time you picked up your phone again. Opening it, messages started pouring in, from Elena, other friends and even your dance instructor.

   You smiled seeing all those people reaching out and trying to help. You felt bad about blocking them out, but you also knew you needed it. You went through your messages, replying to everyone before setting your alarm for the next day and falling asleep.

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

  Mondays were always the worst. You started your day content, getting from class to class and keeping notes. As your lunch hour approached with you and Elena barely making it through a Physics quiz, you couldn’t wait for the day to be over and done with.

  Sitting down next to your friends, you felt a tiny bit better. You were still tired and you couldn’t wait for the day to be over. You were taking small bites at your chicken sandwich, when you felt a slight tap on your shoulder and a voice calling your name. Turning around you were met with Renjun.

  “Renjun, oh my God hi!” you said, getting up and giving him a hug.

  You couldn’t really say you and Renjun went way back. He was one of those people you could just be casual friends with. You shared a couple of classes, you talked on and off but that was about it.

  “I’m sorry for bothering you while you’re eating, I couldn’t find you the rest of the day” he apologized.

  “It’s no problem, come sit down. Hey Iz, scoot over a bit” you said as you both sat down. “So, what’s up?”

  “It’s nothing big, I just wanted to ask you something” he said.

  You thought it was super weird that Renjun had something to ask you. He was almost a genius, getting the best grades in almost every class. What help could you be to him? You didn’t voice any of this however, seeing that his expression was serious.

  “Shoot away. I hope I can help!” you answered.

  “You signed up for the Don’t Need Your Love Club? Why?” he asked.

  You were taken aback by his question to say the least. So it wasn’t about classes or homework. That’s why he came to you. Trying to compose yourself, you replied.

  “I- I did, but how would you know?”

  “I’m a member too. See it’s kind of a running joke between me and my friends… Not really a club. We just wanted an excuse to stay at school and see each other so that’s all we came up with.” He said.

  “Oh, am I ruining your party? I don’t want to be a burden or anything-” you were saying but he cut you off.

  “No, no, nothing like that. I just thought you and Kyle-” he started, but looking at your expression, he cut his sentence short.

  “I’m sorry for bringing it up, I didn’t know…” he trailed off.

  “It’s okay. I mean, it’s not right now, but I’m going to be fine. To be totally honest with you, I don’t really know why I signed up to the club. I was kind of pissed at Kyle for breaking off things with me. It felt good writing my name on that piece of paper. Sorry, I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this.” You told him, smiling apologetically.

  “It’s fine, I get it. Maybe you should come after all. It’ll do you good. Kind of like an AA meeting” he said, giving a laugh.

  You shot him an incredulous look “We’re underage!” you screeched.

  “I said almost!” he replied, both of you laughing it off.

  He gave you a small hug, before getting up.

  “5pm. Meet me outside the computer room on the second floor.” He told you walking away.

  “I’ll be there!” you answered.

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

  Time seemed to slow in an unforgiving pace after your meeting with Renjun in the cafeteria. The clock on the wall of your classrooms mocked you as you watched the minute clock chase the hour hand around.

  You didn’t really know Renjun’s group of friends. You were almost certain Jeno, one of the basketball team’s stars, was his friend. You had also seen him hang around with Donghyuck, a semi familiar classmate of yours. Renjun wasn’t popular, but he was extremely kind and friendly, so seeing him walking around with someone wouldn’t really be a clue… Would it?

  What got you feeling anxious was a group photo Renjun had uploaded on his Instagram. It showed five boys, all people you recognized from around school, without really knowing them. The photo showed the boys in different poses and you could tell they were having a blast.

  What if these were the friends Renjun talked about? What if they were mean or rude to you? What if they just didn’t like you and forced you out of the club?

  You knew you were reading too much into it, but you really couldn’t help being nervous. You tried to calm down and focus back to what your teacher was saying in front of you but you seemed unable to bring your mind to rest. Finally, with a promise to meet next week with a new topic, your teacher let you go just as the bell rang.

  You took your time as you gathered your things. Walking in the hallways, there was the usual hustle and bustle of students dropping things off or picking things up from their lockers, looking for their friends or speaking with one another.

  Unlocking your locker, you left most of your things inside, almost emptying your bag. You hated carrying stuff around when you didn’t have to so you just made a mental note to come by before leaving.

  “So, ready to go?” Elena said behind you, making you jump.

  “Jesus girl you almost gave me a heart attack!” you scolded her, giving her a playful shove.

  “Can’t help it if you’re always on edge! Relaaaax!” she dragged out.

  “I am walking in unknown territory here you know” you stated matter-of-factly.

  “How so?” she asked.

  You turned to her, giving her a pointed look. She realized she had forgotten something, so she got to thinking. Elena tended to be forgetful about things in the most adorable way possible, making you unable to get mad at her. You gave her some time until she got it.

  “You have the thing with Renjun!” she said, proud of herself.

  “Ding ding ding!” you told her sarcastically.

  “Oh, I’m pretty sure that cute guy is gonna be there too!” she said.

  “What cute guy?” you asked.

  “Oh, you know which one, the guy who just transferred here! You don’t? Oh he is CUTE I’m telling you. He has a weird name though, can’t remember” She said.

  “I’ll take your word for it!” you replied.

  After bidding Elena a quick goodbye, you walked up to the second floor looking for the computer room Renjun had mentioned. After finding it you looked around for him, but he was nowhere to be seen.

  Checking the time, you realized you were still a few minutes early so you did your best to keep yourself entertained until Renjun showed up.

  You were just about to beat your high score to the game you were playing when you heard the sound of footsteps rushing towards you. Renjun threw you a huge smile upon seeing you and you returned it.

  “I almost forgot I had to pick you up! C’mon, the others are already there!” Renjun said, excited.

  Renjun clasped your hand in his and dragged you through the hallways. You were running, feet echoing on the empty halls, but your laughter was even louder. You begged Renjun to slow down but he just laughed and urged you on even more.

  Renjun finally managed to slow down before the auditorium doors.

  “We have the whole auditorium for ourselves? How many people are there?” you asked, trying to catch your breath before walking in.

  “Five, now six I guess. We wanted to bid you a warm welcome so Yangyang and I skipped class to prepare something for you.” Renjun announced.

  “Renjun, you shouldn’t have! I hate being in the spotlight, what am I going to do?” you told him.

  “It’s a silly thing, I’m just being dramatic. Don’t worry! I’ll be next to you the whole time, I promise. Besides, we’re all friends here, and the guys are waiting to meet you!” he said.

  With the mention of “the guys” your heart dropped. You really didn’t know what you should expect to find behind those doors. You tried your best to calm your heart and silence your mind.

  “The second you leave me alone, you’re dead Huang Renjun” you told him, attempting to give him a scary look.

  Renjun reacted immediately, saluting to you and then bursting in laughter. He grabbed your hand again and you couldn’t help thinking how soft his hands were, while yours were sweaty and almost shaking.

  You walked through the doors together, and you were met with a huge banner, painted in red and black reading ‘KYLE YOU SUCK’. Three boys were standing in front of you, smiling wildly, party poppers at hand. You tried to cover your ears but Renjun’s hold on your hand was firm, so you just turned and buried your face in his arms.

  “WELCOME TO THE CLUB” the boys shouted behind you.

  “You okay?” Renjun asked in a low voice.

  “I’m going to kill you” you whispered back at him.

  Renjun only beamed back at you and lead you to his friends. Introductions were in order so you quickly found out that the transfer student’s name that Elena talked to you about was Yangyang. Of course, Jeno was there, offering you his signature eye smile. Lastly, there was Jaemin, your school’s official heartthrob.

  You recognized them all from Renjun’s Instagram, but you didn’t mention it, politely smiling at all of them, even hugging Jaemin. You were just about to note that someone was missing when Yangyang spoke up.

  “Hey, have any of you talked to Hyuck today? He wasn’t in any of the classes we share.” He asked the other boys.

  “He said he would show up eventually… Don’t worry about it, he’s going to be here.” Jeno responded.

  “Why don’t we sit down? There’s no reason for us to be standing.” Jaemin offered.

  You all went to fetch chairs and placed them wherever you wanted, but keeping close to each other. Renjun waited for you to place your chair somewhere and came to sit right next to you.

  As it was expected from good friends, the conversation quickly shifted to trivial matters. You found out that you and Yangyang shared the same passion for dancing, although you had to admit that his burned a little brighter. Jeno, Renjun and Jaemin talked about classes and projects you had no idea about. It didn’t feel awkward, it didn’t feel forced and you found yourself enjoying the company of the boys more than you thought you would.

 You and Yangyang were watching a video of one of his competitions when the auditorium door burst open and someone walked in. Donghyuck walked in and the reaction from the boys was instant. Renjun left your side to greet his friend. He led him towards you and tried introducing you.

  “Y/N, this is-” he started, but he was cut off by Donghyuck.

  “We’ve met” Donghyuck flatly stated.

  “Oh” Renjun said. “Well finally, another familiar face for you, Y/N!”

  You wanted to shake your head, to tell Renjun that what he said was so far from the truth. You forced a smile to your face and looked at Donghyuck.

  Donghyuck disliked you since the first day he met you. You had shared classes in the past and in every single one he avoided you as much as he could. When he felt especially feisty, he would make sure to comment on anything you did or said that day. He had found a brilliant way to push your buttons and he seemed to enjoy it like nothing else.

  The group’s dynamic changed with the arrival of Donghyuck, all turning to hear where he had been all day. You couldn’t help but feel like you were intruding, but as Renjun took his seat next to you again, you knew you couldn’t slip way.

 Donghyuck leisurely took his seat opposite from you, shooting you a pointed look. How could you describe it? It was an intense stare, like he was staring right through you and into your mind, reading your every thought. He looked away first, turning to Jeno and recounted the events of the day.

  You dropped your head, opting to look down at your phone and try to block out the conversation. You scrolled mindlessly through Instagram when you heard Renjun’s voice quietly whisper in your ear.

  “You want to get out? I can walk you home.”

  “I do actually… There’s this assignment I have to turn in tomorrow.” You whispered back.

  Renjun only nodded back at you. When Donghyuck finished telling his day’s adventures, he immediately spoke up.

  “Okay you guys go on if you want, Y/N and I are going to head home.”

  “So soon?” Yangyang turned to you.

  “Yeah, sorry everyone, there’s this assignment I have to work on” you said.

  “Well if it’s about school work there’s not much we can do” Jeno said, hugging you good-bye.

  “Oh yes, God forbid goody-two-shoes Y/N turns in something late, the world is going to fall apart” Donghyuck said.

  Taking a deep breath you decided to brush him off. Having said your good-byes, you and Renjun left the auditorium. You stopped by at your locker, taking the things you needed and started the short walk home.

  This would be the time you would take out your headphones, play some music and allow it to wash over you. You loved listening to music while you walked, feeling the steady rhythm of your feet on the pavement and the bass of the music leading you on and on.

  However, you had to admit that walking back with Renjun was just as enjoyable. You talked effortlessly as you walked close together, your hands brushing at your every move. Somehow, without you noticing, Renjun was holding your hand again. You smiled looking down at your entwined hands.

  Arriving at your house you turned and hugged Renjun.

  “Thank you for today. You were right, I did need this. Thank you for the banner too it was… Rewarding?” you said, unsure at your choice of words.

  You felt the giggle rush through him in the hug. As you both broke away, he graced you while a wide smile.

  “I’m glad it helped. Really.” He said.

  “I know you are.” You said.

  He was about to say something, you could see it in his eyes. He chose not to though, only turning you around and softly pushing you towards the door.

  “The assignment isn’t going to write itself! Off you go ‘goody-two-shoes’”

  There was a tone of endearment in the way Renjun used the nickname, a tone that made your heart feel a certain sort of way. You didn’t let him see it though, only walked to your house. When you got to your front door, you turned around and weren’t surprised to see him standing in the same spot. You stuck your tongue out at him and he laughed, head falling back and eyes closing.

  It was a beautiful sight, you decided. As an artist yourself, you loved beautiful things and so you’d have to put Renjun’s heartfelt laugh on that list.

  And that wasn’t a bad thing at all.

[calligraphist-artemisia]

Across Time and Space (Chapter 4)

Summary: Sequel to I’ll Take Her Place.  Slav is showing off a piece of experimental equipment, when it malfunctions and blasts Katie and Keithir to another universe. At the same time, it drags Pidge and Keith over into theirs, effectively swapping places. With their fate resting in the hands of Slav, will they be able to get back home? Or are they stuck to live the rest of their lives in the wrong universe?

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net under the username “kishirokitsune”.

There will not be a chapter next week (April 19), since I'm taking a week off to focus solely on my short fics for Kidgeweek. So watch out for the next update on April 26!

Chapter 4

ALTEA – CASTLE OF LIONS

Yorak listened from the door with wide eyes as Shiro and Allura talked. His furred ears twitched slightly, straining to pick up on their words and his tufted tail curled around one leg as his worry spiked.

He knew eavesdropping was bad, but he only wanted to say “hello” and ask if they would play hide-and-seek with him and Uncle Matt, and then he heard them talk about Mom and Dad and how they were gone...!

But weren't they supposed to be gone? They told him they were going on boring adult vacation and he was going to stay with Uncle Matt, grandpa, grandpa, and pawpaw to have a fun vacation! So why were Shiro and Allura talking about it like it was a bad thing? Did something bad happen?

Yorak swallowed the whine that started to build in his throat and rubbed his eyes, trying his best not to cry. He shuffled closer to the door to try and better hear what they were talking about.

“...have to tell him. He's with Matt today, so if we go tell the others first and give them time for the news to sink in, they'll be better prepared for any questions Yorak has,” Shiro said.

Allura sighed heavily. “I know you're right. I just wish we didn't have to. He's not even five yet! How are we supposed to tell him that his parents vanished and we aren't sure where they went or how to get them back?!”

Tears spilled over as Yorak backed away from the door, no longer interested in what Shiro and Allura were saying.

Mom and Dad were gone?

But that wasn't right.

They couldn't be.

Yorak wrapped his arms around himself and sniffled. They were wrong. His parents weren't missing and he would prove it.

He raced through the halls, paying no attention to the Alteans he passed by. They were familiar with his boisterous antics anyway and were hardly fazed by the sight of him running. He didn't stop until he was standing in front of his parents' door, panting from exertion. Yorak stood on tiptoe to reach the keypad and hit the buttons in order just like he'd been shown and the door soundlessly slid open.

“Mom?” Yorak called out as he stepped inside. “Dad?” His eyes landed on two people in the room, who stared back at him in surprise, and for a moment there was only silence.

And then Yorak's vision swam as tears filled his eyes. He sniffled as the truth set in; his parents really weren't there. An ugly sob broke free and he started crying in earnest, too overwhelmed to know what else to do.

Pidge and Keith exchanged a startled glance. They'd been quietly reviewing what they learned from Shiro and Allura and trying to come up with their own plans for getting home, when the door opened and presented a whole new unexpected dilemma.

Hearing that she and Keith were married was as much of a surprise as seeing that he had a Galra form. And while Shiro and Allura hadn't said much more about the lives of “Katie” and “Keithir”, Pidge had put together her own assessment of them after looking at all of the photographs and shared them with Keith. Some he'd figure out on his own – like the fact that the Galra cub who appeared in later pictures was their son.

The same Galra cub who was sobbing in front of them.

Pidge had no idea what to do. Should she try to comfort him? Or go find someone who knew him? It didn't seem right to leave him alone when he was so obviously distressed, but--

Keith was already moving. He knelt in front of the cub and reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder. The cub responded by sobbing louder and latching onto Keith.

“Shh, it's alright,” Keith whispered reassuringly.

Pidge moved a little closer, watching in amazement as Keith slowly calmed him down. After a few minutes of soothing words, the cub pulled back and rubbed his eyes, only to freeze again when he got a good look at Keith.

“D-dad?” His lower lip wobbled and for a moment, Pidge thought he might break down again. Violet irises set against gold sclera turned to her next. “Mom? But... but you're so little...”

“We're not exactly...” Pidge faltered, unsure of how to tell him.

“Where's Mom and Dad?” demanded the cub, standing up straighter. “What did you do to them? I want them back!”

“We swapped places with them,” Keith explained, keeping his tone calm. (A feat Pidge admired him for, considering the current level of frustration she felt had her teetering on the edge of panic.) “We don't know how yet, but Shiro and Allura have some very smart people working on a way to fix things. And where we came from, I'm sure your mom and dad are looking for a way to get back to you.”

Pidge took a deep breath and knelt down next to Keith. “I'm going to help too. I won't give up until you have your parents back, I promise.”

The cub gazed at them for a long moment and then nodded. “'kay...” He shuffled his feat, ears twitching as he thought hard about something. “You look like them.”

“We're kind of them, but younger,” Pidge said. “I'm Pidge and he's Keith.”

“I'm Yorak.”

At last, a name to go with the face.

Yorak looked much more hopeful, if still (understandably) upset. “You're really gonna help?”

Pidge nodded. “Absolutely.”

That was enough for Yorak, who sniffled and rubbed his eyes, composing himself as much as a four-year-old could before leaving without another word. Pidge and Keith sat in silence for a long while, until Keith stood up.

“How did you know what to do? With Yorak?” Pidge asked as she stood as well, stretching out her legs to alleviate the cramped feeling.

Keith shrugged. “I just thought of what my dad would do. The rest was just, I dunno, instinct or something. Kolivan...” He paused to get his thoughts in order. “Kolivan says that's what my gut feelings are. It's Galra instinct.”

“I'm glad. I was so busy thinking about what I should do, that all I could do was stand there, overthinking things like always.”

“Better than being reckless and impulsive,” Keith muttered bitterly, turning his back to her as he walked to the bathroom. He shut the door behind him, signaling the end of that conversation.

Pidge couldn't help but stare after him in wonder. What was that about?

ORBITING OLKARION – CASTLE OF LIONS

Katie happily sighed as she curled into Keithir, content for the first time since waking in the unfamiliar reality. If not for the fact that her stomach had finally settled and was beginning to grumble, she would have happily stayed in bed with him for a while longer.

“Think they'd be mad if we sneak out to the kitchen?” she asked sleepily.

“They never said we couldn't,” Keithir murmured. “Want me to go so you can rest, or do you want to go too?”

Katie reluctantly extricated herself from his arms and shook her head. “No, I'll go too. They might ask us to stay in place after this, so I may as well walk around while we still can. I also want to see if Hunk's there. I bet he'd answer some of the questions we have.”

Keithir nodded in agreement and a few doboshes later the pair made their way down the too-quiet hall, thankful that the layout of the Castle of Lions was the same. They arrived unhindered and found Hunk and Lance hanging out in the kitchen. Hunk was busy baking, while Lance played the part of the taste-tester.

It was such a familiar sight, that Katie found herself smiling at the two of them, any trace of apprehension gone.

Hunk noticed them first. “You're here! Wait, are you supposed to be here?”

Keithir answered him the same way he answered Katie earlier. “No one ever said we couldn't.”

“Oh, um, yeah. No, I guess we didn't.” Hunk looked from them to the food and then back again. “So are you guys hungry?”

“I don't recommend the food goo,” Lance spoke up, gesturing for them to join him on the bar stools.

Katie looked a little green. “Yeah, I think I'll pass on that for now. Have anything peanut butter flavored?”

Hunk shook his head. “I haven't managed that yet. What I do have is a bowl of berries that taste kind of like bubblegum, but also kind of not? I think it's just the texture that throws it off and makes it weird. Oh! I have bread!” He excitedly pointed to a loaf that was bright yellow in color with specks of red and orange. “I've been thinking about making a jam to go with it, but I haven't found the right fruit yet. Lance threatened to throw the berries out of an airlock when I tried to use them.”

Katie and Keithir settled in next to Lance and listened to Hunk ramble on about his ideas for meals. Lance pushed a bowl of what resembled oatmeal toward them, along with a plate of what Katie recognized as quetzlflakes.

Figuring it was the best of the (clearly experimental) food available, Katie spooned out some for herself and then passed it off to her husband.

“Is it safe?” Keithir wondered out loud.

“Well Lance is still alive. Seems safe to me,” Katie said jokingly.

“Ha ha,” Lance said dryly, rolling his eyes. “Maybe next time I'll let you taste before I do.” There was a pause and then he grinned at them. “Things really aren't so different, are they? I mean, I know this whole war is different for you, but all of us are the same, right?”

Katie took a bite of food and took a moment to chew and swallow before answering. “Everyone seems mostly the same. You and Hunk are just as inseparable in our reality.”

Keithir chuckled, but otherwise kept his amusement at her statement hidden.

Hunk perked up at the topic. “Will you tell us about them? Or anything about your reality? You took all that time to listen to us – well, Allura – fill you in on the basics of ours, but all we really know is that the two of you are married.”

Katie figured it couldn't hurt. It wasn't like they were dealing with time travel, where they'd have to be careful about what they revealed. Still, she figured she'd start small.

“Well, Coran has recently taken it upon himself to expand his knowledge of courtship in different planets we're allied with. They're highly entertaining to read and I think he inspired Shiro to write his own on what to expect while courting an Altean,” Katie told them.

Lance and Hunk listened raptly as Katie talked about whatever silly thing she could think of. And while she'd initially hoped to gather more information for herself, bonding with the younger versions of her friends felt more important.

That was how they spent the rest of their evening; like four old friends catching up on things they'd missed.

[overdorklord]

🍹 for a short fanfic/headcanon of our muses

[Send 🍹 for a short fanfic/headcanon of our muses 

As always, short in my imagination. I took longer than i thought damn it  ]

Necessary snack

It didn’t happen often for Overlord to allow new guards to follow him in such  complicated missions.This time however,  he didn’t have enough time to bring Cyberbug back and continue alone. Yes… because a simple rescue became something much more delicate when one of the prisoners attempted to escape.If before those poor mechs’ biggest problem was a kick in the denta every time their jailor approached their cels to feed them, now the Autobots of that ship became enraged.  

Sir Soundwave let Overlord know that the first unfortunate prisoner was already being tortured while they were almost there… and from the sounds he could hear, they were having their sweet revenge on the mad Decepticon who attempted to escape.

He wasn’t sure why he decided to do that, but possibly it had something to do with the threats of his captors.

Echo was sitting outside, over the ship plating, but it was obvious he would have soon returned in. The young satellite and the Communication Officer gave Overlord these worrying news at the same time. Problem was that if Sir Soundwave was used to this, hearing terrible screams of pain and words of hate and amusement followed by more cries and pleads for mercy… Echo wasn’t.

It happened to have him hearing all this a couple of times, but now so loud and clear, probably shook him much more.

And in fact, there he was, quickly floating inside and pressing his servos over his audials.

Overlord instead was nervous and as soon as the little mech arrived, he picked him up, cuddling him.

Cyberbug  surely would have wanted to to go comfort him, but as he though, maybe for the moment it would have been much better to let  his “creator” do the work. Who better than Overlord to comfort the little satellite?

He wasn’t as worried for the prisoners as he was for Echo, he really didn’t need to hear all those cruelties his old colleagues used to say and do to their victims, it was like a nightmare.

Surely the little mech stopped listening but he’d say he heard enough by now! He was keeping the situation under control when suddenly everything started and he stopped listening when things already started. It wasn’t much, but for that kind of mech, more than enough!

«Overlord» he called, once the tiny mech stopped shivering, but then didn’t say anything else. He wanted to go too, he wanted to follow the pink Sixer.

Anyway… better not insist now. Better just wait for them to arrive first,  instead of insisting and insisting.

The satellite eventually calmed down and the duocon was careful to lie him down on Trepan’s berth, just for the mnemosurgeon to emerge from underneath and swiftly reaching up to cuddle him.Two problematic mech left together alone. Maybe Cyberbug should have remained, but then realized it wasn’t the case to add a third.

When they arrived, Overlord walked over the exit and the blue mech followed. The duocon looked at him, huffed but didn’t even try to say not to follow. There was no time and knew the mech well enough to be sure nothing was going to stop him now. «It’ll be dangerous… make sure to stay out of my way, I’ll be making quite a riot.»

Then next thing he knew, he was flying across space inside Overlord’s combined jet mode. He wasn’t the fastest vehicle ever, but damn. The Autobot’s ship must have spotted him when  it was too late, they shot a couple of missiles and they both shattered against the Sixer’s hard armor. Cyberbug got pushed back from the impact, but for the size of those weapons, it  almost felt like Overlord  just hit against a couple of fragile glass bottles… maybe already cracked.

He let the blue mech land opening the cockpit and allowing him to jump down. On all four, he found himself over the ship and had only a couple of seconds to brave himself for what came next: Overlord transformed in the air and let himself fall. Heavy pedes cracked the metal, a jump and the second time they came in contact with the ruined surface, he was falling down the hole he created. Destructive. But effective!

Cyberbug grinned and dived into the darkness. Broken metal shards and wiring all around this deep hallway.  It should have been terrifying for a normal mech maybe. But this descent into the depths of the enemy territory made his optics shine bright with excitement. All he had to do was to stay out of Overlord’s way. He could work with that. The last floor became visible and that’s when he decided he reached his destination. His arms pushed forward and sharp digits rasped as hard as they could against cabling and broken pieces of metal all around. A warm trail ran down the wrist to the elbows. Hm, he got wounded… but that has never been a problem, at least these weren’t self inflicted or caused by one of his ex-companions. In those cases he could have started to worry.A swift look around to see where his jump leaded him. It seemed to be a long corridor with nobody around. Even better! The blue bot pulled himself up before giving a last  look down the hole, seeing how the last floor where the deacon landed was just ten meters below. Instead, when he looked up, he saw the tiny exit that leaded outside. Well damn, Overlord… such an entrance he made! And he was continuing from the loud noises and tremors he heard. All the mechs must have went there to get him… or they just ran away in fear.

Overlord was such a kind mech, too kind for the type of weapon he was, and yet some of these autobot still feared him. He suspected that this was caused because  they knew he caught them alive. Sometimes, especially in times of war, people known for catching their enemies alive were considered more dangerous. There were many reasons for that. Being alive meant they could still suffer tortures, and this alone was enough. It meant they could be interrogated and let information fall into the opposing faction’s servos.

And even if they wouldn’t have been tortured, sometimes left to rot in a cell was even a worse option… yes, because Cyberbug knew of mechs preferring to save even the energy of a swift kill. Yeah, they caught the enemy, threw them in a cell and let them starve to death. Usually they didn’t even bother to throw them away… they herded these corpses in small cells just to sell them all once they happened to find someone interested into metal or spare parts.

Somehow, he was sure this ship didn’t have such lazy workers. It was huge, clean even. He had no idea who the commander was, but his men weren’t just a group of losers. These were refined.

A light chuckle escaped him. And that was why Overlord’s fighting style was the best choice really. Chaotic, random… almost as if he was playing. The Sixers passed through walls, broke things on his way and these couldn’t expect anything, because when they seemed to be getting used to his randomness… well, the deacon stopped and began to fight. And what a way to fight: he gave such strong kicks these poor soldiers flew down the corridor and remained there or because of the shock or because they fainted.

The Blue mech swiftly flattened himself on the wall and let two soldiers pass by as soon as he spotted someone’s leg appearing down the corridor. He wouldn’t have been noticed, knowing how worried they were and thanks to the iron pipes that partially shielded him with their shadow. Surely he’s been lucky to be there in that moment. And he was even luckier when pushing an audial to the silver metal had him hearing some weird sound.

The cold surface rattled unnaturally and muffled howl could be heard coming from the inside. Cyberbug focused more on it, the finally deciding to break it open. A part of him really wished he hadn’t done it. The the howl was clearer now, and it wasn’t a howl. It was a cry, a mix of sobbing and confused rambling. Oh well! What did he find here? He found a pipe connecting directly to the cells it seemed!

His expression changed again from bold to disgust when he looked at his servo, the one he used to scratch and break open the metal. A dark grey-purple goo covered his digits. The pipe was a… residue drain. The confirmation came when he took a deep intake near it. Ugh! The smell coming from it was horrible! A mixture of rotting energon, oil… and something else, something viscid. The mech was fast to clean the servo quickly over the wall. It wasn’t the time to guess wha kind of disgusting substance he had on his digits: it was time to climb up and follow this fragging pipe!

Surely he couldn’t pierce the wall like the Sixer did, so began to look for stairs or a lift, keeping an optic on that pipe, trying to follow it, keeping an optic if it disappeared, if it turned…

It did indeed turn at one point and that was when the little blue mech began to follow it. The level he reached was probably below this cells area. He found it to be impossible to continue upstairs. There were too many bots! Whatever happened, they were probably starting to kill the prisoners huh?

This whole area was empty instead and to reach up, Cyberbug knew that in this case, piercing the wall was the only option. It wasn’t so hard however, when he found an air vent. Sure, dirty and tight, risking let him remain stuck, but at least it made digging less complicated. He climbed up, reaching around the area where he found the pipe disappear up in the high floor. The noises were louder and it was possible hearing the torturer. Or the executer in this case.

A sharp scream, followed by strangled sounds, as if the victim was being… drowned? What was he doing??

Other yells could be heard… screams of horror rather than pain. Uh-oh. This gave Cyberbug the idea to start digging now, immediately. Overlord didn’t react well when he found dead Decepticons. Nope.

The little mech started to dig, sinking his claws deep in the ceiling above himself, scratching, tearing apart the pieces he managed to pull away. The screams became more sobs, panicked flows of words, begs… And he could still hear that drowning sound. What the Pit where they doing??

Finally, claws met nothing but air and everything stopped. His servos were all ruined, leaking energon and dripping.

When the hole became wider, Cyberbug jumped up, emerging from the ground and getting ready to fight. He was used to disgusting views but this still made him wince. Mostly… mostly because he imagined what would have Overlord felt if he saw this.

There were three Decepticons chained on the wall, all of them had their frame covered in cuts. The obvious weapon being a sharp whip with metallic blade at its end, left there over the wall, still dripping.

Probably they’ve been having fun until they realized Overlord arrived.

It was… at this point they started to get a bit faster with the execution. Even if despite everything, these psychopaths seemed to be enjoying taking their sweet time despite knowing they had to hurry.

He saw these two tormentors holding the unfortunate mech, tied on the floor, right above the drain. He looked terrible, dripping energon and.. something else from the mouth. He clearly purged his tanks not too long ago because of the fresh mess on the ground and all over his front. He missed parts of plating behind his back, had a wire attached to it. It was a torture device… electric. It was a metallic sharp and that once stabbed deep enough in soft cabling could send electricity across the whole circulatory system. And they probably used it at some point, judging by the smell of burnt cables…

Apparently, he arrived just in time before his demise at least. He wasn’t drowning… but his mouth was occupied by a tube, some sort of pump. The autobot behind his back holding him up from the nape and chin, showing they must have forced his mouth open… the one on the front responsible of this pump. Cyberbug quickly eyed where the tube connected. A tank full of a transparent fluid… where a pack of  hungry scraplets swam.

The poor mech stared at his savor’s direction with optics wide open, trying to spit out the deadly weapon and struggled to get free before it could be too late and they could begin to fill his tanks up to get eaten from the inside.

The two Autobots smirked at Cyberbug. «Would you look at that…! We were just starting to kill the trash here.»  The one holding the pump said, and the other chuckled «Traitors end up in the same group of trash.»

The blue mech hissed at the two, who only laughed at his threat. Who did they think they were? Immortals? did they think they had the upper hand because they were two? Because they were two big enemies, bigger than him, with more weapons they could use? Did they think they were safe? Protected?

«Oh well, let his present you some friends, they’re very hungry and a snack like you won’t ruin their appetite.»

The pump was extracted from the Decepticon’s mouth and jet of water was shot in the blue mech’s direction.

There were many things Cyberbug was at the moment. Angry for being called trash, for being laughed at. Numb… mostly for the prisoners, who were nobody to him. Worried, for Overlord: if he saw what happened here he was going to blame himself.

But there was something else, something that was no emotion, something primitive. Something that instinct controlled, something that would have blinded rage and hate…

«I am hungrier.»

That was all they heard before the Ex-Autobot swiftly lowered himself to dodge the jet and throwing himself at his targets, jaws and claws bare to sink into metal.

The pink duocon arrived soon.

He sadly wouldn’t have had made it in time to save that poor mech that Cyberbug happened to rescue just in time. Luckily for them, he followed him and Overlord let him.

The blue bot was busy untying the other prisoners’ wrists. At the moment one would have taken at least a couple of seconds to understand if the mech was originally pink and got stained in blue or the other way around. Cyberbug looked like he’s been washed with a bucket full of energon.

Overlord approached him and picked him up, making sure he was fine…. that wasn’t all his, right? No? No he…

«I’m fine, I’m fine Overlord!» he assured, giving a swift hug.

«What happened? Where are the guards?»

He looked around and saw at least fifty scraplets jumping around on the floor, mostly over the biggest pink stains where metal pieces remained.

«A-a-ate… t-them»

The shocked and scared voice of the mech over the drain reached the Sixer’s audials. Oh. He swiftly went to scoop him up. That was the very mech that made all this possible… since he was crying and shouting over the drain.

Overlord hugged the poor Decepticon tightly and looked at Cyberbug. He… didn’t want to know if it was the mech’s  doing..or the scraplets’. He wasn’t so stupid and knew the answer, but at least he could pretend He could… pretend not to know and have doubts.

«Cyberbug… thank you for saving them»

The blue bot smiled, proud of himself. While those who saw what happened here… well, give them a few days to realize what would have happened to them if he didn’t arrive in time. They would have calmed down and stopped fearing him eventually.

[thinkingaboutyoungroyals]

On That Swing Set

(Also available to read on AO3.)

The chains holding the swing creaked with each kick of his legs. He moved in a gentle rhythm, one that he was used to. Although he had a taste of the exhilarating feeling of swinging higher, he still wasn’t comfortable attempting it on his own. Visions of flying off the swing and landing on his face was still a fear of his.

Nonetheless, Cyrus felt his anxiety calm with each swing. His heart still felt heavy but it was manageable. Such was the healing power of swings.

He had spent an entire afternoon at the Spoon watching Jonah and Andi make goo-goo eyes at each other. Although, normally, he would probably go “aww”, Cyrus had come to the point where he could no longer ignore the stab in his heart each time Jonah looked at Andi like she was the moon and stars combined. Sometimes, he wondered if Andi forgot that he had feelings for Jonah too.

Anyway, when Buffy decided she had enough of “JanDi” and left to go home, Cyrus had followed but he didn’t want to go home yet. His feet took him to the swings and he had been there, swinging in various speed intervals in the last hour.

“Hey, Underdog.”

Digging his heels into the ground to pause his movement, Cyrus flashed the familiar newcomer a smile.

“Not-so-scary basketball guy,” he greeted, simply.

TJ chuckled as he settled on the swing beside Cyrus. “Why is my nickname so long?” he asked.

Cyrus shrugged and began to swing again. “It suits you.”

TJ seemed to accept that with a nod and began to swing, lightly.  “So, what are you doing here all alone?”

“Swinging my insecurities away,” Cyrus answered before his own words dawned on him.

It was too late. TJ had stopped swinging and turned to him with concern. “You wanna talk? I’ll listen.”

Cyrus slowed his swinging, setting a gentle pace as he stared at the ground, silent. TJ didn’t force him to talk, simply waiting for Cyrus to talk first. He appreciated that since he wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it.

But, TJ was a good friend. He would listen to him, right? Cyrus knew he could trust TJ. He had been nothing but a supportive friend to him all these months. The jock always listened to him ramble about one thing or another all the time with no complaints. He would bring him chocolate chocolate chip muffins when he knew Cyrus was down. And, sometimes, when Andi and Jonah were off doing their thing and Buffy was unavailable, he would let him Cyrus hang out at the Gym with the kids while he worked.

TJ had always been understanding of Cyrus’ “stuff”.

“I… I have a secret…” he began, slowly. “And… I don’t want you to think of me, differently.”

He snuck a glance at TJ. The jock flashed him a gentle smile. “I won’t think differently of you, Underdog. I promise.”

Cyrus swallowed the lump in his throat as his anxiety began to build up again, but he willed himself to try and calm down. He needed to at least say the words. It just occurred to him that he never really said them out loud before, not even to Buffy or Andi.

Cyrus swallowed again before blurting it out.

“I’m gay.”

And just like that, it felt like a weight off his shoulders, a thorn removed from his side. He could breathe.

All these months, he had been drowning in the overwhelming feelings of finding out that he wasn’t straight, that he had a crush on his best friend's boyfriend, that he was gay.

And now, some of that weight was gone. It was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Beside him, TJ had gone silent, his face unreadable as he stared at Cyrus.

The feelings of anxiety bubbled in his stomach again. But, then, TJ smiled.

“I don’t think of you differently,” he stated. “There is nothing wrong with you, Cyrus.”

He echoed Cyrus’ own words from so long ago. He remembered them.

Cyrus’ heart pooled with warmth and his anxiety slowly dissipated. TJ didn’t think differently of him. He accepted Cyrus. Anxious, accident-prone, gay Cyrus.

“Thank you, TJ,” he said, gratefully. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“Anytime, Underdog.”

TJ then looked at the ground, suddenly serious. He seemed to be contemplating something.

“Well, I have a secret too. Do you want to hear it?”

Cyrus’ eyes widened in surprise, but nonetheless, nodded. TJ was trusting him with another secret and he wouldn’t be a very good friend if he wouldn’t even hear him out. Besides, he was a little curious.

TJ scrunched his brows before taking a deep breath and turning his head to Cyrus. Their eyes met.

“I’m gay, too.”

Letting out an involuntary gasp, Cyrus could only stare back in shock at TJ.

TJ. Jock. Basketball team captain. One of the most masculine guys he knew. Was gay.

Cyrus was well-aware how stereotypically gay he tended to act so TJ... To know that TJ was just like him… it was definitely a surprise.

“I think… I’ve known for a while…” TJ continued, looking away from Cyrus now and looking off in the distance. “That was probably why I acted like such a jerk for a while and why I… was in denial about my dyscalculia.” He let out a sarcastic chuckle. “I was already… not normal… and a learning disability on top of that? I know that’s not an excuse for acting like a jerk, but… I was… so confused about everything. I felt… different.”

“You’re not different, TJ,” Cyrus said, as comfortingly as he could as he echoed Buffy’s words. “You’re still you. And… I’m still me. We’re still us.”

TJ turned to him with a small smile. “And I thought I was supposed to comfort you. But here you are, again, helping me, as always. You’re really something special, Underdog.”

Blushing, Cyrus laughed. “We help each other. I guess that’s what makes us great friends.”

TJ’s smile widened and he nodded. “Are you feeling better?”

“A little. It’s nice to that someone else is… the same as me.”

“Me too. I’m glad it’s you.” He cleared his throat. “So was that what you were worried about? That I wouldn’t accept you?”

Another lump formed in Cyrus’ throat. “Partly.”

He began to swing a little, not quite as high but just enough for the movement to soothe his nerves. He had already told TJ his biggest secret. He might as well go all out.

“You see… there’s this guy I like,” he began, eyes on the ground in front of him. “I’ve liked him for a while now. He’s so handsome and he has the cutest smile with the cutest dimples. Whenever I see him, I can’t help but feel all happy, like the world is just… bathed in sunlight. Oh god, that sounded so cheesy.” Cyrus let out a chuckle before sighing. “But… he doesn’t like me back.”

“How… How do you know? Maybe if you tell him, he might feel the same way.”

Cyrus released a humorless laugh, turning to the jock. TJ had stopped swinging and was watching him, carefully.

Cyrus could feel his lip trembling. “I like Jonah… but Jonah is with Andi.”

A tear fell from his eye. Surprised, he lifted a hand to wipe it away. He didn’t even realize that he had started crying. And just like that, more tears followed.

“S-Sorry,” he apologized to TJ as he wiped them away. “I… I don’t know why I’m suddenly crying. I mean… I knew from the very beginning that he would never like me back. That he was too focused on Andi to even notice me… But… It still hurts…”

A creak from the other swing reached his ears and through his tears, he saw TJ’s silhouette in front of him. He looked up just as the other boy crouched in front of him, so he was now looking down at TJ.

The jock reached up and wiped the rest of the tears away from Cyrus’ cheek, offering him a gentle smile.

“It’s okay,” he said, softly. “You’re allowed to cry.”

Sniffling, Cyrus willed himself to stop crying. Only because he felt really embarrassed crying over a boy in front of someone else.

“S-Sorry,” he said again.

TJ shook his head. “Don’t be, okay?” He wiped away the last of Cyrus’ tears before resting his hands on his knees. “You’re allowed to be upset if the guy you like wants to be with someone else. It’s painful for now, but… you’ll heal. I promise.”

Forcing a smile, Cyrus nodded before tilting his head to the side. “You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

At that, TJ laughed, softly as he stood up. “Yeah… I guess, in a way, I am.”

He made his way back to his swing and began to move, kicking his legs lightly in the air.

“You like someone?” Cyrus couldn’t help but ask.

TJ’s face appeared to fall and Cyrus realized how prying he sounded and was about to apologize when the jock stopped swinging. He turned to Cyrus and nodded, solemnly.

“I do,” he admitted.

“Does he know? Or have you told him?”

TJ shook his head. “No. And… I don’t think it’s the right time to tell him about my feelings either. He’s… not ready for me yet.”

Confused, Cyrus furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean by that?”

The other boy sighed. “He… likes this other guy. And he’s still really hung up on him and… I don’t think I have a chance. At least, not at the moment.”

“I’m sorry, TJ.” Cyrus reached out and patted the older’s boys knee. “If he can’t see how great of a guy you are, it’s his loss.”

Placing his hand on top of Cyrus’ on his knee, TJ managed a small smile. “It’s okay.” He smiled. “Maybe someday, I’ll be able to tell him. And I hope, by that time, he’ll give me a chance.”

“You’re a really great guy, TJ, and if he can’t see that and give you a chance, then it’s his loss.”

Laughing, he squeezed Cyrus’ and. “And Jonah is blind for not seeing an amazing guy like you. It’s also his loss.”

Standing up and walking in front of Cyrus again, the jock held out his hand.

“You want to get some ice cream? My treat.”

TJ had always said that he wasn’t the best when it came to expressing his feelings, but he was getting better at them. He had managed to calm Cyrus down, comforted him by telling him his own secret. They had shared their woes about love with each other and because of that, Cyrus believed that their bond had just strengthened even more, right there on the swing set where they had their first real conversation.

He couldn’t imagine his life without TJ in it anymore. And for that, he was grateful.

Grinning, Cyrus tilted his head in an affirmative. “It’s a date,” he piped, taking TJ’s hand.

For a second there, he could have sworn TJ’s lip twitched and his cheeks turn pink. But, before he could take a closer inspection, TJ was already pulling him away, presumably to lead him to the ice cream parlor and Cyrus had no choice but to follow.

Not once did TJ let go of his hand the entire way. 

[k-reativefantasies]

VIXX Adventures: Leo (Part 3)

Genre: Sci-fi, Fiction, Action adventure, thriller. 

Summary: You’re thrown into a labyrinth with ten levels filled with monsters and the bare essentials to survive. Maybe with some help from Leo you’ll make it through this dangerous game alive. 

Word count: 2080

Note: Please Read Previous parts and Intro to VIXX Adventures first!  Chapters: Intro , Part 1, Part 2 

As soon as we entered the next level my bracelet beeped with a new objective. New Objective: Survive the night on level five. 4/10 levels completed. 

Leo didn’t say a word or even look at me as the doors opened. The frustration and anger nearly oozed off of him and I knew that I was the cause.

 “Leo I… I’m sorry I-”

“Nothing you have to say is going to fix this so don’t waste time talking. Follow my lead, stay quiet and we might live through the night.” He snapped without glancing my direction. 

“What about the safe zone? We have an hour.” I pointed out trying to be optimistic. 

He growled in annoyance and turned around to face me leaning down and getting in my face a bit, which had me flinching backwards. “There is no way we are going to find a safe zone in under an hour especially not by ourselves. We have no supplies, No extra equipment and we are going to run out of ammunition real fast on a level like this. So realistically there’s a large probability we won’t make it through the night. However our odds will be a lot higher if you shut up and follow my lead since I’m the only one here who knows what they’re doing!” 

I swallowed thickly his anger hitting me hard. I was scared enough as it is and I knew that some of his anger was his own fear talking but him lashing out was not going to help me stay calm. “Well if I’m such a problem why bother protecting me at all? Why not just leave me here to die and go save yourself if I’m that incompetent!” I shouted at him out of hurt and frustration. 

The anger on his face shifted to a look of deep pain and hurt before he composed his features into a stony mask once more, “ Follow me or don’t but we’re wasting time. We need to try and find somewhere somewhat safe to wait out the night until we can find the safe zone in the morning.”

 He adjusted his gun in his arms and started walking off quickly without looking back. 

I was mad at myself for my childish outburst and the fact that it had clearly hurt him. We had been finally starting to get along this morning, yet things went sour so fast. I suppose that was the purpose of the maze. I followed him as closely as I could as we twisted and turned through the maze. There were no screams on this level since no other people were around but there were mechanical clicking noises and the grinding of gears as well as some more ominous bestial sounds. 

Finally after a full half hour of walking Leo paused at a dead end and turned toward me, “What do you have in your inventory?” 

“I uh… let me see.” I checked back through my inventory quickly and relayed what it contained, “I’ve got a auto refilling canteen, a food supplier, a bed roll, a grappling hook, a highlighter stick, a bunch of coin from the boss monster and my weapons obviously.”

“Of course otherworlders get all the good supplies. Figures.” He huffed and shook his head, “Give me the grappling hook. I’ve got an idea.” I obliged and handed him my grappling hook. 

He took a few steps back surveying the high wall of the maze. He swung the hook in circles and released it the heavy metal flying up and amazingly catching onto groove in the wall that I couldn’t even see. Leo tugged the rope to make sure it was secure and then tied it around my waist. 

“What are you…”

“I’m going to climb up to the top and the hoist you up. Unless you would prefer to stay down here and be monster food.” 

“How do you know there aren’t monsters that can climb up there?” 

“I don’t but it’s certainly a safer bet than staying down here where I know they can get to us.” He said with a slightly annoyed look. 

Before I could come up with a smart-ass response he had grabbed the rope and was tugging himself up the rope. I found myself admiring his arms as he climbed, not in a dang that boy’s fine kind of way more in a I wish I had that kind of upper body strength kind of way. Although one definitely could not say he didn’t have nice arms. In a matter of minutes he had pulled himself to the top. 

He looked down and breathing heavily, reaching for the rope to start pulling me up. “Hey wait! You’re exhausted let me try climbing it on my own first.” I called up to him. 

“Alright then. Shout if you need help.” He said disappearing out of view again, which made me feel a little less self-conscious about my skill level.

 I untied the rope from my waist so that I could clamp my feet onto the extra bit like Leo had and I reached up to grab the rope with my hands. Slowly I started inching my way up the rope. A couple times my feet slipped and I had to start over but once I got the hang of how to position myself it became a little easier. Only a third of the way up my hands were sore from the texture of the rope and my arms and legs ached with the strain. I kept reminding myself how close I was and felt determined not to have Leo help me.

 I had just hit the halfway point when I heard a clicking metal grinding noise followed by a high pitch whining noise that grated on my ears. I looked down and froze in fear halfway up the rope as a creature that looked like a tiger and praying mantis had a cyborg alien baby entered the hall of the maze below me. I couldn’t call for Leo or I would attract attention. My only option was to get to the top and pray it didn’t see or hear me before I made it. Straining and stretching I continued up the rope as quietly as I could.  

I was almost at the top when the thing let out another cry this one sounding like a warning cry and it started racing at me with its metal legs scraping the smooth maze floor below it.

“Leo!” I cried and looked up but he was already there reaching his hand down the last few feet to grab me. 

The thing leapt and made it two thirds of the way up the wall it’s razor arms slashing at me. I screamed and kicked at it, which was stupid since it looked like it was made of razor blades. I gave a sharp cry of pain as a cut blossomed on my leg. 

“Hana focus! Grab my hand! Quick before it jumps again!” Leo cried to me a hue of desperation in his voice. I girt my teeth ignoring the tears of pain in my eyes and reached for his hand. He grunted and hauled me up hard the rest of the way falling backward with the effort of getting me over the edge of the wall. Thankfully the wall was wide enough that we didn’t topple over the opposite side. I fell on top of him both of us breathing heavy. 

The moment of pause only lasting a second as I rolled off of him grabbed my gun and angrily shot down at the tiger bug thing screaming at in frustration and feeling very satisfied when it exploded into goo. I didn’t realize I was still shooting at it until Leo put his hand on my shoulder. 

“Hana it’s dead stop. Hana you’re wasting amo. Hana!” finally he shook me a bit and I stopped dropping my gun on the wall next to me, quiet tears streaming from my eyes as I tried to wipe them away. I saw Leo’s expression soften at the sight of my tears.

 He pulled some bandages from his inventory along with some ointment, “Let me see that leg.”  I had kind of forgotten my injury until he mentioned it but once I was aware of it again the pain came back pretty strong. It felt like a paper cut that was just deep enough to be a pain and went all the way up the side of my left calf. I readjusted so that my leg was lying across his lap. 

He pulled out a knife and cut off my pant leg. “Aw darn and those were my favorite pants too,” I joked my voice oozing in sarcasm. 

A slight snort slipped from his lips and I caught the hint of a smile as he focused on his task.

 “I’m sorry was that a laugh I just heard? Did I see you smile? The stoic warrior Leo finally cracks a smile. Wow I feel so successful right now.” I said grinning as I teased him. 

He gave me a slightly exasperated look but I could tell he was still amused. “This will sting a bit but it’ll stop the bleeding and make sure it doesn’t get infected.” he warned as he put some of the ointment on my leg. 

I hissed as the cut burned and sizzled where the ointment touched it but I focused on Leo’s gentle fingers wrapping the bandage over the wound and that helped distract me from the sting.

 “Well I think we’re pretty much stuck here for the night with your leg like that plus this is as safe as anywhere else I suppose. You should get out your camp supplies and get some rest I’ll take first watch. I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn.” 

A comfortable silence came between us for a moment and we both looked out over the maze. Leo’s eyes traced the walls watching their patterns and probably looking for the buildings that were the safe zones.

“The louder grinding noises we’ve been hearing are the walls moving. That must be one of the ways the levels get harder from here on out is that the maze itself changes each night. It’s going to make navigating these levels a lot harder, which makes sense. The wardens don’t really want us teaming up and organizing anyway but the also can’t do too much to stop that.”

I listened to his ramblings absorbing the information but also not in a place where I felt like talking more about the mechanics of the labyrinth and the game. I’d been in survival mode long enough for one day. 

“Leo…” 

“Yeah?”

 “I really am sorry I got you stuck in here alone with me. I should have been more careful. I feel so guilty, you having to watch out for me all the time.”

“Well if it makes you feel better you aren’t completely useless, you learn quick and you have good instincts,” He replied with a hint of a smile on his lips. I perked up a bit at his compliments, feeling a bit better about myself for once. 

“Also I owe you an apology too. I’ve been especially hard on you because you’re an otherworlder and while it’s true that you have less knowledge about the labyrinth then those of us who get put in here as criminals of war, it doesn’t make you useless. I also have been unfairly associating you with some of my own emotional baggage,” He said as he took my hands and put some of the ointment on the rope burns there.

 “Thank you for that,” I whispered softly, grateful that he was starting to open up to me a bit, “You’re talking about the last otherworlder right? Did you… did you really kill them?” I asked hesitantly. 

Leo didn’t seem like a cold-blooded murder so I had to assume if he did kill the last gamer to come in here then he had a reason. Though I was rather shocked the company would let someone else in here after a death occurred. 

“Yes and no…it’s complicated and a long story. You need to rest. You do have a right to know Hana and I promise I’ll tell you about it. Tomorrow once we make it to the safe zone then I’ll answer any questions you have no holds barred alright? For tonight though you need to rest. Tomorrow is going to be a tough day.”

With that I nodded, got out my bed roll and laid down closing my eyes to try and get some much needed rest.  ~Admin Chu <3