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bella-rose29 · 11 months ago

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I love you (have I said that before?)

"Is that Joplin woman still here?" You grimaced at his nod. MOOD I grimace at her all the time

'researchers are just a little weird, I mean, look at me' ok yes they're a little weird, but you are not a psycho, George. you don't give off creepy vibes. you give off very homely vibes that make me feel warm and happy. Joplin makes me feel sick.

He seemed exhausted, pale and with dark circles under his eyes. omg Georgie nooo

"And we took a little bath in the Thames." Lockwood didn't smile, and the comment didn't roll off his tongue as effortlessly as usual. probably bc Lucy is mad at him and he's just a sad wet cat at the moment

George would rip me to pieces if I were to let you in harm's way so carelessly. He would quite literally kill me and probably put up my head next to those ghost masks in the hallway. tell me you're in love with someone without telling me you're in love with someone

curled up in George's favourite armchair in the library this has the same vibes as stealing his clothes and I love it

Each one featured George, dying a more gruesome death every single time. DON'T DO THIS TO ME MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT

It didn't take George long to notice the dark circles under your eyes. turning into lockwood oh no we can be raccoon besties

That night, you went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately. someone teach me how 🙏

you wanted nothing more than a glass of cold water. there is nothing better than that glass of cold water in the night when you're so so thirsty omg it's like I ascend the fabric of this reality

George gently took the glass out of your hands, put it down on the nightstand and then wrapped his arms around you without saying a word. You buried your face in his chest, finally allowing the tears to fall freely and the sobs to wrack your body. He gently caressed your back, not letting go until your sobs slowly subsided. SOBBING I NEED THIS

George's hand rested on your thigh, where his thumb was rubbing soothing little circles while you drank the rest of the water. I need this too but for very different reasons

his grip on your thigh tightening. don't think about it don't think about it don't think about it don't thin-

George took a deep breath, then he cupped your cheeks and gently turned your face towards him. Suddenly your heart was beating rapidly again, but this time not because of panic. me right now omgggg

He smiled at you, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Let's sleep." FOREHEAD KISSES HAVE ME WEAK I MELT ON THE RARE OCCASION I GET ONE

He laid down, leaving enough space for you and you cuddled into him. His arms wrapped around you, and suddenly you were surrounded by his scent and his warmth and you just closed your eyes. this sounds perfect

hi!! i was wondering whether i could request a george x reader with she/her pronouns? maybe the reader is an assistant at lockwood and co and george is really protective over her bc she’s super sweet. maybe after the joplin incident she keeps having nightmares and george goes and comforts her, and lots of cute fluffy stuff :)

Nightmares

A/N: first off, thank you so much for your request! I had such a great time writing it. I hope you don't mind that I expanded on your idea a little, it just inspired me a lot. There is quite a lot of angstiness in the first half, but I made sure to include lots of fluff in the second half :)

I hope you enjoy it because personally I think this is one of the best things I've written so far and I'm very proud of it <3

pairing: george karim x fem!reader

word count: 3.2k

masterlist

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You had just finished the first chapter of your newly acquired book that you had gotten from the library this morning when it knocked at the door and Lockwood stuck his head in. "We're leaving now," he said. You put your book aside and followed him out into the hallway. Lucy was waiting at the door in a beautiful royal blue dress. "Where's George?" you asked.

Lockwood gave you a tightlipped smile. "He's staying here. Says he's not done with the research yet."

"Is that Joplin woman still here?"

You grimaced at his nod. A part of you felt bad because you were genuinely happy for George. He seemed to have found someone who shared his passion for research, but at the same time, you couldn't help but be creeped out by this woman. Something about her just didn't sit right with you. When you had brought it up to George one time, he had just dismissed it with a 'researchers are just a little weird, I mean, look at me'. You didn't agree at all but decided to just let the topic go.

After Lockwood and Lucy left, you weighed your options. Either you could go back into the living room and continue your book, or you could join George in the kitchen. Usually, the answer would have been obvious: join George in the kitchen with your book. But with Joplin in there… You sighed, walking back and resuming your place in the armchair.

The next time you put your book aside was when you heard a commotion from the kitchen and then a door closing. "Is she gone?" you asked, stepping into the hallway. George turned around. He seemed exhausted, pale and with dark circles under his eyes. "Yes, she, unfortunately, had to leave already", he said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. You didn't say anything, but apparently, your expression said enough. "I know you don't like her, Y/N, but she just … cares a lot." A moment of silence. "You wouldn't understand." Your chest tightened at his words. If he just knew how much you cared.

You smiled weakly, not wanting to argue with him. In the kitchen, the entire table was covered in books. Some were opened, others piling up. Pieces of paper scribbled full of notes and diagrams and timelines were scattered all over. George cleared the table of the tea cups and brought them over to the sink. You noticed a packed duffel bag next to the door. "Are you leaving now?" you asked. "Yeah, meet-up time with Flo is in twenty minutes," he said after a look at the clock. You watched him gather his things and put on his shoes and jacket until he was standing by the door, ready to go.

You went up to him and hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around you, and you stayed embraced like that for a while before he gently pushed you away. "I have to go now." "Please be careful, okay?", you whispered, and he nodded. "No George, you need to promise me. That you're gonna be careful" you repeated, your tone urgent. He smiled down at you. "I promise, LISA."

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The next few hours you alternated between reading a few pages, and then pacing around the house when you couldn't concentrate longer than a few minutes before the anxiety was too bad. You knew how dangerous their mission was, and it killed you inside that you couldn't help them. But you also knew that Lockwood was right when I told you that you wouldn't be of much use, seeing as you currently didn't have much practice with a rapier. So you had no other choice but to stay home and wait for them to return, hopefully, all in one piece.

It was several hours past midnight when the sound of a key turning in a lock made you jump. You had nodded off at the kitchen table, too tired to keep your eyes open after a while. The kitchen door flew open and Lockwood and Lucy came in, both dripping wet. Lockwood had a cut on his temple, face all bloody. You rose from your seat.

"Where's George? What happened? Are you okay?" Frantically you hurried around the table, quickly checking to see if they had any other injuries, but they seemed to be fine. "George should be back in a while, he went to drop off the mirror", Lockwood said tiredly, taking one of the biscuits off the plate you had prepared for their return. You could feel yourself relaxing a little. All was well, they got the mirror and it was probably already safe with DEPRAC. "And we took a little bath in the Thames." Lockwood didn't smile, and the comment didn't roll off his tongue as effortlessly as usual. You could tell he was still tense. Lucy had been quiet, water dripping from her hair down her dress and making a puddle on the floor. "You two should take a shower," you said. "I'll wait here for George."

Soon you were alone in the kitchen again, but now any trace of tiredness was long gone. The tight knot of anxiety in your stomach had returned quickly, tugging on your insides. You knew it was part of the plan that George didn't arrive here with Lockwood and Lucy, but you couldn't help that your mind was running a million miles a minute, imagining every possible way something could have gone wrong.

You busied yourself with preparing a fresh kettle of tea and some sandwiches, and when you were done, you sat back at the table. That's when your eyes fell onto a thin, black book that was lying across from you, completely unassuming. You immediately knew that this was what your colleagues had risked their life for tonight. You picked it up, inspecting it from all sides. It had a simple black cover, and when you opened it, the pages were thin, almost brittle to the touch, and yellow at the edges. You quickly flicked through it and scanned over the pages before you froze. There was a picture of a man holding a mirror into a woman's face. That seemed promising. You hurried to read the text that accompanied the illustration, almost stumbling over the words in your head.

Yes, I killed him. Shot him with my father's pistol, sealed him with iron, buried him deep. Yet I still see him when I close my eyes, swathed in his velvet cloak, performing his rituals. I shall claim an act of self-defence, a bid to save my soul.

So Mary Dulac killed Bickerstaff. But why? You kept reading.

His cunning servant trapped me. The doctor held the glass before me. One glimpse and I felt my sanity shake loose. For this looking glass was not a mirror after all, it was a window. Only one glimpse, and I am damned. All I want to see is more.

You read over that paragraph again. A window? To where? What did she mean? You inspected the illustration once more, this time more closely. It didn't take long for you to discover the swirling shape inside the mirror, and at once you could feel a wave of cold dread wash over you. You knew that symbol. You knew it very well. With shaking hands you pushed away one of the mugs on the table and revealed what was underneath. The same swirling shape, etched in there by a black pen. The very pen you had gifted George a while back.

You felt your throat close up, the anxiety you had been feeling turning into a full-blown panic searing through your entire body. George must have looked into the glass. And if Mary Dulac was telling the truth, that meant he probably hadn't dropped it off at DEPRAC.

"LOCKWOOD! LUCY!" You wanted to scream, but your voice gave out on you. Wasting no time, you sprinted upstairs, colliding full force with Lockwood who was on his way downstairs.

"Woah, Y/N" He caught your wrist, furrowing his eyebrows at your dishevelled state. "What's the matter?" "The mirror is not a mirror and George looked into it and now he's obsessed and he -" You stumbled over your words, unable to form a clear sentence.

Lockwood brought you back down into the kitchen and Lucy managed to calm you down enough so that you could explain to them what you discovered. "We need to go back to Bickerstaff's grave" decided Lucy, already starting to throw chains into a duffle bag. You jumped up from your chair. "I'm coming with you."

Lockwood looked at you as if you just suggested you throw yourself down the staircase. "Absolutely not," he said firmly. "But I have to! George is in danger!" Your voice was high-pitched, and you were still shaking. How could Lockwood possibly think that you would just stay here when George - your George - was in a situation like that?

Lockwood grabbed you, fingers digging into your arms, forcing you to stand still as he looked at you with a grim expression that you had never seen on him before. "Y/N, listen to me. Yes, he is in danger. And no, you're not coming with us." "But -" "No buts. George would rip me to pieces if I were to let you in harm's way so carelessly. He would quite literally kill me and probably put up my head next to those ghost masks in the hallway. And he would be right to do so. You are not trained right now, and as your employer I'm telling you right now, you're staying back."

You were stunned. Lucy pushed Lockwood aside, embracing you tightly. "It's gonna be fine, Y/N. He's gonna be fine. And you know that he would never want you to risk your life for him."

You knew she was right, but you also knew that George would not hesitate a single second to go save you if the roles were reversed.

"I can't just stay here and do nothing," you said weakly, voice wavering. "You're not doing nothing", Lockwood reassured you. "You can make preparations for when we come back. George's probably gonna be out of it. And if things go south and we're not back in the morning, you call DEPRAC and send them after us."

You decided not to argue with him over the fact that if they were not back by morning, they were probably all dead anyways. You knew that Lockwood would not change his mind.

The next few hours were the most agonizing in your life. If you thought you had been anxious before, that was nothing compared to how you felt now. Your whole body felt stiff and weak at the same time, and you could not stop your hands from shaking. After accidentally dropping a mug (it was one of Lockwood's favourites, but you decided it didn't matter after the way he dismissed you earlier), you just left the kitchen and curled up in George's favourite armchair in the library, staring at the ceiling and willing for the minutes and hours to go by faster.

Finally, after what felt like several eternities, the sound of the doorbell rang through the house. You scrambled to get up, getting caught in the blanket you had thrown over yourself and almost crashing into one of the bookshelves before regaining balance and dashing to the door.

You ripped it open, and as you saw George standing in front of you, looking tired but unharmed, you collapsed into his arms with a sob. He caught you and wrapped his arms around you so tightly that for a moment, you couldn't breathe. But you did not care. He was alive, and that was all that mattered.

"Let's get inside", he said softly, and you reluctantly let go of him. Suddenly you felt exhausted, all the tension from the night falling off you at once, making room for relief. Silent tears were streaming down your cheeks, and you made no effort to stop them. George's gaze softened as he looked at you and he gently wiped away some tears before hugging you again and placing a kiss on top of your head. "I'm okay, Y/N. You don't need to cry."

That night, or rather morning, you fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. The next day was spent recovering, and Lockwood, George and Lucy filling you in about what exactly happened last night. Knowing how they narrowly avoided death several times made you feel horrible, especially because you still felt so useless. While they were out there, risking their life for each other, you had just sat at home, doing nothing but panicking. George had assured you multiple times that you did the right thing, and that all he wanted was for you to be safe, but you couldn't quite shake the feeling.

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That was when the nightmares began. It started with you jerking awake in the middle of the night, tangled up in your blanket, your hair a mess and your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin. Your heart was racing so fast you thought it might explode in your chest, but you could not remember what you dreamt about. All you knew was that you were filled with a great sense of terror every time you woke. But every night, the dreams would get clearer, and worse. Each one featured George, dying a more gruesome death every single time. Shot by Joplin, suffocated by the vengeful ghost of old Bickerstaff, driven into madness by the bone glass.

It didn't take George long to notice the dark circles under your eyes. One morning, a few days after the incident, he stopped you on the staircase. "Y/N, what is going on with you?", he asked, taking your hand and squeezing it gently. "You look like you haven't slept in days." You smiled at him, trying hard to not appear as tired as you were. "I'm doing fine. Just not sleeping very well." You didn't want to tell him that you weren't sleeping well because you saw him die in your dreams every night. Knowing George, he would blame himself, and that was the last thing you needed him to do after everything he went through.

That night, you went to bed and fell asleep almost immediately. Next thing you knew, you were awake, the scream that woke you up still on your lips, shaking worse than any night before. You gasped for air, taking deep, long breaths trying to calm your racing heart. Your fingers were gripping the blanket so tightly it hurt, and you willed yourself to release them before getting up slowly. You were weak in the knees, but after a few seconds, you felt steady enough to make your way downstairs. With your mouth feeling dry like sandpaper, you wanted nothing more than a glass of cold water. You slowly took one step after the other, careful to avoid the ones that creaked when you stepped on them.

The staircase was dark, only illuminated by a few beams of moonlight cutting through the darkness, so you did not see George standing at the door to his room. "Where are you going, Y/N?" You flinched, clasping your hand on your mouth to stop the startled yelp. "I just want something to drink." Your voice was as raspy as if you hadn't talked in days. George extended his hand. "I have something in my room." You didn't have the energy to argue, and if you were honest with yourself, in this moment there was nothing you wanted more than to be with George. Just to know that he was alive and well and all your dreams were truly just that: dreams.

You took his hand and he lead you into his room, to his bed, where you sat down. He poured you a glass of water from the carafe on the bedside table and handed it over to you. While you were sipping, he shuffled around somewhat awkwardly, before sitting down next to you. "Can you please just tell me what's going on with you, Y/N? You're worrying me. You've barely eaten the last few days and you look so tired." You didn't reply. "Plus I heard you screaming just now", he added quietly.

Something about the way he said it, the way he sounded so sad, made all your resolve crumble. You tried to blink away the tears that threatened to spill over your lashes, looking away from him so that he didn't see your tears.

When you sat back up, your eyes were puffy, but you already felt better. You hadn't realised what toll it had taken on you to bottle your feelings up like this. George's hand rested on your thigh, where his thumb was rubbing soothing little circles while you drank the rest of the water.

"You wanna tell me what's going on?"

"I've been having nightmares", you quietly said. "About you and the bone glass." George let out a long, drawn-out breath, his grip on your thigh tightening. "I'm sorry, Y/N", he finally says, and you shake your head softly. "It's not your fault, Georgie. I just wish I could have helped."

"Y/N. Do you have any idea how relieved I was when Lockwood and Lucy appeared in that catacomb and you were nowhere to be seen? You know how much it helped me, knowing that you are here and that no matter what happens, you'll be safe? You'll be okay?"

Warmth spreads in your chest at the sincerity of his words. "But that's the thing, George. I would not have been okay. If something had happened to you…" you trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. George took a deep breath, then he cupped your cheeks and gently turned your face towards him. Suddenly your heart was beating rapidly again, but this time not because of panic. "But that didn't happen", he said, his left thumb wiping away a few stray tears from your cheek. "I am here, and I am okay, and you have nothing to worry about. Okay?" "Okay."

He smiled at you, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Let's sleep."

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"You can stay here every night, you know that."

And this time, there was no nightmare.

#fic recs #george karim x reader #george karim #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #lockwood & co x reader

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d0llhrts · 3 years ago

Text

ᨳ. 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 ↝ 𝐛𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: basically the bowers mansion video but you're there and you help colby when he's scared because *awee*

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing and fluff bc <;33

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: colby brock x fem!reader

𝐚/𝐧: my first imagine slay 😎 THIS IS NOT PROOF READ BTW!! i decided to do it on this video bc its probably one of my favs omg the activity they caught!! plus colby playing with the cats was so cute stop. i do have a questions box on here so if you wanna request something feel free!!! ok hope y'all enjoy ღ

bowers mansion - from the front, looks like a stunning victorian Italianate-style house hidden within a small neighbourhood in texas. but what lies inside is much more sinister than you could imagine.

and this is where i found myself, in between my two best friends - and seth of course - counting down as they prepared to say their welcomes to a camera, or their youtube subscribers. the intro was done and everyone introduced themselves, then sam suggested we should have a look around the property.

round to the front side of the house there was a cellar, a common recurring theme through all of the haunted videos the boys have done. "oh my god, no way!" sam panned the camera around to the three of us standing there behind him "someone is going down that cellar tonight" he immediately put his finger up to his nose, colby followed and i seconded it by one swift movement of my finger. everyone panned around to look at seth as he quickly realised what was going on, unfortunately, he was too late meaning he was going into the creepy cellar tonight, but we'll see where the night takes us.

we all took a minute to group up and sensibly, like adults, speak about what we were going to do tonight. all eyes were on me as colby asked me "are you scared" obviously mocking but i hoped to god he couldn't see that twinge in my eyes as i started up at the house. of course i was scared, i was about to step foot into a haunted house for the second time ever, the sallie house was not the best to look back to for comparison. but, my answer was a simple "no" as i rolled my eyes and playfully pushed against his shoulder, feeling the twinge of pink coming to my cheeks at the close contact.

sam made a great note to point out the cock on the bell next to the door as we stepped inside this house. Inside our tour guide was already waiting for us, holding his companion, his dog alice."wassup alice" colby said in that tone you use to speak to animals "just bites my hands off" he followed up with, making us all chuckle."she's got a k-II on her back" seth point out "wait actually" sam moved the camera to get a better look at her back whilst the guide moved her to show us her back, "yoooo" we all said in unison. "ghost doggy" i added, stroking her head.

"I gotta get y'all to sign a paper saying if you get hurt or attacked or something like that it ain't none of our fault" our tour guide, david, announced to us leading us over to some papers to sign. looked at colby in horror. confusion, fear? "oh great" he laughed sarcastically. In response, he then tried coming up to alice, but she ran away, as expected. I was certain i saw the emf reader on her back spike up to orange, but i brushed it off trying not to frighten myself before we even began investigating.

"oh, it's a little bathroom" colby announced in a sing-song voice. Turning deadpan to the camera "harry Potter lived under the stairs but i take shits under the stairs". standing in the middle of this tiny bathroom, face going red as he was mimicking you know... taking a shit.

"and make sure when y'all are coming up and down these steps tonight, that you keep your hands on the rails because somebody can push you. I do not know who does that.."

holding tightly onto the bannister, sam replied, "okay".

already making it halfway up the staircase, without anything pushing me, colby's words behind me were another great sign of comfort! not."off camera the guy told me, there is a very very high percentage of us falling through the floor at some point, so lets all not stand very close together"

"what do you mean?" whipping my head around "so like.. this whole place is gonna fall down?" "this place" he turned to me "is like over like one hundred and twenty years old". I gasped "one hundred and twenty, what!" i exclaimed. "noo, what if i get scared" i pouted "do i not get a comforting hug" i joked. "of course, of course" he played along pulling me into a hug to prove it. gosh, this is going to be a long night.

"this is mary's room" colby, our new tour guide apparently, explained as he led us into this room, "this is where she got, shot and killed" 'oooo' sam gasped 'oh my god it looks like a full-on god damn seance". the room itself was nice and spacious, with some strange chairs that did in fact look like - a seance, and another little room that peaked off to the side. colby snuck out first, so naturally, i followed behind

"what is it colbs" i questioned behind him. "honestly like, i don't know" "looks like a balcony" i hummed in response. "how do you like" looking at me as i paused, "get out? got no clue this doors locked" he finished my sentence for me motioning to the door beside me. Looking back into the bedroom to get a peak at what sam and seth were doing, i heard a small crash behind me, and then the call of my name. "y/n/n look"

turning to look, i saw him pushing on a screen that sat behind the window, and it was indeed leading to the balcony. "holy fuck colby, don't go breaking up the place" i laughed, meeting his eyes as he smiled down back at me. calling out to sam to come see what he'd found. "exploring time" colby announced, climbing through the window. with sam, who had already hit his foot on the door frame, behind him filming. sam went next complaining that it was not the right day to wear skinny jeans, and colby proclaiming he stole his line.

ducking my head as i stepped into this mystery room, a hand flew in front of me, looking up i met eyes with colby, who had outstretched his hand to help me through. obviously, i took his hand into mine, enjoying the feeling of skin to skin.. even if it was just his hand.

all of us had clamped through the little entrance and were now aiming for the other door on the other side of this tiny hallway. "wait like since this was locked we gotta be careful probably on these floors" colby made a good point, this was locked for a reason. "yeah this is probably where it's fucked" sam joined, but we kept walking anyways."we just fall through". "This is gonna get so many views" colby said laughing. "colby brock dies in a haunted mansion" sam exclaimed. chuckling, i did wonder what was happen if we fell through, but as usual, i pushed the thought to the back of my mind

"that one says no entry as well" sam pointed out as we crowded around the little door. Colby tried the door handle, and to everyone's surprise, it was open. "looks like we can enter to me" he followed with an evil laugh.Entering the small balcony, it felt like it was being supported by twigs, "this is gonna fall through" all three of us said at the same time, looking at each other laughing. "we might be the first and last to investigate this" "yeah were like, we are the first investigators to really investigate this place" he makes a movement of falling through the floor. "yeah now let's go back inside before we do actually fall and die" me, with the brains, obviously.

"who's sleeping here tonight" tour guide colby led us into yet another room, but this one had a bed "yooooo they actually have a bed" sam shouted "we could do a slumber party" "hell yeah" i agreed.

"they should just make this a hotel" a gasp came from colby making us suddenly look in his direction. "actually" he pointed a finger "i remember seeing this room online, this is Bernard's room" "oh!" "this is where he would just sit at the window every single day and just do nothing" "that's so sad" i imagine how lonely he would have been.

snapping me out of my thoughts, colby finds yet again another place we are probably not supposed to be in. an old, black wooden door the paint chipping off as it's withered over time. he slowly pulls the door open and reveals some stairs, they're painted blue and yet again look worn. They lead downwards and they turn, it's complete darkness down there, and the stairs don't feel particularly safe either-not one bit of this house does. but we proceeded to go down anyway. sam goes first, saying something about shitting? I wasn't really listening, just trying to safely get down the stairs. colby follows him with the camera, then me, then seth. somehow colby found his way to the front of the line and goes down to adventure by himself. I heard him talk about another potty but the lord knows. meanwhile, the rest of us head into this boiler-looking room.

"so i think the only basement to this place is the cellar that we saw" colby pointed out. I was now standing with my back to the stairs as we all stood talking about what this room could be. "we have to go outside the to get to the c-"

BANG!

a loud slam was heard upstairs, we all jumped. "that was right behind me" i shouted "what the fuck was that" i coward."what the fuck" "was that upstairs" "it was upstairs" seth confirmed. "keep it recording" sam pointed as he headed back up the stairs. "wait was that upstairs" colby, confused, asked "yeah bro that was the fucking door" seth replied. "no way that was not" "it was literally right behind me colby" i shouted back, trailing upstairs behind sam.

"the doors fucking closed' sam yelled out "the fucking door just closed by itself" "there's no draft up here" "holy shit" we were all talking over each other. "bernards room is the most active" colby bellowed out, scaring sam in the process. "that's what he told me" "bernard told you that?" i asked creasing my eyebrows. "no he-" cutting himself off, laughing. "bernard just shut us in the basement, he's like don't come back" sam declared. we had only been in this house for around twenty minutes and i already had a bad vibe.

the tour guide had just left us alone for the night, so it was time to start the proper investigation. we had been trying to film the story behind this house. but every time we would hear a noise coming from upstairs. colby was certain there was someone in here with us, but we searched and found... no one.

regrouping at the bottom of the staircase, we began to explain to the camera about bernard, the man's room where the door slammed. there was noise after noise after noise, there has to be someone or something here.

sending colby upstairs first, which he was more than happy to go and throw a punch at whoever was upstairs messing with us, i have to admit was hot. I lingered behind him when he took the lead, however, when we walked past the "private, do not enter" room i noticed something. the door looked like it had been... moved? shaking my head i moved on, still trailing behind him. until we both heard this... meow? why would we be hearing meows in an abandoned mansion? I looked at him and he nodded, acknowledgement to show me that he heard it too. turning around to walk back down the hallway, he pulled out his phone to film

but i stopped at that same door. the private one, the one i thought was open. "colby" i hollered down the hallway, he came running back out another room. "what, what happened" he sounded almost worried? I decided to ignore it, for now, brushing it off as a fragment of my imagination. "the door is open" i responded "the door?" he sounded equally as confused. "yeah the door, you remember the one that was locked" "how the fuck.." "i know right, i walked past it before i just thought nothing of it" he went to push it open. "wait, don't" i stopped him "sam!!" i called down to the blonde boy downstairs who was setting up our equipment

he paced up the stairs, with the camera in his hand, and i assumed it was recording. "yeah, what?" he panted out. "look the fucking door is open" i gestured. "what, how it was locked" "that's what i thought but it's open" "shall we open it?" he questioned. "yeah" colby butted in outstretching his hand again, i made no move to stop him this time letting sam film around me as we all peered around to see what was in this room

to our surprise, we were met with 7 pairs of glowing eyes. cats...?

colby jumped as one of the cats approached the door, he looked back at our group. "what the fuck' i was the first one to speak out "why is there like 18 cats in a room" i questioned, bewildered. we must have been playing with the cats for at least half an hour. them passing the cat ball back to us and seeing their little faces pop up when we stuck our phones in was such a nice little distraction from where we actually are.

but sam wanted to start the investigation soon, so we all huddled outside, deciding what equipment we each are going to use. colby got to be inside on his own with the k-II a small device that scans electromagnetic fields, measuring them with a bright LED array that moves from green to red depending on their strength. seth has the ovilus, a device which also uses its temperature and magnetic field detector to pick up words and spit them out using its built-in dictionary. and sam had to be in the cellar on his own, with a rem pod, that detects physical touch or temperature change, and a night vision camera

me on the other hand had to choose. It was between seth and colby. sam wasn't offended when i passed up the offer to come down to a scary cellar. I knew i was going to choose colby, of course, i just had to. but for the dramatics, i pretended to think.

"ok I'm going to have to choose hm... colby" "great choice" he smiled side hugging me. loaded up with a camera and a music box, that plays a tune when motion is detected in front of it, we headed inside.

"game plan" colby announced when we were situated inside. "you stay downstairs and I'll go upstairs, that good?" i nodded. his expression softened slightly, looking into my eyes "you don't have to do this y/n" he pulled me into a hug. for a millisecond i was frozen, but i came to my senses as i relaxed into him, inhaling his scent, i did feel calmer. "im ok" i muttered into his chest "ill do it" . "ok" he pulled away and held me by my shoulders "let's do this" he winked before turning around and heading upstairs

a few good minutes went by while i set up, setting up a camera on a ledge wasn't as easy as i thought. i could hear colby walking around upstairs, i assumed talking to the camera.

i set the music box down in the hallway behind me, let it calibrate, and started asking questions. nothing was really happening, i was debating about moving into a new spot, but as soon as i went to pick up the music box, a loud crash was heard from upstairs.

frozen, i called out to colby. was that him or...

"colby" i yelled up the stairs. i could faintly hear him cursing to himself, and his footsteps get closer to the stairs. turning my head towards the stairs, i met his eye. he was visibly shaken, almost pale, and sweating. "holy shit colby what happened" running over to him grabbing his arm as he stood in the middle of the room with, said arm, over his mouth and one holding the camera. i could feel him shake under my clutch. confused as to what happened i kept asking. but he didn't say anything.

"come on colbs let's go outside" dragging him by his arm, he was getting sweaty and i knew he needed some fresh air. i manoeuvred him to sit down on the stairs. sitting up one from him so i could reach his head, and hold it into my chest, trying to get him to calm down his breathing. "It's ok colbs i got you" "i got you" i kept repeating, reassuring him i was there. i kissed the top of his head, which was still resting against his chest, we must have been there for about 15 minutes before he finally sat up.

"what was that colbs what happened" he just looked at me, my eyes were pleadings for some answers. "that door"...

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby imagine #colby brock x reader #colby x reader #colby brock x y/n #colby brock imagines

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helnjk · 4 years ago

Text

Snowed In - C.W.

Charlie Weasley x fem!reader

Requested: yes! by my love @lupinsclassroom

Ah HA I finally came up with a Charlie request. Okay, of course it’s professor reader because I’m obsessed with them but like....Charlie visits hogwarts, and then (I know logistically this isn’t possible bc ✨magic✨) but he gets snowed in and has to stay in the castle for the weekend and it’s just cozy and soft 🥺

Word count: 2.6k

Summary: sometimes, it takes just the right circumstances to get what you want.

Warnings: meal mention, reference to/implied sex (blink and you’ll miss it), winter fluff!

A/N: this took me so long to get done aaaaaaaa 😩 but yay ! more COMC professor & charlie 🥰

–

Christmas at Hogwarts was always a spectacular sight. The professors always loved to go above and beyond with the decorations, but even without them, the grounds and the castle looked, well, magical.

“Professor L/N?” a voice from across the room mumbled.

Y/N looked up from the stack of papers she was grading to see Eloise Abbott, wrapped in her cloak and her Hufflepuff scarf, standing at the entrance to her office. A neatly wrapped present was clutched in her gloved hands as she waited for her professor to invite her inside.

Athena was perched on her stand behind Y/N, resting after a long afternoon of delivering various Christmas gifts. Her sleeping figure seemed to appease the student’s apprehension slightly as she called out, “Come on in, Eloise!”

“Isn’t the train supposed to be leaving soon? What’re you still doing in the castle?” Y/N questioned, stashing away the stack of parchments on her desk, that way her attention would be fully on the Hufflepuff.

“Yep!” Eloise replied quickly, “I just wanted to drop off a present for you before I go! I know that you’re staying here for the holidays, right?”

“You’re right.” Y/N smiled. “Thank you for thinking of me, Eloise, that was very sweet of you.”

A swift nod was her reply, and as quick as she had come, Ms. Abbott turned on her heel and darted out of the room. Thankfully, she remembered to yell a hasty, “Happy Christmas!” over her shoulder before she was fully out of hearing range.

Y/N shook her head with a soft smile on her lips. Even after being her professor for nearly six years now, Eloise was still a shy little thing when it came to communicating with professors or any sort of authority figure. Still, the gesture warmed her heart greatly.

The thought of gifts and spending Christmas alone, well, not exactly alone, but not with the Weasleys this year put a slight damper on her mood, though. Minerva had asked her if she could spend the holidays at Hogwarts this year since they were running short of staff who could chaperone the students. Of course, Y/N could never say no to her favorite teacher turned cool boss. It was the least she could do.

With a sigh, she stroked Athena’s soft feathers and came to the conclusion that she was too distracted to continue her grading.

Despite her attempt for some alone time, Minerva managed to stop her in the hallway.

“Ah Y/N, just the person I wanted to see,” the older professor smiled.

“Anything I can do for you, Min?” Y/N replied.

She nodded, “I need your help with a particularly odd creature in my office. It doesn’t seem to want to leave.”

The two professors briskly walked towards the Headmistress’ office side by side, their winter robes swishing around their legs. Professor L/N’s brows furrowed at the lack of concern Minerva had shown at the fact that there was a creature in her office. Of course, the older witch was highly skilled and educated, so maybe it wasn’t that big of a problem. What did she need Y/N’s help for then?

“Er, Minerva,” Y/N began as they turned a corner, “What creature exactly is in your office? Do you think we need backup?”

“I didn’t exactly get a good look at it, I just saw that it had orange-colored fur.”

“Minerva.”

The sly grin that she was met with did nothing to help the situation. Y/N simply rolled her eyes and went along with the all too obvious scheme the Headmistress had hatched up this time.

The pair said nothing else as they continued their journey to the Minerva’s office, save for the password–’panthera leo’–once they reached the gargoyle statue. Y/N’s curiosity got the better of her as they ascended the spiral staircase, especially since the older witch hadn’t stopped grinning.

“So, you’re not going to tell me what’s going on despite the fact that you’re grinning at me like a cheshire cat?” Y/N probed, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see, dear.”

The younger professor had to push down the urge to roll her eyes. Thankfully, they had reached the top of the staircase, and the words she was about to say got stuck in her throat as she saw what, or rather who, was in the office.

“Charlie?” she gasped, after pushing the door open.

Leaning against the large oak desk with his legs crossed in front of him was Charlie Weasley with a shit-eating grin. Y/N paused at the entrance to the Headmistress’ office, her eyes darting between the redhead and her boss.

“He’s the orange-furred creature that you can’t seem to get out of your office?”

Even as she spoke the words, her head couldn’t wrap around the absurdity of the situation. Charlie let out a loud laugh at her question, his eyes moving his former professor and head of house, who had just slipped past Y/N and into her office.

“I asked Minnie here to help me out some with surprising you,” he grinned cheekily.

He pushed off the desk and took a few short strides. Faster than she could comprehend, he was standing in front of her, soft eyes staring down at hers and rough hands grasping at her arms.

“Hi,” he spoke softly.

In an instant, she practically melted in his arms, “Hi Charlie.”

The sound of someone clearing their throat brought them out of their little bubble and their heads turned in Minerva’s direction.

“Alright Mr. Weasley, I helped you surprise Y/N,” she smiled knowingly, “Now off with you two! I’ve got a school to run.”

With a shout of thanks, Charlie took Y/N’s hand and practically dragged her out of the office. Biting her lip to contain her grin, she felt like she was a student again, laughing through the deserted hallways as she and her boyfriend ran towards her quarters.

There was a lot of tripping over their own feet and a lot of giggling, but she hadn’t felt this elated in a long time. Whenever Charlie would turn to look back at her, the edges of her lips would turn upwards automatically, as if he was the source of her happiness and her laughter.

Which, in a lot of ways, he was.

Y/N had never been so glad to see the castle empty. It meant that she could let her professional professor facade down and let loose without having to think too hard about the repercussions.

“So,” she started as they reached the hallway containing her room, “Care to tell me when you planned all of this?”

The sparkle of mischief and delight in Charlie’s eyes nearly made her swoon, “I can’t stay long, unfortunately. Mum’s expecting me at the Burrow tonight, but I got an early portkey so that I could see you before Christmas.”

Pushing up on her tiptoes, Y/N kissed him softly, “You’re wonderful, do you know that?”

“Careful there, love, we don’t want to boost my ego too much.”

–

“You all set?” Y/N asked, smoothing out the creases in Charlie’s scarf and trying to busy herself in an attempt to distract her mind from the thought of not spending Christmas in his arms.

With a deep sigh, he answered, “Yep, just about.”

Majority of their afternoon together was spent in bed, much to their joint amusement. In Charlie’s defense, he had come to do whatever it was that Y/N wanted, and well, that was what she ended up choosing. In hindsight, it was probably their best option anyway, since the weather outside the castle had slowly begun to worsen.

By the time they had stumbled out of the warmth of Y/N’s bed and had gotten dressed once again, it was practically dark outside due to the snowstorm that rolled in.

“It’s looking pretty rough out there,” she noted, as the pair of them walked hand in hand down the deserted hallways.

Now and then, a student staying at Hogwarts for the holidays would pass by them and try their hardest not to stare at their hot Care of Magical Creatures professor and her equally hot dragon tamer boyfriend.

Each time a student rushed past, Charlie would wait until they were out of sight before making eye contact with Y/N and smiling so big it shouldn’t have been humanly possible.

“You’re insufferable,” she grumbled after the third student they encountered disappeared around the corner.

“You love me,” he shrugged.

The bickering pair paused mid step when they heard a new set of footsteps approaching them. For the second time that day, Y/N watched as Minerva approached.

“I’m afraid your journey to the Burrow has to be put on hold, Mr. Weasley,” she spoke as she reached the pair.

“What?” Y/N and Charlie said together.

“The storm outside is much too harsh for anyone to walk past the apparition wards, even with impervious charms,” she explained.

“What about your floo, can’t he use that to get to the Burrow?”

As Y/N spoke, she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at the pang of excitement she felt at the thought of being able to spend more time with Charlie.

“Ministry’s just gotten back with word that the Floo Network is under maintenance until further notice.”

Charlie’s eyes flickered from Minerva’s solemn eyes to Y/N’s slightly confused ones, before he nodded, “Alright. Seems like I’m spending the night at Hogwarts then.”

–

Dinner that night was amusing to say the least. As most students were at home with their families, those who stayed behind all fit in the long table that was usually the Head Table. Minerva, Charlie, and Y/N tried their hardest to contain their smiles at the incredulous looks that some of the students had.

For some, it was their first time being in such close and intimate proximity to their professors. Others were wary of the attendance of the non-Hogwarts staff member, partly because he was a dragon tamer and mostly because he was Professor L/N’s boyfriend.

Y/N’s heart had melted, however, at the sight of Charlie having a chat with the younger students. She had a flashback of summers at the Burrow when his younger siblings still weren’t old enough to attend Hogwarts, and how they looked at him with wide eyes and thought everything he said was gospel.

“And then he opened his mouth so big I thought I was done for,” he spoke with such a tone that even Y/N was drawn in, “But turns out the old bugger was just going in for a yawn.”

The end of his story elicited a giggle from the youngest student at the table and Y/N was sure that her heart was positively a pile of goo.

As discreetly as she possibly could, she placed her hand on top of Charlie’s thigh and grinned cheerfully as he took the signal and placed his larger one on hers.

“Is it bad if I said that I’m glad you’re going to be here tonight?” she whispered when most of the attention wasn’t on them anymore.

“Absolutely not.” Charlie grinned and squeezed her hand. “Don’t you think the Floo being down sounds a little odd, though?”

The pair glanced at each other and then their eyes drifted towards the Headmistress. As if she could read their minds–which was entirely possible–Minerva caught their eyes and smirked from behind her goblet as she took a sip from it.

“Honestly, who knows what Minerva can come up with,” Y/N murmured, “She could tell us that there was a rogue Ministry gryffin creating potions in the dungeons and we would believe her.”

The nonchalance of her statement choked out a loud laugh from Charlie. The stilted noise coming from him as he tried to contain his amusement ended up making her giggle as well. As the group finished up with their meal, the pair of them would catch each other’s eyes once in a while and another round of trying to repress their laughs would begin.

They waited as everyone shuffled out of the Great Hall, stomachs full and eyes slightly droopy from the big meal. Their hands found each other as they walked down the chilly halls, providing a source of heat and comfort in the midst of so much cold.

Once they reached Y/N’s quarters, Charlie flopped down on the bed with a sigh, stretching out on the comforter with a groan.

Y/N couldn’t resist the urge to crawl onto the bed, tucking herself at his side. The familiar warmth of Charlie’s strong arm wrapping around her was enough for her to sigh contentedly, closing her eyes and succumbing to the gentle pull of sleep.

“Wait, wait…” she heard him mumble, feeling the words vibrate through his chest.

A groan escaped her lips as she felt him shift, pulling the both of them into a seated position.

“Can’t, ‘m comfy here,” she grumbled, refusing to open her eyes.

Instead of replying, Charlie carefully maneuvered them so that she lay back on the cold sheets and he slipped off the bed. It was silent for a few moments, save for the sound of his footsteps echoing through the room. Y/N was tempted to crack open her eyes just to see what he was up to, but the comfort posed by the bed was too strong.

She knew he would eventually come back, and he did, the bed dipping as he kneeled on the space next to her.

“Love,” he whispered, his hand brushing her cheek softly.

“What’s it?” she mumbled, finally easing her eyes open.

Beside her, sitting on the backs of his heels, Charlie held out a wrapped gift. The sight of him with a sheepish smile on his face, hands fidgeting nervously with the ribbon wrapped around the package, was enough for Y/N to sit up quickly.

“Charlie?” she asked, tentatively taking the gift from him, “What’s this?”

Her boyfriend cleared his throat before speaking, “I, erm, I was going to wait to have this delivered to you on Christmas morning but, I figured I’d rather see you open it in person.”

Y/N didn’t need any more explanation as she tore open the wrapping. An intricately designed box opened to reveal the most beautiful necklace she had ever laid her eyes on. It was fairly simple, the design, a single pearl-like object in the center of a silver chain. If it weren’t shifting through iridescent hues of pink then blue then green then purple, she would have thought it were a pearl.

Tentatively, her fingers glided over the small round thing and it was warm to the touch.

“Oh it’s gorgeous,” she breathed, her eyes flitting upwards to meet Charlie’s.

“You like it?” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I love it!” she grinned, “Will you put it on me?”

For having such large and calloused hands, Charlie was nimble and quick with the clasp of the necklace, his fingers sending shivers down her spine as he placed the necklace on her.

“It’s made out of the shell of an Antipodean Opaleye’s egg,” he explained when she turned to face him once more, “I asked a friend of mine back in Romania if he could fashion it onto a necklace. I saw the shell and thought it would look stunning on you, I was right.”

With a soft smile, Y/N’s arms snaked around his neck and she pressed a soft kiss on his lips, “It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

“Love you.”

“I love you too.”

The couple stayed in each other’s arms for a long time, relishing in the warmth and comfort of the other. When they finally managed to get dressed for bed and Y/N was tucked under Charlie’s arm for the night, their hearts were full.

“Happy Christmas, my love,” he whispered as they were lulled to sleep.

–

add yourself to my taglist!

General taglist: @expectoevans @george-fabian-weasley @gxthsanrio @slytherinscribbles @harpyloon @nuttytani @mesmerisedangel @amourtentiaa @sarcasticallywitty15 @lumos-barnes @cruciostyles @writingsomewrongs

Charlie taglist: @pinkypurplemagic @lifeofkaze @oldschoolkiddo @turtletaylor98 @id-kill-to-be-an-assassin

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley imagines #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley fics #charlie weasley fic #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley x y/n #tw meal mention #tw implied sex

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starglow-xx · 4 years ago

Text

owning a bakery and being discovered by the ada and the port mafia (part 3)

platonic! yosano akiko x f! reader

type of writing: head canons !!

this is part of my head canon series, flour & fluff !!

tag list is open !! go to this google form and fill it out to sign up!

series synopsis: owning a bakery at 20 is tough; even more so when you have to handle members of two opposing organizations! this is your journey to meeting those fools and creating an unlikely bond with each of them. but only at the cost of your peace and sanity.

fandom: bungou stray dogs

content: fluff & platonic stuff but trigger warning!! there may be a sensitive topic for others

*getting grabbed and pulled to an alleyway! alcohol mentioned!*

please remember that yokohama isn’t the friendliest place, especially at night.

previous: part 2 : their beloved president

author’s note: same ages as last time!! (so that means everyone is one year younger than canon; that makes yosano 24)

this one is actually pretty long :0

i got info abt her likes on her wiki page (careful! there’s spoilers!)

and yosano is a queen and no one can tell me otherwise

the doctor is in the house (quite literally)

going grocery shopping was an okay chore in your opinion

it honestly depended on your mood or whatever kind of shit happens when you go shopping

cause like something always, always happens whenever you go do groceries

sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s bad, and sometimes it’s just plain weird

one time some weirdo proposed to you in the middle of the store asking for a double suicide

he was good looking you’d admit but it’s not like you’d ever see him again

or so you thought

a n y w a y s

every so often, you’d run out of real person food in your apartment

you mostly survive off all of the leftover bakery treats and ingredients—which works out pretty well actually—but bakery supplies unfortunately also run out quite often

and also unfortunately, one time when both fukuzawa & ranpo took a visit to Sakura’s, fukuzawa argued that “no you can’t live off sweets for the rest of your life”

ranpo was scandalized and scrambled to cover your ears

you guys were at it for a while

in the end you sided with fukuzawa causing ranpo to go off about “betrayal from the people he cared most abt” or smth like that

you guys were okay again after bribing him with sweets :)

for bakery supplies you usually have them delivered bc you order them in large quantities bc ahaha no way were you gonna carry like 15-20 50 pound bags of flour no way

when days like those happen, you close up the bakery early so you aren’t walking home when it’s too dark

you scheduled it to happen every first saturday of the month

on those saturdays, you close at 5 instead of at 8

currently, you were at the grocery store looking for basic cooking ingredients such as proteins, vegetables, fruits, and most importantly, snacks

ranpo’s been rubbing off on you

the sun was starting to set and you were walking home with your two bags of groceries when shit went down

tbh you were kinda expecting it cause your grocery run was peaceful for once

but what you weren’t expecting was a wack-a-do to appear out of goddamn nowhere right when you were opening the side door to get to the staircase up to your apartment

like honestly

let a woman do her own thing

the man who grabbed you tried to covered your mouth so you couldn’t scream but you didn’t exactly make it easy for him

you kicked and thrashed around even using the grocery bags—that were somehow still in your hand—as a weapon and the man struggled but he was still bigger than you and was able to bring you to a nearby alley

he reeked of alcohol and you spotted a wedding band on his left hand

not that you cared about the detail in the moment

you kicked him in the groin and in response he let you go only to fall on broken glass that was in the alley way

using the wall to help yourself up, you grabbed a nearby wooden stick and struck him right on his back

your attacker fell and you immediately turned on your heels to escape only to fall back down on the hard cold ground once again

you lift your face up and look back to see the man holding onto your ankle

grabbing a shard of glass—cutting yourself in the process— you begin to swing it at him only for him to easily grip your wrist and stop you

you get ready try and kick him in the groin again but you’re interrupted as your attacker gets sucker punched and flies to wall

you look up to see your savior and you’re blessed to see a beautiful woman, probably not that much older than you are—she’s probably around ranpo’s age— donning a white long sleeve button up, a matching black necktie, knee length skirt, and gloves, along with tights, red heels, and a pretty butterfly clip in her short black hair

but what you really notice is her eyes

ranpo’s eyes were pretty but you like hers just a bit more

you’ve always liked the color magenta

the pretty lady holds out her hand and you take it graciously and thank her as she helps you up

as that’s happening, your attacker gets himself onto his feet and his groan catches both of your attention

he struggles to stand and the pretty lady simples saunters over to him and delivers an uppercut knocking him out cold

you’re stunned and you breathe out a “thank you” making her turn towards you

she notices the condition you’re in

bleeding scrapes on your hands, arms and legs, small rips in your clothes like your tights, blouse, and skirt, and the ruffled state of your hair and clothing

she asks if you live nearby and you tell her that you own the bakery that’s one or two buildings away

when you tell her that, it clicks in her mind that you must be the bakery girl ranpo’s been talking about and the friend fukuzawa was cat sitting for

it’s been abt two weeks since ranpo and fukuzawa first met you and since then, they’ve seen lucky in the office plenty and the boxes of your signature sweets even more

if those two trust you, she has no reason not to

she smiles at you, holds out her hand for you to shake, and introduces herself as the doctor of the armed detective agency

your eyes widen and you smile back at her shaking her hand

“ah! you must be yosano-sensei then! ranpo-san and fukuzawa-san have talked about you! it’s so nice to meet you! im (l/n) (y/n)!”

“they’ve talked about you too, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you (y/n)”

after that exchange she insisted on bringing you home to treat you wounds which you told her it wasn’t necessary

she gave you a pointed look and that was when you realized what state you were in

you sighed and weakly gave in to which she only grinned at

before leaving the alley she walks over to the unconscious man and pulls out his wallet for some sort of identification and home address as you try to see if there’s any groceries still salvageable

after texting the details to kunikida, yosano turns to you poking around the now ruined grocery bags

she simply rubs your back and tells you that the both of you could go buy more groceries together as she was meaning to get some anyways; she even said she’ll pay for you

you refused obviously but she, unknowingly, used the same tactic fukuzawa used with you

“so you’re saying you don’t need groceries?”

“...”

*cue an eyebrow raise from our resident queen*

“...you agency members don’t like making things easy for me huh.”

you gave in reluctantly and at this point you don’t even know why you try negotiating with them

and that’s only three of them

apparently, she was on the other side of the street on the way to buy groceries for the agency when she noticed different produce items on the other sidewalk leading to the alley and she went to check out what happened

ironically, the way to the grocery store from the agency makes you go past Sakura’s but she didn’t realize it until after the two of you had met

before you know it, the two of you are in your apartment kitchen as she cleans and patches up all of your wounds

as she does so the two of you have a little girl talk

you find it quite comforting bc since you opened up Sakura’s you haven’t really had the chance to connect to many people much less other women

you definitely see yosano as your cool, loving, badass older sister

she thinks you’re adorable and agrees with ranpo’s opinion

yup

that’s right

the opinion that you’re like a little kid </3

you called it a betrayal and all she did was laugh at you <//3

“awhh that’s really cool yosano-sensei!—MFPH?!?”

*squishing your cheeks the same way ranpo did* “ranpo-san was right (n/n)-chan, your cheeks are squishy!”

“?!”

after that small fiasco, the two of you talked some more and bonded over your love for flowers, japanese sweets, and much more!!

you even made a date to have a girls day to go shopping and eat out!

you’re internally squealing a bit bc it’s been a while since you’ve gone shopping

yosano notices and she giggles behind her hand not saying anything bc she knows you’ll only throw a fit

the two of you came around the topic of ranpo when lucky passed by

lucky quickly warmed up to the doctor and cozied up in her lap

“i wish ranpo-san was able to meet lucky when he came by the first time, but then again, he’d probably throw a tantrum if i don’t pay attention to him for 5 seconds”

she snorted at that and like fukuzawa, she shared stories abt the slightly older male

“ranpo-san doesn’t know how to ride a train?”

“unbelievable right?”

“for someone so intelligent i expected more from him”

“i’ll be telling that to ranpo-san, (n/n)-chan”

“wha—?! yosano-sensei please don’t!”

like ranpo, she’s also a tease </3

but you love her anyway <3

eventually, she finished patching you up and promised to treat you to a new set of clothes when the two of you go out

“you don’t need to lose a good set of clothes just because of a sleazy man (n/n)-chan! you deserve better!”

you were going to argue that the rips in your clothes were fairly small and could easily be fixed—except the tights—but you stopped in your tracks when you remembered that it was practically useless to argue against an ada member

the two of you walked to the grocery store and bought both of your needed supplies—along with some extra goodies—and then she walked you back to your place bc it was already a bit dark out

but even if it wasn’t, she would walk you anyways

besides, if anything happened to you, she’s 1000% positive that ranpo and fukuzawa are gonna flip the fuck out not that she wont cause she most definitely will

speaking of which

you were drinking a bottle of water as the two of made your way back to Sakura’s when all of a sudden

“(y/n) you do realize that i have to tell shachou and ranpo-san about what happened today right?”

you choked on your water

“yosano-sensei you can’t! if you do they’ll freak! they won’t leave me alone for at least two weeks! one if im lucky!”

“exactly the point”

you just accepted your defeat already knowing that you’d lose

but maybe you can simmer down their anger towards the bastard with sweets and lucky

you arrived at Sakura’s shortly after and after bringing groceries in, you packaged a bunch of pastries leftover from today—bc you closed early—and bc you’re well aware that ranpo doesn’t share any of the sweets you send him with

you even gave yosano her own special box filled with goodies she loves, and a thermos of fukuzawa’s favorite, your special hot honey lemon tea

other than the sweets, you prepared lucky to spend the night at fukuzawa’s

you really really hoped that doing these things would make them calm down

you shivered at the thought of what their responses would be

you felt really bad for giving yosano all these things to carry and that you were keeping her very late

she assured you that she was fine and that if someone tried to mess with her she’d kick their ass

and after exchanging numbers, the magenta eyed queen bid you a good night and walked back to the agency with lucky walking by her heels

arriving back at the agency, yosano was greeted with some concerns asking if she was alright bc she came back from her grocery run pretty late

(she usually goes in the mornings but today was pretty busy so she left in the late afternoon but now it was already dark)

she waved off the concerns and plopped a couple boxes of your signature bakery boxes at ranpo’s desk, the one for her at her own, the last few boxes in the kitchen for any other agent or clerk to grab, placed the thermos on the desk fukuzawa was by, and picked up lucky and handed him to the president

the two males were pleased with what yosano had brought them, and pleased that another agency member had the chance to meet you

fukuzawa was rubbing lucky and ranpo already snacking on treats as yosano expected

but here comes the hard part

or maybe it’s gonna amusing who knows

“i met (y/n) today.”

“we could tell.”

in goes another treat in the green eyed man’s mouth

“would you like to know how?”

“you bumped into each other, had girl talk, made plans to go out, went grocery shopping, and you brought me and shachou presents.”

“great job ranpo-san, you’re almost completely correct.”

this caught the attention of basically everyone bc they knew ranpo was never “almost completely correct”

“we ended up meeting bc she got attacked on her way home from grocery shopping, i treated her wounds, then we had girl talk and did all the other stuff”

ranpo and fukuzawa froze right in their tracks

“i sent all the info of the bastard to kunikida”

“kunikida.”

“yes shachou”

“find out everything about that man and bring it to me and ranpo”

“...yes shachou”

“and yosano”

“yes?”

“text (y/n) and tell her that her cat, tea, and pastries aren’t going to work as a bribe”

just as you finished taking a shower you sneezed

<<previous // next >>

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taglist: @hanniejji @timeless-tales46 @realitycanbeajerk (i didn’t know if you wanted to be in the tag list or not but i tried anyway :)

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silenthillmutual · 3 years ago

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hey for the prompts thing, maybe artemy's children and daniil? Also if you wanna stretch your utopian characters writing muscles, something with peter and grace(artemy helping him parent her, since the man was ready to feed her worms)? eva and daniil in the friendship way?? idk, something of that sort. I love your work, you have a delightful grasp of the characters and the english language itself

this isn't my best bc i've just been practicing writing to keep that skill strong, but i decided to do a little of all three :)

-----

“Please, Eva, you have to help me.”

Eva tilts her head at Daniil, her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulder. Daniil knows she’s not that dense; it’s not the with what question, but the why. “Really, Daniil. I think you have a handle on things as it is.”

He absolutely does not have a handle on things. He is in way out of his depth. Over his head. However the saying goes - what’s been expected is far beyond him. Cats, he can watch over easily. They’re mostly self-sufficient, independent, but children? Daniil does not know the first thing about children.

“Humor me, then,” he says. Eva ducks her head, struggling to hide a smile. “Pretend for a moment that I don’t have a handle on things. How am I meant to keep children entertained?”

“Ah, I would think you would remember what it was like to be a child!” Daniil only scowls at the floor, shuffling his feet. “You remember how you wanted to be treated, don’t you? It’s not that different from now. You treat them with respect.”

“I know how to talk to children,” he says, and hopes he isn’t lying, “but how do I keep them entertained?”

“It’s only for a few hours. I think you’re worrying over nothing.” Daniil looks over his shoulder. They’re already seated at Eva’s piano, fingers toying with the keys. Every once in a while they will make contact, a soft plonk as a flat note plays in the open space, accompanied by a giggle. “Besides, Artemy left you in charge, not me. He trusts you.”

“He trusts everyone.” It sounds like more of a complaint than it’s really meant. The haruspex’s undying faith in others is admirable, really. Burakh’s favor is probably the only thing that’s kept the town’s inhabitants from running Daniil out into the steppe. But in this one occasion, that faith seems misplaced. “I should have said no.”

“So why didn’t you?”

Daniil has no answer. Or at least, he has no good answer. Judging by the smile creeping its way onto her face, Eva knows the only one he has. He tries to fan away her concern, and is met with her soft laughter, like the tinkling of glass. “Anyway, I’d feel much safer if you were here to help me.”

“Safer? Daniil, they’re just kids. You’ve done much more dangerous things in the time you’ve been here.” Daniil purses his lips, and Eva sighs. “I’ll help you, on one condition!”

“Name it.”

“Yulia.” Eva huffs, fiddling with her gloves. “I’ve invited her over to dinner, but she hasn’t sent her response. I think she’s nervous about seeing the Stamatins again - tell her they won’t be coming if it makes her so upset! Whatever you have to say, just make sure she agrees. I’ve been dying to see her.”

Much as he’d rather not get involved in anyone else’s affairs, he is sort of desperate here. Yulia can be difficult to convince when her mind is made up on something - impossible, even, he’d say - but he knows how fond the two women are of each other, and maybe his assurance that Andrey will be otherwise occupied will be enough. And really, all he has to do is try. “Fine,” he says, and Eva squeezes his arm in excitement before turning to the kids in the sitting room.

“I see you’ve found the piano. Would you like me to teach you a few scales?”

When Artemy agreed to help Peter prepare for Grace’s visit, he had no idea what it was he was signing up for. He’d thought an hour or so - enough time to leave his kids with Daniil and see how they fared together without overwhelming the other man. But it’s been two and a half hours now, and Peter doesn’t seem to be any closer to grasping the basics.

“You need milk, Peter. And eggs. Basic food items.” He stops just short of asking if the man is even aware of what constitutes food. He can’t be certain that the man even eats. He’s malnourished for someone of his height, and from what Artemy can tell his main consumption is twyrine. And that won’t be good for poor Grace.

That’s the main reason Artemy’s stayed so long. He wants to get back to his kids, to spend time with Daniil before the man returns to his work, but he worries about how Grace will fare here when Peter can’t seem to grasp the importance of a clean cooking surface and fresh ingredients. “Forgive me, old boy. It’s been so long since I have sought these things out for myself.”

Artemy tries not to groan. That’s about what he’d figured, and it’s not exactly what he’d call promising.

At least the apartment is looking marginally nicer. There’s space enough for them to walk around in, the empty bottles of twyrine have been discarded and the couch has been cleared of its debris. It’s not much, but it’s a start, and Artemy can appreciate how difficult even this was for the architect.

But it’s still not quite enough. Grace will be over within the hour, and Artemy’s not sure how much more help he can be to the man.

Before he can suggest they hold Grace’s visit off another day, a knock comes at the door and the girl herself enters. She doesn’t look quite sure of herself, her fists curled tight around the fabric of her dress, her eyes cast down; but she enters all the same, and stands just outside the door, waiting.

Artemy is the first to address her. “Grace.” He nudges Peter with his foot under the table. “It’s good to see you.”

Peter looks at Artemy, solemn, and follows his lead. “Welcome, girl.” There’s an awkward pause, and Artemy kicks his shin again. Peter stares at the table. “Come in from the door. There’s room for you by the couch.”

Grace smiles shyly and tucks her hands behind her back as she enters. Her eyes widen, taking in the apartment as if seeing it for the first time. And since Peter doesn’t seem to clean regularly, she very well could be.

“What happened to your paintings?” she asks, her voice quiet.

“I’ve moved them.” Artemy is preparing himself to nudge Peter once again, but this is something he’s more well-acquainted with. He’s slow to stand, one hand on the table to steady himself, and makes his way to what passes for a bedspace in this loft. Artemy watches from the table, chewing his lip, as Peter presents a painting to her.

At least it’s one of the more appropriate ones, though there’s something frightening about the splashes of paint. He’s no art critic, and he won’t pretend to understand, but there’s something very angry about this painting. Artemy wonders how obvious it is to Grace, who hasn’t seen much outside of the graveyard. He can’t imagine there’s much experimental art in the Saburov’s house.

A sudden pang hits him, watching the two interact. He may be frustrated with Peter, but it’s obvious the man is trying his hardest. It’s just been too long since he’s even taken care of himself, that of course it will take a while before he’s able to take care of another person. And Grace has such different needs that Artemy’s unsure the Saburovs will be able to meet. The way they talk to each other, he can sense an understanding between them, even when they’re not talking about exactly the same thing.

He’s going to wind up regretting this, for sure. He didn’t mean to leave his kids with Daniil for so long, but he can’t just give up here.

“It’s about time for lunch,” Artemy says. The two turn to look at him with matching looks of surprise. “Why don’t I show you how to cook something?”

Artemy dropped his children off around ten. Daniil expected him back around noon. He doesn’t mind making food for the children, except - well, he’s not the one doing it. Eva caught him attempting to make some excuses to head into the kitchen and beat him to it. “Don’t worry about it,” she said, with a look in her eyes Daniil found almost threatening, “I can handle it. You stay in here and get acquainted.”

“We’re already acquainted,” Daniil pointed out, but it didn’t matter much. Eva was determined to ignore him, making her way out of the room and leaving Daniil with two bored kids.

Murky had moved on from the piano some time ago, laying on the floor with charcoals and sketch paper Peter had left out the last time he’d come to visit. She didn’t ask for permission, but if Eva wasn’t going to tell her off then neither was Daniil. He can’t imagine Peter minding much or even remembering he’d brought the items with him, and as long as it’s keeping the girl occupied Daniil doesn’t have it in him to complain. Sticky, on the other hand, has taken to snooping around the house.

“Looking for something?” Daniil asks, watching him open up an end table drawer.

Sticky shrugs. “Not particularly.” He closes the drawer with a little more force than necessary and turns his gaze to the staircase, his eyebrows near to his hairline. “What’s up there?”

“My room.”

“Can I see it?” The sudden excitement catches him off guard. Daniil fiddles with his gloves. “You have a microscope, right? I’ve never used one. I know Rubin has one, but he won’t let me see it. Do you have slides? Can you show me something? Can you show me blood?”

“One question at a time,” Daniil says, huffing with amusement. Maybe this isn’t so bad. I was the same at his age. “I suppose you can come upstairs and see it, yes. I do have a few clean slides, yes, but I don’t have any samples lying around. I suppose I can come up with something, but…” he turns to look at Murky.

“She’ll be fine,” Sticky assures him. “It’s not like we’re going far, right?” He turns to his sister. “Murky, we’re going upstairs.”

She pauses in her drawing, looking at Sticky before her eyes turn away. “Do I have to come with you?”

“I don’t suppose you have to, no,” Daniil answers. “But if you need anything, you can come up and get us, alright, dear?” She doesn’t seem all that comfortable with the term, her mouth turning into a little scowl. She doesn’t answer, either, going back to her drawing as if no interruption had occurred.

Daniil leads Sticky up the stairs, listening to his babbling about the things he’s managed to glean from listening to Artemy and attempting to follow in his footsteps, from his discussions with Rubin when the man’s come to visit. Once they’re upstairs, he wanders around the room, picking up Daniil’s books and looking at them carefully, trying to pronounce the words aloud to himself. Daniil takes his distraction as a time to prick himself for a blood sample, readying the slide and pulling the chair back out from the table.

He clears his throat, and Sticky spins around, nearly dropping the heavy tome in his hands. “You wanted to see a blood sample, yes?” Sticky nods, scrambling his way over to the desk. Daniil has to guide him in how to use the microscope, in how to get a clearer picture of what he’s looking at. And Sticky has plenty of questions for him about what he sees, about how blood works in the body, about cells and warmth and movement.

As he’s speaking, Daniil simply forgets to be nervous. It’s not all that different to lectures - and to have someone honestly listening to him is actually quite nice. He’s so engrossed in directing Sticky that he doesn’t notice when Murky joins them. When she speaks, it startles him. “Why do you have a bunch of grass in a jar?” Sticky stifles a laugh as Daniil nearly jumps, moving around to the bookshelf where Murky is on her toes, peering at a glass jar. “They’re not even the right herbs. You can’t make anything out of that.”

“It’s not all grass. Take a closer look.” Daniil takes the jar off the shelf and holds it out for her to better see it. He watches her squint, and directs his finger about halfway up the jar. “Do you see the eyes here? This is a conehead grasshopper.”

Her eyes widen. “You keep a bug in a jar?”

“Well, I’d like to get a terrarium eventually, but you don’t seem to have any in town. I’d have to order one from the Capital.” He pauses. People usually find his collection of insects strange, but Murky seems fascinated. “I have books on insects, if you would like to…” Can she read? “Take a look?” Murky nods, and Daniil takes the jar back, looking through the bookshelf for the guide he’d brought with him.

Sticky’s not particularly interested in the bugs, but he entertains himself looking through Daniil’s medical textbooks while Daniil reads passages off of the insects Murky points to. When Eva comes to get them for lunch, he has to agree to bring the book downstairs with him to get her to go.

“Dad won’t let me keep bugs,” she mumbles around her food. “Says they don’t belong in the house.”

“My mother felt the same,” Daniil tells her. It feels strange to admit it, when it’s been so long since he’s spoken of his parents to anybody. Murky turns the pages of his field guide very carefully, silent as Sticky speaks up to ask him more questions about blood flow and circulation.

Now that he’s found ways of connecting with the kids, communication isn’t nearly as difficult as he’d thought it would be. He feels a little silly for winding himself up the way he had this morning - and these are Artemy’s kids, why had he imagined they’d be such a handful? Sure, they’re precocious, but not any worse than the other children in town.

They’ve just made their way back into the main room when the door to the Stillwater opens and Artemy appears. He looks exhausted, and Daniil can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. He knows what dealing with the Stamatins can be like, especially given how poorly Peter takes care of himself. He can’t begin to imagine what took Artemy so long, but things must have been pretty bad if it took him such a long time.

Artemy offers Daniil a small smile. “Thanks for looking after them, emshen.”

“It was my pleasure,” Daniil says, and he finds that for once it’s not simply a nicety. “They’re wonderful children, Artemy. Clearly you’re doing a fantastic job in raising them.”

“Truth be told, they raised themselves.” His smile is fond, turning from Daniil to his kids. “You guys ready to go?”

Murky looks up from her drawing - a new one, an attempt to freehand an illustration of a phasmid from Daniil’s field guide. She still has a slight frown on her face as she looks up at her father. “Now? Bachelor was going to show me how to catch insects with a net,” she tells him.

Artemy looks back at Daniil with some surprise on his face. Daniil can feel himself flushing as he tries to look anywhere but at Artemy. “Why don’t you come another day, Murky? It’ll give me time to get a second net.”

“I’ll be ready to go in a minute,” Sticky pipes up. “I just gotta finish -”

“Oh, you can borrow the book,” Daniil says, waving his hand. “Don’t mind the markings I left in it from school. And if you have any questions, well - you know where to find me.”

#icarus.docx #icarus.txt #pathologic

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yandere-daydreams · 5 years ago

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Scaredy cat darling. Like sure their Yan just kidnapped them, but they can’t stand the monotony of the windowless, unlit basement even more. They swear they can see ghosts and hear screams if they’re stuck in there too long, so they just cling to their Yan whenever they can and probably beg to sleep in the same bed as them bc its too scary in the basement and they heard a creak downstairs so they’re like “you said you love me so pls don’t make me sleep in a different room alone 🥺😭”.

I thought I’d use this blog’s resident Protective for this one, if only because he’s got so much practice ignoring his Darlings’ feelings in favor of pushing his own, weird thought pattern. It’s an art, honestly, even for Bakugo.

TW: Kidnapping, Scotophobia, Mentions of Injury and Implied Emotional Manipulation.

The light-switch was on the other side of the basement door.

It was a thought that haunted you, mocked you, called to you day and night, although it was louder in the latter than the former. You’d had three months to measure every statistic of your misery, from the six centimeters of solid wood that separated you from the ground floor to the fourteen steps you had to climb to get there to the arm’s length you’d have to reach to get to that little, infernal panel, as tall as your hand and painted in the same washed-out white as the rest of Katsuki’s home. Your collar only let you get halfway up the staircase before the shocks started, but you could make it to the top before the pain knocked you out. You’d have a couple bruises when you woke up in the morning, if you were lucky, and a new fracture if you weren’t. You usually weren’t.

When Katsuki found out, he’d threaten to increase the voltage. He always did, but he never would.

He knew you’d do it again, and you never failed to disappoint.

Even now, he was still scowling as he wrapped fresh gauze around your ankle, the skin discolored and sore to the touch. It might’ve been broken, but Katsuki didn’t seem to have any investment in seeing the wound fully healed, not when he was more than happy to smirk and gloat and watch you try to find a way to get around without asking for his help. You wondered if he enjoyed it, watching you hurt yourself, knowing he could guiltlessly claim to be blameless. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities. From the way he glared, you’d guess he hated you. He tried to deny it, but he was never very convincing. Or, you knew him too well to be convinced, at least.

His thumb pushed against the base of your ankle, pushing against one of the worst spots. You cringed, and Katsuki chuckled, still grinning as he leaned forward to kiss your knee apologetically.

Yeah, he hated you. You didn’t know why you’d ever thought otherwise.

He sighed as he pushed himself to his feet, wiping his hands on his tank-top like you were some infectious, contagious disease he was too high and mighty to catch. Like you’d crawled into his basement willingly, and needed to be treated like an unwanted pest before you’d leave. “You’re going to bed,” He announced, unprompted. “It’s late, and brats don’t get to stay up. I don’t want to hear you whine about it, tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes, dropping your focus to the ground. “If you didn’t want to hear me whine, you wouldn’t keep me in a crawlspace. I’m going to complain until I can get a real room.” You paused, your eyes widening, faux-surprise spreading across your expression. “Or better yet, you could let me go! You’ll never have to hear my whining again.”

“Or better yet, you could shut the fuck up,” He growled, the words forced through grit teeth. His fists were balled at his sides, now, his back straightened, bringing Katsuki to his full height, letting his tower over you like the all-powerful guardian he thought he was. “You’ve got everything you need, down here. I could’ve stuck you with a cot and called it a day, but I was nice enough to give you all the shit I’d want - hell, I drag down every other fuckin’ thing you ask for. ‘Real rooms’ are for people who know when to stop tryin’ to break their own necks.”

“I don’t want to hurt myself.” You hate how you sound, childish and immature, like you were the one who needed to be reasoned with. You lock your jaw into place as you go on, thin sheets soon balled in your hands, your anger manifesting before your frustration could. “If you just left the lights on, I wouldn’t--”

“It’s bad for you,” Katsuki interrupted, cutting you off without hesitation. “Messes with your head. I’m not leaving ‘em on.” He paused, tilting his head to the side. His tone softened, but the change was almost unnoticeable. You doubted anyone else would notice. “You scared of the dark, angel?”

You tried to speak, to deny it, but your voice hitched in your throat. You were, you knew you were, but that didn’t get rid of the heat quickly rising to your cheeks, or the nagging, persisting feeling that you were getting smaller, that everything else was getting too big to comprehend. It was a phobia more fit for a child, a kid. An adult shouldn’t get shake when the sun goes down, or dread the moment their captor leaves more than when he comes back brandishing a new ‘necessary precaution’. It’d just give Katsuki another reason to degrade you. That’s all it ever did. “I’m not,” You mumbled, half-heartedly. “I don’t like it. That’s all.”

Katsuki hummed in affirmation, accepting your answer without an argument. He turned on his heel without warning, starting towards the stairs, the basement’s door, the light-switch you couldn’t reach and never would. He’d barely taken a step before you were no longer in a well-lit, furnished room, no, god no. Suddenly, you were scared and alone, balled up in the closest corner and trying desperately not to look at the room around you, not to acknowledge the consuming nothingness around you. That’s what it was, really, nothingness. Emptiness. A space where no one was around and everyone was watching you. A state you’d be stuck in until Katsuki decided you deserved to come out. The kind that would bleed at the corners and make you think of awful things, terrible things, worse than Katsuki could ever inflict. You’d be trapped in that cold, suffocating captivity until someone came to let you out, and even then, you’d barely have half the day before you were thrown back into it, tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that and always, if you couldn’t find your way out. It was torture.

It was hell.

Pure, utter hell.

You didn’t think, lashing out and grabbing Katsuki’s wrist, clinging to it as he glanced over his shoulder. You didn’t waste time, swallowing your pride and focusing on his bicep as you spoke. “You can leave them off. I just… I can’t - Let me sleep in your room. Please, Bakugo, I can’t stand another night…” You trailed off, gesturing vaguely to the room around you. “I can’t stand another night like this. You said you cared about me, so don’t put me through it.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he jerked you off your bed, letting you cry out and try to catch yourself before he leaned down, wrapping an arm under your thighs and pulling you into his chest, letting you settle into the dip of his shoulder. His free hand came up, fussing with the sleek, metallic collar around your neck, but you didn’t struggle, didn’t fight. You didn’t want to, now, not as the door to that fucking room closed behind you. Hopefully, it’d be a long, long time before you had to open it again. The thought made you smile, an optimistic, irrational eagerness coming over you. Bright and giddy, even when you knew it was only a small victory.

You were so wrapped up in the feeling, you didn’t even notice the small smile beginning to pull at Katsuki’s lips, as repressed as your own, but not nearly as hopeful. Not cruel, either, simply proud.

As if he was watching the plan he’d spent so much time executing come to fruition.

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sundrenched-smilez · 4 years ago

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Blue, Prussian azure, and yellow green

blue; what’s the most recent dream you remember?

tbh i’ve been sleeping on this one (heehoo) bc the last dream i can remember is rly complex??? nd im bad w putting things in chronological order

basically there was this massive stone town that was like flooded nd we ended up draining it? there was a section where we were in like a pirate ship that was a bar, and i got in trouble for some reason, nd they were trying 2 kill me, BUT i like ratted the 2 agents after me and kicked them out of the bar, so i was left off the hook

but also a team of a bunch of ppl including like, jester from crit role, sephiroth, cloud, some cats and gerbils??, etc. were on this massive boat 2 try and escape the town, and i (sephiroth) accidentally sliced the ship w my stupid long sword bc i had all these upgrades on it that made it longer, so it was like several yards, and it was like trying 2 flip a steel beam in a .5 bathroom,,, essentially, so i switched to cloud’s sword, which is more thick than stupid long, and it was fine, and we ended up avoiding the lava that was like, trying 2 flow up and swallow us

doing this and launching the boat down a massive slide building/structure is what allowed us 2 drain the rest of the town; everything underwater was like, rly old weathered garden stone, like the kind in animal crossing that has moss on it

i specifically remember this one rly lovely building that was like whitish color, w all these purple n blue vases w flowers out front, and a blue trim nd dark blue roof tiling? some of the details r escaping me, but it was rly colorful, and i loved how inviting it was

as reward for stopping the ship/flooding junk, we got to choose some weapon/general upgrades, and like jester got this thing that let her tell the future, and she was bein rly cute on a staircase, nd like holding it up to the ceiling to look thru it like a marble

u had 2 use smth that resembled the trading machines in the og pokemon anime, to upgrade weapons. like there were these Shelves with divots for u to place the item (it dropped as like a statue w horns) and then you’d put gems underneath it that would feed into it, to improve it

a lot of neat stuff was going on but it’s been several nights nd i’m not remembering all of it clearly/there was a Lot going on

prussian azure; what’s your favorite scent?

strawberry pretzel bar is my fav candle!!!! i also rly love the smell of baking stuff from the oven, bonfire smoke (not the smoke itself, but like, the smell of when you’ve Been to a bonfire), socks’s shampoo, soil, nd old fabric

yellow green; picture yourself walking in a field. what do you see & hear in this scenario?

i see myself in a big floppy sunhat, watching the clouds float by on a breeze that ruffles my hair like a loved one, and makes my clothes billow, the grass flow like waves. i’m with my lovers, and we’re walking off a big warm meal that was rly filling and satisfying, and I can’t get the smile off my face, but i’m not exactly trying to either.

said breeze takes the edge off the hot day, but i don’t rly mind the sun dancing on my skin, even if i am a little hot or sweaty from it, it’s worth being out in nature and spending time w my loved ones,

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patchdotexe · 4 years ago

Text

explorers of arvus: heading back / 3.11.21

zoom and enhonse

LAST TIME ON ARVUS taure passed out and we are now down a healer! also we met a disciple of halvkar, and surprisingly did not murder her. this is fine. we have instantly gotten distracted by our various carts. cats. our various cats

DID ANY OF US CATCH TAURE, SHE FELL OVER sieron tried to catch her and smacked charlie+thorne in the face (he rolled a nat1, f) BUT the catboy is to the rescue bc silje is the designated Not Incompetent of the group today

CONSULT THE CHILD hewwo yrel yrel: her mind is being consumed by the serpent of nightmares. :D charlie: HELLO?????//

so, dendar(?) the night serpent is imprisoned beneath arvus! she was formed from the nightmares of the first sentient being, and sometimes she eats people's nightmares. if she's exceptionally hungry, she'll force nightmares onto people for her to feed off their fear. yrel thinks taure will Probably wake up. there's a thing on arvus mentioned by the locals called a "sleeping sickness" where people will fall asleep for a few days, sometimes longer, but will wake up. its magical in cause, the people afflicted by it have horrific nightmares, and its just kinda. a thing. wowza

(i have gone back to spelling yrel's name as yrel bc i think it looks nice)

OH HEY SOMEONE POSTED A THEORY ON ONE OF MY STICKMOLUS ANIMATIONS man i should get back to stickmolus sometime. once dsmp releases its awful grip on me.

i keep getting distracted by seeing myself in the camera preview. i have a tooth gap! what the fuck its cute?? K I KNOW WE'RE SUPER BLURRY IN FRONT RN BUT PLEASE HELP ME STAY FOCUSED I SWEAR -leo

we're gonna build a sled! to put taure on. thorne: i have a good strength score. ....i say, out loud charlie: i am four feet tall. [cue argument between thorne & sieron about them both being horcs but sieron has a +0 bc strength is his dump stat] OH, OKAY, THORNE ROLLED A NAT20 TO CARRY TAURE. NICE

[discussion about what to tell everyone at camp vengenace] thorne: the last thing we need to do is a witch hunt charlie: --and we already hunted the witch! the witch has been hunted.

time to discuss strategy! we need to figure out how to head back to camp vengeance, eg if we want to follow the path we already took or if we wanna do some trailblazing. looks like we're gonna try and take the most direct path! which means we'll prolly risk tangoing with some undead but im willing to risk it TINY HUT STAIRCASE sorry i just remember it now and then

nyx: [meowing at his cats] thorne: uh... why is silje meowing? jorb: silje's food bowl is empty jorb: you look at silje's food bowl and there's a divot in the middle and the food is all on the sides emotionally, we must bully the catboy silje saw something interesting and started meowing

thorne: ill take first watch silje: ill also take first watch. charlie: [quietly] gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy (but, like, extended for 15 seconds)

silje: [takes watch] [rolls a nat1 and gets distracted by looking at his crush]

THORNE HAS LOCATED A DOG the dog does not give a shit about the tiny hut. THE DOG HAS PEED ON THE TINY HUT goodbye dog

EVERYONE IS ROLLING AT LEAST 1 NAT1 thorne: wow! that sure is a dog. thorne has drawn the worst possible dog. thorne has erased the worst possible dog. we dont speak of the worst possible dog its the dog version of honse. DONSE

sieron is now on watch! MAN we are havin trouble rolling today. at least kali's here to make sure sieron doesnt stare at a rock for 50000 years sieron sees a mouse! bottom text

charlie is now on watch! kali is havin a big ol thonk. nothing meaningful has come of this

i am perceiving some deer. sieron is not perceiving some deer. silje is perceiving some deer, but better the deer are fucked up and undead! silje has gone from "we should hunt these deer for food" to "we should hunt these deer for sport"

charlie: i do not feel like being jumped by five thousand skeletons

charlie takes first watch with sieron! WHY ARE OUR ROLLS SO TERRIBLE taure is super cursed right now. that's not very pog charlie: this place sucks. thorne: to be fair, we havent-- charlie: YOU'RE ASLEEP, SHUT UP

oh hey coolname galvanic finally partied. nice.

thorne is at watch! solar: hey, is leomund's tiny hut an orb? there's a critter digging around! AH, THE CRITTER IS UNDEAD. this could be a problem

solar: hey michael, how much does the horrific sin against god dog i drew look like this creature michael: [dice roll noises] about 50%.

michael: if anyone likes, they can make a nature check-- solar: ME MEMEMEMEME ME ME ME

its a bulette! aka a land shark. problem: they are not normally undead. this one is undead.

jorb: imagine if you could tame one of those and use it as a mount. leo: IT WOULD JUST DIG UNDERGROUND AND LEAVE YOU THERE

we are just calling it a weird dog

we're going to mail a letter to the heart of arvus. HEY, CHECK OUT THIS WEIRD DOG,

JORB FOUND ART OF A BABY BULETTE. WEIRD PUPPY!

solar: hey guys, check out this sick art of a bulette i found

silje kept a lookout for the weird dog but its just fucked off. goodbye, weird dog give it up for day 3!

man there's been like, three incinerations today in blaseball. what's up with that. I SWEAR IM MOSTLY PAYING ATTENTION its just been an eventful day in blaseball. also im wearing my garages bomber rn. jaylen is home wooOOOO the wind smells stinky. this is fine.

we're actively avoiding whatever combat michael keeps nudging at us bc we're carrying around an unconscious person and i SWEAR hes gonna throw something directly at us once he's done with our shenanigans

UHH MICHAEL ASKING FOR PASSIVE PERCEPTION LOL

huh. this place used to be inhabited? we're in the woods rn but there's some like, stone ruins? like, VERY ruins. like, not really any structures standing, but enough evidence to show there Were things. WE FOUND A STATUE charlie: i want to smash my face against the lore.

used to be a circle of standing stones, but most of em fell over or got overgrown. inside of the circle has been cleared, although v roughly-- ground's torn up statue is of fjolnir! warrior holding up a spear and shield. AH, THERE ARE CORPSES, a human got REAL fucked up here. one of the corpses is straight up impaled on fjolnir's spear. n ... not pog.

i am trying so, so hard to pay attention. but i also kinda wanna take a nap.

charlie: [stares at statue] [rolls a 4] i wonder if he had a dick.

okay so something rolled in, tore up the overgrowth inside the circle, and murdered a couple dudes. and was also super tall and human-adjacent. hrm.

oh my god why are we rolling so shit today. time to stealth away and hope we dont get casually dismembered

k: jorb's hair is so long... leo: K, PLEASE,

time for a break! i am very tired but im gonan see if i can push through a little further. nyx is petting his cat why do orangatangs look like that

first watch is thorne and sieron! have they even, like, talked thorne unhabby ): thorne's worried we were tresspassing when checking out the statue, meanwhile im thinking about that one time when sieron got bit by a groundhog

(oh my god this is from late 2018)

leomund's tiny hut, aka the anti-sea bear circle we are getting SO much mileage out of the tiny hut. SILJE HUMS A SONG WITH KALI cute........... FINALLY I HAVE ROLLED ABOVE A 14 wait no i rolled a 16 twice. anyway we are not dead

nearly at camp vengenace! boy howdy i hope camp vengeance didnt get burned down. AH FUCK TAURE IS UNCONSCIOUS SO WE CANT CAST FOR DETECT POISON kaepora nearly made us all shit ourselves but its okay he just saw some bison and thought it was cool Michael Is Consulting Several Tables

WHY DOES JORB'S CAMERA ZOOM LIKE THAT why am i hungry. i have so many questions

HEY, TALL GUY [smacks sieron]

camp vengeance looks better! like, nobody's Obviously Sick anymore, the medical tents arent overfilled, we did it! we saved the dayyyyyy time to report to ryder! taure's getting dropped off at the medical tent

man remember when charlie didnt wear pants

oh man, with taure unconscious charlie is now taking point with social interaction. wild. jk im making jorb do it bc im tired HAHA NAT 20 PERSUASION BC OF ME HELPIN SIERON man ryder is such a cock. he was totally ready to keep throwing troops at heaven's brazier to die until we managed to persuade him out of it. jorb: did we tell ryder about the vision? michael: you kinda just took a look at him and went STINKY BOY!

okay yeah anything that dies on arvus will just pop back up as undead. man, arvus sucks.

ryder: alright, dismissed. charlie: seeya, soldier boy! :D hahahahaha im gonna eat his knees.

SILJE NEEDS ENRICHMENT IN HIS ENCLOSURE

charlie: ive decided he sucks. silje: we've already arrived to that, you're late!

LMAO WE WALKED IN ON INGRID AND HER CRUSH they fuckin. nice. you go, you funky lesbian

jorb: we've got the tiny hut, we could go anywhere leo: we could go to SPACE! nyx: we could not go to space. leo: WITH A TINY HUT STAIRCASE, WE CAN,

we are 320 miles away from the spaceship that exists on arvus. nice.

michael: justin sees you-- roll a strength saving throw. leo: i cant wait to die! [rolls a 3] I AM CRUSHED BY MY DOG michael: he rolled a nat20.

BOSS ENCOUNTER: CHARLIE'S DOG (the small circle next to him is one of the medical tents.)

THORNE IS PACT OF THE GUN solar: PARRY THIS, YOU FUCKING CASUAL

sieron, to ingrid: seems like youve been doing well charlie: i punch sieron. sieron: sieron: the camp, of course.

man we have no idea if the heart of arvus is actually related to the prophecy or not. theres a Lot of stuff lining up, but not enough, and its hard to say how much of it couldve been literal?

solar & michael: [discussing exposition] me: [cracking up bc penn sent me a funny dsmp joke]

prophecies are weird.

charlie is just s she is just sitting here SILJE PLAYED CARDS REALLY GOOD AT ME nyx rolled a nat20 and took all my money

oh cool we can talk to yrel telepathically! time to hoist yrel. THIS IS SO SCUFFED thorne mentioned yrel and now we're trying to explain to ingrid that we have a magic talking snake charlie: I WANT TO GO HOME. thorne: we cant go, we have a GOD-KING to kill! "i think theyre insane, theyre talking to a snake" "ingrid, druids exist" "oh. im gonna go back to getting railed by my 7 foot tall girlfriend"

#leo chirps #ttrpg #explorers of arvus #OKAY WE'RE CAUGHT UP NOW sorry abt that lmao

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emospritelet · 5 years ago

Note

Extracurricular verse, bc we can't forget these happy fuckers : 84 “The more, the merrier!”

I haven’t written any Extracurricular since last Christmas, which is a crying shame, but this is going to be my 100th fic on AO3, and I thought making it these three was somehow appropriate. Unfortunately you’ll have to wait for the next chapter for the smut, but there will definitely be threesome smut :)

[AO3]

As he drove slowly along tree-lined streets in the north of Berkeley, Professor Gold reflected that life could be incredibly strange. If anyone had suggested to him two years ago that he would be house-hunting on Christmas Eve with the love of his life he would have scoffed at the very idea. If they had then suggested that he would be house-hunting for three, with Professor Rush being one of the party, he would have thought them certifiable. And yet that was how they had chosen to spend at least part of their Christmas holidays. In fact it was how they had spent the past four weekends, with no luck finding a place they all liked.

It wasn’t that they couldn’t compromise when it suited them—two years as a threesome had made that very necessary—but they were each very certain about what they wanted from the house they were to share and to make a home in. None of the properties they had viewed thus far ticked all their boxes. Either the rooms were too dark for Belle’s liking, or there wasn’t enough quiet, contained space to put whiteboards for Rush’s liking, or the kitchen wasn’t up to Gold’s usual standards, or the garden was too overlooked… They had spent weeks searching with no luck, until Belle had spied the place they were headed to, recently reduced in price and therefore within the budget they had set themselves, although admittedly most of the money was coming from him. He didn't mind that; he was by far the wealthiest of them, and it was worth paying extra to get a place they all liked and could call home together. Perhaps this house would be the one. If Rush made it on time, of course.

“It’s here,” announced Belle.

Gold turned the wheel, steering the car into another tree-lined street, this one quieter, with large houses set back from the road and well-kept lawns outside. There were strings of coloured lights on every house, and in the trees, which made Belle smile delightedly, even though the large plastic Santa and reindeer in one of the gardens looked out of place in the California sunshine. It seemed a pleasant, quiet neighbourhood, and a little calculation in his head showed it to be reasonably close to the university. All good so far. The house they were to see was at the end, the real estate board outside proclaiming that it was being sold by De Ville’s. Gold parked up, opening the door and getting out before going around to open Belle’s. She was looking around excitedly, her cheeks flushed with the relative chill of the winter day, and he wanted to kiss her.

“It’s so green here!” she said happily.

Well, that was certainly true. Each house had a neat, well-kept garden and a large stretch of lawn. Some even had white picket fences to add to the quaintness. Trees and privet hedges bordered the gardens between neighbours, and Belle peered at the house, rising up on her toes as though that would give her a better view. She was itching to go inside, he could tell. Still, the realtor had told them to be there at twelve, and it was almost that now. Not long before her curiosity could be satisfied. So where was Rush? Gold looked at his watch, tapping his foot impatiently.

“He’s late,” he observed.

“You sound surprised.” Belle’s voice was teasing, and she glanced across at him with a grin. “Did you remind him?”

“Yes, I reminded him, I sent him a bloody text!” said Gold impatiently. “And I might add that I’m not his bloody PA. If he can’t organise his own bloody appointments I fail to see why I should be inconvenienced.”

“The realtor’s not even here yet,” said Belle soothingly. “He’ll be here.”

Gold grunted.

“He’ll be nose-deep in some bloody ridiculous theoretical crap,” he said, and straightened as a sleek silver car pulled up onto the long driveway. “Look, here’s the realtor. I told you he’d be late!”

“Would you relax?” Belle turned to face the realtor’s car. “Remember, if he doesn’t make it, you get to have first choice of the rooms.”

There was that, he supposed.

“Well, we can always look around the house ourselves,” he agreed. “Serve him right if he didn’t show and I put his office in the basement.”

The car door opened and a woman swung pale, slender legs out of the door, pushing to her feet with a toss of jaw-length blonde hair. She was tall and thin, wearing an elegant black dress beneath a short white coat that Gold was fairly sure was made of real fur. Red lips curved in a smile as she held out a hand.

“Mr Gold, I presume?” she drawled, in a very English accent. “Cara Deville-Waters. Delighted to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Gold shook her hand. “This is my partner, Belle French.”

He gestured to Belle, who stepped forward to shake Cara’s hand.

“Right,” said Cara breezily. “Well, here is the house. Lovely, quiet neighbourhood. Mainly professionals, some with young families. The owner has moved to Europe, as I understand it, so we’re maintaining the property in her absence.”

“It seems a lovely area,” observed Belle.

“Yes, very pleasant. The area itself is stacked with amenities, and has very good schools. Do you have children?”

“No,” said Gold.

“Not yet, anyway,” added Belle, making Cara grin.

“Well, best to plan ahead for these things, I always say. This is the sort of house that has the space for a large family, as you’ll see when we go inside. Shall we?”

“Oh, we’re just waiting for the third member of our - uh - family,” said Gold. “He should be here any minute. Or at least he would if he had any sense of punctuality and common courtesy.”

Belle gave him a level look as Cara looked intrigued, brows lifting.

“Oh, so there are three of you?”

“That’s not a problem, I trust,” said Gold, in a very even tone, and she waved a languid hand.

“The more, the merrier!” she said. “And the house is certainly large enough. Do let me know if you have any other requirements, and I can point them out as we go.”

“The listing mentioned a hot tub,” said Belle.

“It’s out the back,” said Cara. “There’s a section of raised decking leading out from the kitchen. If you like we can—”

She was cut off by her phone ringing, and after glancing at the screen she pulled a face and sent them a guilty look.

“I do apologise,” she said fervently. “It’s my wife. She doesn’t call during viewings unless it’s urgent, so—”

“Oh please, take your time,” said Belle hurriedly.

She grasped Gold’s hand and pulled him up the driveway as Cara answered the phone, and Gold ran his eyes over the large brick-built garage with its painted roller-shutter door.

“Enough room for both our cars, easily,” he remarked. “Rush’s Ford will probably drip oil all over the paving, though.”

“He says it’s your car that’s the leaker,” said Belle absently, and Gold frowned.

“The Cadillac does not leak, she just - gets a head cold every now and then.”

“Mhmm.” Belle looked amused. “What do you think of the neighbourhood?”

“Pleasant,” said Gold, looking around. “Lots of green space, which I’m sure you’ll enjoy.”

“Yeah.” Belle whirled on her toes to face him, eyes sparkling. “Can we get a dog?”

“A dog?” Gold pursed his lips. “Who’s going to look after it when we’re at the university all day?”

“You could take it to class,” suggested Belle. “That’s an eccentric thing to do, isn’t it? You can get away with it because you’re Scottish.”

“I doubt that,” said Gold dryly.

“Well, it’s not too far from the university,” she persisted. “I could cycle back every lunchtime and walk the dog.”

“We’ll talk about it if and when we buy the place,” he said, and she huffed.

“Okay, that’s fair enough.”

“We can certainly get a couple of cats,” he added, and Belle squeaked in excitement, making him grin.

Cara had put her phone away and was hurrying towards them, looking harassed.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, almost wringing her hands. “My wife’s car has broken down. She’s stuck on the side of the road waiting for a tow-truck. Unfortunately, she was on her way to the airport to pick up her father, who’s coming to visit for Christmas. She’s asked if I can go instead. I’m so sorry, but I’ll have to postpone our viewing until later.”

“Oh.” Belle chewed her lip, looking disappointed, and Gold raised an eyebrow.

“Well, as we’re still waiting here anyway, why don’t we look over the house?” he suggested. “We could drop the keys back at the office in a couple of hours if you’re not back by then.”

“I really should be here to answer any questions you might have,” she said, running a hand through her hair in agitation. “Although I suppose two hours would get the job done. Are you sure you don’t mind looking around by yourselves?”

“Given that we have no idea when the third of our party will finally remember he has somewhere to be, I doubt it’ll be an issue,” said Gold, in a very dry tone, and Belle gave him a look.

“I’ll make a note of any questions we have as we’re going around,” she said, and Cara sighed heavily and dug in her bag, fishing out a set of keys and a sheaf of papers.

“Property particulars and room dimensions,” she said, handing them over. “I’ll be back by two, barring unforeseen circumstances.”

She hurried back to her car, heels clicking on the paving, and Belle and Gold shared a grin.

“Well,” he said. “Let’s take a look.”

The entrance hall was spacious and warm, a tiled floor leading to a sweeping staircase that led to the upper floor. The banisters were in warm, shining wood, and the tiles gleamed as though they had been mopped that morning. Gold suspected they had. He took a step forward, testing the surface with the end of his cane, but to his relief it wasn’t slippery. Getting around with a limp made some floor surfaces treacherous. Sunlight was shining in from the top of the stairs and from a window at the far end, and overall he thought it was a pleasant, welcoming space.

“Looks good so far,” he said, tucking the property particulars inside his coat. “Shall we explore?”

Belle went first, opening the first door she came to.

“Here’s the lounge,” she announced.

Gold followed her in. The lounge was large, the front windows of the house letting in plenty of light. The floors were covered in pale cream tiles, and Gold’s cane clicked as he walked. It was still furnished with a couple of large leather couches and an easy chair, grouped around a glass and chrome coffee table and a wide stone fireplace. The room had been emptied of anything else that might have hinted at the tastes of its owners, but the couches gave it a comfortable air.

“Ooh, we could have a log fire!” said Belle excitedly.

“In California?” remarked Gold, and she sent him a look.

“It can get cold here!” she insisted. “It’s cold today, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.” He walked slowly around the room. Beyond the hearth, the room turned a corner into a large open plan dining area, and he turned back to Belle before heading into it. “This is a nice room. Plenty of space, and enough light to read by for most of the day, I should think.”

“There’ll be more light at the rear,” she said. “It faces south.”

“So perhaps that’s where we should install the library,” he said, and wanted to grin at her beaming smile.

“Oh, so I get my library?” She walked towards him, swaying her hips in that infuriatingly alluring way she had when she was getting exactly what she wanted. “I knew I could talk you around.”

“I hardly took much convincing, as I recall,” he remarked, and Belle pouted, sliding her hands up his chest and letting her fingers push into his hair.

“Pity,” she said. “I thought of a few more methods of persuasion I could use to ensure we get a dog.”

Gold chuckled, one hand sliding around her waist to pull her closer.

“Oh, you can still use your wiles against me, Miss French,” he said lazily. “But perhaps we ought to finish looking over the house first.”

Belle rose up on her toes to kiss him, soft lips pressing against his before she settled back on her heels.

“I wonder if there are any other university types in the neighbourhood,” she said.

“Unlikely, unless they have another source of income,” said Gold. “We could ask the realtor what she knows about the residents of this area, though.”

“I’ll add it to the list of questions,” said Belle, still stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. “I’m surprised she let us look over the place ourselves. I thought she’d tell us to come back another day.”

“I imagine the commission on this sale would be an extremely welcome Christmas present,” he remarked.

“I suppose.” She looked around. “It has a nice feel to it, doesn’t it?”

Gold thought about it for a moment. He was far from the superstitious type, preferring to go on facts and figures, and tangible evidence. On paper, at least, the property was both a good investment, and appeared to meet most, if not all, of their requirements. They would have a better idea of whether it was correctly represented when they had been over the place, but he thought he understood what Belle meant. There was a pleasant atmosphere, a warmth that didn’t just come from the underfloor heating.

“It’s - it’s certainly a good start,” he said, and kissed her again. “But I think we should look beyond the lounge before making a decision on this place.”

“Like the kitchen?” she said knowingly. “Okay, you’re on.”

Gold glanced out of the window over her shoulder as a flash of dark red caught his eye. His mouth flattened.

“Looks like someone finally got here,” he said, and Belle chuckled, wriggling from his arms and trotting into the hallway.

Gold followed more slowly, trying to keep the smile from his face as he saw her sprint down the driveway and fling herself on Rush almost before he had gotten out of the car. The force of her greeting knocked his glasses askew, and he was clearly trying to simultaneously keep his balance, close the car door and hug Belle. He made it by shoving the door shut with one hip and frantically grasping at his glasses before they could fall.

“You’re bloody late!” called Gold.

“Only five minutes.”

“More like twenty, but who’s counting?”

“You, apparently.”

“Stop bickering!” chided Belle, still hanging onto Rush. “Come on, I want us all to look over this house! I think it could be the one!”

“You said that about the last four,” said Rush, clutching her around the waist as they walked back up the driveway.

“Yes, and I have to be right at some point.”

He grunted in amusement, running a hand through hair already messy from the day. His stubble was growing through again, the winter sun glinting on his cheeks and chin. His shirt was also very wrinkled, and Gold suspected he had spent the previous night at the university, head down in some sort of research. He and Belle had spent the night at his place, curled up in each other’s arms, and had spent the early morning eating breakfast at his kitchen table before heading out. Rush’s own breakfast had probably been a pint of coffee and a few cigarettes, and if nothing else, he suspected that them all moving in together would be good for Rush’s health. At least he’d have two people around to nag him into eating and sleeping properly.

“And don’t even think about going back to the university when we’re done here,” added Belle. “It’s Christmas Eve, and I want both of my men firmly committed to the festive season. Here.”

She pulled out of Rush’s grip as they reached the doorstep, pawing through her shoulder bag before pulling out a large handful of red plush and white faux fur and brandishing it with a beaming smile. Rush sighed heavily.

“What’s that?”

“Santa hats!” she said gleefully. “Come on, it’s Christmas!”

As if to demonstrate, she pulled one of the hats down on her dark curls, white pom-pom bouncing. Belle held up the other two hats, shaking them back and forth.

“I can already tell you that doesn’t go with my outfit,” remarked Gold, and Belle pouted at him.

“If you don’t have a Santa hat, you don’t get inside.”

“I’m already inside,” he pointed out, and Belle smirked.

“Who said I meant the house?” she said lightly.

Minx, he thought, and she grinned at him, bouncing on her toes as though she could read his mind. Rush grumbled under his breath, but reached for one of the hats.

“Tis the bloody season, I suppose,” he said, and tugged it down on his head. “Come on Gold, don’t be such a bloody Scrooge.”

Gold sent him a very level look, then sighed and held out his hand.

“Alright,” he grumbled. “But no pictures.”

“Oh, I’m not promising that,” said Belle airily, giving him the hat. “Now let’s go check out that hot tub.”

#sprite's festive fic fest #fic: extracurricular #rumbellerush fic #my fic #rumbellerush #ripperblackstaff

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cainfm · 5 years ago

Text

『BILL SKARSGARD ❙ NONBINARY』 ⟿ looks like CAIN ROMANOV is here for THEIR SENIOR year as a LITERATURE student. THEY are 25 years old & known to be RIGHTEOUS, TRUE, EVASIVE & GUARDED. They’re living in MORIS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ JAMES. 21. EST. SHE/THEY.

hdsjnf hello all ... it is james again ... here with another ... replacing noelle with cain bt it’s fine im fine. i’ve hit muse limit u wn’t hear frm me again ... so hit tht like button .. this isnt the best intro ive done bt mostly bc im just kinda like ... taking an old one n rewriting it as i go

TW CULTS, HEROIN USE / ADDICTION, DRUG ADDICTION / USE, ABUSE, PSYCHOLOGICAL / EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION, PTSD, ANXIETY, TRAUMA.

aesthetics.

dangling limbs from tree branches, yellowed book pages, opened bottles of vintage wine, oversized sweaters and deep under eyes, bleached denim, worn leather gloves, cat hair against black cloth, fields of wheat, broken windows, descending staircases, tight-lipped smiles during public appearances, golden skies, light spilling from windows, stumbling over one’s own words, wire-framed beds, linens, wool scarves, making the wrong decisions; running, from others and yourself.

basic info.

full name: cain alexei romanov

nickname(s): n/a

b.o.d. - feb 19th, pisces :) happy birthday!

label(s): the connard (previously), the escapist, the facade, the fallen, the lothario (previously), the pariah, the phoenix, the puppeteer (previously), the sybarite, etc.

height: 6′4″ ... bruv.

hometown: stratford, connecticut

sexuality: bisexual uwu?

stats

inspired by: i feel like i did ... have an inspiration for him but i don’t ... remember ... so ur not getting this one ... i might edit this later if smth pops into my head but. alas.

biography.

born to connecticut senator vaughn romanov and well known philanthropist adelaide romanov, they were born into a life of privilege in a very prominent new england family. they’re the eldest of five in a very nuclear, picture perfect, preppy chic family.

was brought up to be a class a, outstanding, perfect citizen. golden child to the all american family (willfully ignoring the fact that his father came from russian immigrants). cain listened, obeyed, never strayed outside the lines.

it was always intended for cain to take on after their father, to follow in his footsteps and become a politician too. there were several expectations for them, including joining model un, debate, deca, splitting time between soccer, track, basketball, lacrosse, becoming class president, and all while maintaining a valedictorian - worthy gpa.

even volunteered on the weekends at homeless shelters and food banks, proving to everybody in their community just how much of a gem they were, darling, perfect member of society.

always eager as a child, eager for approval, eager to impress and wow and dazzle authorities and adults alike - cain never really had a problem with any of it? always attended church on sundays and sometimes even wednesdays. participated in family dinners and christmas photoshoots and new years eve parties, easter egg hunts and family reunions.

born and raised in stratford, super close to lovell to the point where it’d always been expected that the romanov children would simply just go to radcliffe, as did their parents. their home in stratford is a big, fancy, seven bedroom eight bath house with two fireplaces and an expansive dining room. no pool, but a sturdy treehouse made by scratch.

however. their model citizen persona was just that, a persona - a charade. in the community and to his family, cain was a hardworking citizen who upheld standards, a leader. to classmates and peers, from elementary to college - cain was the devil themself.

arrogant, harrowing, an outright bully who tore down others when they felt like it, often unprovoked. they were the senator’s son, and a rich one at that - rules never applying because they simply never existed for them, the upmost privilege because of who their family happened to be and their place in society. tattlers of their behavior faced far more consequence than cain ever did, or would.

the sort of person who’d genuinely look down at someone if they had less than them - a narcissistic dickhead who cared about two or three people, tops, outside of their family. was never physically violent, nor did they raise their voice, but that’s what made them all the worse. made them all the scarier. spewed classist bullshit with ease and was addicted to the power high it gave them.

their only redeeming quality was their protectiveness over their family - never the best person, but family is family, and they thought it ought’d to be protected.

went into political science and business to please their father, mainly, every step they made - every path cain went down, every choice from the electives they took in high school to the brand of shoes they wore, was to build them into the ideal presidential candidate.

probably joined a frat though cain never participated in parties too often, known for keeping their composure even when others resorted to violence, or got too drunk, or caused any public commotion, because they didn’t like to leave a bad image for the press. did their drugs in private but left nothing to the imagination, publicly.

but alas. during college, two very important series of events occurred.

seeking thrills, searching for fun in all the wrong places - cain became a middle-man between dealers and producers. never dealt it, and never produced it, but simply transported it between one another; the less everybody knew about each other the better. it was always a very hushed operation. one that they could’ve profited much off of, though money was never the motive for them.

and then he met earl and may meyers, fellow volunteers at a thanksgiving food drive; an older couple immediately drawn to cain, reasonable considering just who their father was, and cain to them. they can’t tell you what about the couple was so appealing - the air around them was something else entirely; some called it unhinged, others would call it comforting. but they were kind folks, down to earth - very religious, and very warmhearted. liked his name, a lot - like in the bible, they’d say, and laugh, and pat his arm. they would say, on occasion, that they reminded them of their late son.

it’d happened towards the end of their junior year, a few years after they’d gotten involved in the drug business - and the meyers were volunteering more and more, always at the same places as cain. the same times, too, as if they were learning his schedule. in retrospect - it was odd, but cain’d never suspected a thing. they kept talking, and it became a genuine friendship - a secured vote in the next election.

it only took a few months into this that they’d begun to talk about religion more. the sin of wealth, and god choosing only a select few when he cleanses the earth. only the worthiest souls. they’d eventually get into the rhythm of telling cain they were special - that they could see they’d be selected, see it in their aura, in their dreams, god sending them messages, etc. most would find it to be absolutely ... bonkers.

but it was oddly appealing to cain - like, maybe i am being constrained by capitalism. maybe i am disappointing god - aren’t i a devoted follower? it felt nearly ridiculous, but it seeped into their mind. psychological manipulation, lasting over months and cain unsuspecting. as if they could ever be the one manipulated. but the meyers could ask cain to jump, and they’d simply say - how high?

soon enough, earl and may told them that they were moving. that there’d been so many more like them and that it was time to join them, time to prepare - to get ready for the rapture. cain held off at first, finishing up their first term of their senior year and their life planned right before their eyes. everything they’d ever worked for. their loyal companions and close-knit family, their side-business that’d only gotten stronger - a long-term girlfriend and the engagement ring that burnt in their pocket, made their heart beat twice as fast at the very thought. still the same as before, cruel without a cause, but still surrounded by those who loved them - who could find something in them to love.

but a month into their senior year, cain had a sudden change of heart. they were ready, now, if not now then never later. all because of a third event. a surprise. a shock. a betrayal.

they had discovered that they were not their father’s child - not at all, not even by an inch. they were someone else’s, completely. their mother had broken down and cracked, after a particularly straining christmas party. the discussion was long, and the heartbreak only grew. the anger only grew. the hurt - it grew. more and more, with each pitiful sob their mother gave them. it was a mistake - a one night stand in a fit of petty anger in the very early stages of their marriage. and only cain knew - like they had to carry this weight, now, that they never asked to have.

it was the kind of information that broke a person. cain idolized their parents, done everything they’d ever asked - ever expected, and beyond, let them mold them like putty into whatever form they wanted. only to find out that in the end, it didn’t matter. it never mattered, if cain wasn’t the blood child of vaughn. if their mother - a woman who hadn’t a bad bone in her body, was nothing but a cheat and a liar.

cain unraveled.

they spent the first week getting into an altercation with near anybody who looked at them wrong. physical, usually - though arguments arose frequently as well. with no explanation, only thrown fists - often drunk, or high, or sober too - it never mattered. they spent a night in county jail, it’d gotten so bad. it seemed to have no end.

right until new years, just after midnight, when cain had disappeared without a word. it was treated like a missing persons case, though there was no evidence of foul play or kidnapping, and not much could be done about it.

BEGINNING OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS

the only people who knew of cain’s whereabouts were the meyers - because they had left together. a last minute decision that, if they had only waited a simple minute longer, would’ve never happened. a mistake they desperately wished they could take back. a mistake that led to another event - maybe the most important one of them all.

they’d gone only hours away from stratford, and lovell, the border between new york and connecticut and not as far as cain had initially thought, but deep, deep into the woods. that was where the cult’d been. they wore white linens and cotton, but never mixed. technology banned, prayers and daily chores. it was natural, at first. for the first three months, that was.

it could’ve been grand. it was peaceful, and mind-clearing, and they treated cain as if their birth was a sign from the angels. cain come to undo his past. a potential leader. but the longer they stayed, the more apparent it became that they weren’t all that the cult had wanted, so desperately, to believe. once they began to slip up, once members became displeased - that’s when the punishments began to occur.

sometimes once a week, but sometimes - and, later, much more so, multiple. the memories are suppressed, for the most part - but there are some things they simply can’t - the hands, they can’t forget. pulling, and tugging, and gripping - begging, asking him to repent, please, repent. their head held underwater, counting seconds until their vision’d eventually darken and go out, only to be pulled out gasping and sobbing. these memories stay - these memories repeat themselves, like a record stuck on repeat, days blurring into one another.

when they tried to fight back - they were subdued. heroin was the first step. little by little, everyday - enough to leave them in a high they wouldn’t remember; enough to burn a hole in their memory. and with these dimming memories, cain’d begin to sneak paper and pencil into their living arrangement, their room, writing everyday. wrote as much as they could remember from home - about their family, their life before it all - the people they loved. they couldn’t remember what they’d written, some days.

and when those notes were found, bound by thread taken from their own clothing to form a shabby book - that’d been the final straw. dragged, kicking and screaming - mind-numbingly high, into place. the twisted reenactment, retelling of cain’s demise. how exactly he’d gotten his scar. it would’ve been near perfect, if they had only stayed still and let them brand the mark into his forehead. but instead - they settled, eventually, for the chest. then - the left cain to die in the middle of the woods. in the middle of nowhere. no trails or campsites to follow, nothing at all. nothing but trees. nothing but his notes and the clothes on their back. they hadn’t even known what day it was - almost forgotten the year, too.

cain should’ve died there, but cain got up. and they ran. and ran. and ran. until they hit something, eventually. a road. it’d been pure luck that they’d found a car near immediately afterwards, whose driver wasn’t doubling as a murderer, who took them to the hospital - and who gave cain that chance to live. they were found on new years, a full cycle - a full year in the cult that’d changed their life.

END OF CULT / DRUG / MOST OF THE TRIGGER WARNINGS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION. STILL MENTIONS OF TRAUMA / MENTAL HEALTH / RECOVERY / ADDICTION BEYOND THIS POINT.

after being reunited with their family in the hospital - everything went by very fast. they couldn’t recognize their youngest sibling, but they also couldn’t remember why they’d left in the first place. couldn’t remember the name of their girlfriend, but the color of her hair and the way she smelled. they couldn’t give answers to their actions.

and after being put into therapy and recovery for their addiction - that’s when they find out that their father’s a presidential candidate, that they had been - that they used cain’s disappearance as a story for the press, one to garner votes. their return is national news, and their public opinion skyrockets. it’s supposed to be glorious, and a miracle, a blessing - but cain feels restrained. confined to the role they’d always been expected to play - expected to get up and continue with their life, as if nothing had happened.

but nothing didn’t happen - everything happened, and cain’s different now, vastly so - no longer who they thought they were. they change their major to literature, abandon politics. they get some cats, start working at the library, and they put on some leather gloves - their method of staying away, of keeping a comfortable distance. they are different, now, and simply only wish to focus on their recovery.

personality.

they’re no longer who they once were. a year of trauma does things to a person - and with memory loss that weighs heavy on their mind, they are near completely different. they remember parts of their old personality, their old lifestyle - enough to know they want to be better. they’re convinced that it’s karma, what happened to them. for being who they were - acting the way they did. just ... a bunch of self-blame.

even with the massive ego, cain’s always been a quiet person. but now - now cain’s even quieter. kinder, if not a little sarcastic, like a relic from the past. they’re distant - but it’s one of fear, restrictive and tense - not one made out of their own comfort.

smokes medical marijuana but rarely drinks ... as if that’d make a difference. in an effort to beat their heroin addiction, they’ve turned to prescriptions instead.

like i mentioned ... cain has four cats. it’s basically their entire personality. two of them were from before their disappearance, but two are new to their little (school-approved) family. there is: frank (big chungus when yelled. white and gray), brock (orange. fluffy. stoic. devours food), shoelace (black furred, missing an eye and half an ear), and crunchwrap supreme (crunch for short. calico with bent ears). yes, they have photos of their cats in their wallet.

cain’s memory is fucked - like, really fucked. they forget a lot of things. short term, long term. it’s a constant struggle. they managed to keep their notes from the cult, so those help - but not always. they forget dates and names and faces and events. sometimes they wake up and don’t know where they are. they don’t sleep often, anyways. with the trauma came night terrors, and in an attempt to avoid them they don’t ... sleep often. only a few hours a night if they can withstand it, because it’s frankly terrible.

they suffer from severe touch aversion. skin contact with anybody, of any sort, is enough to send cain into a full-blown panic attack. they were leather gloves more often than not in an attempt to combat this disadvantage, without hindering their dexterity too much. even with clothes, they’re not the biggest fan of physical contact. it won’t send him into a panic attack, but they visibly flinch away. they’re very clear from the get-go, if someone is too close to them, that they don’t like physical contact.

dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week. their therapist recommended that they keep writing their notes, after reviewing them himself, so cain does. they keep an entire journal where they write, and sketch a little, because it helps them cope and de-stress. it means a lot to them, actually.

also dealing with ptsd and attends therapy every week - therapist recommended he kept writing after looking at his notes - so he does, keeps an entire journal where they write and like … sketch a little, because it helps them cope. means more to them than it would seem. but, unfortunately, part of their coping involves getting far too involved in their own mini-investigation of the cult they’d been part of. when the cult was tracked back to where cain’d been brought, they were already gone - and cain wants to know where. wants to know how to find them. wants justice, vengeance. wants nobody else to get hurt from them.

pretty blunt ... won’t go out of their way to announce that hey, they were part of a cult, and that’s why they’re gone and that’s why that’s the way they are now - but they also won’t lie about it, if the topic comes up in conversation. they don’t like delusions, don’t like secrets, nor do they like unnecessary attention.

being at radcliffe makes cain anxious because - well, they’re surrounded by people they’ve been doing wrong by for years now and they can’t even remember which ones. who, what, when, why - distant memories, if they’re even there at all. is constantly trying to figure out how to redeem themselves. they’d leave, if it hadn’t been their parents’ assistance that they stay there. so that someone always has an eye on them.

but like ...they screwed over a lot of people when they left. from plugs / customers to their ex-girlfriend, who they are, undeniably, still in love with (you can’t forget that feeling) - to their friends. like. everybody, pretty much KBJNSDFKSNLD

is often pretty high ... i’d say it’s just the medical weed but. alas :/ take a guess :/

hates cars & swimming & crowds. hates feeling trapped and will avoid it whenever possible. doesn’t want to be seen as unsociable, but it’s difficult.

they ... have a tendency to run away when they’re overwhelmed. likes to climb trees because they’re tall enough to. there’s a tree outside of their window that they climb out to frequently, even though it’s like a ~safety hazard~ or whatever. just really likes to hide out.

used to be in perkins when they last attended radcliffe, but they gave their spot to someone else and that was like - 100% fine w/ cain tbh. lives alone in moris now.

feels the need to redeem themself ... to like, everybody. like, they want to avoid conflict and be a better person, but it’s hard, and they don’t necessarily like confrontation either - and not everybody believes that cain’s changed. it wouldn’t be surprising if people were suspicious of cain, for whatever reason, because they don’t ... really have the best track record anymore.

developed a stutter as one of the results from their trauma. their voice is damaged from screaming and they’re self-conscious about it, but they’re working on it because there’s more important things to worry about. in general, cain looks ... gaunt, too thin, and generally sickly.

repeating senior year ... fr obvious reasons ... and probably won’t graduate anytime soon because they’ve changed their major so late.

can still hold a conversation & they’re not really afraid of socialization. it just takes a toll on them. they’re pretty lowkey, as a person. soft, sorta. quiet but they won’t be an asshole (on purpose). they like people! just. very low energy.

so like ... tldr ... not an asshole anymore ... dealing with a lot of trauma ... trying to be a good person ... yes ...

wanted connections.

locals... people they’ve grown up with their entire life. people they’ve wronged, people who idolized him, envied him, despised him, etc.

enemies... would love for a bunch of these just. a hoard of people who fucking hate cain. because it fits the bill. they could’ve bullied them, or wronged them, whatever. anything works. let’s make it happen.

exes... that they’ve dumped... old hookups, ex-friends, people they got into an argument with or fought before they disappeared last year...

ex girlfriend... that connection wld b rly neat!! i have it up as a wc rn but we can take that down ... will be holding intense american idol - esque auditions. remember that cain ws a fckn classist pig and probably only dated people who were also rich with influential families. (unless u present a very good case to me ... then maybe ... perhaps ...)

family friends... family rivals... people he knows mostly thru their family.

redeemable... people they’re trying to redeem themself to... trying to prove their worth, and that they’re a better person now, etc. etc.

old clients... :) angry clients. that they left in the dust.

perkins... people he knew from perkins ... old pals or maybe enemies idk he was pretty insufferable ... people he used to go to fancy parties with sometimes ...

angery... people so so so so fucking pissed at cain, for whatever reason.

reconciliation... reconnecting... used to be friends and we can be friends again :) and i will be better this time! i’m a slut for slowburns, especially slowburn friendships ... enemies to friends ... now THAT is sexy.

victims... of bullying ... :/ of their bullying specifically.

sof...t... wholesome content ... nothing but soft, understanding friendships ... or developing friendships ... make them feel welcomed again... forgive them...

an..g.st... friends to enemies. enemies to bigger enemies. miscommunication. betrayal. whatever u want.

no hookups!!! ... please only previous encounters. nothing in the present. because it just wldn’t make sense.

unless... eyes emoji. H DSJLFJKS just kidding! i’d accept MAYBE some kind of sexual tension but like ... the sort that hurts, because it just Cannot Happen (i will not let it happen). or maybe a fun, casual sexting thing but like. nothing physical. pleasthe.

fuck politics!... mayhaps, they hate mr. romanov and his politics or smth. he’s probably corrupt in some way, so! go at it!

aggression... i feel like a lot of the conversations between cain n other ppl start out rly ... angry bc theyre Mad. at them.

ok it’s bed time please plot with me.

#radintro #cult tw #heroin tw #drug abuse tw #addiction tw #trauma tw #ptsd tw #anxiety tw #manipulation tw #abuse tw #i think thts all ...

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 6 years ago

Text

Shyer Than Me

Pairing: Gwilym Lee!Brian May x Reader

Summary: The band want to meet Brian’s girlfriend - Brian reflects on his time with her

Requested: No but I love Brian so fucking much and haven’t written for him properly before

Warnings: Swearing, lots of references to English literature (whoops), italics mean it’s set in the past!

A/N: so this is my first full-length Brian fic! Please remember to let me know what you think - I love hearing from you guys!! Reading your comments, reblogs and asks really make my day and inspire me to write more and I also kinda love the way this turned out so please let me know if you want me to write more for Brian (bc I totally want to write more for him :))

“We’re just saying, Bri, you guys have been dating for how long now?” Roger asked the university student as he tuned his guitar.

“A year and three months,” the soft-spoken man said, not looking up at the drummer as he answered his question, though there was a smile on his face, a smile that was always present whenever Y/N was brought into the conversation.

“Right, you guys have been dating a year and three months now, you’ve told her you love her, she loves you, she’s met your family and yet we can’t meet her?” Brian raised his mop of curly hair just in time to see Roger gesturing between himself and the other two band members.

“You’d scare her off,” Brian shrugged and Freddie scoffed.

“Please, darling, if she’s stuck around this long I hardly think meeting the rest of us will scare her,” Brian rolled his eyes, setting his guitar to the side, finally finished with tuning. He stood and stretched, feeling the satisfying click of his muscles as they stretched out.

“We don’t know anything about her other than you love her, Brian, and that one photo in your wallet,” John said, putting it more gently than the other two. Brian raised his eyebrows at his friends.

“How do you know about the photo of her in my wallet?”

“None of us wanted to pay for the food when we went out a few months and you had left you wallet unattended,” Roger waved him off.

“It was Roger’s idea if you couldn’t tell,” John added, laughing at Roger’s nonchalant response.

“She’s hot though,” Roger added helpfully. Brian’s smile widened and he nodded.

“She’s beautiful,” he agreed.

“So we can meet her?” Brian shook his head, a laugh escaping his lips at his best friend’s persistence.

“Nope!”

“Then at least tell us about her!” Freddie demanded. Brian rolled his eyes, becoming well aware of the fact that, for once, the men weren’t going to back down on the subject of his girlfriend.

“We need to prepare for the show,” he tried but the men shook their heads, each of them taking a seat. Freddie pulled Mary onto his lap and they all looked at him expectantly.

“We have hours to go before the show, we’re fine,”

“We just want to hear about your girlfriend!” Roger groaned, throwing his head back. Brian let out a long sigh before giving a slow nod, taking a seat on his amp.

“What do you want to know?” The boys eyes lit up at the question.

“How did you meet?” A smile crossed his face as he remembered meeting Y/N for the first time.

“Are you okay?” Brian asked, approaching the girl. She was stood on her tiptoes, desperately reaching for a book at the top of the shelf in the bookstore. She turned to Brian and immediately looked away, ducking down to hide her face.

“I’m fine, thank you,” she whispered and Brian noticed the adorable way in which she played with her fingers, clearly shy and embarrassed.

“Do you want me to get that down for you?” He offered gently, not wanting to scare off the woman but at the same time not wanting to stop talking to her - she was gorgeous, there was no doubt about that. And this was probably the longest conversation he had successfully held with an attractive woman in over a month.

“I don’t want to be a bother,” she denied quickly, twisting her fingers together as she risked a look at Brian under her lashes. He gave her a reassuring smile and shook his head easily.

“No bother at all, love, don’t worry. For once my height may actually come in handy,” he joked and a sense of accomplishment and pride filled his chest at the sound of her quiet laughter filling his ears.

“Then if you don’t mind,” she agreed shyly. Brian shook his head and reached his hand up.

“Which one?”

“Keats, please,” the pretty woman asked, holding her hands out for Brian to place the large book of poetry into.

“You read a lot of poetry?” He asked, not wanting to stop talking to her.

“I study English Literature at the university,” she explained, a quiet smile on her face.

“That’s cool! I study Astrophysics there,” Brian said. The woman bit her lip and looked at Brian through her lashes.

“I have some other books to pick up,” she whispered and Brian nodded, feeling disheartened that the woman didn’t appear to want to spend more time with her. “Would you um...” she trailed off, looking away as she tried to collect herself. Brian’s heart picked up a little at how adorably confused she seemed.

“It’s okay, love,” Brian chuckled.

“Would you like to come with me?” She offered, closing her eyes as though preparing herself for rejection.

“I’d love to,” Brian agreed. “I’m Brian, by the way, your own personal step ladder,” she giggled at his words and shifted the book of poetry to rest in just one of her arms so that she could shake his hand.

“Y/N,”

“That’s... kind of really sweet,” Roger said uncomfortably, clearly not used to enjoying hearing romantic stories of his friends.

Roger never was the romantic type.

Brian looked down, shifting awkwardly.

“Yeah, well...” he trailed off, clearly unsure of how to finish his sentence.

“So you two just hit it off from there?” Mary asked, clearly invested in the story. Brian shrugged, smiling a little at the memory.

“Pretty much,” he agreed.

“Did she stop being shy and awkward?” Roger asked and John elbowed him, causing both of them to start laughing. Brian shook his head at them rolling his eyes but smiling nonetheless.

“On our first date she was still pretty shy at first but opened up a little more as it went on,”

Brian bounced on the balls of his feet, biting his lip as he stared down at his watch. He was stood outside of her home - it was a house that she shared with her roommates from university, Y/N had mentioned over the phone that there were six of them including herself living there.

It must be a completely different dynamic to that between him and Roger living together.

He didn’t want to be too early for there date - not wanting to come across as too eager or anything that may scare her off after she had agreed to it, which had taken a lot of convincing in itself.

It was safe to say that Y/N was probably the shyest person Brian had ever met.

It was fine, though. If anything he found it cute. Her shyness made him want to be more confident, to look after her.

“Are you Brian?” His head snapped up towards the door. A man stood in the doorway, eyebrows raised as he looked at the guitarrist.

“Uh - yeah,”

“Here for Y/N then?”

“Yeah,” the man stepped back, offering him entrance to the house.

“Come inside - it’s cold out,” Brian nodded and walked up to the door, entering into the hallway. “I’m James - one of her roommates,”

“It’s nice to meet you,”

“You too - Y/N/N hasn’t stopped talking about you,” James laughed before walking to the stairs. “Y/N/N! Your date’s here!” He shouted loudly and turned back to Brian. “Cat’s just helping her finish getting ready,” he informed the musician. Brian nodded, swallowing and wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.

“Well I’m quite early,”

“It’s fine - good, actually. Put Y/N’s mind at rest,” he laughed, shaking his head and then seemed to pick up on Brian’s confused expression. “She was fairly sure you were going to cancel on her or something,” Brian chuckled and shook his head quickly.

“Definitely not - I’ve been looking forward to this for the past two days - just ask my roommate, he’s sick to death of hearing about it,” James threw back his head and laughed just as there were light footsteps on the staircase.

“Hey Brian,” she said quietly. Brian struggled to keep his mouth closed as he stared at her in wonder.

She was dressed simply in a cute sundress, her hair done up properly and her make-up done to perfection and yet Brian had never been quite so awestruck by a woman before.

“I wasn’t sure how smart or casual you meant by smart-casual,” Y/N admitted, a shy smile on her face as she awaited Brian’s response. The curly-haired man cleared his throat and grinned at her.

“You look amazing,” Y/N giggled a little at his words and took his outstretched hand, grabbing her bag from the side as the two of them passed the table on their way out of her home. “Do you like Italian food?”

“I love it,” she grinned, squeezing his hand, sending Brian’s heart into a frenzy of out of time beats.

Every time that he looked at her Brian felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. When she laughed at his jokes, when she was telling anecdotes about her roommates, when she started speaking so passionately about English Literature and poetry. Everything she did made him want to kiss her.

But he didn’t.

He wasn’t about to mess this up.

“You didn’t kiss her?” John asked, eyes widening slightly. Brian shrugged and shook his head.

“It wasn’t the right time,” Brian explained. Roger scoffed.

“It’s always the right time,”

“And that, Roger, is why you have yet to be in a serious relationship,” Mary added, the comment taking all of them by surprise, the group of them busting up into laughter.

“I don’t know how you like this shit,” Y/N laughed, closing Brian’s heavy textbook and tossing it to the side, turning instead to face him. He pouted.

“You were meant to be testing me,”

“You know it all,” Y/N waved him off, the smile on her face wide and genuine, a far cry from the shy one that had seemed a near-permanent fixture on her face for the first two weeks of their relationship.

“Is that so?” Brian asked, rolling over on her bed so that he was hovering above her, eyes crinkled as he smiled down at her.

Y/N reached up and gently tucked one of his unruly curls behind his ear, out of his face and ran her hand tenderly down his jaw, her face softening.

“Definitely,” she agreed.

“Yeah?”

“You’re the smartest person I know, Bri - you’re going to ace the test,” she promised. Brian chuckle a little, his heart swelling with adoration and he ducked down to press his lips to one cheek, then the other.

Before he could pull away again, Y/N caught his face in her small hands, her palms resting on his cheeks.

“Kiss me?” She asked, her original shyness coming back as she spoke her words, though Brian grinned and nodded.

“I’d love to,”

The kiss was soft and innocent, a brushing of lips and a bumping of noses but it left the two of them grinning insanely widely as they stared at one another.

Finally Y/N moved her arms to wrap around his shoulders, tangling in his long curly hair and pulling him back down into a kiss.

“You guys are so cute,” Mary sighed, smiling at the stories as she relaxed back into Freddie’s arms.

“You guys study together?” John asked, raising his brows at him.

“Yeah, used to get quite a lot done,” Brian agreed. He picked up his guitar, just for something to do and moved his fingers back to the tuning pegs, despite knowing it was already tuned.

“You know nothing about English Literature,” Roger pointed out and Brian shrugged.

“I try to learn about it though - it doesn’t matter, she tests me on Astrophysics and she has no idea what half the words even mean,”

“How did your parents react when they met her,”

It was one of the few weekends that Y/N was spending at Brian’s home.

The couple rarely spent time at Brian’s apartment on account of Roger always being there.

Not that Y/N had anything against Roger, it was just that she wasn’t ready to meet all of Brian’s friends, particularly the most outgoing ones such as Roger and Freddie.

But this was one of the few weekends that Roger had gone back to his family to spend time there.

And Brian saw it as a good opportunity to invite his parents down to meet his girlfriend. By this point they had been dating for five months and had even managed to exchange “I love you”’s with one another and it was needless to say that Brian had talked his parents ears off about Y/N.

“Are you sure they’ll like me?” Y/N asked nervously as she bustled around the kitchen, preparing the meal for them to eat. Brian laughed, coming up behind her and kissing her cheek gently.

“Of course they will, love - they’re going to love you,” he promised. Y/N sighed and turned to face him properly.

“I’ve never really met my boyfriend’s parents before,” she admitted, playing with the necklace resting on his chest. Brian gave her an affectionate smile and shook his head.

“You’re going to do amazingly, my love. They already love you anyway,”

“Oh yeah?”

“I love you and that’s enough for them,” Brian promised, kissing her tenderly for a moment before breaking away. “Come on, I’ll set the table,”

When Brian’s parents did arrive, they were swift to pull Y/N into hugs, introducing themselves with their first names and complimenting her on both her appearance and how the food smelt delicious.

Brian held Y/N’s hand under the table all through the meal, squeezing it tightly whenever he could sense her nerves, though they seemed to quickly dissipitate once her and his father got onto the conversation of their favourite Shakespeare plays - arguing over who the best villain was (Harold thought Don John whereas Y/N insisted that Richard III was far more complex and misunderstood and was therefore a better villain as a result of his complex reasonings and lack of any other personality traits) and seeing her getting along so well with his family made his heart beat out of his chest.

When they left that night, Brian’s mum invited Y/N to come stay with them in a couple of weeks time when Brian was coming up, insisting that they had to get to know each other better.

“I told you they’d love you,” Y/N let out a sigh of relief and allowed herself to fall back into Brian’s embrace.

“That was the most stressful dinner of my entire adult life,” she informed him.

“Excuse me, Brian? There’s someone here who says they know you?” Brian frowned at the man and stood up, walking over to the door. “A Y/H/C woman, she was quite shy and said that she was your girlfriend?” Brian completely lit up at that and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, yeah of course! I’ll be right there!” Brian grinned, before turning back to his band mates. “I’ll be ready to play I promise,” was all he said before moving out into the main area of the pub.

It didn’t take him long to locate Y/N because, a soon as he exited the backstage area, Y/N flew towards him and hugged him as tight as she could. Brian gave a laugh of delight and returned the affection, nestling his face in her hair and breathing deeply.

“You came!”

“Of course I did, Bri,” Y/N laughed quietly, looking up at him and then moving to connect their lips together.

“I love you so much,”

“I love you too,” Y/N giggled. Brian looked behind him towards the door through which he had just arrived and bit his lip unsurely before turning back to Y/N.

“Do you want to meet some people?”

#Queen #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody cast #Brian May #brian may fanfiction #brian may fluff #brian may fan #brian may fanfic #brian may fic #brian may imagine #brian may imagines #brian may x reader #brian may x y/n #not a request

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artnerd1123 · 5 years ago

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A Familiar World

Play Nice, Boys! (Aiden Version) ——————————————

New places, new faces, and a new place to call home! That’s what Aiden and Roo were expecting when they walked into a new town. However, they may have gotten more than they bargained for with this new apartment…

The masterpost for AFW can be found here. The chapter post for AFW can be found here.

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(note: this is a repost bc I updated and changed some stuff!)

a much awaited chapter, at least on my end, where aiden and journal first meet!!! this one’s from Aiden’s perspective. Journal’s persepective of this is back in the chapter post, right above this one!

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“Are we theah yet…?” “Almost, Roodle. Just a little farther! And I promise we’ll be settling in for awhile.” Mewling tiredly, the little cat familiar bonked his head against his originator’s. The latter let out a soft ‘oof’ of protest. Roo and Aiden had been travelling nonstop for a week. Today, Aiden had allowed his familiar to ride on his shoulders. It was the least he could do for the little guy. His horribly achy paws weren’t exactly made to walk for miles on end. Aiden hadn’t felt any calls to small expeditions lately. He had a feeling it was related to his growing desire to find the root of all the recent dark magic outbreaks. It was nearing the time of his final quest, and he wanted somewhere for he and Roo to come home to after it was over. The nearest place he’d been able to snag was a two bedroom apartment. He’d been told there was nobody else moved in yet to help with the cost, but he didn’t mind. It’d be more than enough space for he and his familiar to live comfortably until a roommate showed up. But before one tackles the glamour, there’s a whole lotta tracking through dust. “How much longer?” Roo whined sulkily. “Just a little farther,” Aiden repeated wearily. He sighed, hefting his bag and Roo higher. “The town should be around here somewhere- ah!” A few buildings had begun peeking through the trees. He perked up at the sight. “There, see? What’d I tell you?” He picked up his pace. The sooner they got onto those streets, the better. “Mnnh…” “IIII know… hang in there, bud…”

Striding into the new town was... an experience, to say the least. For one thing, it looked much bigger than it had on the map. And not just because everything was to scale. Aiden couldn’t recall being in someplace that called itself a ‘town,’ but stretched on and turned in on itself so many times it could’ve been a city. The questor glanced around as they passed marketplace stalls, stores, and various restaurants. Plenty of people were out and about on the streets. A few of them even gave him a friendly wave. The place certainly seemed alive, he’d give it that. Alive in a… non town-ish way, he thought, raising a brow at the stream of enough people to fill a village billowing out of a nearby bar. Then again, he was definitely a countryside kind of guy. What did he know about big towns? In any case, he’d make it work. The apartments here were said to be some of the nicest around. He hoped his sources were right. Continuing on down the street, someone else was busy sightseeing. Roo glanced about from his perch on Aiden’s back, taking in the unfamiliar expanse of people, paths, and ramshackle buildings. It was all so much… so new… and so… different from everything else he’d been around. The wide eyed paint feline shivered a little. Curling up behind Aiden’s head, he mewled softly. Aiden winced as the little guy’s claws poked against his scalp. “Heyyy- hey- you’re ok, bud-” he whispered, reaching back to pat him. “The apartment building is ahead of us on the right. We’re nearly there.” Roo just meowed shakily. Aiden walked a little faster. Pushing open the apartment building’s door, he nearly stumbled into a small group of travelers. “Oh-! Revaew, I’m sorry,” he sputtered. They just gave him a look before turning back to their conversation. It seemed the whole place was teeming with people. Obviously, he and roo weren’t the only individuals in need of a place to stay. Glad I paid ahead of time. Carefully edging into the room, Aiden took Roo down from his shoulders. He knew the little cat wouldn’t take kindly to large number of pushing and shoving people in here. He let him wiggle inside of his cloak. A relieved sigh followed soon after. Aiden gave the lump under his cloak a pat. Scanning the room for someone in charge, the questor’s eyes caught on the apartments’ clerk. The poor man up at the front desk looked swamped, overworked, and badly in need of a nap. Aiden felt sorry for him. Better make this quick, for his sake. Making sure he wasn’t cutting anyone off, he made his way over to the desk. “One moment, please,” the frazzled clerk called. He quickly snagged a small sack of coins and a set of keys from the couple in front of them. As they moved off, he shouted “NEXT PLEASE!” hoarsely. Aiden sidled up into place. “Busy weekend?” Aiden asked, smiling sympathetically. “Oh, you’ve got no idea. It seems every adventurer in the region decided to stop by,” the clerk groaned. He took the pause in business to slump and rub his face. “I’ve barely been able to keep all my rentals straight.” “Sorry to hear it.” Aiden glanced back at the room behind him; plenty of the inhabitants looked like fellow questors. They weren’t exactly known for settling in one place for long. It must’ve been a migration season… or maybe another dungeon cropped up nearby… “I’ll try and make your job a little easier— I rented a room for my familiar and I a couple days ago? An empty two bedroom apartment? It should be under the name Pingere.” “Right- yes, thank you, let me check-“ A minute of shuffling papers later, the clerk nodded. “Yep- I’ve got you down right here.” He snapped, a key appearing in a flash of orange sparks. He thrust it hastily into Aiden’s hand. “Here’s your room key. It’s the only way you’ll be getting into your room if nobody’s at the desk. Please let me know if something’s still messy in there— I haven’t been able to clean all the rooms lately- NEXT PLEASE!” And with that, Aiden was shoved away from the desk. It was a wonder he didn’t get lifted up over everyone else. He squeezed his way through the room and over to the staircase. Taking a moment to breathe, he felt something shift under his cloak. An indigo head poked itself out. “P-please tell me we a-ain’t goin anywheah that s-smushy again,” Roo whimpered, clinging to Aiden. The questor heaved a long sigh. Looks like they’d both be getting used to the closeness of town life. He gave his familiar a couple soothing strokes. “I’ll try and avoid crowded buildings, bud,” he said, “but I can’t promise no crowds. We’re in a town full of em.” Roo seemed to shrink down at the information. “Mnnn…” Aiden sighed. “Hey, how about we go check out our room? We can hang out there for the rest of the day. I’d say we’ve earned it.” Roo hesitated, considering the option. It would afford him a break from crowds, strangers, and also score some more quality time with Aiden. He nodded decisively. “I wanna test out the beds,” he joked timidly. Aiden smiled. “That’s the spirit,” he chuckled, ruffling Roo’s fur. “Let’s go take a look at our new home.” Roo beamed, wiggling out of Aiden’s arms. “Race yeh there!!!” Aiden grinned. “Oh, you’re on.”

One race up the staircase later, the two stood panting in front of their door. “It’s- hghh- r-room 213, right?” Roo panted. He was leaned against his originator’s leg. Aiden glanced down at their key, taking a few deep breaths. The room number, 213, shone in a soft orange light from it. Nodding, he reached to unlock the door. “Yup… this should be the-“ He paused. The key had gone in, but he didn’t feel the distinctive click of the lock unlocking. He frowned. “... w… what’s wrong?” “... the door was already unlocked.” Roo stood up straighter. Fidgeting warily, he glanced around. “M… maybe the last person heah forgot to lock it…?” He offered hesitantly. Aiden raised a brow. “Maybe. The clerk looked like he hadn’t had any time to get away from the counter, so it’s possible he hadn’t checked.” Well, locked or unlocked, this was their room. He let out a sigh. “We’ll just go in. If it’s a mess, he said to tell him.” Aiden gave the handle a twist. The door swung open with a soft creak. Light spilled out into the hallway. The place looked uninhabited at first, but the black cloak tossed over the couch and muffled sounds of furniture being dragged around didn’t enforce the view. The pair shared a glance. Apparently they had a roommate after all. And nobody had decided to inform them before they paid in full. Hmm. Alright. I better get to the bottom of this. The two walked slowly into the living room. Walking inside made the scraping and scuffing sounds louder. When Roo held up his paws, Aiden lifted him up without a word. His eyes slid over the doorways to the kitchen and hall. The noises were from down the hallway. He guessed it was from one of the bedrooms. A glance showed one of the doors was open. There. Hopefully a quick talk would get all this straightened out. He started down the hall. Roo shivered a bit, and Aiden gently stroked his fur. “‘S alright, bud,” he whispered. “This shouldn’t take too long.” At the sound of approaching footsteps, the furniture scraping stopped. Whoever was in the room muttered confusedly to themself. “... uh… hello?” Aiden called. There was a flurry of scrambling in the room— as if the occupant was startled— and their voice sounded off louder. “What in Revaew’s web-?!” A head poked out from behind the door. Aiden was surprised to see an older teen. He couldn’t have been more than 18 or 19. Moving out age, yes, but renting an apartment like this alone? Not a common move. And the dull purplish bruise adorning his cheek was… a little concerning. The stranger’s wary turquoise eyes shifted over the pair in front of him. He reached up to brush a lock of brown hair out of his face. “... um… can I… help you?” He asked slowly. Roo squirmed nervously under the stranger’s gaze. The little cat never did well around strangers. Aiden cleared his throat, letting Roo wiggle back under his cloak. “Er… yes, I believe so. You’re living in room two thirteen?” Aiden asked hesitantly. “Yyyyyes…? I bought it a week ago,” the stranger answered hesitantly, gaze flicking over the questor again. Wariness and confusion laced across his features. Aiden didn’t blame him. “Alright. Well, I’m… sorry if you weren’t informed, but Roo and I are your new roommates,” he explained. “I wasn’t… uh… told you’d moved in. Or I would’ve knocked.” That information seemed to shake the stranger up a bit. Straightening up, his brows furrowed. “What-? I- really? So soon?” he sputtered. “Sorry if you weren’t expecting it,” Aiden said gently, “I’m sure we can wait a day if you need time to-” “No- no, you- that’s not the problem!” The stranger broke in. He huffed in annoyance, running a hand through his curly hair. “You two shouldn’t- this can’t be right. I was told I would have this place to myself for at least a month or two!” “Hey- hey, it’ll be alright,” Aiden tried, holding up a hand. “We can get all this sorted out. Maybe there was some miscommunication issue.” As soon as he said it though, he realized that wasn’t believable. No landlord would promise that sort of thing and not tell their tenant about new roommates. At least, not an honest one. “But I paid for this room in full! On my own!” the stranger cried. “I never would’ve done that if I’d known you’d be here so soon!” “That’s… that’s what we paid for, too,” Aiden said slowly. “And nobody told me this place already had someone moving in.” “I… I… ghhhh...” the stranger seemed to deflate. He put a hand to his forehead. “What the hell. I do not need this right now.” “That’s how I’m feeling about this,” Aiden replied. He rubbed his face, fingers scratching against his short beard, and let out a long sigh. This was more than a mix up. Someone had duped the two of them into spending more money than they had to, for a room without a roommate that had clearly already shown up. And, from the looks of how much desperate and frustrated muttering his new roommate was doing, it wasn’t money that could just be thrown away. And that made him more than a little annoyed at the whole situation. “Hey, tell you what,” Aiden spoke up suddenly, “how about we go down and talk to the clerk? I’m sure I can get him to give us back half what we both paid.” The stranger glanced over at him in surprise. Uncertainty and aggravation warred with nervous hope for a place on his face. “... are you sure...?” he asked a little bluntly. It was clear he didn’t quite trust his new roommate yet, but the out of the blue offer… well. It had given him something to stand on. “I’m sure,” Aiden said firmly, gesturing to the door. “Someone needs to sort out this mess anyways, hm?” “... yeah… yeah. ok,” the stranger sighed. “Let’s… do this. Or whatever.” “Alright. Hopefully this won’t take too long.”

————

It was half an hour before they could get ahold of the clerk. Roo was up in the room, the two humans deciding to leave him out of the- frankly quite stressful- situation. Standing in front of the desk, they watched as the clerk frantically flicked through his paperwork. “Roommates- I swear I didn’t- ohhh, where did I put those records-?!” The clerk stammered worriedly. Aiden sighed softly. Even if he was annoyed, he knew that the clerk at the desk probably wasn’t in charge of selling the rooms. “It’s alright, just take your time. We’re fine,” the questor said gently. The stranger at his side shot him a look. It was obvious he didn’t share the same opinion on that last remark. “What were your names again?” The clerk asked miserably. “I’m so sorry. They’ve slipped my mind.” “Aiden Pingere. It may be in as just Pingere, I forget which.” “Theo- I mean- Journal. Journal Drapht.” “Thank you. One moment...” The clerk waved his hands, a soft orange mist appearing over his papers. He muttered under his breath as Aiden and the stranger, Journal, watched on. … huh. Journal. Now that’s an interesting name if I ever heard one. Like an alias. But what would a youngster be doing with an alias? Or his own apartment? Or a bruise that looked more and more like a handprint on his cheek? Was he in some sort of trouble? Aiden snuck a curious glance at his companion. Journal had his arms crossed now. He really looked on edge. On edge and lost in anxious thought. Like a scared kid. … Exactly like a scared kid. That look was what really got Aiden to settle how he felt about Journal. Trouble or no trouble, he hated to see that sort of look. He felt worried for him. However, just as he went to ask if he was alright, the clerk straightened up. Both of them looked to him expectantly. “Aha, right here! I’ve got your records.” The clerk paused. “... and it… it does say you were both sold room 213. Oh dear.” Aiden let out a loud sigh. Journal swore under his breath. “You’re serious? Isn’t there anything you can do to fix that?!” Journal asked helplessly. Aiden tried to give him a steadying glance. Freaking out right now wouldn’t help. His fellow just gave him a desperate gesture in return. “Both of us paid for a room without a roommate already moved in!” “Is there another room one of us could take?” Aiden inquired. “Some place else one of us could stay?” “I’m afraid not,” the clerk replied awkwardly. “All other rooms are sold out all for at least the next few months. You’ll just have to keep the room you bought together.” “Oh Revaew…” Aiden muttered. “Months…?” Journal echoed weakly. Aiden could tell from the way Journal’s hand strayed to his pockets that his earlier money suspicion was right. And, in his own world of troubles, he doubted he’d be able to hunt down another open apartment with all the questor rush. Well. That left just one thing to do. Fixing the clerk with a stern but understanding look, he spoke again. “Listen, I don’t know if your superior planned this or not, but neither of us should’ve paid that much. Do you think you can help us out a bit?” “I- uh- maybe- dep- depends on what you want?” the clerk stammered uncertainly. Evidently, he wasn’t used to such upfront questions with a ‘no refunds’ sign on the desk. Or, probably, from a man like himself. “I’d like you to halve the amount we both paid, and give us back what we’re owed,” he said simply. The clerk blinked. Journal gave him a surprised look. Aiden looked back at the clerk calmly and firmly. “It’s only right, wouldn’t you think?” he asked gently. “I… uh… I suppose…” the clerk mumbled. Glancing around nervously, he tapped his pencil on his records paper. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can-?” “Sir, please. I promise we won’t bother you again.” As the clerk gave a defeated sigh, Aiden couldn’t help but overhear a grumbled ‘no promises’ from Journal. He raised a brow, but the sorcerer didn’t notice. Thankfully, it didn’t take the clerk nearly as long to rewrite their records and hand over the gold they were owed. When it was all over, the two gave each other an uncertain look. “... welp. Guess we better go get settled in,” Aiden said hesitantly. “... right,” Journal huffed sulkily. “You don’t touch my stuff, I won’t touch yours.” “Ooookay then… fair enough.” And with that, Journal turned on his heel and left for the stairs. Aiden watched after him for a moment. His new roommate was… quite touchy. What had he just gotten himself into?

#afw chapter #afw #a familiar world #my story #arty writes #aiden pingere #roo pingere #journal sherman drapht #i had this finished like;;; two weeks ago;;; i'm only posting it now bc i'm horrible at waiting and wanna get more proper content out sldkjf #and hey!!! this is a plot point!!! an important one!!! we actually have these two meeting n interacting in a drabble!!!#truly an amazing feat :V #lskdjfssl joking aside; i'm still working on the journal one #he's just gotten to town as of this posting but i'm workin on it lskjdfs #hope u enjoy confused paint dad instantly deciding to adopt the first kid who looks like he needs to be taken under someone's wing XD #pfft #h ok tags copied and we're fine nwo sldkfjsldf--

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jordan102791 · 5 years ago

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Velvet Lace part 7

"All right, kitty. You have an appointment with the vet this afternoon, but you'll have to come into work with me first. Think you can behave?" Her mind swirled with thoughts of monotonous tapping on computer keys. Her shoved into a cramped carrier while he flipped through pages of memos and paperwork; unjamming the printer and filling the toner in mechanical silence. Frankly, the idea already had her bored half to tears.

"I don't have a carrier," her ears perked up as the day started looking brighter at his words. "I can carry you in a bag, but you're gonna need to cooperate with me. It'll probably be more comfortable than carrying you in my coat like before. Think we can make that work?" She mewed a reassurance, brushing her cheek to his pant leg. "Okay, you have a choice. Duffle bag or back pack?"

A black snake coiled and flickered the air,moseying closer to inspect. While a valiant effort had been made to clean both, a sharp whiff reveal the tangy breeze of sweat and man after the gym from the duffle bag. Effectively making the decision for her. Pouncing into the backpack, her serpentine tail the only thing still keeping her from disappearce. She turns around and sits down, peeking golden eyes over the zipper at the man.

"I'm gonna zip it a bit, just to make sure you don't fall out. But I promise I won't close it. Trust me?" A meow. Her head popping down into the bag, pulling herself far from the closure to keep her fur safe from snagging. Light shimmered in a spotlight, grazing her whiskers. Amber orbs glowing in the dimness. "All set. Ready to go?" A midnight face poking throught the opening. Strong hands jostling the bag to strap it to his chest. She hadn't thought about it before, but she was glad he wore the bag this way so it was easier for her to watch where they went as he set out down the sidewalk.

Gold weaved through the air on the back of fairies buzzing past. The brisk breeze warmed in their wake. The dim clouds quaking. Afraid of being singed in the light. Windows glistened in the bricked frames as they passed by. The trip was a bit longer than she expected he would've chosen to walk, but not overly so. Her mind flashed back to his naked upper half the night before, and deemed if the lower half matched perhaps this had a part in it, and would surely not complain.

A hand painted window came into view. Colors swirled and collided and crashed like the sea across the glass. The work had obviously taken quite a bit of time and been well preserved. Lettering was often harder than it seemed. She'd seen many take lessons in calligraphy back home and only a few could have been considered truly gifted at it. Whomever had done this work sure could have been one of them. Josh turned, wrenching the door beside the window opened. A tinkling spoke on the air, louder when the door caught on the uneven pavement.

"Josh! How's it going?" A deeper voice boomed from behind a small counter. A graying man stood straight, age having not hunched him over yet, but perhaps only a few years off. He appeared far narrower than someone she would have attributed his voice too, but definitely still healthy. Crinkles graced around his eyes and mouth radiating a kindness leagues deep.

"Hey, Quinn. I'm doing all right. How about you, man? Been a busy morning?"

"About the same as usual. Customers here and there," he answered coming around the counter. "And who do we have here? This the lovely lady you told me about over the phone?" The older man lifting his hand for her to sniff. She didn't even need to, he already felt like a good one off the bat, a rumble coming up from her chest as she stroked her face against his worn soft hand.

"Yep, this is her. We'll check her out at the vet later, see if she has an owner. Though with how dirty she was, I kinda doubt it."

Quinn unzipped the bag as he listened, pulling her out and cuddling her to his chest. His aura exuding peace from every orifice. Her eyes closed, nuzzling down into his palms. "I don't know who would let such a beautiful soul go, but they must be fools, the lot of them."

"You two seem comfortable. Are you sure it's cool if she hangs out with us today?"

"Absolutely, you can bring her in as the bookstore office cat everyday if you'd like. You know I don't get much animal time at home. Steven being allergic and all that. But here he can't stop me," he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"How's he doing?" The conversation wavered off into the void as she took in her surroundings. A bookstore. So this was what he did. It was modest size, with what looked to be a second level up a spiral staircase. She hadn't pinned this as being where he'd work. She wasn't sure why bc in the time she'd known him this felt like a good match. The dark cinnamon stained floors and shelves were the focal point, after the rainbowed colors of the spines lining each shelf. Rich colors of evergreens with the dark sun peeking just over ridge. Dark, but not cold. A warm home with a fire lit in the hearth, logs crackling releasing fireflies into the air. That's how her sould felt in this foreign place, singing to her heart. A home.

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