#but its so much more funnier to think they all have brown eyes and them theres lloyd and zane

[kindaasrikal]

Imagine Zane with his “I am looking straight into your soul, picking apart every secret and thought that weighs in your mind and darkens your heart” blue eyes, and Lloyd with his “staring deeply into the depths of the abyss of your being, viewing every little puzzle piece that puts you together with a disregard of the overall image” green eyes staring at you. Terrifying, especially when the other ninja are likely to all have brown eyes.

[childrenofcain-if]

That scenario with D and MC having an argument while being long distance has me thinking how it'd go for them to spend time together at the farm? Especially for a spoiled MC who has never done any farm work 🤣

What would D's reaction be while they're complaining that there's dirt on their hands and their $1000 branded shoes, almost having a stroke when they step into fresh cow shit. I do think at the end my MC would try to adjust and even try to bond with the farm animals because they love D too much to do otherwise

the diaconu’s farmhouse looked like something out of a postcard, except for the way the air smelled—earthy and alive, undercut with the tang of manure.

it was sprawled out across rolling fields of tall grass, speckled with wildflowers, and the old oak trees loomed like sentinels guarding the quiet. the house itself had been scrubbed clean of its former dilapidation—new paint on the weathered boards, the wraparound porch gleaming like something out of a country living magazine. it was picturesque, serene, but utterly foreign to you.

and while it was all beautiful, sure, you couldn’t stop glaring at your brand new louboutins.

“oh my god, do you know how much these cost?” you said for what felt like the hundredth time, holding up one leg to inspect the damage. the soles were caked with mud, the once-pristine leather now streaked with grime. “this is disgusting. why would you bring me here? why did i let you bring me here?”

D laughed, the sound as bright as sunlight off metal. “you could’ve worn boots like i told you to.”

“boots wouldn’t have helped,” you muttered, pulling at a loose clump of dirt. “this whole place is a death trap for footwear.”

D, who was busy tying a tarp over a stack of hay bales, grinned at you over their shoulder. their gunmetal gray eyes twinkled and their brown hair caught the light just so. they looked unfairly gorgeous for someone who’d spent the last half-hour shoveling hay. “you’ll survive, city slicker.”

“i’m not a city slicker,” you shot back, crossing your arms.

“oh yeah, sweet cheeks? when’s the last time you touched dirt on purpose?”

you opened your mouth to argue, but then there was a squelch.

D froze, looking down at their boot, which was firmly planted in a pile of fresh cow manure. you froze too, horrified on their behalf, until D burst into laughter.

“oh my god,” you said, positively freaking out. “oh my god. i think i’m going to die. get me out of here!”

“it’s just cow shit,” D said, still laughing as they scraped their boot against a patch of grass. “relax.”

“relax?” you said, incredulous. “that’s easy for you to say. you’re used to this. i’m an innocent witness. a victim.”

D shook their head, their smile as unbothered as the wind brushing through the fields. “you’ve never been funnier, you know that?”

“is that a real chicken?!”

***

the first few days were hard.

you complained constantly—about the bugs, the heat, the chores that D somehow convinced you to help with.

milking a cow turned out to be more terrifying than you’d anticipated, and the chickens seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

you refused to wear anything other than your designer clothes, which only made everything worse, and every time you got dirt under your nails, you threatened to call an uber back to civilization.

D, for their part, took it all in stride. they teased you mercilessly but never in a way that felt mean.

when you were the one who accidentally stepped in cow shit the first time and started screaming loud enough for people to hear you in the nearby city, they laughed so hard they had to sit down, but later, they cleaned your shoes without you even asking.

“this place is cursed,” you said one evening, collapsing onto the porch swing after a particularly grueling day. your arms ached, your hair was a mess, and there was a smudge of grease on your jeans.

D sat down beside you, their face glowing with the kind of happiness that only came from being somewhere you truly belonged.

“it’s not cursed,” they said, leaning back and looking out at the horizon. “you’re just not used to it yet.”

“that’s an understatement, rook. i grew up in air-conditioned luxury. i’m not built for this life.”

they laughed again, soft and affectionate. “maybe not, but you’re doing better than i thought you would.”

you shot them a skeptical look. “that’s not exactly a compliment.”

“it is when you think about how pampered you are.”

“excuse me?”

“i mean it in the nicest way,” they said, holding up their hands in mock surrender. “you’re trying. that’s what matters.”

you wanted to argue, but the sincerity in their voice stopped you. instead, you muttered, “i’m only trying because i love you.”

D’s smile was so wide it felt like it could split the sky. “i love you too, my gorgeous city slicker.”

***

as the days went on, you found yourself adjusting in ways you hadn’t expected.

you stopped flinching at the sight of dirt, started remembering to wear the boots D bought for you instead of your ruined designer shoes. you even began to enjoy some of the chores—not because they were fun, but because they made D happy, and seeing D happy made everything else worth it.

you bonded with the animals, too, though it took time. the cows were less terrifying when you realized how gentle they could be, and the chickens stopped pecking at you quite so viciously.

one particularly stubborn goat, marcus, became your unlikely favorite, and D teased you endlessly about how you’d started sneaking it extra treats.

“see?” they said one afternoon, watching as you scratched the goat’s ears. “told you you’d come around.”

“don’t get cocky,” you replied, but there was no real bite to your words.

but as much as you still grumbled and complained, there was something magnetic about D’s ease. the way they moved through this place—like the land and the air knew them—made you feel like an outsider in the best way.

you followed them around reluctantly, watching as they worked with a kind of practiced motions, securing gates, checking on animals, tinkering with an old pickup truck parked under a tree.

it was easy to forget, sometimes, that they’d lived a whole life before you. that this farmhouse and these fields had been theirs long before san francisco, long before yale.

they’d told you about it before—about summers spent baling hay and feeding chickens, about the farmhands who taught them to swear in three different languages—but the reality of it hit different.

***

D watched you from a distance one day as you were petting one of the fluffy, brown highland cows, their hands busy under the hood of the pickup truck but their eyes constantly flickering to where you stood.

they weren’t sure what they’d expected when they brought you here for the summer—maybe for you to complain the whole time, maybe for you to hate it—but seeing you with the cows, with dirt on your hands and dirty boots, felt like something they hadn’t let themself hope for.

when they glanced at the flatbed of the truck, their gaze landed on the pair of gloves you’d both left there earlier. their gloves, worn and patched in places, were next to yours, which were new but now had slight smudges of mud. something about the sight made D pause.

this place had always been a piece of them, something they couldn’t forget no matter how far away they moved. but seeing you here, trying despite yourself, made it feel like something new. like it wasn’t just theirs anymore.

you glanced up, catching their eye. “what?” you asked, brushing your hands off on your jeans.

D shook their head, their smile softening. “nothing. this summer has just been full of surprises.”

you walked over, brushing a stray piece of hay off your sweater. “well, don’t get used to it. this is a one-time thing.”

“sure it is,” D said, their smile widening.

the sun was starting to set, casting the fields in gold and pink. you sat beside D on the edge of the flatbed, watching as the cows wandered back toward the barn.

“this place is beautiful,” you said finally, your voice softer than before.

D nodded, their gaze fixed on the horizon. “yeah. it really is.”

you hesitated, then reached out, your hand brushing against theirs. “i can see the appeal now. at least a little.”

D turned to look at you, their expression unreadable but warm. “thanks for being here with me.”

“thanks for not laughing at me when i screamed about the dirt during the first day here,” you replied, trying to lighten the mood.

“i mean, i definitely laughed,” D said, their grin breaking through. “but i’ll pretend i didn’t, for your sake.”

you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that broke through your lips.

***

for D, this really was a dream.

they told you about it during your last night together at the farmhouse as you sat on the porch, watching the fireflies dance in the twilight. the air was warm and sweet, and for once, you weren’t thinking about the dirt under your nails or the soreness in your muscles.

“i used to think about this place all the time,” they said, their voice quiet. “when i was a kid, it was like... like magic. i loved it so much. i never wanted to leave.”

“and now?” you asked, leaning against their shoulder.

“now it’s even better,” they said, turning their gray gaze towards you. “because you’re here.”

you looked at them, startled by the honesty in their tone. “even though i’m a spoiled brat sometimes who whines about everything?”

D laughed, pressing a soft kiss against your lips. “even then. especially then.”

[fluffypotatey]

"I collar the beast." "Wukong's fangs have been pulled." I can't believe y'all fr. "I get all the punishment and you get to mope." He was moping because he cares and feels guilty, speaking of, THE BINDING SCENE IS SO MUCH MORE INTENSE HERE WUKONG'S SCREAM THE PANICKED STUMBLING ohoho yes. MK: "It's tense in here." Wukong, two seconds ago: yOU tHINK I wANtED tO bE trAPPED dOWN hErE wiTH yOU. Wukong's tail: *cute pokey pokey* "You got demoted!" Ha, also "Nezhy" Oh my gosh, I don't think I caught this last time but Wukong subtly looks over to Macaque who just nods at him ajksms they were feuding and glooming a second ago but now its all silent communication and understanding in a glance. I'm throwing them off a roof. I'm struggling to hear what Macky says here, but I'm going to subscribe to the subtitles with "he likes acting." It's funnier. Also MK's "best attorney monkeys can buy" gotta love thinking about monkeys needing attorneys and also having money and buying things lol. "A pain crab on Monkey King's head." 😭 "Why is it always like this when you come here." actually love this one more because he's so grumpy and I feel like it has a different, funnier implication than the subtitles. he isn't causing chaos AFTER coming here, it just IS. what does that say about the vibes you bring /j. crying at Macky's face at all times, he is the picture definition of a grumpy cat, and then when getting pushed and the absolutely DONE yell of "Wukoooong!" I can watch a whole netflix series of Macky being fed up with Wukong's antics but getting dragged into them. tricky plan demon huh, that's a quick way to silence them after just talking about someone pulling the strings, especially on you MK. also Macky is SO little creachure with his face hidden like a hermit in that cape. "I don't trust anyone who isn't standing here. Right. Now." SAME MACONDO what a shocking statement from your old buddy. more at 11 only on ShadowPeachNews. The writers KNEW what they were doing. Also AHHHHH *looks at you with my big brown eyes* Fluffy I SWEAR I told myself I wouldn't talk about this again until you were able to answer the asks on my last yapping about this, BUT THEY MADE IT SO MUCH WORSE. Firstly, Macky's *voice* for that line delivery is the most solemn dramatic thing I have seen. He lives and breathes the cinema. AND MK I'm really tossing him over a cliff because he just HAD TO GO "He'd get away, right? He always gets away...right?" UGH TFW YOU'RE SO KNOWN FOR BEING THAT GUY WHO FLEES FROM BATTLE that it's brought up this time not for the *dude really???* but as a plea, an attempt at faith, haha he's always doing that...he did it again right? NO BECAUSE THIS TIME HE STUCK AROUND TO FIGHT. and Wukong's constipated expression there bc ohoho some monkey is for sure thinking about the past.

i am, for one, with you on throwing shadowpeach off a cliff bc they make me so unwell in this episode 🫠

for another:

LI JING WHEN I GET YOU!!!!! HOW DARE YOU CALL WUKONG A BEAT AND PULL HIS FANGS!!!!

also i can’t help but think about why Nezha was even there in the first place. because the one the kings summoned was his dad. Nezha wasn’t supposed to be there and yet he comes along 👀 why? my thought is: to plead the monkeys’ case. he immediately tries to defend them to his father and it seems like it’s been an ongoing argument

like sure he rags on Wukong and hems & hahs at him because like have you met Wukong that cheeky lil shit??? his gremlin energy just shoots to 150% whenever Nezha is near. he can’t help it. it’s his DO NOT PUSH red button that he will absolutely push

and Macky’s “why is it always like this when you’re here” to Wukong has such a divorced energy i love it 😍 he knows Wukong so well and is just resigned to it. every time Macky has had to interact with Heaven, Wukong is always there making a scene (he’s not exempt to helping swk but his point still stands lmao)

Wukong’s pout, my beloved

when your ex says the reason he’s mopey isn’t because you got hurt but because he is in jail with you for something you’ve been blamed for. echoing his “NOT THE GREAT SAGE! HE’S GOTTA DRAG EVERYONE INTO HIS MESS!” comment from the memory scroll 👀

what who said that lol that was weird

god they’re so— squishes them and squishes them and squishes them and squishes them and squishes them and squishes them and squishes them and

[quaranmine]

New World, New Faces

When the hermits moved to their new world, they were excited to welcome two new members. But maybe one is an old friend instead . . .

Grian hasn't seen Pearl since Evo. It's a shock.

No romantic relationships or content warnings. Mainly emotional hurt/comfort, but probably more emphasis on comfort. Hermits: Grian, Pearl, and Mumbo primarily with a little bit of Scar and Xisuma as well. Reblogs appreciated and AO3 link in reblog!

Words: 3893

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

These days, Grian was pleased to say that the Watcher’s didn’t occupy his mind nearly as often as they used to. Except on certain late nights where he lay in bed and thought of before, his time was mostly spent having fun--scheming, pranking, building, planning, mining, laughing with friends. It wasn’t something he could forget, but the hermits had become his new home, and as years passed the edges of those memories had dulled a bit.

The other times where the Watchers occupied his mind were update days. Since joining hermitcraft, Grian had gone through several updates with the rest of the server. Sometimes they moved to a new world, and sometimes they stayed in their old one. No portals of bedrock ever appeared, but Grian always thought of them just the same. It always felt like maybe, just maybe, one day he’d turn around and see their signature portals once again.

Watchers didn’t always leave portals to update worlds. Grian hadn’t known that until he’d been put to work as a Watcher himself. Oh, the Watchers were still in charge of updating worlds, but they often did it more subtly, without grand towers and quests for portals. It’s hard to retain status as a myth when everyone knows your calling card, afterall. Admins always knew when it was time to update. Grian hadn't, back on Evo, because he’s always been told.

It turned out Evo had been different, and Grian didn’t know how to feel about that. Evo wasn’t the only world to receive special attention from the Watchers, but it was one of their favorites. Why them, though? Why did the Watchers keep such a close eye on their world in particular? Why were they left towers and clues and prizes and punishments, when other servers were mostly left alone?

Why did they kill everyone and kidnap Grian?

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Grian stood in a group with the other hermits, eagerly waiting for the move to the new world. He bounced a little in anticipation. He was excited for the new update--he knew very little about its contents, but it seemed like there would be some new building blocks to play with, according to Xisuma.

He already had plans for the new world--new bases and new shenanigans. Grian was excited to build close to his friends. Xisuma had informed them that another update would come in a few months, and for the hermits to stick close in the time being so that new land would be freed up for the coming update. Grian had already known about the second update for a while, as all Watchers do, but he let Xisuma handle all of this as admin. Those days were behind him, now, and there was no reason to start exercising Watcher powers in a world that was carrying on just fine on its own.

“Is everyone ready?” Xisuma shouted over the chatter, trying to do a headcount. “Hey!” he shouted, trying to get everyone’s attention. Slowly, the chatter quieted.

“Looks like it,” said Iskall.

“Good,” Xisuma said. “Now, before we go, I wanted to remind you that we have two new people joining us this time. I’ve already made arrangements with them prior so they’re gonna be waitin’ for us when we go through.” He grinned. “Be on your best behavior for me, alright?”

“I’m always on my best behavior,” Keralis replied, and Xisuma rolled his eyes fondly.

Grian smiled, remembering his welcome to hermitcraft a few years ago. Unlike this time, nobody had been expecting him. Grian hadn’t been invited like these two new hermits had been, he had just been there when the hermits arrived on their new world. None of the other hermits knew quite why he was there, but they’d all accepted him graciously nonetheless.

Grian liked that memory. The truth is, he’d fled the Watchers and picked an uninhabited world at random, not realizing it had already been reserved by Xisuma. That was a failure on his part as a Watcher, because he was supposed to know about stuff like that. But he had been too busy running to worry about it and besides, there was nobody on hermitcraft to punish him.

The hermits had welcomed him with kindness and made him part of their family. Now he’d gladly do the same for these new soon-to-be hermits.

“Okay . . .” Xisuma said, typing something into his admin panel. “I’m just setting up the portal now.”

They were all gathered in the shopping district, right in front of the Town Hall. Grian took his chance to take one last glance around at the world. The diamonds in the trees glittered in the morning light, sending little reflective shards of light scattered on the ground. Moving worlds was always bittersweet, because it meant parting with the things he’d worked hard on and the places he’d made memories at. But it was also one of his favorite things to do, because it gave everyone a blank slate to work with, sparking endless new creativity.

“I wish I could take some of those with me,” chuckled Scar, as he walked up next to where Grian was standing. He pointed at the diamonds.

“Well of course you want them, Mr Mayor!”

“Uh-uh,” Scar said. “I’m not the Mayor anymore! This is a new world.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to see what we get up to in the next one, huh?” Grian asked. “Do you have any plans?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” Scar teased.

“I guess I will.”

“Do you have any plans?”

“I don’t know,” said Grian. He thought for a moment. “I might make a cave base. I guess I’m waiting to see what’s out there for inspiration before I start.”

“Well, I look forward to seeing it,” Scar replied. “Oh! It looks like Xisuma is ready.”

Grian looked up, to see X opening a portal. It wasn’t a nether portal, nor was it like an End portal. It wasn’t a Watcher portal either, but an Admin one. Grian had come to realize that Watchers supplied Admins with the means to move into updates on their own when they wanted to. The bedrock portals and scavenger hunts were reserved for their favorite worlds--their toys.

Sometimes the Watchers liked to flex their powers, but the universe is not kept running smoothly if all your time is spent flexing. Grian brushed away the thought, choosing to focus on his friends in front of him instead.

One by one, the hermits stepped through the portal, which swirled light blue and hovered just slightly off the ground. Grian hung back, wanting to be one of the last ones through. He wanted to make sure everyone made it through alright, but Xisuma had to be the very last person, since he needed to close the portal. When it was finally his turn, he gave Xisuma a smile and walked forward.

Grian stepped through, into the bright sunlight of a village, and was surrounded by the voices of his friends.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

Spawn was a village in a grassland, next to a swamp and overlooking the ocean. It looked a little plain, but the hermits hadn’t left their mark on the world yet. Behind Grian, Xisuma stepped out into the new world and the portal vanished behind him.

Everybody was crowded around a ditch chattering, apparently exchanging greetings with the two new hermits that stood inside it. Grian held back for a moment, taking it in and basking in the sounds of his friends’ voices. Finally, he wasn’t the new one anymore--a few people had rejoined the server in the last world, but they’d all been old friends, not new ones. That had left him being the most recent addition, not that anything felt like it was recent anymore.

Grian was already thinking of ways to prank the new hermits and draw them into the life of the server.

“Alright Mumbo!” Xisuma said. Grian grinned. Mumbo was supposed to introduce them. Mumbo, of course, didn’t know this, because where’s the fun in that?

“Oh-oh me?”

“It’s go time!” Cleo said.

“This is it!” said Xisuma.

“I’ve clearly very obviously been put up to this,” Mumbo started. “And because everyone thought it’d be much funnier to have me bumble through it without really knowing what I’m talking about, and that is definitely going to be the case!”

The hermits chuckled. Grian walked around the back of the group to try to catch a glimpse of the new people below.

“We do have two new hermits,” Mumbo said, “down in this crevice.”

Grian caught a glimpse of red and brown hair.

“GeminiTay-”

Grian’s world stopped and he felt his breath catch in his throat. She had her back to him, but he’d recognize her anywhere. Her brown hair spilled out from behind a black hoodie.

But she’s dead.

Was this some sort of cruel trick from the universe?

“-and PearlescentMoon.” The rest of the hermits cheered at the announcement, giving the new members a warm welcome. Grian said nothing, his mind spinning a mile a minute.

There was no way it was actually her. The Watchers . . . the Watchers had killed her, and every other Evolutionist. Grian didn’t know why. He would never know why, because with the Watchers it was always “you can’t possibly understand.”And Grian couldn’t. When Grian had finally escaped them, he tried to go back to Evo. It was a foolish attempt, one that would certainly have endangered the lives of anyone there, but nobody had been left there and the buildings were all destroyed and overgrown with vines and Grian had been forced to conclude the heavy truth that all of his old friends were gone.

He didn’t remember what he did after that. He just ran.

Before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out of his mouth. “Pearl? Is that really you?”

She turned, hearing her name and--it was. It was her. Her hair had blonde highlights around the bangs now, but he’d recognize her anywhere, like her face and the faces of all the other Evolutionists were seared into his brain.

“. . . Grian?”

Grian just stared.

The other hermits had caught onto their mini debacle, and were watching them. “Grian, do you know her?” Mumbo asked.

“Y-yeah, I do,” he stammered.

“Grian?” Pearl shouted, and in an instant had scrambled up the ditch. She stopped in front of him, face pale and eyes wide, like she’d seen a ghost. Maybe he was a ghost, maybe he’d died the day they took him from Evo.

“Pearl,” he whispered.

Suddenly she threw her arms around Grian in a hug and squeezed. “Oh, it’s been so long,” she said, voice muffled.

Grian froze, but slowly reciprocated the hug. He felt numb and like he wanted to cry and scream at the same time, hands shaking, but Pearl’s warm embrace drew him back down to reality.

Pearl pulled away, blinked tears from her eyes and met Grian’s stare. Then, her gaze drifted further down, landing on his folded wings that peaked out just above his shoulders. Tentatively, she reached out to stroke a feather. “What happened to you?” she asked softly.

“I thought you were dead,” Grian said by way of answer.

“Well, I’m not,” Pearl said, and for a moment Grian almost didn’t believe her, and grabbed her wrist tightly, just to see if it was real. Pearl let him. “They took you,” she said.

Grian just looked at the ground, uncomfortably aware of how many people were watching him. Ironic, almost--he didn’t want them watching him so that they wouldn’t know about the Watchers. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the hermits. He did. He’d trust them all with his life a thousand times. He just . . . didn’t want to explain. The hermits were a good bunch. The unspoken rule was that you didn’t ask about anyone’s past unless they spoke first, and Grian knew they’d abide by that for him as well. But he could do without the turned heads.

“Alright everyone!” Xisuma shouted suddenly, startling Grian. “Let’s go, let’s get to work, this season won’t start itself!” Slowly, the hermits began to disperse, branching off into groups. “How’re ya gonna start the season if you don't chop down a tree? I’ll get to work protecting these villagers.”

Xisuma threw a glance over to them, and Grian mouthed a thank you. Xisuma just nodded, and left them alone. Grian was overwhelmed with relief at the admin’s gesture.

He turned back to Pearl.

“I-I can’t believe you’re actually here,”Grian said. He smiled and the moment he met her gaze, his eyes began to blur with tears.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” she cried. “When we got back from fighting the enderdragon you . . . you were just gone. They left a note for us . . . said it was necessary for you to be taken. All in rhyme, of course.”

“Of course it was in rhyme . . .'' Grian muttered, suddenly very angry. All the Watchers and their unknowable ways, always distilled down to some pithy saying. A life-changing event relayed to his friends in another stupid little poem. He’d written a few himself and despised it.

“I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again. Do you . . . do you mind if I ask what happened?” Pearl asked. “I’m just happy to see you here but I-”

“No, it’s alright,” Grian said with a sigh. “They took me after I fought the enderdragon, and said I was going to be one of them. I didn’t want to go but-well what could I do? So I went with them, and they promised to let me hang around the server. They lied to me, they never let me Watch Evo.” Grian paused, and felt the cool trail of a tear dripping down his cheek. “They later told me you were all dead.”

“Oh, Grian,” Pearl said, and pulled him into another hug, and that was it for him. He began to sob.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out. “It’s just a lot-”

“I know, I know,” she whispered.

“They-they . . . I didn’t enjoy it there. So I, I ran away. I tried to visit Evo but--there was nobody there. I figured they told the truth then, that you really were dead. I ran and found the hermits and I’ve been living with them every since, and oh they’re so wonderful but I could never forget-”

“It’s okay.” Pearl comforted. “I know, I know. We came home after finding the dragon and our place was ransacked, and we were given instructions to leave. And . . . eventually after we left, the group disbanded and we went our separate ways. But, we’re all alive.”

“Really?” Grian asked.

“Yes.”

“Everyone?”

“Yes.”

“Can I- can I see them?” he whispered. It felt forbidden.

“Of course!” Pearl exclaimed. “I’ve kept in touch with everyone, I’m sure Xisuma could help you visit if you asked.”

“Xisuma . . .” Grian thought aloud. “I haven’t told him,” Grian admitted. The admin certainly knew something was up with Grian, because players didn’t normally randomly appear in worlds they weren’t supposed to, but he’d welcomed Grian with open arms to the server and never asked a single question.

“I’m sure he would understand.”

“He would, but Pearl, I don’t want to put anyone in danger! I’m not supposed to be here!” Grian hissed.

“So then don’t tell him everything. Just say you want to visit some people. He’ll understand, I know he will,” she replied. Grian pondered it for a moment. She was right--he could just ask to visit someone. Other hermits did it all the time. Maybe--maybe a few server hops wouldn’t cause a problem. Maybe this was something within his reach, after all this time. The thought exhilarated him.

“But please,” Pearl added. “Please tell someone else, not just me. How long have you been hiding?”

Too long.

Grian didn’t answer, and the two of them stood there and listened to the crash of the waves on the nearby shoreline. The air was hot and salty, and in the distance he could hear Xisuma opening and closing doors in the village.

He didn’t know what he felt, it was like too many emotions had happened in too short of a period of time and left him burned out like a forest after a wildfire. His hands had stopped trembling, but he felt deeply tired.

Happy. You feel happy.

Grian’s communicator chimed from within his pocket. He withdrew it.

GoodTimeWithScar > Grian: are you okay

Grian smiled, and typed a response.

Grian > GoodTimeWithScar: yes

“Who was that?” Pearl asked.

“Scar. He wanted to know if I was okay.”

“Are you?”

Grian met her eyes. “I am now.” It was close enough to the truth. Grian shifted his weight between his feet, suddenly restless and tired from trying to process all this new information. “Speaking of other hermits, we should get going, yeah? We can’t let them get all the resources without us!”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” she chuckled. The hermits had already spread out seeking resources, but not too far yet; Grian and Pearl could still see several of them talking to each other across the field.

“Pearl, before you go--” Grian started, looking serious. “Build next to me, alright? I...I want you to be around.”

“I promise,” she replied.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

“Why are you following me?” Grian knew why, but he wanted Mumbo to bring it up. He was torn--on one hand, he truly appreciated his friend’s concern. It was nice that others were looking out for him, a warm reminder of what their little community stood for. On the other hand . . . he’d really have just appreciated being left alone.

“You look like you have a purpose!” Mumbo exclaimed instead.

Huh.

Grian shook his head. “I’m just heading north,” he replied, shielding his eyes and looking up to see the position of the sun.

“I was just like, ‘Man, it looks like he knows where he’s going,’” Mumbo continued and Grian laughed.

They walked to the edge of the swamp, and began to cut down the trees. Starter tools were a necessity in a new world, and they had no stone.

“Ugh, I have to take down this whole tree, and then I have to replant it,” complained Mumbo.

“Wait-why have you got to replant it?” asked Grian incredulously, while getting wood for himself and not replanting the tree.

“Well I-I can’t just deforest things!”

This is going to be SO much fun to tease Mumbo with.

“Whatever you say, tree boy.”

They continued to work, getting wood, and then venturing into a shallow cave to get stone. The whole time their coms kept buzzing, buzzing, buzzing with combat death messages. Just another day in the hermitcraft world, thought Grian. Have they declared a spontaneous war up there? Either way, Pearl and Gem were getting the full introduction today, he thought with a chuckle.

Exiting the cave, they spotted a shipwreck not too far away, and decided to explore it. Grian pulled out a soggy buried treasure map, and they decided to go after it in a boat. Grian wanted to relax in the boat, to just breathe in the sea spray and try to calm his still-racing thoughts, but unfortunately Mumbo was the driver, and he was not a very good driver if you asked Grian. Grian had been tasked with navigation, which was a difficult thing when the driver couldn’t see the map you were describing.

The loot was good, and they divided it between themselves and then struck onward in the boat, this time with Grian commandeering the vessel. They looped back around to the shipwreck only to find a group of hermits that were a little too late to the prize. Pearl, Ren, and Doc were gathered around the boat looking a bit disappointed.

Mumbo and Grian decided to taunt them.

“Who got the loot?” shouted Ren.

“We got the loot!” Grian shouted back.

“Oh it was you guys,” said Pearl. Grian stuck his tongue out at her and cackled.

They looped back around to show off the Heart of the Sea, but Mumbo dropped their only diamond by accident and that was when Grian decided to steer the boat away before they lost any more valuables.

“I can’t believe you dropped the diamond,” Grian sighed.

“I was flexing too hard, I’m sorry!” cried Mumbo.

It was too comical, and Grian couldn’t be mad at his friend. They rowed on, closely following the coastline. After a few minutes, however, Mumbo asked a question.

“The new hermit, who we just saw with Doc and Ren--Pearl--is it. . . is it okay if I ask how you know her?” Mumbo spoke gently, knowing he was treading around a potentially sensitive topic. Grian knew the topic would have come up eventually, after he’d basically had a breakdown in public when he saw her.

Grian stopped the boat, and looked into the water, not at Mumbo’s face. “Yeah, I figured you’d ask. We used to be on a world together. The . . . the world I was at before I came here, actually.” It wasn’t the full truth, since he’d been to many worlds as a Watcher and had lived on the Watchers’ world for a while. But Evo had been his last home.

“Oh,” said Mumbo.

“We were friends,” continued Grian. “We were close. But I was told she was dead. Clearly, though,” he just simply gestured instead of finishing the sentence.

“Clearly she’s not dead,” Mumbo finished. “I see. Who told you she was dead?”

“Someone who didn’t have my best interests at heart.” Grian had never fully told his friend about what had happened before he joined hermitcraft, but the other man knew that it was a difficult past and had comforted him on more than one occasion--mostly after he’d first joined and the pain was still fresh. It had dulled with time and Grian had become more and more adjusted to his new life.

Seeing Pearl again was a miracle, but it sure sharpened the pain.

Grian rested his elbows on the side of the boat and pressed the heels of his palm into his eyes. “It wasn’t just her, either, they told me everyone on the server was dead. And-they’re all alive. All of them. It’s fantastic news, brilliant news, I’m just-”

“Thinking of the people who didn’t have your best interests at heart?”

“Yeah.”

Mumbo laid a hand on Grian’s shoulder. “I don’t know who they are,” he began, “but I know they’re not here now. You have us now, and you have Pearl here too. That all is in the past.”

Grian stared out over the water, watching as the sunlight sparkled and danced over the waves. “You’re a good friend, you know that right?”

“Well, I do try to be,” Mumbo chuckled. “Now-I think we should probably go pick up Scar over there, I think the poor man is going to drown!”

“Oh no!” Grian said, and scrambled for the oars, and then they were off.

◑ ━━━━━ ▣ ━━━━━ ◐

When Grian, Impulse, Scar, and Mumbo created the Boatem Pole, Pearl was there to join them.

When Grian woke up in his makeshift camp the next morning, he was happy to see Pearl setting up her own starter base on the other side of the Boatem Pole.

When Grian showed up at Xisuma’s base two days later, he asked for permission to visit other servers.

[luimagines]

Hey it’s the same comfort anon! I really loved what did with the prompt!

If you don’t mind I have another rq 👉👈

RQ: You help them out during an embarrassing situation.

Masterlist

Comfort Anon! My first requester! I’m so glad you enjoyed it. I’m glad you think I did it justice!

I absolutely do not mind that you have another request!

I think I’m going to keep all of them in the same post this time around.

Set platonically and within the group since there wasn’t any specification.

You know the drill! Scenario under the cut!

Twilight

“Wolfie...” You try to fight the grin on your face and fail. “What are you doing?”

Said wolf pauses and stares at you thus beginning an impromptu staring contest.

You had been walking away from the camp to relieve yourself when you spotted familiar looking fur running around. It had sparked your interest so you ventured closer as quietly as you could.

When you reach your furry friend, you feel your face split into a large grin.

Wolfie was running in circles and rolling around the dirt trying to catch his tail.

It naturally amuses you greatly and you decided to watch for a little moment longer before Wolfie had actually managed to catch his tail and had begun chewing on it with fervor.

Realistically, you knew it probably itched and the poor thing was just trying to scratch it in the best way he could.

But it was still so adorably cute!

You ask your question, breaking the moment and try to hide your amusement for the sake of the creatures pride.

You can see the moment when Wolfie sees you. His whole body goes still and he stops chewing himself completely. Wolfie slowly lets his tail out of his mouth, making a small thump against the ground, while never breaking eye contact and waits.

You’re not sure for what but the way he’s staring at you makes you think you weren’t supposed to see what you saw. He looks the equivalent of getting your hand caught in the cookie jar and is trying to see how much trouble he’s going to get in.

It’s makes the whole thing infinitely funnier.

Your giggles escape and the animal begins to lower his head to the ground, ears back and flattened.

You’d dare say he looks embarrassed.

It softens your heart to see Wolfie in such a state so you try to rein in one final snort, fail, and begin to leave. “I’ll... leave you to it, Wolfie. I gotta pee. Have fun with what you’re over there.”

With your back turned, Wolfie gives out a pitiful whine that leaves you snickering until you find a more private spot.

Apparently, this one’s taken. 

Wild

“Wild...” You say, looking upward until your neck hurts. “How do you manage these things? I swear it’s only you who gets into this kind of stuff.”

“I just want to make eggs for breakfast!” He cries in defense. “I’m sorry for trying to do something nice for all of you!”

“Oh no, I get that. It’s this that worries me.” You sigh and try to get step back and assess the situation. Looking up is a little easier with and you’re able to see a better plan of action.

In theory anyway.

Wild, as mentioned, was about to make breakfast and had thus spotted eggs in  a nearby tree. Naturally he wanted to go collect them and feed his friends but there’s one thing he didn’t account on. The mother returned.

That being said, he freaked out enough that he dropped the sheikah slate, nearly fell out of the tree and in the ruckus had also scared away the mother.

He kept the eggs though.

However, when the word nearly is mentioned it’s meant to bring point that he didn’t actually fall out of tree. ...But he still might.

Why?

Because the only reason he didn’t hit the ground head first is because his foot got caught in one of the branches.

So he’s hanging upside down by his ankle and can’t access his tools to even attempt to get out.

This is where you, dear reader, come in.

Wild was actually far enough away and covered by enough foliage that the others haven’t noticed him in this precarious situation. You though, were heading to the creak nearby to wash your face and begin your morning routine.

Wild then yelled just loud enough to catch your attention and had asked for your assistance.

“Are you sure I can’t just get Twilight? Or Time?” You ask him. “I’m sure that one of them can just shake the tree and you’ll be free.”

“NO! Do not! Just-!” He flails around a bit, the branch creaking in protest but doesn’t  budge from the spot. “I get into a lot of stuff but neither of them will ever let me live this down.”

“What about Warrior then? Or Legend? He might have a tool of something to get you out-”

“No one else can know! Why can’t you just help me?” Wild begs.

“I have to say I’m little over my head here.” You admit. “Or rather, you’re a little over my head.”

“Very funny.”

“I think I have an idea but you have to catch yourself.” You grin and begin to move away.

“Just make it quick. All the blood is flowing to my head.”

You jog back to camp and take out your sword. A few more familiar faces are awake now and waiting for their food. 

“Hey,” Wind greets you with a tired smile and a yawn. “Where’s Wild?”

“He’s a little hung up at the moment.” You smile. “I just gotta go help him for a second and he’ll be back.”

Wind takes the answer for what it is, too tired to read too much into it and nods.

You sprint back and grin wildly. “Try to stay out of my way ok?”

“You couldn’t think of any other solution?” Wild nearly whines.

“This is the quickest way. You said make it quick.” You take a breath and run forward. With your momentum to run what you can up the tree and jump. With the added height to turn to where Wild is and swing in his foot’s direction.

With speed and accuracy on your part, you slice the branch that’s been holding him back and the two of you fall to the ground.

Wild dips into a roll and somehow manages to expertly swipe the slate off of the ground as he passes it. You do a similar motion but angle yourself to not come into contact with your blade.

Together you spot each other and grin, small laughs exiting your mouths as you get up.

“Thanks for that.” Wild pats himself off and turns on his heel. “I gotta get breakfast started but I’ll come get you when it’s done, ok?”

You nod and begin to head toward the creek once more, willing to play as if this never happened.

You decide on the way to not tell Wild that the branch is still stuck on his boot though. 

Time

Everyone was in Wild’s house for the day, chilling while they could, since there was little to no activity.

Time had actually retired momentarily to take a nap on Wild’s bed for the afternoon.

It was quiet.

Because the group was afraid to wake up the grumpiest member of the group.

So naturally you wanted to take advantage of the peace and brought your book and sat on the stairs while the boys took over the table and floor.

After a hot minute, you looked up to see that half of the group was gone, haven’t left to do something more chaotic and grinned to yourself.

Behind you the wood of the house creaked under applied pressure. You turned around to look at the cause and saw that Time had woken up from his nap. His eyes were closed and he was mid-yawn as he traveled down the stairs.

You got up from your spot and traveled a few steps to let him pass, but that didn’t happen.

Time hadn’t opened his eye yet and had mis-stepped.

His mistake cost him his pride as he fell down the stairs all the way down to the floor.

“Don’t break a hip old man!” Warrior called out in a laughing voice.

You threw your book onto the table and went to help Time up. “Are you ok?”

“Ow.” He deadpanned and grabbed the railing for good measure. “On top of that, I think I left my shoes up by the bed.”

“I’ll get them” You squeaked around him and dashed up the stairs. In your enthusiasm you over stepped one of the steps and fell up the stairs.

You paused in shame and shock while Warrior lost his battle and started laughing hysterically.

Swallowing the last of your dignity, you dash up the remaining steps and help your friend.

You came back down with an attempt to hold your head up high and held out Time’s shoes out to him. “I think these are yours.”

There was a small smile on his tired face. “Thank you. Are you ok?”

“Yes.” You nod. “I’m fine. Nothing happened. No one saw anything.”

Time snorted and took them from you. “Of course.”

Warrior

It’s was absolutely pouring.

Everyone was wet and there was no shelter in sight. It was dark and loud and everyone still had to continue forward.

No one was happy and everyone was silently fuming at the unideal circumstances.

You were walking next to Warrior, not making eye contact with anyone and you had to stop from commenting that he looked like a drowned rat.

His scarf has no doubt doubled in weight with all the water its absorbed and Warrior kept having to adjust it. It was sagging off of his shoulders and he kept having to adjust it or else it risked falling into the muddied ground.

As time passed Warrior had to continually fix it, and adjust it and he was growing exponentially frustrated with the prospect and was getting fed up with it.

You watched in growing amusement and restrained from offering your help because you were certain that he would snap at you.

In one final moment of baled up frustrations, he threw the scarf in one more lap around his neck and... well... he overjudged the strength needed and it swung all the way around just to smack him right back in his face.

Oh but it didn’t end there.

In his moment of blindness, he mis-stepped and tripped.

He hit the ground on his knees first but kept going, twisting to his side, just missing slamming his face into the mud as well.

You just stop in your tracks and tried your hardest to not laugh.

With hesitant steps, you walked over to Warrior who slowly started to get up.

His entire side was just brown. And Warrior... didn’t bother with showing the emotion on his face.

Just a neutral face of displeasure.

You quickly, helped him to his feet and and began cupping your hands to throw the collected rain water onto him and wipe off the mud.

It’s not helping.

“Not. One. Word.” Warrior takes a deep breath and begins to help you clean himself off.

“Yes, Captain.” You grin and take his hand. “You want me to take the blame? Say I pushed you down or something.”

“It’s fine.” Warrior bites the words as he says them. 

You pass a creek.

With the idea in your head, you shove Warrior hard and he goes right into the water like you wanted him to.

“Excuse me!” He screeches as his head bobs above the water.

The mud is washed off as least.

“You’re clean again! No one will know!”

Warrior is not amused.

You grin. “It’s not like you got any wetter.”

“...Why are you like this?”

“I’ll take my thanks in monetary compensation.”

Hyrule

“Hyrule.” You gasp. “Oh no. Oh boy. Don’t go back yet. Hold on. Don’t leave. Stay here.”

He pauses and does what you say, although confusedly. “Ok? Why?” 

“There’s a rip in your pants. Huge. I can see your whole-” 

“WHAT?” Hyrule grips the fabric and finally catches wind of the tear. It’s long and goes down the side of his leg but it’s... pretty revealing.

“I’ve got some sewing stuff in my pack.” You say dropping your equipment and dashing as quickly as you could. “I can sew it up. No one will know the difference.”

“...I can never show my face again.”

You roll your eyes and make the quick trip. There’s a small part in the reptilian part of your brain that calls to make it a quick mission. Stealth, silence and shadows are your friends and you make it back to camp, grab your supplies and make a break for it without tripping anyone else’s hand.

When you return to Hyrule, he’s sat down a nearby rock and inspecting what he can of the rip.

“I have no idea how you managed this,” you say when you get close to him again. “But I’ve managed to get there and back with no one knowing. I will, however, need you to take off your pants.”

Hyrule flushes bright red instantly.

“...Do I have to?”

“Unless you’re ok with my face being right next to your-”

“No, no, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.” Hyrule gulps and strips.

“I’m glad you agreed because I, for one, was not ok with that.” You hold your hand out and take the pants from him. “At least your tunic is long.”

“This is humiliating.” Hyrule mutters and sit down on the ground instead of the rock and hugs his legs close.

“Why on earth do you think I stopped you? Someone had to save you from the the ridicule of the others. Like don’t get me wrong, we all like you but there’s no survivors, no mercy, and no alliances when it comes to roasts.” You sat down in front of him and began to sew up the tear. “Any idea how this happened?”

“I think it got caught on a bush?” He rests his head on his knees and avoids eye contact. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“A bush?” You put it down and and stare at him. “A bush?”

He doesn’t reply.

“Hyrule if your clothes are weak enough to rip this badly on a bush then we need to get you knew clothes.” You finish and return to your task of fixing his pants. “We can get Legend and Wild and figure something out. Wild has enough clothes to spare and Legend knows good quality when he sees it. I’ll pay for your new clothes next town we invade, ok?”

“I can’t believe this happened.” He says instead.

“Give me ten minutes and you can at least put your pants back on.”

Legend

They were having a race.

The boys were so bored that they were having a race.

It was between Legend, Wild, Wind, Hyrule and Twilight.

Sky refused to run, Time was content with just watching and Warrior had a bet going so he had money on who the winner would be.

You were the judge and had placed yourself at the end of the strip with a small cloth for a flag and got in position. It was anything goes. Items, sabotage, dirty plays- anything.

Twilight was actually competing on Epona.

“Ready?” You call with a grin. “Get set! GO!”

You hear them take off but there’s a blast of wind next to you.

It’s so close to you that it takes you by surprise so you scream in shock but it ends in a thunk against the tree behind you.

There’s a groan and you turn to see the winner.

Twilight is next and he stops before he could run you over. “Are you kidding me? What the heck did he do? How did he do that?”

Legend is sitting in front of the tree and rubbing his head.

He wins at least.

The others make it within the next minute and they groan and whine but they leave without looking at the winner.

You grin and skip over to him, placing your hand on his shoulder when you get there. “Congrats, Mr. Hero. It looks like you were the- oh my god.”

You kneel next to him and tilts his face towards yours.

He’s bleeding from the face, a cut on his eye and a bloody nose.

“Hey, so you see this tree here?” He spits and it’s more blood.

“Yeah?”

“I didn’t.” He hisses and goes to wipe with his sleeve but you stop him.

“Oh boy. Hold on.” You gently take the cloth flag that you have and wipe his face, getting him to pinch his nose as you wipe his cut.

It’s thankfully not deep and not bleeding profusely. With a little inspiration, you take out your bag, your magically enchanted pocket and pull out a potion.

Legend is quick to refuse but you shake your head and splash a little on his face. The magic hits the cuts and is absorbed in his skin.

“Hey!” He splutters.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to explain to Warrior why your face is bleeding?” You smirk and begin cleaning the rest of the blood of him.

Legend pouts and looks away, letting you work.

“I guess not.”

“I thought so.”

Sky

“Oh... that is... not ideal...” You hear Sky say.

With your interest piqued, you turned your head to look at him and what was bothering him.

“Sky, what did you do?”

It... was interesting. Somehow Sky had managed to get his whip stuck in a tree. Not just caught between two branches, no that would have been too easy to pull out. It had somehow wrapped around the branch, at least three times and was too tall for anyone in the group to get out unless they had somehow managed to climb the tree.

The tree itself was also inclined to be easy to climb. You were quick to see that only The Champion could probably scale it but he wasn’t here at the moment. 

Twilight kidnapped him to go fishing.

“...How?” You ask and make your way over to him. “How did you do this?”

He glances at you with wide eyes and a bit lip. ”Help?”

“Ho boy...” You take a breath and get up. “This.... I have one solution.”

“Ok?”

“How good is your aim?” You glance up at the problem again. “Scratch that, how good is your throwing arm?”

“Pretty good I like to think.” He admits. 

“Ok, throw it over the branch but in the opposite direction. We have to undo the loops first.”

“We? Sounds like it’s just me.” Sky steps closer to the tree and prepares to throw the handle over the branch.

“Well there’s not exactly place for me to step in now, is there?” You put your hands on your hips and smirk.

It goes over one loop just fine.

It still doesn’t budge.

Sky throws it again, misses, tries again and makes it.

It’s only one loop over the branch but it still won’t move. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sky growls and throws it into the air in frustration.

“Ok, hold on, if it just need one more throw-”

He made it loose in the process but neither of you were paying attention. It had sung for a minute, budged and had swung all the way back to to you both coming off of the branch in the process. The inertia was still in motion and it had managed to hit Sky directly in the face while you were talking.

Luckily, it wasn’t that strong of a hit.

“Oh hey!” You grin and try not to laugh. “It’s out!”

“Let’s never speak of this.”

“Come on, it’s funny.”

“Ever.”

Four

“Wild, do you have any towels I can dry my hands off with?” Four asks from behind you.

You were all in Wild’s house once more and currently getting ready for dinner.

“Yeah, top shelf.” Wild replies without looking up from the pot.

You glance back as well to see where Wild would have been thinking about.

Yup, you think, that’s the top shelf alright.

Four is stuck staring at the height and begins to slowly look around.

You get an idea of where he’s going with this and power walk to his side. Your intuition is proven correct when he then attempts to climb Wild’s house and furniture just to get it.

His hands are also still wet, mind you.

You can see his white knuckled grip as he tries to fight the lack of traction and decide to help him out.

“I got it!” He says, when you nudge him aside.

“You don’t.” You reply and copy his movements to reach a singular towel. You’re back down in a split second but the bounty in within your grasp.

“It’s not like you can reach it either!”

“Still took me less time and significantly less climbing to get it.” You toss the towel in his face with a grin. “I doubt you even had good grip either. I thought you were going to fall and crack your head open on the floor.”

“Please don’t fall in my house and crack your head on the floor.” Wild speaks up. “Blood is so hard to clean up.”

“Know from experience?”

“Don’t tell Twilight.”

“Get lower shelves Wild Child.” Four dries his hands and tosses the troublesome cloth to Wild.

He catches it with blinking and shoves it into his apron. “I’ll take your criticism to the manager and see what we can do.”

“Manager? This is your house! You’re the manager!”

“So? I said what I said!”

“You boys done play fighting or are we going to have to wait to eat?” You ask.

...

“I’d like to eat now please.”

“On it.”

Wind

It was your turn on watch and there was nothing to do.

Not that you were asking for trouble but it would have been nice to at least be able to do patrol or something.

But nooooo... For safety reasons, i.e. the storm just beyond your coverings, everyone was supposed to stay within the camp at all times.

You didn’t disagree with it so to speak. It was more of a mild inconvenience.

That was until Wind got up with whispered...but still loud, curses.

You stood up and tip toed your away around the half hazardly tossed limbs of your comrades. “Everything ok Wind?”

He jumps and grabs the blankets around himself, folding them, bunching them together and curling ever so slightly over himself.

“Everything’s fine!”

“Shh..” You put a finger to your lips and look around the group.

No one woke up.

“What’s got your jimmies in a twist kid?” You squat down and place your hand on the blankets. They’re wet and the smell....

Oh you know what happened.

You stand up again and give him the curtesy of not saying it out loud. “I have a plan but you have to do as I say, no questions asked. We can make it so no one will know what happened. Ever. And this stays between only you and me, ok?”

You wipe your hand on your pants and hold out the opposite one to the boy. He stares at you with a red face and contemplates the choice. After only two seconds of deliberation, he takes your hand and gets up.

You suppose that to have an out, verses having to explain to everyone that he’s been looking up to sounds very appealing in the end. Better for only one person to know than ten.

“You’re lucky it’s still pouring buckets.” you say and grab all the blankets from his bed roll that you can. Chancing a glance at him, you see that his clothes are wet as well, pretty much from the waist down. With another thing to fix, you notice that his very bedroll is right by a huge puddle that had been forming and no one knew.

The hand in the glass water trick, then.

Your friends have seen and done that a few times to a few poor unsuspecting soul.

“Ok, here’s what you’re going to do.” You turn to Wind. “You’re going to change out of your clothes and into some clean ones. And then you’re going back to bed in my bed roll.”

“But where will you sleep?” He asks with a hand gripping his shirt

“I’ll steal it from the next guy.” You lie...kinda... That actually sounds appealing but you don’t think on it too much. “I’ll take the next shift to buy time and I’m going to throw your blankets and bed roll out into the rain, ok?”

“You were too close to the borders of the tarp anyway.” You continue with your plan, throwing them out for a second before turning on your heel and getting some of your clothes for Wind.

You think you might have something that’ll fit him but if not, it’s only to sleep in.

He changes into the clothes while you back out to the blankets.

In your search for the clothes, you dug out your powered soap and tossed some of it on the blankets and bed roll. After rubbing the fabric together to get it sudsy and deep into the material, you set it up against the tree and branches, letting the falling rain drops hit it and filter through.

It’s rudimentary and it took you longer than you wanted because now you’re also soaked to the bone and only halfway through but you think back to being a thirteen year old and how embarrassed you would have been and plow on to save Wind from the same fate.

You step back into the tarp and guide Wind, taking his clothes away to where you were sleeping prior. You’re clothes are way too big on him and it’s honestly more endearing than you would have thought.

“Thanks.” Wind says in a small voice. He’s humiliated, you know but you don’t focus on it.

“Your hand got wet and you pissed yourself in your sleep.” You say and shrug. “My friends and I were... are brats and it’s not the first we’ve played that prank. Put the poor saps in a glass of warm water and watch them pee their pants. It’s funny when it’s planned and well... not you. I won’t tell a soul.”

“You better not.” He sits down in your bed roll and begins to get comfortable. “It’s smells nice.”

“I try.” You grin.

“Do I owe you?” He looks up with big eyes and you think that it makes him look younger than he is.

“It’s on the house.” You wave him off and dash back in the rain to clean the rest of his clothes.

On the way back to cover, you kick the support that was closest to Wind’s spot, sending a torrent of rain upon yourself in the process but the spot where the pirate was is considered useless now.

Wind tilts his head from his spot and you grin. “Cover story.”

The rest of night is spent watching the time, watching the others and taking turns with Wind’s clothes and blankets by the fire so that all three of you can dry off before the sun comes up and the other inevitably ask questions.

By morning you’re dead on your feet, but consider it a job well done. 

[lollytea]

Hi, I was wondering since it was valentines that you can write a little fluff/romance of louie x ty

If you want to, you don't have to

(It is no longer valentines day. v sorry about that. but anyways I found this in my docs and finished it.)

Louie could appreciate the white noise of rain pelting an overhead surface. It overcame him with an understated peace, brought upon by ten-hour YouTube videos trilling a gentle ambiance as he lay awake in pitch darkness, his shakes beginning to subside.

Fortunately, the bus stop was built with a roof. He had a feeling he would like the rain a lot less if he were to be standing directly under the shower.

He was slouched forward on the bench, numbly mesmerized by relentless droplets that kept puddles rippling. One hand fiddled with the handle of his rucksack, the other being a fidget toy in itself, courtesy of the boy seated next to him.

Messing with Louie’s fingers to keep himself somewhat alert, Ty was clearly still in the process of early morning activation. He had a sharpie haphazardly tucked behind his ear, his eyes were bleary and he didn’t have much to say. The irony of the situation was that they both could have slept in an extra hour if Ty hadn’t read the bus schedule wrong.

Louie figured he should get Ty talking to kick his brain into action.

“So, lemme ask, so I know what I’m getting myself into. Is Cape Suzette crazier than Duckburg?”

“Define crazy.” Ty yawned.

“Is this week with your grandparents gonna be normal or are we gonna get ourselves into some life threatening shenanigans?”

Ty didn’t answer immediately. He scrubbed his eye with the heel of his hand.

“I mean...” He began, uncertain. “If we’re gonna be hangin’ out with grandpa, who knows. I guess the city isn’t that weird, compared to here. ‘Course, there’s air pirates. But y’know the thing about those guys?”

“They’ve got “Air” in the title.”

“On the money there,” Said Ty, shooting him a finger gun. “Me and you are gonna be stayin’ on the ground. Y’know, where stuff is at least sorta normal. So, we should be fine. Why? Ya scared?”

“Ehhh, ‘Scared’ is usually my default feeling about this stuff. But I was thinking more along the lines of just wanting to take it easy. Imagine a boring, uneventful week with lots of naps. For me, that’ll be a treat.”

Ty was nodding along, lacing and unlacing his fingers through Louie’s, as if amazed that they continued to slip so seamlessly into place every time

It was when he made to scratch his ear, that the sharpie dropped into his lap. Ty blinked.

“When did that get there?”

“You put it there while you were still half asleep, genius.”

“Huh.”

Ty picked up the pen, looking to be marveling its very existence, and twirled it between his fingers. He turned his newly awoken enthusiasm on Louie. “Wanna tattoo?”

Louie didn’t think twice. “Nope.”

Ty's grin faltered. It was astonishing how a big, hulking slab of a bear could still pull off such an impressive 'wounded cub' expression.

Louie fully blamed whatever God or mysterious maker decided “Hey, here's my brilliant idea for the final touch on this already sly, sneaky, completely diabolical piece of work. Big, soft brown eyes.  I don't think we've given him enough unfair advantages in life. Hey, remember a few months back when I gave that Duck kid a heart melting weakness for brown eyes? Wouldn't it be funny if  he ever met this bear kid I'm working on?”

Ty's head tilted to the side, a tiny wrinkle forming between his brows. He hadn't released Louie from under his gaze and Louie was having a difficult time averting his eyes.

“Please...” He murmured and Louie's resistance crumbled.

A few minutes later, Louie had an entire inked sleeve, courtesy of the dorkiest temporary tattoo artist in Duckburg.

The nerve of this guy too....

“Can ya take your hoodie off?” He had asked a moment ago, once Louie's entire forearm was adorned with doodles.

“Oh, I see the angle here. You want me to catch my death?”

“Pssh. Don't be dramatic, Duck.”

“I get cold easily, Cloudkicker.”

Louie had lost both the little squabble and his hoodie and was exposed in just a t-shirt in no time. Ty had promised to warm him up if he caught a chill.

Apparently a body of snowy white feathers was the ideal canvas, Ty had informed him. Louie would be flattered if being a canvas wasn't just a job for entertaining his boyfriend as they waited for the bus.

“Stop moving!”

“It itches!” Louie griped.

“Canvases don't move, y'know.”

“Canvases--”

“Canvases don't talk either.”

Ty emphasized his point by lightly bumping the end of the sharpie against Louie's beak, smile annoyingly bright as ever. Nobody should be this sunshiny when the weather was so bleak.

Louie made a face at him, features wound up in mock disgust. Ty mirrored him.

They fell into a game, back and forth, each making an expression uglier and thus funnier than the next. At some point, weird noises accompanied the faces. Louie didn't quite know when the objective was no longer to spite Ty but to make him laugh.

He also hadn’t realized that he himself was having fun until he heard his own laughter in his ears and begrudgingly accepted that he was no longer under the influence of early morning grumpiness.

Ty was shaking with giggles too, looking at Louie as though he were silver and gold breaking through rain clouds. He glanced down and stared at their linked fingers. His sunny grin faded until all that was left was the shadow of a quiet smile.

Louie was about to break the silence when Ty readjusted his hold, flipping the small, feathery hand palm up and pressed the felt tip of the pen against it.

When he withdrew the sharpie, Louie was blinking down at his hand, his sleepy brain attempting to process the simple, tiny heart in the center of his palm.

Speaking of tiny hearts, he felt like his chest just utterly exploded with them.

This boy....

This goddamn boy with his cute little doodles and his big bright grin on rainy days.

“Canvases don't blush either.” Ty quipped, the corners of his mouth stretched so wide they were twitching.

“You're annoying.” Said Louie, accepting that his lazy smirk had long since broken into a glow. He knew he was probably looking at Ty like the bear pieced his entire universe together and managed every stitch with adoration for the craft.

He might have considered this an affront to his dignity if there had been witnesses. But the world was still asleep and their moment was muted to outsiders by a song of lashing rain.

Remnants of their moment were curtained by the sleeves of his green hoodie, as the bus arrived and he hastily pulled it on.

All that was left was the heart on Louie's palm. But then he curled up his fingers into a loose fist and it was gone.

Well, no. It wasn't gone. Just hidden.

Louie held on to his secret heart for the entire ride to Cape Suzette.

[yourmotherstrashmouth]

hi!! could i please request a ship for either stranger things or harry potter? whatever you prefer or think fits better!!

i'm lexi, i'm 19 she/her, and i prefer to be matched with men. i'm just under 5'4 and i'm a little chubby. i have black/very dark brown hair, tan skin, and blue/grey eyes. i lean toward a more grunge/midwest emo style.

i'm pretty shy at first and also quite a bit anxious and depressed, so i require a lot of patience and attention, but i can be really sweet and fun. i worry a LOT and need reassurance. i'm really good at school, but not much else these days.

i like giving gifts, animals (i'm a zoology major in college), music (especially alternative varieties), coffee (i'm a barista), smoking, the stars, and romantic stuff. i dislike loud noises, being made to feel stupid, and disappointing people.

i'm a virgo, an infp, and a slytherin. as previously mentioned, i love gift giving, but quite frankly, i love all of the love languages and need all of it to feel happy and secure.

thank you so so much and i'm looking forward to this!! :D

Your match for Stranger Things is... Steve Harrington!

Song: 4 Real - Avril Lavigne

Asks you stupid ass questions about zoology. "Where does a snake keep its eggs before to lay them? Is it like some sort of pregnancy or something?" Please Harrington 🙄 (fun fact: I searched for a video on YouTube out of curiosity and funnier fact: I have phobia of snakes).

Smoking cigarettes and stargazing on the roof at 3 a.m. with Robin (whenever she's not heavy asleep because most of the time she is). Oh and Dustin wanted to try smoking, but you guys didn't let him to ofc.

He loves how patient you are with your friends and the kids and making beautiful gifts to them on their birthday, Christmas, whatever.

You guys met at the bar where you work, he was complaining about being tired of Robin always complaning about him and you complained about how bored you were that day and from that a conversation was born. He came back to the bar a few days later and you guys decided to exchange phone numbers to talk also out of your jobs.

Your match for Harry Potter is... Draco Malfoy!

Song: Believer - Imagine Dragons

Slytherin lovebirds ofc! This makes me think of Pansy as jealous of you because you got to be in a relationship with the boy she always wanted, but had no balls to tell him her feelings.

You were shy at first, so he though you were weak, but then he saw you getting along with other people and how you turn into a total different person once you get more confident, so he decided to give you a try.

He wanted to reject you first as he though you weren't his type, but in the end he decided to give you a chance asking you out for the Yule Ball. He enjoyed your company and you eventually ended up together.

He makes sure Tiger and Goyle aren't too loud and noisy around you.

[lovely-ateez]

I’ll Be Home Soon~

ꕥPosted: 5/16/21

ꕥGenre: Fluff

ꕥPairing: Fem!Reader x Idol!Mingi

ꕥWord Count: 1.8k

ꕥWarnings: An overwhelming heaping of fluff

ꕥTag List: @nevieatiny @bobateastay

ꕥA/N: I know this is short but I wanted to write at least a little something for Mingi’s return. I’m just so proud of him and can’t wait to see him again ><

I sat on the couch as stiff as a board. At any minute my boyfriend would return home after being away for months. We kept in contact while he was gone, of course, but it wasn’t the same as seeing each other in person. Even after all this time, I still wasn’t accustomed to the cold bed or the lack of sticky notes he would leave me throughout the day, all saying some variation of I love you or good morning or you look beautiful today. It was always something simple, but they became so meaningful to me. Waking up without his warm smile never got easier, and every moment he was gone I thought of him. Our house wasn’t a home with only me.

I heard the faint jingling of keys and I scrambled to the door, about falling over in the process. The door opened to reveal my tall, lanky boyfriend. He was dressed casually, wearing a large white sweatshirt over black baggy pants. His brown hair was down, slightly covering his eyes. He wasn’t dressed up or wearing anything special, but in that moment he looked more handsome to me than he ever had before. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds since I laid my eyes upon him and my heart was already beating as rapidly as the first time I met him.

He smiled at me and opened his arms wide to embrace me in a tight hug. I jumped in his arms without thinking and felt tears beginning to run down my face.

“I can’t believe you’re home. I missed you so much.” I nuzzled into his warm chest.

His voice was deep and warm, enveloping me ten times over. “I’m home, baby. I’m home.”

We held each other tight, basking in the feeling of the other after being separated. It felt new, in some ways, but completely and totally familiar at the same time.

“I’m sorry I was gone for so long.” His voice was soft, as if he thought I might blame him.

I pulled back from his embrace, making eye contact. “Song Mingi don’t you dare apologize! Health always comes first and I’m so proud of you for recognizing that you needed a break.”

He gave a shy smile that I happily returned. Noticing the luggage that he was carrying, I picked up a few bags and ushered him in, setting the bags down once we were inside. He looked around our living room, smiling at its setup. On the main table I had placed his favorite snacks, a few presents, and an overwhelming number of envelopes.

Mingi quirked a brow and chuckled, obviously thankful but a bit confused, “What are the envelopes for and why are there so many?” 

I looked to the ground,feeling shy. “Every week that you were gone I wrote you a letter. I know we facetimed and everything but I thought it might be more personal through a letter. I tried to send them to you but your manager told me to keep them instead-”

Mingi set his luggage on the floor and once more hugged me, this time lifting me in the air and placing kisses all over my face. “You didn’t have to do this, babe.”

“Oh I know, but I wanted to. It’s the least you deserve.”

His eyes watered at my words and I gently cupped his face. “You deserve the world, my love.”

He set me back down and gave me a playful shove, “Stop that I’m gonna cry.”

I pouted, “I’m sorry I don’t mean to make you cry. I just love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby.”

I stood on my toes to press a kiss to his lips, which he returned. I felt him smile against my lips and the gesture made butterflies stir within me.

"So what do you wanna do, babe? We can stay here and watch a movie and relax if you want or-”

He laughed, “Honestly? I kinda want to go to the zoo. I don’t really know why, but I haven’t been in awhile and it just sounds fun.”

“Right now?”

“Hell yeah.”

I smiled at his childlike answer, expecting nothing less from my puppy-like boyfriend, “Alright, let’s go then! Oh-”

I felt a ball of fluff run past my ankles and up to Mingi. Both of us looked down to see our cat, Mao. Mingi smiled and picked her up, pleased to find her purring while he pet her.

“I missed you, too. Silly cat.”

“She’s been sleeping on your side of the bed since you left, so you’re probably gonna have to kick her out tonight.”

His eyes widened, “You replaced me?”

“No! I could never! She just decided to keep me company.”

A tight smile formed on Mingi’s face, “Sure, sure.”

I scoffed, “Are we going to the zoo or not?”

“Of course!” He set Mao down before moving his luggage into our bedroom. I picked up my purse and car keys as I saw him return to the living room and gave him another smile. We quickly said our goodbyes to Mao and locked the door, excited to spend more time with each other.

-

“So what’s your favorite zoo animal, Mingi?” I asked as we walked through the zoo with our fingers intertwined.

His eyebrows furrowed in thought, “I kinda like sun bears. Have you seen the memes about those things? How they look-”

“Like a person in a bear costume?” I finished his sentence and he giggled, nodding at me.

“I think they have those here, actually. We might have to find a map but I’m sure they’re around here somewhere.”

After asking around and wandering for half an hour, we finally found the sun bear enclosure...only to be met with empty land.

“Damn, are they really not here?” Mingi asked, looking dejected, “I thought they’d have at least one.”

Before I could reply a little girl ran up to the exhibit in front of us, her brown pigtails swaying with her quick movements. She pressed her small fingers to the glass, squinting to see any signs of the sun bears. Her bottom lip stuck out when all she saw was an empty exhibit and my heart lurched for the poor girl. Mingi and I watched as an attractive couple ran from the same direction as the little girl, their movements frantic until they saw her tiny figure.

“Migyung you can’t just run off like that, sweetheart.” The mother lightly scolded, sounding more concerned than angry.

The little girl turned around at the sound of her mom’s voice and frowned. “I’m sorry, mama. I just wanted to see the funny bears!”

The father crouched down to reach her height, “I know, just tell us next time, okay?”

Migyung nodded at her father’s words.

“And would you look at that?” The man smiled and pointed behind her, “Look who’s coming over to see you.”

The girl turned around and spotted a sun bear walking towards her. She let out a gasp, once more pressing her fingers to the glass. Her eyes filled with stars as she looked at the bear.

She laughed with excitement and bounced on her toes, “Daddy, mommy, look at him! He’s so fat!”

“We see him, sweetheart.” The father replied with a smile, even though the girl couldn’t see it. He looked over to his wife and placed an arm around her, kissing her cheek as they looked at their daughter fondly.

Mingi squeezed my hand, his attention no longer on the sun bear. He turned to me with love-filled eyes and whispered, “That’s gonna be us one day, you know?”

I bit my lip and felt warmth spread through my body. We’d talked about our future before, how we wanted kids and planned on getting married, but watching the scene before us and seeing the sincerity in his eyes, it made my heart feel like exploding.

“I’d really like that.”

We stood there for a bit longer before leaving to look at the other animals. The red pandas, in particular, caught Mingi’s attention, and I found myself quite fond of the baby rhinos, but we both agreed that the sun bear was our favorite.

-

Neither of us were entirely sure how we both ended up covered in flour on the floor of our kitchen, only that once the sun had began to set we left the zoo and came home with empty stomachs, then deciding to make breakfast food for dinner. Now we were both in fits of giggles as we struggled to sit upright, Mao’s strange looks at us somehow making the event even funnier.

“Maybe this wasn’t the best idea,” I laughed.

“I think this was a great idea,” Mingi said with a smile before grabbing a handful of flour and throwing it at me.

“Hey! You’re gonna pay for that!”

He stood and grabbed the bag of flour, raising a brow in challenge, “Oh yeah? Come and get me, babe.”

Against my better judgement I stood and ran towards him, throwing my body onto his and tackling him to the floor. As our bodies collided, the bag of flour flew out of his hands and I crawled over to the bag only to feel Mingi’s arms wrap around my legs and drag me back towards him.

“Noo! I’m so close!” I giggled, the bag barely a foot away.

“Not anymore, you aren’t.” He pulled me into his lap and wrapped his arms around me tight, preventing me from escape, “What are you gonna do now, huh?”

I tilted my head with a smile, “I’ll probably flirt with my captor until he falls for me and then I’ll run away with the flour.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

“Well, what if he’s already in love with you but won’t let you go?” Mingi shifted our bodies to where I was laying with my back on the floor, his own body hovering over mine but still very much keeping me in place, “What if he’s gonna keep you here with him? What do you think about that?”

My breath hitched as he looked down at me, his face slowly inching closer to mine. He had it too easy, really, with how quickly he could fluster me.

“I think you’re far too handsome for your own good.” I said barely louder than a whisper.

He let out a chuckle before kissing me, our lips moving in time with the other’s. My hands found his hair and I pulled him closer to me, my hunger long forgotten.

As I felt Mingi’s body against mine, I finally felt whole. It was hell, going without seeing him for so many months, but because of moments like these, I knew I’d gladly wait a hundred more if it meant I could just have one day with him.

[admiringlove]

IX: aparecium; an incantation to always remember.

— you finally read all the other pages of his diary.

+pairing: miya atsumu x reader.

+genre: crossover(hq x hp); fluff; angst; frenemies to lovers.

+word count: 2.9k.

+warnings: FLUFF!! pls, if i don’t put fluff, some of my moots would cry(*cough* ray).

+usual customers(taglist): @babyworld @renee1414 @anotherhydrangea @seita @tobiosnoelle @weebslxt @tsukkiwaifu16 @loveusandoor @kozumebri @sarawrz @crackheadsara @kyuudere @cultsax @supernovaa-a @akaashikeijisan @b3llo-there @sugasloverr @kagebunshiin @tetsurolls @velvetfireworks @kritiiiii @1wai@seijohlogy​ @sweetrosemilktea @bellesowl @ems1des​ @akaashi-todorki @sakuric​ @irishhbamb​ @sweetsamus​ @cherriechurros @mxshimoo @bluebirdandcomrades @zukuroo @denki-core @sarahvvictoria​ @littlevoxine

+author’s notes: this is the last chapter(im def not sad) BUT i will be writing bonus parts!!

+navigation: previous, masterlist,.

You stand in front of your apartment, sighing as you close your eyes, making your way inside your bedroom and begin to pick up the cardboard boxes with the help of your wand, moving them outside into the living room for someone(who is quite late, yet again) to take to your new home.

You tie your hair up, fixing your overcoat a little as you sigh, making your way to the smallest box, placed in the corner of the room. Just by looking at the stamp on top of it, you smile. 

The memories of your time at Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 

You carefully sit on your knees, your plaid skirt riding up just a smidge, as you open the carton in front of you. 

To say that it was filled up completely was an understatement because right now, a few books and photographs fell out onto your lap, making you chuckle. You picked up the photographs, settling with your back against the wall and your legs stretching out, as you looked through them one by one. 

The first one—one of your graduation ceremony, standing next to Shimizu Kiyoko(the current owner of the most popular Quidditch shop in London) who was beaming vividly at the camera with you, holding up your wands as a gesture that you had finally done it. Something that seemed almost insurmountable when you first started school, and now? You all were content, happy with your lives. 

The second photograph was one from the third year, your first time in Hogsmeade. You were in The Three Broomsticks, and a mustache of the froth from the butterbeer had formed atop your lips. Behind you, a certain fox pointed and laughed his guts out. 

The next picture was from the Shrieking Shack—where all of your friends had ditched the second last day of school and spent the whole day drinking and reminiscing the past seven years of nostalgic happiness. A boy held your hand with the fondest look in his carob orbs, and you returned it. 

You gingerly took the three photos, storing them in the photo album that had also fallen out of the box in the process of you opening it. Smiling, you took out some more mementos. 

Your broomstick, the Nimbus 2001, sat at the bottom, but you excitedly removed it and placed it on the ground, saying, "Up!"

It almost made it to your hand but fell down upon grazing your fingertips. You pouted, blaming the number of years it had passed since you had played Quidditch. Peering into the box as you placed the broomstick aside, you found something even funnier. 

Cheap, piss colored hair-dye that was almost ten-years-old. 

You chuckled, looking at it playfully as you opened the top of the bottle. The disgusting odor that came from it made you grunt as you immediately placed the cap back on top, never desiring to touch that thing ever again. And once more, you placed the item in your hand to the side, looking into the box to find more things that reminded you of your happiest years. 

You couldn't believe your eyes at what sat at the bottom of the carton. 

An empty notebook with a soft leather cover, with a grey quill by its side, sitting there and ridiculing you. 

You blinked twice, making sure what you were seeing was real. Hell, you even rubbed your eyes until you could see mindless patterns in the dark. You opened your eyes, the patterns making themselves sort of visible in plain sight, disappearing after a few milliseconds when you grabbed the brown book in front of you and whispered with your wand in hand, "Aparecium."

September 2, 20**.

I don’t know what I’m doing at this point. It’s been 3 years since I started loving her.  When I saw her walk into the train today, umm, yesterday cause it’s past 2 AM now… I felt so happy?? I mean, I know I tease her and all, she’s quite amazing. She’s got the brains for it all and insults me back even when I say something stupid.  I really dunno. 3 years and I’ve made 0 progress. I seriously need to re-think my decision about my love for this girl 'cause 'Samu says there’s no chance she loves me back. Dunno if I’ll be able to stop my feelings, though. I’ve liked her since my second year. Damn me, for being such a lovesick puppy.  And to think I colored my hair for her too. [Y/N] called it piss-colored. Out of all things, why the fuck would ya compare somebody’s hair to piss? That’s utterly disgusting. I wonder where [L/N] gets these dumb ideas. Damn her, that slug. Anyways, I have class in a couple hours. G'night. 

'Tsumu. 

You immediately let out a hearty laugh, flipping to the next page when you remembered a certain encounter with the boy who wrote the diary. The day he told you he loved you, by the infamous Black Lake, he spoke of this particular page. He said that he addressed the nightly trips around Hogwarts, about how much he longs to be yours, about his happiness when he sees you, and your snarky comments that are just as, if not more, witty than his. 

September 4, 20**

Today was the third day of school. Also my first trip around Hogwarts with [Y/N] under my invisibility cloak. We snuck into the kitchens and got ourselves steak pies and treacle tarts, and then went to the Astronomy Tower where we ate them while laughing about nothing in particular. I love these little trips. They make me all warm and fuzzy inside. Dunno how to put it into words, but I really like spending time with her alone. It makes me really really really happy. I wish that someday, maybe when I'm all grown up and play for a known Quidditch Team and she's a DADA professor, we are still like this. Going around to aimless places, eating food, and laughing about the old times(or anything really, I just want to be with her even when I'm older). And just like always, she doesn't fail to throw dumb comebacks at me. I can't help but chuckle at them, because sometimes they really are offensive. Well, looks like it's time to hit the hay now, so g'night. 

'Tsumu.

You gasp as the page comes to an end, a hand on your mouth. He wasn't wrong when he said he wrote about you. You smile as a tear runs down your cheek as you flip to a random page this time, and you realize that it's written in his sixth year of Hogwarts. 

December 23, 20**

I stayed back for Christmas break this year and my dorm is all empty. So is hers, because she says she didn't want to go back home at all until the summer. I feel bad for her gran, that woman must feel lonely. 

You giggled at the line, grinning because you remember your grandma sending you a Howler, which yelled at you in the empty dorm-room for not coming home for the holidays. She said she missed you, and that your grandfather's health was deteriorating. She had also said that she knew why you didn't come back, and that it was okay, because she understood that you couldn't see another loved one go. The Howler ended on a sorrowful note, but everything eased back into its place because you remember the writer of the diary in your hands being there to comfort you when a dreaded letter came in after the holidays. You continued reading where you left off, wiping away the new wave of tears that had emerged from the memories.

Yesterday, me and [Y/N] went around the castle under the invisibility cloak I gave her. It was fun because I always get to see this little smile on her face that only shows up during these trips. We also went to the forbidden section of the library just because we wanted to look at a few spells that are probably illegal. I did accidentally kill a rat practicing the second unforgivable curse, and [Y/N] helped me hide all the evidence by feeding the dead rat to the Hippogriff she had found in the Forbidden Forest. I swear, if someone saw the way I did the spell and couldn't stop until [Y/N] threw Expelliarmus at me, they would throw me in the deepest pin in Azkaban and I'd probably never be able to see [Y/N] again. Anyway, I have to go back out for dinner now. G'night.

'Tsumu.

You, again, laughed at the man's childishness. You recollect distinctly how scared he was, that he had almost pissed his pants in the Courtyard that night. You had assured him that nothing would go wrong and that your lips were completely sealed, because he was your friend of course, so you had quickly formulated a plan to help him. And yet again, you flip to a new page, one from the fifth year this time. 

July 15, 20**

 I hate this part every year. Ever since my third year, it sickens me to come back home for summer. I can't see her because she lives in Lambeth while I'm in Westminster with my posh family. It makes me a little angry sometimes that my family is well-known in the wizarding world because this means my summers are filled with whatever my parents want me to do. The train ride back home was definitely not quiet. It was so chaotic(mostly because of the constant bickering between me and [Y/N]) and Kita-san yelled at us at the end. That was the first time I've ever seen him get angry, so he was either really fed up or we were being too dumb. Anyway, I'm gonna miss Hogwarts a lot for the next month or so, because after that I get to see her again. Honestly? Can't wait for the sixth year. I hope she grows taller, because right now, she's quite the midget. I'll write her a letter or two, but I probably won't send all of them. G'night for now. 

'Tsumu.

You continue reading it all. Page by page, parchment by parchment, word by word, letter by letter until you finally get to the last page. The one he wrote on the graduation day, where he says that he wants to marry you someday. But you don't get to read it just yet, because he walks into the room with his booming voice and boyish grin.

"[Y/N]! Sorry I'm late, sweetheart! I apparated back home as fast as I could 'cause Coach saw me slack off a lil-"

"So ya actually read it all, huh?" he smirks, walking up to you and crouching down next to you, "Ah, the last page, have ya read it yet?"

"Not the last one," you smile, "—if only I'd read these sooner, we wouldn't have gone through all that mindless drama in seventh year, right?"

"Eh, 'twas kinda worth it in the end," he shrugs, sitting down next to you and placing his thumb on your chin, "Love, you've been crying?"

You shook your head lightly, letting out a small chuckle which to him sounded like the sweetest melody on the face on the planet, "Tears of joy, 'Tsumu. You were a cute teenager in love."

He smiles with his teeth on display, his fading blonde hair falling on his face with perfection as he whispers, "Only for you, darling."

"I'm glad," you mutter, closing in and placing a ghost of a kiss on his lips when you realize, "Wait, shit! We have to take all of this to the House! I'm supposed to leave for Hogwarts tonight!"

"Kiss me first, then we'll talk."

"'Tsumu, you really didn't have to come all the way to Hogwarts to drop me off," you giggle, as the yellow-haired man intertwines his fingers with yours quietly, giggling along with you as he says, "Hey, now yer students get to see yer hot boyfriend that you've been with for the past eight years."

"My stupid boyfriend that did a lot of illegal things in school. You're not exactly a good influence, you know," you mumble, earning a little offended open-mouth Atsumu walking alongside you to your quarters. He continues faking the vexed expression, a hand on his heart as he says, "How could ya wound me like this, baby?" 

"I love you though, so it's justified," you say, opening the door and placing your trunk by the bed. He closes the door, leaning on it with his arms crossed over his chest as you set up your things in the room. When you turned around, you saw Atsumu looking at you with the most enamored look in his clove-infused eyes. You sighed, your shoulders immediately relaxing when your orbs land on him by the door. You step towards him, your beige trench coat trailing behind as you wrap your arms around his very muscular figure(now that he's a part of Nottingham Jackals as a Beater). 

"You're going to leave, aren't you?" you mumble against his chest softly, as he chuckles out, "Yer lucky ya get to stay in Hogwarts when I'm gone. Everything's gonna remind ya of me."

Before you open your mouth to retort, your boyfriend says, "Don't worry, slug. I'll send ya letters everyday. And I'll come to meet ya twice a month. Maybe you can even let me meet yer students."

"'Tsumu, no-"

"Imagine! Children and teenagers, all of 'em love me to death. They'll love yer class, even more, when you make me meet 'em!" he exclaims, his eyes filled with curiosity, "Also, also! What about the third years? I wanna be there when the boggart lesson goes on-"

"'Tsumu, no. The school won't allow it. Although, my students do come and ask about you a lot because they like your Quidditch playing skills. They're not idiots like me, they won't fall in love with your stupid personality," you chuckle, pulling away from the hug, but still holding his arms with yours. He pouts, pulling you into a soft kiss, but immediately pulling away and winking at you, "I'm gonna see ya in a few weeks. Maybe I'll take ya on a date to Hogsmeade again, we can sneak into the Shrieking Shack again under that invisibility cloak."

"'Tsumu, I'm a teacher, not a student!" you laugh, but he simply says, "If anything, that gives us an excuse!"

Miya Atsumu never expected you to be agitatedly running around in your green-room, trying to find things for your hair and make-up. He chuckles lightly because all the other people in the room can do is shake their heads and sigh at your frantic state. Your maid-of-honor, Kiyoko, tried to calm you down about half an hour ago, but it was to no avail. 

Atsumu sent Kiyoko a knowing glance, to which she and all the other bridesmaids stepped outside for just a minute. 

"[Y/N]," he says, his voice low but still soothing. You stop in your tracks, turning around and gasping as you looked at him—clad in sweatpants and a white shirt—and widened your eyes. 

"Dummy, you aren't supposed to see me just yet! Go away and wait at the altar!" you yell, walking over to him and attempting to shove him outside the room. 

Emphasis on the word, 'attempting'. 

"You look exactly like what you are right now, a slug. So listen to me, love. I need to give ya something before you start stressin' out all over again," Atsumu murmurs, placing his hands on your shoulders tenderly as he pulls out a book with a leather cover and hands it to you. 

You sigh, picking it up as you sit down by the vanity. Atsumu looms behind you, crouching down to whisper next to your ears, "Love, open the last page, will ya?"

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, turning your head to look at him with exasperation. He places a peck to your cheek, humming indulgently as an indicator for you to continue as he instructed. You sigh again, shoulders drooping low as you turn over the book and open it, and muttering, "Aparecium."

July 2, 20**.

I want to marry [L/N] [Y/N] someday. 

Miya Atsumu. 

From the last day of the seventh year, and Atsumu continues to explain to you that during the train ride back home when all of you were sleeping, was when he wrote the last entry of his diary, and never opened it again. Because he knew, that he meant every word scribbled on every page. 

You sat there, listening to the man with the messy faded blonde hair, losing yourself in his perfect brown eyes all over again. You felt as if you were diving deep into an ocean of pure chocolate, the sweetness and the slight bitterness getting the best of you as you drown—but voluntarily, because drowning was your intention. 

"I love you, Atsumu," you say out of nowhere, cutting him off. He stops abruptly, his eyes growing wide and his mouth forming into a pout. His lips form into the brightest smile ever, as if the rays of a thousand suns meeting at one point. His boyish grin melts your heart, as he presses his lips to your forehead and says, "I love you more, darling. Now, take a breather, will ya?"

"Oh, and before I go. Don't disappoint me today, slug. I've been waiting to do this for the past eleven years."

© all works belong to admiringlove on tumblr. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

i’m not crying. yes. 

[horrorslashergirl]

Kinky December Day 4: Fireplace Sex with Chromeskull

Authors Note: We spend the fourth day of this event with Chromeskull and it seems this Florida guy hates the cold. Let’s see how Jesse deals with it. I decided to introduce my home country in this piece and share a little of my country with you all. Greetings from Romania! I hope you all have a warm winter.

Chromeskull x Reader- Not the usual Florida heat

Winter was all about the coldness, the pure white snow that fell from the sky, fluffy coats that hugged your body and drinking hot beverages, but that wasn't the case in Florida. You weren't looking forward to decorating a palm tree for Christmas, so you suggested your lover spending this year Christmas in your home country, which he agreed, all for you.

You had to stifle the laugh the first time you got off the plane in Romania and the first cold air that hit your bodies; Jesse was a shivering mess, pulling the black coat closer to his body, the mist of cold air that escaped his mouth with each breath he took.

The whole ride to the cabin you rented for the holiday was spent with Jesse searching for warmness, his body flush against yours in the backseat and the constant signing about how cold it was and something about him freezing his balls.

After five hours of driving, you reached the cabin, Jesse entering the cabin first and setting your and his luggage on the wood floorboards. The cabin was still cold and he had a constant frown on his scarred face, half of which was covered by a scarf.

'It's freezing cold inside.' Jesse signed with shaky fingers and you rolled your eyes at his bickering.

"Of course it's cold. We have to start making the fire, big baby." You told him as you waltzed into the living room, pulling your scarf off and coat, stretching your arms above your head. The cabin was very cozy and it was so good to be finally back in Romania, Jesse on the other hand? Not that much.

There was also another problem, the lack of firewood and you knew that the next words that will leave your mouth will make Jesse want to go back to Florida with the next plane.

"You will have to go outside and get wood for the fire." you told him and he gave you a simple look that said 'Are you kidding me?'.

"The ax is outside on the front porch. Good luck, stud." You told him, hiding the smirk that formed on your face as you heard the front door open and shut with a bang.

Jesse was a southern guy in all ways possible, spending all his life in the Floridian heat, so being dragged into your country when the winter was in full blast wasn't exactly something he enjoyed, but you knew he was doing all this for you and that made you happy. Looking around you decided that you should start decorating the cabin and make it homely.

You were grinning in victory when you found the Christmas decorations in a closet; as you were putting the shiny globes on the empty Christmas tree in the living room you heard the front door open, something being dropped on the floor and the door closed with a bang. Peeking your head in the hallway, you saw some wood by the front entrance.

It was a silent request: Start making the fire while I get more wood so my dick won't be transformed into a popsicle.

You quickly started to make the fire in the living room by the fireplace, your eyes shining as the bright flames came alive, the warmness kissing your cold hands. 

After one more hour, you looked around the now Christmas decorated living-room; Christmas tree beautifully shining with lights and all kinds of decorations, the flames dancing in the fireplace. Next, it was the food; you skipped into the kitchen and mentally thanked your friend for taking their time to come and bring the food, the fridge full of all you needed to cook.

You decided to make something homely, something traditional. One of the Romanian dishes that best represent the Balkan influence is the popular sarmale, stuffed cabbage or vine leaves with a mix of rice, minced meat, onion, tomatoes, and herbs. A favorite for most Romanians, this dish is usually served with cream and polenta and is a sure presence on all Christmas tables across the country. You also grinned wickedly when you found a certain bottle in one of the cabinets in the kitchen. Traditional spirit with approx. 40% alcohol, made from the distillation of plums. Its stronger alternative is Palinca or Țuică, usually prepared in Northern Romania (Ardeal county), distilled twice and made from different sorts of fruits.

Jesse loved fine liquor, so the thought of him taking a sip of this would be interesting; it was a strong drink and the note on the bottle made you giggle.

'A little treat before having fun.'

Back on cooking, next, it was Cozonac, a kind of Stollen made from leavened dough, into which milk, eggs, sugar, butter, and other ingredients are mixed together before baking. You decided to make it with almonds. After putting it in the oven, you decided that the last on the list would be a traditional warm soup, knowing Jesse will need something to put the coldness away.

You started to make meatball soup, a traditional Romanian sour soup with said meatballs consisting of pork and rice. They are seasoned with parsley, lovage, salt, borş, and sour cream.

Whipping your hands you were looking proud at the table filled with the warm Romanian cuisine, and just like the time couldn't be more perfect, you heard the front door open, a gust of cold wind and snow coming into the hallway.

You walked there to see Jesse covered in snow and shaking like a Chihuahua, and you giggled, making your behemoth lover glare at you and you knew if you were a piggy the ax he was holding in his gloved hand would be impaled straight in the center of your forehead.

'I hate winter. I hate the snow. Romania is cruel.' he signed, pulling his snow-covered coat, scarf, and hat off. Your eyes noticed the pile of wood by the door and you smiled warmly at Jesse, walking towards him and resting your hands on his chest, nuzzling into his cold chest, the turtleneck he was sporting didn't help much to keep him warm.

"I cooked for us. It's all warm." you whispered into his chest, rubbing his sides to get the coldness away.

'Finally. I'm starving. Chopping piggies heads off is much funnier, than chopping wood.' he signed, following you into the kitchen and you rolled your eyes.

Typical Jesse.

Brown eye widened as you entered the kitchen with him, the smell of delicious food hitting his nose, it was much warmer here from the oven constantly working up from your cooking.

Filling two small glasses with , you offered him one and he looked at it suspiciously.

"I'm not gonna poison you, idiot." you told him with a smirk making him snort.

You both raised the small glasses in salute and drowned the drink; you were used to the strong alcohol, but Jesse? You laughed as you watched him cough, looking at you like you were crazy.

"Stronger than whiskey, huh?" you asked Jesse all smugly.

'It's very good, but....How do you Romanians live drinking it?' he signed, making you giggle.

'By the way. Drinking isn't supposed after eating?' he asked you and you shake your head.

"Not this one, baby. Normally, Țuică is only consumed before the meal." you explained then offered a seat for him at the table, first serving him the warm soup, which he eats eagerly, probably starved from all the wood chopping and cruel weather outside.

Cruel for him of course.

Next was the second dish, which he looked at with confusion.

"Go ahead, take a bite." you urged him, continuing to eat your own meal.

You were ready to get another portion of sarmale, but your eyes widened when you saw that the big bowl was empty. Looking at Jesse you saw him lean into the chair, a content look on his face, rubbing his stomach.

"You eat all of them." you said, almost dumbfounded.

'It was delicious, doll. How come you haven't cooked these meals for me before?' he asked, filling his glass with the traditional Romanian liquor that he seemed to get accustomed to.

"I didn't think you would like them that much." you whispered and he simply smirked, shrugging.

'So? What else you got for me?' he signed, ready to eat more.

"I didn't think I would have to feed a lion, but we still got some dessert." you told him, offering the plate of cozonac to him.

He took a small bite of the good and his brown eye lit up, getting the plate from your hands and eating all of the pieces. After he was done, he closed his eye and sighed silently, his stomach full and feeling like he was in heaven.

"Geez, all Americans are big gluttons?" you sassily asked with a raised eyebrow, amused to say the last, but also very proud of your cooking.

Jesse opened his eye and gave you a lop-sided smirk.

'Everything that you do is delicious, baby girl....Including your own little self.' he signed, licking his lips as he gave you a not very discreet look that made you blush.

"Well, I'm glad you aren't bickering about the cold anymore, but I have to wash the dishes." you told him, getting from the chair and walking to the sink, only for a pair of strong arms to wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush against Jesse.

"Jesse?" you called on to him, only feeling his lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, his face nuzzling into your hair, the embrace you were trapped tightening.

'I want more dessert.' he signed in front of you, turning you around and backing you into the living room, his eyes on the fireplace and he pulled away from you to put more logs to keep the cabin all warm and cozy.

'Come here, doll. Come to daddy.' he signed, beckoning you over to him, which you happily did.

You could never deny him anything, not Jesse. He did so many things for you, treating you like a princess, making sure you had no worries, that you were always smiling. Walking over to him, you pressed your lips against his, your hands moving up and down his chest, while his own were cupping your asscheeks through your black leggings.

Tongues rubbed against each other, loving how you both tasted, how delicious you were. Teeth nipped at his lower lip and he let out a silent growl that vibrated through your mouth. The next thing you knew, you found yourself on your back on the soft, fluffy rug in front of the fireplace with Jesse between your legs.

He looked down at you with a mischievous smirk.

'Since I'm a guest in Romania, I should get the full-on experience, sugartits.' he signed deviously and you chuckled, starting to kiss his neck, your hands moving under his black turtleneck and over his chest, your cold hands making him shiver and jump slightly.

'Fuck....You're so cold.' he signed, resting his forehead against yours as your thumb grazed one of his nipples.

"Mhmm....You know I have bad circulation. You weren't bickering about it back in Florida." you commented, making him snort, one of his hands moving under your leggings to pinch your buttcheek, a squeal leaving your lips.

He didn't waste another moment with signing, tugging on your sweatshirt off along with your leggings and socks, leaving you in only black matching lingerie.

"Hey....You're way too overdressed here." you whined, making Jesse chuckle silently against your collarbone, his hands moving behind you to unclasp your bra, nipples hardening as you felt the tickle of the flames kiss your skin which was so sensitive from all the teasing.

Your hands found the edge of Jesse's turtleneck and tugged it up, exposing inked skin, your fingers running over the intricate designs, admiring every detail that he had to offer.

"You're so handsome." you whispered; God, he loved you so much.

Jesse never thought that he would ever spend Christmas with a beloved one ever again, not with the face he had, but you proved him wrong and he felt like this was all a dream and he was afraid he was going to wake up. he couldn't bear the idea of losing you.

He has pulled away from the dark thoughts when you cupped his scarred cheek, looking up at him with a longing look on your face.

"Jesse.....mae love to me." you whispered, giving him an innocent look from under your eyelashes.

He felt all his restraints leave him; he couldn't control himself when you looked at him like that. Lips crashed into yours in a needy kiss, his hands working on his black cargo pants and socks, pulling every layer of clothing off. Finally, his hands tugged on the waistband of your panties, pulling the last piece of clothing that separated both of you.

You shivered when you felt his intimidating length brush against your inner thigh, his big hands cupping your ass, loving how small you were compared to him, all the power dynamic between you two was making all the blood rush straight to his cock.

"You're everything I've ever wanted," you whispered against his neck, your teeth grazing his Adam apple.

Jesse tightened his grip on your skin, brown gaze looking down at you and when you tightened your legs around his hips, pulling him closer, his cock flush against your already dripping pussy, he felt like he would almost come undone; the effects you were having on him were making him feel like a virgin teenager.

One hand moved between your legs, running his palm over your slit, his face into the crock of your neck inhaling in your sweet scent; you were just so perfect and when he guided his length inside you, he thought he died and went to heaven.

You were such an angel, an angel that decided to sin with the devil.

You were so warm and tight, gripping his length like a hot soft blanket, so wet and ready to be pounded into oblivion. He started with slow and long thrusts, savoring every inch of your walls.

"H-Harder, please...." you moaned out, your hands gripping his biceps, nails dragging over tattooed skin.

'Beg me...Beg me to fuck you, my queen.' he signed with shaky hands.

Your breathing picked up, gulping down, and wetting your lips with your tongue.

"Jesse...Please, fuck me harder. I need you so bad. I’m…so…dam…horny right now." you whined, inner walls clenching on him as he picked up his pace, not wasting any moment to bring you such satisfaction, knowing he was the only one able to make you beg, make you shake under him all helpless.

The sounds your pussy was making around his cock was music to his ears, feeling your juices coating his cock with every pull and push of his hips. He would have liked to tease you more, but he loosed his patience. He will have more time tomorrow to tease the hell out of you, but now? All he wanted was to fill you up until you will be dripping his cum until the next day.

Jesse wished he could have more control around you. Gripping your legs tightly he began to pound into you mercilessly, making your breasts move with each push against you; scarred lips pulled into a snarl as he felt the delicious knot in the pit of his stomach.

Oh so close, just a few more thrusts.

When you came hard on his cock, squirting over the rock-hard length he came undone, following in your climax. Your nails dragged down his back as you felt hot jets of cum coat your inside, milking him for all he was worth.

"Te iubesc atât de mult." you whispered in his ear, making his eye widen, your accent so sweet.

You thought him a few Romanian words so he knew exactly what you said, but it was the way you said it; so sincere and innocent.

'God, I love it when you talk Romanian.' he signed, nuzzling his face into your neck, layers of sweat coating your bodies as you snuggled into each other in front of the fire on the white fluffy rug.

"Mmmm Jesse.....Will you pull out?" you murmured into his chest as he laid you both on your sides.

'Later....You're so warm.' he signed, lips pressing against your forehead.

"You're such a child." you said, rolling your eyes, but your arms tightened around him.

Not even the big blizzard outside bothered Jesse anymore, not when he had your naked form in his arms.

'Will you make more of your traditional food?' Jesse asked, eye shining like a child's with enthusiasm.

"Mhmmm.....if you will take care of the firewood." you replied.

'Crap...'

END

[iamtrebleclefstories]

I believe in second chances - part seven

teasing friends and wedding dates

hi, it’s been a minute. life got crazy busy and I had major writers block. if you need a refresher on what happened previously, go check out my master list

—Part 7—

“Wow, you clean up nicely,” Meredith teased as she walked into the attendings lounge to find Alex getting ready for the wedding.

“He’s taking Wilson with him to Bailey’s wedding,” Jackson shot a sly smile over their way. “That’s why he keeps fiddling with his tie.”

“Shut up,” Alex grumbled as he straightened his tie for the fifth time.

“Aww he’s nervous,” April laughed as she fastened her earrings. “How sweet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this flustered, Karev.”

“I’m not nervous,” Alex furrowed his brow and smoothed down his jacket. “I just want to look nice. Is that so bad?”

“Oh, he’s totally nervous,” Cristina snickered. “Twenty bucks says he makes a fool out of himself tonight.”

“Nah, I think he’s gonna get laid tonight,” Jackson’s lips curved up into a grin.

“Will you guys shut up already?” Alex huffed, annoyed at their constant meddling. “We’re going as friends. I already told you guys. I’m not rushing anything, I’m not pushing anything. And my goal isn’t to get into her pants.”

“I hate this mature, sappy side of you,” Cristina scowled in disgust. “You’re no fun anymore. What happened to filthy, diseased, manwhore Alex?”

“He fell in love,” Alex replied simply, gaining a slew of raised eyebrows and surprised looks from his friends.

“Woah he actually said it. He admitted that he’s in love with her,” April’s jaw dropped.

“Pay up, Avery,” Cristina extended her hand. “I told you he was gonna say it.”

“You guys suck,” Alex glared at them and stood up from the chair and walked towards the door. “I’m leaving. I’ll see you guys at the wedding.”

Alex walked out of the attendings lounge and over to the intern locker room, palms sweating. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. It wasn’t as if he and Jo hadn’t spent alone time together. They’d gone out to the bar and for pizza after work multiple times. This wasn’t anything they hadn’t done previously. Even in the before, when Jo and Alex weren’t nearly as close as they were now, the concept of the two of them going out alone wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But for some reason, Alex couldn’t slow the hammering of his heart as he approached the locker room.

Straightening his tie one more time and clearing his throat, Alex walked into the room. He felt his breath hitch in his throat as Jo walked out of the bathroom and mooted out her dress. Jo’s eyes widened as she saw Alex waiting in the doorway, dressed up in suit and tie, fidgeting nervously.

She blushed lightly when she noticed his staring, “You clean up nicely.”

“Thanks,” Alex smiled bashfully. “You… you look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Jo’s cheeks flushed at the compliment.

They stood there awkwardly for a second before Alex shook himself from his thoughts and spoke, “You ready to go?”

“Uh, yeah. I’m ready,” Jo answered and grabbed her purse, walking out the door Alex held open. “So… Bailey’s actually getting married today.”

“Yup,” Alex nodded.

“Guess that means the interns should stop calling her booty-call Bailey. Since she’s going to be a married woman and all,” Jo chuckled slightly.

Alex let out a snort. He’d forgotten about the nickname the interns had given Bailey his first year as a fellow, “Yeah… might be a good idea.”

*****

“Dude go talk to her,” Jackson urged Alex. “She’s been sitting at the bar alone for the last twenty minutes. You need to go over there before one of the groomsmen tries to pick her up and take her home tonight.

Alex shot Jackson a glare, “Shut up, no one is going to take her home tonight except me.” His eyes widened when realized how that sentence sounded. “I mean… I’m going to, I just… I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to say.”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get used to seeing you like this,” April took another sip of her wine. “Just have a conversation with her like a normal human being. Jackson is right. You can’t sit here forever.”

“I know that,” Alex groaned when April and Jackson’s pagers went off.

“Well, it looks like you’re going to have to go talk to her now because we are leaving,” Jackson smirked and held out his hand for April to follow him.

“Good luck Romeo,” April waved as she and Jackson walked away.

Alex exhaled and made his way over to the bar where Jo was sulking. Burying his hands in his pockets and plastering a nervous smile on his face, he motioned for the bartender, “Beer for me and another round for Hobo Jo. Let me guess… Thunderbird? Or is it straight paint thinner?” He grinned at the bartender. “You got a little brown paper bag you can put that in?”

“Stop that,” Jo rolled her eyes as a smile creeped its way onto her face. “I had no parents. I lived in my car. But you can’t exactly say you’re any better, “Mr. I went to juvie.’”

“Shut up,” Alex laughed. “At least you didn’t have to see your schizo mom go after your baby brother with a steak knife. Which reminds me - I should call and check on them. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, that might be a good idea,” Jo hummed. She looked down at the drink in her hand. “Where did Kepner and Avery go? I thought you were talking with them at the table.”

“They got paged for a trauma,” Alex answered.

“Do we have to go?” Jo stood up from the chair. “Let’s go.”

“Oh no,” Alex guided Jo back to her seat. “You don’t get to practice medicine with booze in your system. Besides, you’re on peds and we’re not needed.”

“But I wanted to get in on a cool trauma surgery,” Jo pouted.

“If you keep drinking like that, you’ll be the trauma case,” Alex quipped, eliciting a playful glare from Jo. “After this, no more paint thinner. I’ll buy you a couple beers, though. I know your limit on those.”

“Kill joy,” Jo responded and ordered a round of tequila shots, leaving Alex to stare in disbelief. “Oh come on, do at least one round of shots with me. I’m much more fun to be around when I’m drunk anyway.”

“Call me crazy, but I prefer you sober,” Alex pushed the shot glasses the bartender had placed in front of them away from Jo.

“Alex. Please,” Jo looked at him with wide eyes and stuck out her bottom lip.

“Really? Puppy dog eyes. You’re seriously going to go there?” Alex gave her an unimpressed look.

“Is it working?”

Not being able to say no to that face, Alex relented, "Fine. But only one round of shots and no more. I don't feel like throwing you over my shoulder and hauling your drunk ass out of here tonight."

"Why not? That sounds like fun," Jo's eyes shined brightly.

"Shut up," Alex rolled his eyes.

*****

"Oh my God, did you see his face?" Jo held her stomach as she cackled. "It was priceless. And your face! Your face when he walked in was hilarious."

"And then you threw the vodka shots at him," Alex wiped a couple tears. "Oh man… I haven't laughed like that in years."

It was true, the first time he'd experienced breaking into a stranger's hotel room in the before had been hilarious, but this time around was somehow funnier than he remembered it. Maybe it's because he knew Jo better in this reality. Knowing who she was made it easier to laugh with her and be himself.

Something that he was reminded of since waking up in this timeline was that he never had to be afraid to be himself with Jo. In this timeline as well as the previous one, she had immediately accepted him for who he was. It was an overwhelming realization. Before Jo, no one had simply accepted him for who he was and not who they wanted him to be. Sure his friends accepted him--eventually--but It wasn't without trying to change him first before realizing that this was who he was.

He fought the desire to just pull Jo into his arms and kiss her. He couldn't do that. Not when everything that happened in this timeline depended on the decisions he made going forward.

Still, Alex couldn't help himself as he stared at Jo who sat at the Kitchen island with a carefree smile on her face. So, he finally made his move, "Let's go out today. We both have off, we should do something fun, go somewhere nice.”

"Why would we go out when we can laze around and do nothing here?" Jo reached out for a banana that was in the bowl in front of her. "Besides, going out during the day isn't really our thing. If we go out it's usually for drinks after work and we inevitably end up back here and sit on the couch watching bad TV and joking around for hours until we fall asleep. Plus, I don't even want to think about alcohol after last night. And I definitely do not want to see the state of my liver."

Alex shook his head, "I'm not asking you to get day drunk with me. I'm asking you to go out with me."

Jo's jaw dropped and the banana in her hands fell onto the counter and her eyes looked as though they might bulge out of her skull at any second. She opened and closed her mouth a couple times before speaking, "Oh… You mean a… Oh!" She blinked at him a few times. "Alex… I'm just… I come with a lot of baggage--"

"I know, and that's okay," Alex assured her.

" I'm- I'm not ready to be with anyone yet," Jo attempted to let him down gently. "I like you, I really do. You're probably my best friend. But I need to fix my mess first. One day soon, I'll do it. I'll fix the mess in my brain and I'll be ready."

"Okay," Alex nodded. "Well, I'll be here when you are."

If Jo needed any confirmation or indicator as to what kind of man Alex was, that one comment was enough to crush any doubts she may have had about his character.

"You'd really do that? You'd wait?" She asked.

"Look, I'm going to say something that might freak you out a little because you get squirrely when you're scared, but Jo… I want you and I'm not going anywhere. I'll wait my whole damn life for you because you're worth it. You’re worth being waited on," Alex sighed, eyes softening at the woman sitting across from him. "For now, we're whatever you want us to be. You're taking the lead."

"Let's go out," Jo shrugged. "I mean, we're friends, right? We can still go out. Friends go out with each other."

"Yeah," Alex replied casually. "We can do that."

"Okay."

[sneezefiction]

dreaming of you

Sugawara x Reader - Scenario

@0hakaashi‘s request: “can I request suga with #11 (dreams)? ty💕”

a/n: sometimes you write fluff... sometimes that fluff is sickeningly sweet and makes you want to cry out of pure comfort and warmth. have a little taste of that with Sugawara tonight, my loves <3

warnings: none!

wc: 1750

---

Sugawara’s apartment has seen some pretty crazy things.

It witnessed that wild, drunk dancing phase of yours that knocked over way more than just a few breakable items. Your first kisses as a couple and endless domestic, morning pecks with the ever-so gentle boy. It watched as a multitude of sleepovers went from being strict study nights to early morning giggles thanks to distractions like a new song release, Napoleon Dynamite dance routine attempts, and melted ice cream on cherry-tinted lips.

The poster-covered walls knew you better than some of your closest friends. You’d left your mark there. With little, accidental chips and water-stains on wooden furniture. On that old, grey carpet that caught several pain-induced tears, while the rest of your crying was usually muffled by Suga’s thin, white t-shirts. By adding a toothbrush as well as shampoo and conditioner to his bathroom.

You, Sugawara, and this nostalgia-drenched apartment have experienced quite a lot.

And, even if it hasn’t all been perfect, you’ve been lavished in over a year's worth of sunkissed memories. Days that would always start snuggled up under his chin, feeling the reassuring rise and fall of his sturdy chest. With the tenderest of touches, he’d caress your cheek using the back of his hand every morning without fail. Every time you opened your eyes to his chestnut-brown irises, your heart would flutter involuntarily. 

It almost seems fake. That this world, which used to be dull and lifeless, could paint itself into a rainbow of colors only the two of you could see.

Once again, you’re splayed across his bed on your stomach, stopping the gentle sway of your legs and placing your phone down in front of you to see Suga’s silvery tufts of hair, his honey-brown eyes gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling.

You’d spent the night at his place again and, as per usual, the morning is quiet. The first 20 or so minutes filled with stretching, phone-scrolling, and snuggles.

He reaches his slender hands upward, stretching his arms toward the open air of the quiet bedroom.

A heavy, golden stream of sunlight casts the shadow of a window onto your wall, along with the outlines of his fingers and thumbs. But as soon as he loses interest in the gleaming sunrise colors that dripped down his hand, Suga drops his arm and lifts himself up to face you, seeking an answer.

Words as soft as a young bird’s feathers ruffle the silence of the cool air.

“Would you be mad if I got super cheesy right now?” Suga asks cooly, his question genuine.

You tilt your head, a small smirk forming because you’ve seen this face before. It’s the look you got before he lavished you with sweet sayings and almost sickening, lovey-dovey phrases.

You used to fuss at him, flick his forehead, cover your face in embarrassment… the whole nine-yards just to avoid his compliments and the tingly feelings that followed.

“I have a feeling you’re just gonna say it anyways, so you might as well.” You roll your eyes, propping yourself up on your elbows and using the palms of your hands to hold your chin.

“You know me so well.” A cheeky grin spreads across his face.

Suga shifts himself up and over to you as he gently lays his head onto your middle.

It’s a tingly, ticklish sensation. His consistent show of closeness and affection always had you melting into him, like clay being warmed by a careful potter's knowing hands. Your hands automatically start carding through his unreasonably soft hair and he hums into the touch before continuing his thoughts.

“Y/n, you’re so good to me.” He breathes out, beginning to build his web of thoughts.

“Things have just… flowed well for me ever since you came into my life.” Suga tilts his head back into your brushing fingers and strokes your thigh with the back of his hand.

“You always make me laugh, you understand me, and wow are you gorgeous. You’re pretty much perfect.” He says while a smile forms on his visage and heat rises to your own face along with a copycat smile of your own.

But the conversation takes an unusual turn.

“And, well, I dunno...”

“...sometimes it almost feels a bit unreal.”

He huffs out an amused sigh because the words sound much funnier out loud than they did in his head. But he might as well continue. You’ve heard him say much weirder, far more… questionable things.

You tug lightly at his sterling strands. With a soft, “Mhmm,” and an unseen smile, you prompt him to continue.

“I’m serious! You’ve somehow even managed to work your way into my dreams most nights, actually.” He admits, letting out a breathy laugh, your own soft giggle following.

He notes how nice it is to feel you laugh against his head, mentally snap-shotting the moment. But Sugawara wants to add one more thing, twisting the moment slightly. Something that could potentially pause that splendid laughter.

“...so when I wake up, I always wonder if you’ll actually still be there... y’know, with me...” The hand that was once twirling his hair now pauses its movements.

You shift yourself upwards so that you’re sitting with your back snug against the bed’s headboard, moving Suga’s head to be in the center of your lap.

With his face more readily availble to you, you’re now tracing the outline of his features while processing his words, gazing deeply into an unreadable expression.

“So you’re trying to tell me…” You brush a few strands of hair away from his eyes, cocking your head to the side with a look that says, ‘Are you being serious right now?’

“...that because things are going so well right now...”

You lean in closer to his face, which lays perpendicular to your own. “...hell, maybe a little too well...”

“...and because I somehow interfere with your subconscious while you’re asleep…” Your nose brushes gently against his, a small flush coloring his pale skin.

“...that you’re worried I might just up and leave you someday?” You quirk an eyebrow and a small smirk appears on your face.

It was an unfounded insecurity... and most insecurities don’t like to listen to logic.

He averts his gaze, a hint of embarrassment flashing in his eyes.

You hover over his face a little longer before tilting your head to ghost your lips meticulously over his.

Even though you’ve taken the initiative, it’s impossible to not get a little flustered with his minty breath gently fanning over your face. You become acutely aware of the subtle shifting of his hands, pressing ever so slightly into the bed at your close contact.

Suga’s golden-brown eyes close and just as he lifts his head off your lap to steal a kiss, you teasingly lean back earning the sweetest of pouts in return.

At your refusal to appease him, Suga rolls his head to the side, avoiding eye-contact with you.

“Well now I just feel silly.” He sulks, face jokingly downcast and blush lightly tinting the apples of his cheeks.

You can’t help but chuckle softly. Your boyfriend has always been a funny one, but it’s hard for you to believe that he would have so little faith in you. Even if it was a passing doubt, you never wanted him to think that the absence of good times meant that you would leave him too.

Because Suga had made a point of always being there.

Always sticking around. Never leaving you, a teammate, a family member, or even a lost stranger behind. He would take anyone by the hand and lead them to a safe place with utmost care. Hell, you bet that even in his dreams, he would still clasp your fingers tightly with his and not let go unless you absolutely begged him… though you doubt that the dream version of youself would ever be stupid enough to ask Suga to untwine your hand from his.

So you decide to be the cheesy one for a change.

You lean over him once more, but this time you use both of your palms to draw his face toward yours. A beautiful, squinty smile adorns your once teasing expression and greets his soft, pouty one. You proceed by blowing cool air into his eyes, causing him to shut them in mild discomfort, which allows you to sneakily take his lips into yours, melding them together tenderly.

He immediately responds by lifting up one of his hands to caress your face, deepening the sleepy, sunrise kiss.

It’s warm and comforting.

And as though a cool breeze had just brushed over your skin, you feel a shiver run down your arms when Suga gently tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth.

Sitting up a little, Sugawara finds himself taking in your saccharine taste. His thumb pleasantly skims over your cheek causing you to smile slightly, breaking the flow of the slow kiss.

As you pull away, you could almost melt at the adoring gaze Sugawara gifts you with. All he can do is blink gratefully at you while relishing in the rare, precious silence. He’s right in front of you, sitting up just enough for the sunlight to catch his silver hair, gracing it with a shimmering gold halo of sorts.

You let out a contented sigh and lean forward to place your forehead on top of his shoulder, inhaling his clean lavender scent. It’s fresh and soft. A little smoky even? It might be from that cologne you gave him last Christmas. Nostalgia combined with a hint of sweetly fragranced detergent. You hum into his white t-shirt and he rests his cheek onto the side of your head.

At his touch, you simply decide that he smells like home.

“Hey Suga…?” You whisper through the thin fabric of his shirt.

“Hmm?”

“You’re a little weird...” A humorous, closed-mouth smile forms on both of your faces.

“Hey now, I thought we were having a moment?” Suga sighs into your hair, some of the lose strands tickling your ear in the process.

“Let me finish!” You quietly huff in mock exasperation.

He nods and you sink a little deeper into the crook of his neck, prompting him to place his arms around you to pull you closer.

“I was gonna say: you’re a little weird, but I’m glad I’ve somehow made my way into your dreams.”

There’s a pause, a breath, and an exhalation.

“I’m glad because I always want to be with you. Whether it’s here in the real world or up there in your pretty little head.”

---

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @vintgicals, @moonlightaangel, @starboybokuto

(comment, dm, or send an ask to be added to my general tag list)

[manananggal]

I Wish I Had A Better Excuse, Like...

a/n: i read high tide at midnight again and i’m just - woof woof bark bark. beata is my trese oc. she’s an aswang raised by a hilot. stuff happened, and she becomes part of the diabolical crew. this is written mostly in english, but has a few tagalog phrases especially near the end. obviously i have no idea how to write fight scenes.

 ///

Beata is a bit nervous about today's spar.

Alexandra – well, considering that she practically took her in after the Incident™, that makes Alex her Bossing too, doesn't it? – informed her a few days ago that her Kuya would be joining them for training. Bossing didn't exactly say who, but it's not as if there's anyone else who'd join them.

She was still sort of hoping that it would be Sir Rick who'd be there - not that he ever joined them, but a girl can hope, can’t she? But when Beata saw the strong, looming figure in a salakót by the entrance of the gym, she couldn't help but be glad she brought the new sports bra she got from Valentina's Secret. It’s comfy, and she was only able to afford one because of a sale. It's powder-blue in color, with a sweetheart neckline that pushes her girls in the spotlight without the risk of them spilling out. 

She checks herself out in the ladies' room mirror and bites her lip. 

While her outfit looks great on her, like - instant boob job, because they look like  decent B-cup right now, and if she-saw-her-picture-in-a-dating-app-she'd-immediately-Swipe Right™, a knot of worry formed in the pit of her stomach.

There’s a voice at the back of her head that sounded like a mix of her mother and Sister Johanna from high school asking her just what the hell she thinks she’s doing. 

It’s effective enough to make her trudge back to her locker and dig through the bottom of her bag for a white, threadbare shirt which she tugs over her head right away.

"How the hell does Wari do that?" She grumbles, standing in front of the mirror again. Her reflection did nothing but throw her disgruntled expression right back. 

She could always ask Wari for tips, of course. But the Encanto would want to know why, and Beata doubts it will take her that long to figure out what's up, and it's not like she needed any more people on her case. With a sigh, Beata heads out, letting the wooden door swing behind her.

--

Carlos Trese, sans his usual salakot and armor, meets her near the center of the sparring mat. He's traded the usual maong for dark sweatpants, but the white camisa chino remained. His head is newly shaved, save for the close-cropped patch that emphasized the sharp widow's peak that everyone in the Trese clan seems to have.

The two of them gave each other the customary bow, an acknowledgment and a promise that neither is out to genuinely hurt the other. No claws and no weapons, but it doesn't mean that Carlos would be less than terrifying.

Beata exhales slowly as she slides into the first stance; her right leg in front of the other and bent slightly at the knees while her right arm extends forward as the left is positioned close to her chest, bent at the elbow, both palms facing the opponent.

Basilio yelling, "Kick his ass, Bibi!" from the sidelines didn't help settle her nerves. She stomped down the urge to stick her tongue out at him and kept her focus at her sparring partner.

She never expected Carlos to go easy on her, but what she didn't expect was him charging towards her right off the bat, and Beata yelps in surprise, barely able to block the oncoming punch. She takes a backward step as her left forearm deflects the hit. She could already feel the bruise forming, but Carlos left his chest unguarded – it could be a trap, or he could easily block any incoming hit, but Beata knows she's just fast enough to land one, and so she took the risk.

Beata was able to push Carlos backward as her right palm rushed forward, striking him flat on the chest.

"Nice, Beata." He says with a curt nod. "That was good."

Her eyes flickered to his face, and she was granted one of his rare smiles. It gave him a rather boyish look, less menacing and closer to the impish grins the Kambal would have on their faces.

And her heart decides it's a good time to speed up, to rattle inside her ribcage, and she knows,  she knows it's not because of the spar. Because if it was, then Beata wouldn't have the fluttering, jittery feeling in her gut now, would she?

It was mortifying, this silly, little torch she holds for the eldest Trese sibling. It started on the day he saved her from a gang of aswang. They needed her blood for some ritual. She was too out of it to remember, and not even Alex's spell helped her recall anything except for the flash of the Verdugo's blades and the pained shrieks of her captors.

In her foggy, half-delirious state, the warmth of his skin that seeped through his clothes was her beacon, and she remembered the way his voice reverberated through his body as he told her to hold on. She found out later that he carried her on his back, away from the rundown townhouse in Wack-Wack that served as her prison for a few days.

She'd been waitressing at the Diabolical for a month when he returned, and Alex – well, Bossing – introduced the two of them formally. Carlos Trese asked how she was doing as he shook her hand.

The contact lasted no more than ten seconds, but the feeling of how much bigger and warmer and more calloused his hand was compared to hers stayed long after he left.

Beata made the mistake of asking the worst person about Carlos. She was a few bottles in, with her head buzzing slightly, and the conversation flowed freely between her and the kambal.

It had been a casual question: 'Do you guys know if Carlos is seeing anyone?'

But those nine words were the beginning of the end, and she watched, like it was in slow motion, as the smile in Basilio's face stretched into a grin.

He, of course, told Hannah, who told Amie, who told someone else, and the news made its way to Hank. Beata's not sure who told Alexandra, but bossing knows everything that happens in her club.

"Ayos ka lang?" Carlos asks, a crease forming in the middle of his forehead.

She could only nod as it felt like something lodged itself down her throat.

--

The two of them have been at it for fifteen minutes, maybe more. It was a dance, a flurry of kicks and punches and dodges - 

She thought she'd been doing a pretty decent job holding her own against the force of nature that is Carlos Trese – she blocks, and she counters when needed, slips in a hit or two of her own whenever she sees a sliver of a chance. She is just bold enough to drive a spear-hand strike at his torso, one he was able to swiftly block and sends a countering side-elbow strike against her face. It made her leap backward, earning her a nod from him.

But he's not the Verdugo for nothing.

Beata was able to dodge the knee-strike he aimed at her middle section, but in doing so, missed the knife-hand strike headed at the side of her jaw.

Against her better judgment, the young woman froze, wrenching her eyes shut as she anticipated the oncoming strike.

But it's been a few seconds, and the pain hasn't registered. There was, however, a feeling of warmth on the side of her face. Ever so slowly, Beata opened one eye, daring to look up at her sparring partner, only to see him staring down at her with an expression she couldn't quite place and his fingers hovering just beside her temple.

"That would have been a lethal hit," He comments as he withdraws his hand. "Don't let your guard down easily, Beata."

Beata, the paragon of articulate speech that she is, could only manage a strangled sound that she hoped sounded affirmative. She knows her face is as red as a tomato, but it's not just because of the spar. Carlos wasn't wrong though, had it been a real fight, she wouldn't have to worry about her skincare routine anymore.

She slipped back into an offensive stance before launching herself at him.

--

Someone called for a break, and Beata, despite her endurance, was grateful as she all but dragged herself to the other side of the gym. She slumped on the bench, trying to catch her breath. Already, there is a dull throb that formed at the base of her neck. She presses her fingers against the sore spot, hoping that she still has Salonpas left in her drawer.

As she cooled down, she let her eyes wander to the only other people inside the gym.

She watched Alexandra walk a bit ways off, talking to someone on her phone.

She watched the Kambal, both dashing even in cotton shirts and jogging pants, goof off with each other. Basilio trying to do a fucking Jyuken stance is funny enough to pull a giggle from her. Even funnier was Crispin barking out corrections on how to do the pose right .

A few feet away from them, Carlos Trese's shoulders shook as he laughed. Who knows when was the last time he was able to just sit without having to worry about the next monster coming at him?

She thought she'd already calmed down until Carlos stood up and lifts up the bottom of his sleeveless shirt to wipe the sweat off his face.

Beata froze; the rim of her tumbler is just barely grazing her lips. She blinks a few times as what seemed to be a high-pitched, ear-splitting wail of a siren echoed inside her head.

She averts her eyes because she has dignity, dammit. She's not gonna gawk at him like a voyeur; she's definitely not gonna burn this image in her mind's eye and save this once she’s alone.

And he removes his shirt. Completely. Because she's not stressed enough as it is.

She's definitely  not  looking at him, or his chest, or his equally broad shoulders, or –  Oh. Of course, he's got a six-pack, damn it all  – or his biceps, or how his faded scars contrasted against the brown of his skin. His sweatpants hung low on his waist, and her eyes seemed to fixate at the gutters of his hips.

It's definitely not the reason why her heart starts pounding heavily or why her throat seems to suddenly run out of moisture when her tumbler is already half-empty.

"Alam mo, this is creepy, even for you." A voice pipes up beside her, making the young mananaggal jump from her seat. Had she lathered herself with lana, her wings would have sprouted, leaving her upper body in the air and her lower half losing balance, comedically toppling on the floor, spilling her guts in a literal sense.

Beata's head whips to the side. The grin on Basilio's face, eerily enough, matched the one on his bone-while mask. She'd been too caught up… well, looking, she hadn't noticed her friend pop up beside her. How long had he been there?

"How is me drinking water creepy?" Beata counters in a well-rehearsed deadpan. She doesn't need to be reminded how weird it is. She's fully aware, thank you very much.

Basilio chuckles, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Beata tries to scooch away in her seat, but his reach is way too long to be avoided. "You could just go for it and ask Kuya to stay for dinner, Bibi." He had the guts to actually wag his eyebrows at her.

"Ugh, Crispin?" She made a show of scoffing. "If what that girl from the wind tribe said is true, salamat na lang,"

"Bibi, you know I'm not talking about –  wait – what did she say about him?"

"Wala," Beata grimaces as she pushes away from the long-haired twin. "Also, couldn't you wipe yourself off bago ka mang-asar? Manghahawa ka pa ng lagkit, kadiri amp,”

Finally getting the message, Basilio himself scooted a good few inches away, letting her out of his grip.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched as he ran a hand against his other arm, muttering, "I'm not even that sweaty," to himself.

Beata rolls her eyes. Sometimes, it's really hard to imagine how the underworld trembles at the mere mention of The Kambal.

"Hoy teka – don't change the subject!" Basilio says, raising one hand to give her a light chop on the top of her head.

"Aray!" She glares at him. "Parang gago naman 'to eh! What was that for?!"

"Beata, just talk to Carlos," Basilio says seriously, the way he does when he's imitating his older brother. "I'm getting tired of you giving him puppy-dog eyes every time you see him –"

"I'm not –" She objects, glowering.

"– or you completely stuttering when he's near –"

"H-hindi kami close!"

"– or you suddenly disappearing into the kitchen when he's at the bar –"

"I was needed there!"

"– And you haven't actually spoken with him, have you?"

"I-I've talked to him!"

"Yeah. Once."

"Point still stands that I was able to hold a conversation,"

"Telling him that Bossing isn't at the club doesn't count as a conversation, Bibi-girl." He winks.

"Sure, it does. He even said thank you before leaving," She insists. "And I sparred against him today. So… so there."

"Well, you wore that new sports bra for him, and he didn’t notice,"

Her mouth fell open. "H-huy, gago, hindi!"

Basilio's eyes widened at how squeaky her voice came out. "I was teasing! Oh shit, you really did, didn't you?"

"Oh, my God," She groans, burying her face in her hands. "I hate you so much,"

Beside her, he all but exploded with laughter, and Beata was so, so tempted to see if his regeneration abilities could keep up if she started to rip out his arms just before the next one grows.

"Don't worry, Bibi. I won't tell,"

"Sure you won't."

"I mean, you never wear that when you're up against Kuya and me,"

"Shut it, Basilio," She moaned, face still hidden.

He touched his shoulder to hers. "Yiie, dalaga na siya..."

"Para kang gago,"

"He's got big feet…" He goes on.

"No, Basilio. Just... no."

"And you know what they say about men who've got big feet." A pause, and then. "I mean, I would know…"

"Isa pa, ha. Pag 'di ka talaga tumigil, sinasabi ko sa ‘yo... ”

Basilio's laugh echoes throughout the gym.

[whatabitchiam]

May I?

****DISCLAIMER: This is a modern oneshot about elucien,. nothing on the ship tho. I just love both of em.

fluff+smut(kinda?)

She was a shy girl. Never talked about anything; certainly not about others. She was a girl of wonders and latent miracles then, he always thought. She looked like the queen of the day in her cute little outfits paired with a perfect hair. She was a not much of an attention seeker, but guys did talk about her and stared at her while she walked down the hallways. It made him angry-why? - he never knew, he just had a burning pang of jealousy. She had hidden potential and a strength he knew not how. She must be like the blazing sun on winter morning, a girl to warm even the coldest of glaciers, he always thought.

Lucien sighed.

“And what it is that made you sigh before the sday started when I didn’t even wake up to bring you trouble?” chimed Vassa as a greeting.

“Nothing. Im gonna get ready,” he added while pacing towards his room.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

   Lucien was a good looking, handsome piece for girl too pine over in every way possible. He had a golden-brown skin paired with shoulder length russet hair and eyes, a muscular body every one wants. What made it better was his immaculate taste of dressing whether it was casual or fancy. Most of the girls of the high school had a fantasy to be the girl beside Lucien Vanserra but he never gave any signs to be interested in anyone. He was a guy of one-time hookups with girls he hadn’t found eyesore, which were few. He was excellently good with his grades and easily the best athlete of the year. But what made him nervous was his English class with Elain Archeron, the girl with sunshine smile. They never talked though, weird, he always thought. Because he always felt he knew her.

“Get your ass out of the car, sweetcakes. We are here,” Vassa broke his chain of thoughts.

“Okay. Should I wait for you?”

“No, you go ahead. There’s Jurian waiting for me,” Vassa waved to a figure at a distance.

Jurian and Vassa had been now dating for three years, a classic bickering turned into high school love. Lucien found it adorable though.

“Kayy, will meet you lot during lunch” and started towards the school.

The hallway was still a bit deserted. Students were yet to file the place. He reached for his locker when he heard some catcalls. He looked around to find out what’s going on, only to find a few girls meddling with Elain. He knew better than to simply interfere but it made him angry. It was Briallyn and her cronies, easily the meanest and most plastic girls he had known. He saw one shove Elain and she fell. They laughed at her and sashayed away.

Bitches, he thought and walked over to where Elain was arranging the things spilled from her bag.  

He offered her a hand and,

“May I?”

His first words to her and his heart made a jolt at the realization. She looked up and he met those lovely brown eyes.

“Sure,” her voice was a floral pathway. She took his hand and stood up. Her palm was as soft as marsh mellows.  

“Thank you so much,” she said and he was so absorbed in her face, he didn’t register what she said.

“Um, sorry, what did you say?”

“I said thank you, Lucien. Where are you lost?” she offered a sweet smile.

“Nowhere. You know my name?” the surprise in his voice was obvious because he thought she never noticed him.

“of course, I do. We have English together and we sit beside each other every day, you dummy,” she laughed, “Besides, who wouldn’t know Lucien Vanserra, huh?”

His cheeks were flustered and red, “Oh shut up,” he muttered.

“Why deny it, bud?” she only replied while answering a text on her phone.

“What do you have on first period?” he changed the topic. She was not as shy as he thought. She WAS full of surprises. An introvert with cute personality, ambivert, he thought.

“Boring, old chem. You?” she looked up.

“Boring, old history,” he imitated and she laughed.

“Okay, let’s not get late. And thank you again. See you at English,” she started off.

“Elain, wait up,” Lucien hollered and jogged up to her.

“What is it?

“Would you like to sit with us at lunch?” her eyes widened.

“Are you sure? B-but wouldn’t your friends mind?”

She sounded worried.

“No, they wouldn’t at all,” Lucien scuffed, Vassa loved new people, “Would you?”

“Sure. Nobody ever offered me before,” she mumbled.

“Well, its finally nice to meet you, Elain Archeron,” he offered a hand.

“You too, Vanserra,” she took his hand and shook it, smiling at him.

He never felt this contented while he headed to boring, old History.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Elain hadn’t felt this content for a long time. When Lucien Vanserra asked her to join her at lunch. She was very nervous but Lucien’s easy smile had made her feel better. He was a good guy, no, a great guy- she thought. After the day he had extended a hand, it felt like he had extended a hand to a new life. She was pleased with her quiet life but not happy. Vassa was quite pleasant too. She was way funnier than she appeared to be. She went to parties, went out and had been included in a group, she felt nice. And there was always a Lucien to help her with anything. Once she was distraught from a nightmare when she called him, and he was there all-night cracking jokes over phone. She felt a tug towards him, a feeling she couldn’t really explain. But not seeing him for a day now made her uneasy. She wasn’t closed off with him around, she only felt more braver and daring though.

And now she waited for him in front of her house while thinking how one extended hand had changed so many things.  

A car honked. There he is, looking handsome in his excellent choice of clothing.

“Hi” she said while climbing into the car.

“Hey, you look good today,”

“Thanks, bud,” she smiled to herself before adding, “Where are we going today? Where’s Vassa and Jurian?”

“Well, it’s just you and me today. They’ve gone to a date.”

“Oh. So, what are we doing today?”

“We’re going to the beach.”

“Now? But its way past the sunset,” she sounded a bit surprised.

“You’ve never been to the beach at night?” now he was the one to sound surprised.

“No,”

“Let me be your first, then. My father owns a cottage on the shore. It’s beautiful, you’ll love it when you see the garden,” he gave her that smile. There were butterflies in her stomach. Oh fuck.

“Elain?”

“Yes?”

“I’m glad we are friends,” he was looking so flushed and adorable, she reached out and kissed his cheek.

His eyes widened.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Lucien, if it made you awkward-,” she started but he laughed it off.

He said, “You can do whatever you want to do with me. I’m at your service ma’am,”

She laughed and looked out the window. They were almost there and it was beautiful, as Lucien said.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

 Lucien felt a bit nervous around Elain today. He couldn’t figure out why when he was always easy with her. She now surveyed the cottage and the view with her cute little exclaims.

They settled at the beach on a blanket and two bottles of beers. They were lying down and kind of leaning on to each other. Elain was laughing at something he had said and was leaning on her elbow when she looked up to him, directly into his eyes. It took all his self-control to restrain himself from kissing her.

All of a sudden, something shifted.

As if she heard his thought, felt it.

Because one moment she was beside him and then on top of him the next. And then, her lips met his.

He was shocked. But before he kissed back, she withdrew and said, “I’m so sorry. It’s okay if you don’t want it-”

But he wanted nothing more than this. So, he said nothing.

He just brought his mouth to hers and dived into the madness he had hidden for so long.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………

  Elain didn’t know what she was doing. She was just… doing. It felt so right to her. She just fit in with him in every way possible. Staring at his face while he was talking, a sound as deep as the ocean as well as a mere whisper. A look on his face made her sit on him and kiss like a maniac. He hadn’t kissed back and she regretted right away. She had ruined the friendship, now she’d be lonely again. She started to explain him.

But…

His lips came to her, claimed her.

She didn’t have time to think. She kissed back as much as she could. He tasted of beer and autumn breeze. And so good, was so good. Oh god.

She slid her hands around hands his neck and snaked them into hair and grabbed it. She needed him closer, she wanted- needed- more.

She didn’t know when their tongue made their way to each other and caressed each other.

She pulled away first. They both panted as they stared at each other.

“I wasn’t anticipating this today,” Lucien murmured as he put his mouth on the pulse on her neck and sucked. She moaned again and whispered,

“Can we take this inside?” she swallowed before she added, “I need you closer.”

Lucien’s eyes shot up to her, bewildered.

“Are you sure, Elain? You don’t have to-” he started.

But she interrupted him by pulling his mouth to hers and placed a kissed and said, “I am surer than ever. Take me inside,” she commanded. She didn’t know where the courage came from. Certainly not, when she never kissed before.

Lucien carried her inside with feather soft kisses all over her which she returned generously. As Lucien placed her on the bed gently, she pulled him onto him and kissed him again, being needy.

“So greedy, huh?” he laughed again her lips.

“You will be for me, Lucien,” she replied as she pulled his shirt off, continuing to remove hers.

“You know you shouldn’t rush it,”

“I don’t want your cock in me so soon. I don’t give that satisfaction,” she didn’t know that she had it in herself to talk this way.

“oh really? Then what do you want?”

“Touch me. Taste me.”

“I’d love to,” he moaned as she pressed a hand down his length, “I never knew you were so dominating. Do you know how hot you sound?”

“You are yet to know me,” Elain brought her mouth to him again. Lucien’s hand made its way all the way down where he reached the lines of her underwear. He cupped her and swore at how drenched it was. She grinded against his hand and ordered, “Take them down, now.

He peeled those off and marveled at how beautiful she was, his eyes full of desire. He touched her and swore at the wetness. He continued to give her what she wanted, but not quite. She writhed and gasped when he slid a finger inside her while circling her clit. She was so close to the edge; she gripped the bedsheet to control. All of a sudden, he stopped and she writhed and rubbed at the emptiness. Lucien gave her a wicked smile and lowered his mouth to suck on her clit. He kept sucking and stroking with his tongue, and Elain, she couldn’t grasp the feeling. She was seeing stars and was swarming. She screamed his name as she came. The feeling, she couldn’t handle. She touched herself a few times, but this was just too much. She didn’t want him to stop yet she couldn’t handle anymore. Lucien kept it going again and again. She came again and again. After a long time, he finally removed his mouth and kissed her. Exhaustion dawned on her but she pulled him to her. He laid beside her and hugged her. She put her head on his chest and drank in the scent, drank his very existence as if an expensive bottle of wine.

“You don’t how much I wanted this, wanted you,”

“You don’t how much I yearned for you, either,”

“I wish I can have this with you every day,” he sighed”

“May I?” she looked up to him. His eyes shone.

A yes.

The words he gave her the very first time.

[alittlebitgoofy]

if you want it make a move (taywhora)

part 2!! surprised i did this so quick but motivation happens, I'm not sure if it went right, I'm still new to this but we trying. we stan emerald for betaing, love it when someone is shocked i write canon compliant now skdjhfksjdf

title is from yours by now now

ao3 link 

The drive home was monotonous, despite the entertainment of Bimini next to him. Tayce felt the hangover from last night dully present throughout the day. It filled him with a bit of dread to realise tonight would end up much the same. Perhaps he could hold back on the alcohol, though with A’whora around, that didn’t seem like a possibility. He hated the taste of it and yet loved to get drunk with people. Tayce learnt that one after many a night of drinking. The more he had, the more he’d egg Tayce on. It led to many horrible hangovers but it was part of what made his roommate so fun.

Speaking of A’whora, said roommate was constantly texting him. Clearly, the clingy behavior wasn’t just a result of the alcohol. Tayce chalked it up to excitement. A’whora loved a party and celebrating the end of their journey on the show was something they had to do. They wanted to send it off well and have a fun night to remember.

“Is that A’whora again? Swear she never leaves you to breathe.” Bimini giggled as Tayce’s phone vibrated again. He could only laugh it off, knowing the connotations of it all but not wanting to deal with that. The sexual tension was the most annoying thing, Bimini knew his aversion to it but it made jokes all the funnier to most people.

“He’s a right hound, was drunk calling me last night asking when I'll get home when I’d already told him.” Tayce couldn’t help but smile a bit in memory of the night before. It was stupid and by no means should have entertained him but there was something cute about someone so genuinely missing him after only a day apart. This was their thing to celebrate and he craved it as much as his roommate did.

“Aww, he misses you. That’s cute.”

Bimini teased, with Tayce barely able to hide the blush forming at the idea of it all. There was a part of him that missed the idiot when he wasn’t around. Something about his goofy smile, dimples showing whenever he barked out a laugh that was reminiscent of a seal. It made his heart squeeze in a way no one else could. The absolute hound, having the gall to be that cute.

He stayed uncharacteristically quiet, participating in conversation with Bimini every so often but staring out the window texting A’whora more than anything. Thankfully Bimini didn’t comment on it, assuming it was the hangover and not the thought of the clingy boy he called his best friend.

---

The realisation that Tayce didn’t have his phone had come quickly after entering the door. A’whora was there offering his own to call and sort the situation. It came to the conclusion of them mailing it back, with Tayce frustrated about the amount of time without his phone but thankful it was safe and he’d get it back.

A’whora helped take his mind off it, jumping at the chance to pull him into a tight hug and whisper how good he was in the finale. It was a brief moment, and Tayce wanted nothing more than to throw his bag in his room and chill out for a bit before they started celebrating.

The table that got set up was nostalgic, it looked like a kids party, with party rings, sausage rolls. The staples of a party for children, but it added to the warmth bubbling up in Tayce. They’d gotten a huge cake from some company he’d forgotten the second A’whora told him.

A’whora seemed delighted by it all, reveling in how the table was set up. Tayce couldn’t help but laugh at how focused he was on the aesthetics, always the designer.

“Wonder how easy it’ll be for you to get drunk, my favourite lightweight.” Tayce smirked, poking A’whora’s shoulder as he let out a huff.

“I am not! You can’t drink that much more than me anyway, you hound!” He exclaimed, gently shoving Tayce in protest.

“You take 3 or 4 drinks to get tipsy, don’t kid yourself.” He deadpanned, A’whora pouting in response, refusing to confirm or deny the statement though they both knew it was true.

His guess was right, on the fourth drink A’whora was sneaking closer, clumsily trying to get his attention without causing too much of a distraction. Their roommates would hound them the second they realised something may be going on but he was too busy buzzing from the alcohol and close proximity to Tayce to care.

Tayce himself wasn’t far off, a few drinks in, beginning to feel the alcohol in his system. Though there were some shots involved too, he still wasn’t as bad as the mess nestled into him.

A’whora was glued to his side for most of the night; the more drinks, the more giddy the pair became. Everything felt real now, the show had ended and it was supposed to be sad but in the company of each other it wasn’t. They were so glad it happened, reflecting on it all and sending it off like this just felt right.

“I’m so glad we got to do all of this, isn’t it wonderful?” A’whora mused, briefly philosophical before turning his attention back to the cake in his lap. He kept leaning over to offer Tayce some, despite being fully capable of getting his own slice, this felt better. He felt something in him flutter at the affection.

“Yeah, feels like we’re free now, we got on the show, we did it. Now we get to live our best lives with that experience,” Tayce agreed, and even though it amused him a bit to see A’whora become a suddenly philosophical drunk, he had a point.

“You did so well in the finale, I’m so proud of you.” A’whora turned to him, soft brown eyes shining with admiration. Tayce wanted to avoid the gaze, to avoid dealing with the emotions it brought but that was just his talent. He looked so genuine in the statement, Tayce had never needed someone else’s approval, though this felt different. It wasn’t in the same way people always said it. A’whora genuinely looked up to him, it was cute.

“It was fun, I think we all knew Bim or Lawrence was going to win, took a lot of pressure off of my shoulders.”

“You’re my winner.” He didn’t try to hide the tenderness in his voice. The brown-haired man stared at Tayce like he was the only person in the world. His smile melted Tayce down to his core, pulling down any walls to just focus on him, here and now.

“You’re such a softie.” Tayce’s voice was also tender, pulling the smaller man into his arms, as if he needed protecting from anything in the silent room.

It was at that point he noticed everyone had gone, that it was just him and A’whora in the room, so much space around them but unable to pull themselves apart.

He shifted in Tayce’s arms, turning to face him. His face morphed between a few things, at first neutral, then into a goofy smile before something more thoughtful, Tayce knowing the look all too well. He was going to ask something, possibly something Tayce didn’t want to answer and it would be hard to say no to those eyes.

“Tayce, why do you never talk about your feelings?”

There it was. The emotional drunk A’whora, wanting nothing more than to open himself up and have someone do the same in return. Tayce wasn’t closed off to the idea, though he hated to be pried open. It was his choice, and no matter how much he trusted A’whora, he wouldn’t be able to do it on demand.

“I do, just don’t spill my vulnerability because that’s not how I deal with it.”

“You know what I mean, you’re never fully open with me. LIke I’m always the one bearing my heart and you shut yours out even when it’s only us.” A’whora frowned, eyes falling to the ground. It looked like tears were starting to build up, Tayce not knowing if he had it in him to deal with emotional crying drunk A’whora while he was gone himself.

“I know you don’t like being vulnerable, but I can tell you have feelings. Wouldn’t it be easier if you admitted it? We could be happy, but you just want to hide that part away, like it’ll go away when it clearly hasn’t.” A’whora continued, not waiting for a response and cutting Tayce deep. He was speechless, he knew deep down they were both aware of it, but it hit differently to hear it said out loud. His face spoke for him, eyes wide and flickering everywhere that wasn’t his roommate. This wasn’t a conversation you had while drunk, but it seemed like he didn’t have much of a choice with A’whora’s persistence.

Tayce tried to formulate his response, to honestly tell A’whora about his fears, not wanting to ruin the strong friendship they had and not feeling like a relationship would be good. It could work, they both knew it. They got along so well; they had amazing chemistry. The only thing stopping them was the hesitance.

The only thing stopping them was Tayce.

Maybe he should stop getting in his own way, and let himself try something outside of his comfort zone. Relationships were the one no-go in his life but why did they have to be? He didn’t have to be powerless at the idea. A’whora deserved better. So he kissed him, not waiting to think it through. A’whora was startled at first, but returned it enthusiastically, his arm snaking its way around Tayce’s shoulder to pull him in ever so closer.

They fell apart, trying to catch their breath as Tayce noticed the blush on A’whora’s face.

“Are you blushing? You give me this whole speech and you’re taken aback when I do something about it? You’re adorable.” Tayce’s face lit up, poking A’whora’s cheek and delighting in how flustered he looked.

“I’m not! The alcohol is making my body warm, you hound!” He futilely protested, blushing further as Tayce snuck closer, hand placed firmly on his chest to feel his racing heart.

“You’re an awful liar, it’s cute.”

A’whora jokingly shoved him, hiding his face in his hands as if it would help the situation.

“So do you want to do something about it? You were all talk last night, back it up, Georgie.”

If A’whora had anything left in him, it fled his body at that. He was left like a statue frozen at Tayce’s sudden shift. He could only lean into his hands as one cupped his face, pulling him into a more desperate kiss. Tayce wanted him, and he would let him have everything.

[this-idiots-left-eye]

In Plain Sight

Cover art by Stlyrica on instagram!! I’ll put a link to it in a reblog!!

Fandom: Pandora Hearts

Summary: When Break hides Gilbert's favorite Christmas ornament somewhere in the Rainsworth manor, the Golden Trio must spend the afternoon looking for it. But why is it so special to Gil?

Notes: I originally wrote this for the prompt "Ornaments" in an alphabetical Christmas prompt list my friends and I did in 2017--(it was going to be part of a group of Christmas fics we all wrote for different fandoms. Some of the people in that group hadn't read PH, so that's why this fic has some explanations for who the characters are). Then I posted it for Pandora Hearts Month 2018 for the Golden Trio Prompt: Friendship. I hope you like it! I would really appreciate it if you could reblog and/or leave a comment to let me know if you enjoyed it!

*

“You’re the tallest, Gil, you should put the star on top!”

“Ooh! It looks yummy! Like a big cookie!”

“It’s not a cookie, Stupid Rabbit!”

It was a few days before Christmas, and the trio was at the Rainsworth manor. Finally, everything was ready for the holiday; a fire was dancing in its place, the stockings were all lined up on the mantle, and they had just put the finishing touches on the tree. The only one who hadn’t been informed about the festive season, was the sky outside; it had been raining for the past few weeks. There was a chill in the air, it was frosty, but snow hadn’t quite come yet. Still, they made the most of their time indoors.

“Perfect!” Oz exclaimed.

Oz Vessalius was the fifteen-year-old heir to the Vessalius dukedom, but after his escape from the Abyss that year, when he wasn’t off on adventures, and missions, he spent most of his time at the Rainsworth’s.

“It’s so pretty, Onii-chan!”

On account of the ten-year gap, Oz’s sister, Ada, was older than Oz now, but, no matter what, she would never stop seeing him as her older brother. She was on Christmas break from Lutwidge Academy, and more than happy to spend it at the Rainsworths, with her brother. She had, of course, brought her two cats—Snowdrop and Kitty—with her, (which Gilbert maintained a healthy distance from, due to his phobia of cats).

“The Rainsworths will have the best-decorated tree in town!”

Oscar, their uncle, was spending the afternoon with his niece and nephew too. He was a bearded, bespectacled man, with the same blonde hair and green eyes as the rest of his family. At the moment, he was sitting on one of the couches, with a cup what he called ‘tea’, but which the rest of them guessed probably had something stronger in it.

“I can’t take all the credit, Gil and Alice helped a little,” Oz joked.

“‘A little!’”

Gilbert was Oz’s servant; a dark-haired man, who often appeared cold and reserved, but who was rather sensitive, and a worrywart. He still sometimes acted as though they were only a year apart in age too, despite the fact that he was now ten years older than his master.

“Yeah, manservant!” Alice challenged, “More like we did all the work!”

“I was just teasing!”

“Well,” Sharon had a way of returning things to order with her calm and proper words, “you all did a wonderful job.”

Sharon was the heiress to the Rainsworth dukedom, and looked like a thirteen-year-old girl, though was really in her twenties or thirties—(they knew better than to ask her exact age). Her chestnut hair was usually tied back into a kind of half-ponytail, and, as always, she outmatched them all on style points; today it was with a dress of a wintery blue that looked as if she was trying to encourage the snow to fall. As per usual, she held a cup of tea in one hand—peppermint, she had informed them, for the Christmas season—and a pastry in the other. She was sitting at a small round table on the other side of the room, with Reim—duke Barma’s bespectacled, hard working, servant, who spent more time at the Rainsworth’s than anywhere else, with his two best friends—Sharon and Break.

“Well, I’m beat,” Alice stretched and yawned, “Seaweed-head, when are you going to make me some meat?”

Most Chains (creatures from the Abyss) didn’t look like Alice did; like a fourteen-year-old girl, with floor length brown hair, and an almost cat-like physique—(though it was a giant rabbit she often turned into). Also unlike other illegally contracted Chains, she did not have a thirst for human blood, although she did have a particular love for meat, as well as almost anything edible.

“I suppose I can make you something, now that we’ve finished,” Gil sighed.

“Oh? Have you now?” they turned to see Sharon’s servant, Xerxes Break, grinning as he poured himself another cup of tea. “Are you sure nothing’s…” he leaned back against the table, “missing?”

Break was a red-eyed, white-haired man, also much older than he looked. Even those close to him would say he was a bit of an acquired taste; his love for teasing, the creepy doll on his shoulder, and his general lack of regard for other people and their feelings, made it difficult for those subject to his mischiefs—such as Gilbert—to acquire any kind of affection for him.

Gilbert froze, turning his head slowly to the tree. His eyes immediately found the empty space where a certain ornament had been.

“Break!” he shouted, spinning back to him, “Must you do this every year?!”

“Let an old man have his fun.” Break grinned.

“I believe he must, Gilbert-sama,” Sharon answered Gilbert’s question, nonchalantly taking a sip of tea before continuing, “It has become something of a tradition.”

“I should have spent Christmas with he Nightrays this year,” Gilbert grumbled, reluctance in his motions as he began to pick up books, and other objects around the room, as if searching.

“You’re so mean,” Break chided playfully, then spoke a little more seriously, knowing Gilbert had no intentions of spending much time with his adoptive family, and real brother, “You’d rather spend Christmas with the sewer rat, than us?”

Gil gave him a death glare.

“Sorry…but what’s a tradition?” Oz asked, turning to Sharon and Break.

He wouldn’t admit it, but sometimes, especially with things like this, the ten-year gap could make Oz feel like an outsider.

“Every year Break takes Gilbert-sama’s favorite ornament,” Sharon explained, “And hides it somewhere in the manor.”

“Ooh! That sounds like fun!”

“It’s not fun, Oz!” Gilbert hollered at his master, “It’s a waste of a perfectly good afternoon! Not to mention annoying, and rude!”

Break laughed. Gil had yet to learn his outrageous reactions were what made this sort of thing so fun for the prankster.

“Don’t worry, Gil!” Ada bounded up to him, “I’ll help you look!”

Gilbert flushed, “T-Thank you.”

“What does it look like, Gil?”

He looked at Oz, then turned back to Ada, and explained it quietly enough that only she could hear.

She nodded, beaming, and began to look in a different part of the room.

“What’s the matter, Gil?”—Gil gasped as his master appeared suddenly at his other side—“You don’t want me to know what it is?” Oz’s laugh faded into a more puzzled expression when Gil averted his eyes, turning redder.

“It’s a secret, Onii-chan!” Ada answered for him, “You’ll see when we find it!”

He didn’t get the chance to ask anything more, because Alice broke in, having been observing all their interactions,

“Does…Does this mean I won’t get my meat?”

“Uh huh,” Gilbert sighed, “That’s exactly what it means.”

“No! I will not allow it!” Alice shook her head, and whirled around on Break, pointing at him in an accusatory manner, “Clown! Return Seaweed-head’s stupid ornament his instant!”

“It’s not stupid, Stupid Rabbit!”

“Aren’t you a spoilsport?” The Mad Hatter teased, then the doll on his shoulder, Emily, finished,

“Why should I listen to some dumb bunny?”

Alice growled, her hands clenching into fists. She spun to Gilbert, declaring as she ran up to him,“Then I won’t rest until I find that ornament! With the great Alice-sama on your side, you cannot fail!”

“Sure you won’t just get in the way?”

She kicked him in the shin, crossing her arms, “You’d be lost without me, Seaweed-head.”

“Don’t kick me, Stupid rabbit!” he rubbed his leg, “Now go look for it over there!” he stamped his injured foot back down and pointed to the opposite corner of the room, (to which she quickly ran, proceeding to tear her designated space apart in a matter of seconds.)

“Is this ornament really all that important, Gil? I mean, we have lots of—”

“Yes!” he answered before his master could finish, “it is!”

Oz sighed, knowing how attached his servant could get to things, “Alright. So…is us helping against the rules?” he asked, watching Alice destroy the room in search of it, Ada calmly remove things, and put them back where they were meant to go, and Gil as a mix of the two.

“Don’t you think we would have stopped them if it was, Oz-kun?”

Sharon shook her head, “It doesn’t matter who finds it, watching him search is the fun part.” Her mischievous side was showing; most of the time she was this prim and proper lady, but being close to Break had its effects.

“That’s right; the more people searching, the funnier it is when they can’t find it,” Break sang. “Though, tell me, Ojousama,” he turned to his mistress “are you merely saying that because you wagered he’d find it early—before 18:00?” he asked knowingly, sitting up on the table—(Reim gave him a look that could only be interpreted as: can-you act-any-less-like-a-servant?)

They turned to the clock—it was 15:00.

“Why do you want to know, Break?” his mistress asked with a tone of false interest, “Are you afraid your skills as a prankster have gone down with age?” she patted her mouth innocently with a napkin.

“What do you take me for, Ojousama?” he smirked, crossing his legs, narrowing his eyes at Gilbert, “He’ll need all the help he can get.”

Gilbert returned to him an even more murderous look.

“You… betted on this?”

“All part of the tradition, Oz-kun,” Break mentioned, stealing a mini pastry from Reim’s plate—(the incense was more than evident on Reim’s face, and probably why Break did it).

“It’s not money we wagered, though; If I win, Break has to swear off sweets over Christmas—as well as make me a lavish dessert full of those sweet things he can’t have. And if Break wins, I have to buy him an equally lavish amount of extra Christmas candy and sweets.”

“Nice! Break, I didn’t know you could bake!”

“He really can’t,” Sharon chuckled, “But it’s fun to see what he comes up with.”

Break glared at her.

“So… is this how you bet every year?”

“Sometimes it’s different. But it’s usually something to the effect of giving Break a taste of his own medicine…Though I seem to recall one year, I wanted Break to do this dance I had heard of in a book, if he lost. I believe it was called ‘Futterwacken.’”

“That’s a weird name for a dance!” Oz laughed, “So? How did that go?

“I suppose it is,” she smiled, “That was one of the tamer punishments, but, when he did lose, he refused—rather blatantly.”

“Really?!” he turned to Break.

“How many times must I tell you? I have no talent for dancing.”

“Truly, as a servant of the Rainsworth Dukedom, it would be better fitting that you learned,” she shook her head, then turned back to Oz, “Anyway, after that, we thought the chance to take away his candy was rather enjoyable.”

“Aw, I want to join the bet!”

Gilbert looked affronted, but before he could speak, Oz continued, boyish excitement simmering in his tone,

“Say, what if, if Break loses, I get to eat his candy instead?!”

Sharon and Break glanced at each other.

“Let me ask you something, Oz-kun;” Break set down his tea, “Are you willing to risk the consequences of such a wager?”

“Ehh…consequences?”

“Why of course. I couldn’t give little Oz-kun the chance of stealing my candy without the proper torment in store if he lost.”

“Eh…” Oz knew just how mean Break could get, and that this could very well turn into a prank war that ended in actual blood, “I think I’ll pass.”

“I always said you were smarter than you looked,” the Mad Hatter picked up his tea again.

“Maybe you could join in by helping me look, instead of encouraging them, Oz!” Gilbert whirled on him.

“Aww, do I have to?” the fifteen-year-old groaned.

“Oz!”

Oz turned to the masterminds, as if silently asking for them to give him an excuse not to.

“Hey, Oz-kun is sharp,” Break began, then Emily added,

“Probably smarter than these three put together!”

—two of the aforementioned three gave him what can only be described as ‘fight-me’ faces, and Ada looked disheartened—Break took no notice, and finished,

“So that depends; whose side are you on?”

“Well,” Oz thought for a moment, then mused, grinning, “it would be fun to see Break trying to swear of candy!”

“Is that so?” Break’s eye narrowed.

“In any case, why isn’t Reim-san helping?” he shifted the focus. “You’re not the kind of person to sit back while others are in trouble”

Reim sighed, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “While that may be true, these two are often harsher with me, than others. If I help you, I have a feeling I shall pay for it in some way later,” he shot them an icy look, “dearly.”

“Whatever do you mean, Reim-san?” Sharon asked innocently. “We thought you enjoyed our company.”

“Yeah, it’s only because you’re our favorite, Reim-san,” Break gave a fake sappy voice.

“Then pick a new favorite!”

“That’s not how it works! You have a lifetime guarantee!”

“Sharon,” it was Ada who spoke. She had been focused on searching on the mantelpiece, and inside the stockings, “Why are there nine stockings?”

“What do you mean, Ada?” Oz asked, stepping over to her.

“Well, I was just thinking; there’s me, Onii-chan, Uncle, and Alice,”—Alice looked annoyed at Ada mentioning her name—“since we’re staying here for Christmas,” she pointed at each of the stockings in turn, “and these belong to Sharon-sama, Break, Duchess Rainsworth-sama, and Reim-san, right? But who does this last one belong to?” she held the bottom of the last one, careful not to pull it off the mantle.

They turned to Break and Sharon, who glanced at each other, their mischievous grins fading into more somber, reminiscent expressions.

“It was Break’s idea,” Sharon answered.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit—“

“It’s for my mother…That has become something of a tradition as well. We just thought it would be nice, to have something to remember her by during the Christmas season.”

The tone in the room quieted; the rest of them knew that Shelly was Sharon’s mother, who had died sometime after Oz’s coming of age ceremony.

“That’s…actually really sweet,” Oz noted, “Break, I’m surprised you thought of it!”

“You think you’re cute, don’t you? And you say that like I’m cruel.”

“Well…” Oz rubbed the back of his neck, smiling nervously, trying to formulate a non- insulting answer in his mind.

“I think what Oz is trying to say,” Reim started out gently, then finished harshly, “Is that it’s high time you realized you can be a jerk, Xerxes!”

“Well, I wouldn’t say jerk’…” Oz began.

“I would,” Gil mumbled.

“My…I cant believe that you all….” Break began softly, then Emily jeered,

“Just figured that out now!”

The anger was evident on all of their faces.

“Really, why are you all ganging up on me,” Break grinned, without a hint of hurt in his voice, “when you should be focusing on the task at hand?”

“Because it’s your fault we’re in this mess!” Gilbert shouted, then ran his hand frustratedly through his hair, observing the mess they had made of the room, before demanding, “Is it in this room?!”

“Given up already, have you?” Emily teased.

Gilbert clenched his hands into fists, biting back a retort.

“Did anyone see him leave the room?!”

Everyone looked at Gilbert blankly, or up at the ceiling, trying to think if they had, realizing they had no idea, and knew full well Sharon could have used Eques to transport him when their backs were turned anyways. Gilbert put his hands on his hips, sighing at their silence “Alright. We have a whole manor to look through, it’s best we move on from this room,” he paused, turning again to Break, with malice in his eyes, “Right?”

“Sure, kiddo!” Emily replied, and he gave the fakest grin yet.

Gilbert gritted his teeth, then shook his head, directing them,

“Let’s split up; Ada, you go down the left hall, Stupid Rabbit, you take the right. I’ll go downstairs.”

“I won’t let you down, Seaweed-Head!” Alice sped down the hall, not even searching, as if she had forgotten the task she’d been given.

Ada nodded, “Come on, Snowdrop, Kitty!” she called to her cats.

Oz sighed, “Alright, fine. I’ll help too.”

Gilbert smiled, about to thank him, when Oz added,

“But I expect to be rewarded for my troubles!”

His servant rolled his eyes.

“I kinda need to know what it looks like, though, don’t I, Gil? You seemed to want to keep it a secret earlier.”

“You’ll…um….You’ll know it when you see it,” Gilbert looked anywhere but at his master.

Oz sighed, putting his hands on his hips, “Really? That kinda makes things harder, you know.”

“Oh, not up to the challenge, are you Oz-kun?” Break goaded.

“No, no, I can do it! I just feel like we’re not addressing a key part of the puzzle here!”

With that Gilbert pulled him out of the room and into the search.

Gilbert was right; it did seem like a bit of a waste of an afternoon; exhausting wasn’t the only word that came to mind after rifling through each room one by one, with no clue as to where it might be. Especially because the feeling began growing in them that Gilbert was way too attached to things, as well as that Break was, indeed, a jerk. They didn’t know how much time had passed before they met up again in the hall, everyone hanging their heads in shame and disappointment.

“What should we do?” Ada asked quietly.

“We can’t let the clowny bastard win!” Alice slammed a fist into her other palm to emphasize her point.

“That’s right!” Gilbert agreed, “For years I had to put up with his constant teasing, it’s high time we got him back!”

“I don’t think losing the bet is really going to make him stop. I mean, he’s lost before, right?”

“You don’t have to be so blunt about it!” Gilbert complained.

“Sorry,” Oz shrugged.

In the moment of silence that followed, Ada’s cat started rubbing against Oz’s leg, as if trying to comfort him.

“What do you think, Snowdrop?” Oz asked jokingly, picking up his sister’s cat, (Gilbert eyed it, a whine developing in his throat, scooching away), “Do you have any idea where it is?”

Oz gasped.

“What is it, Onii-chan?”

Tied into the cat’s collar was a ribbon, attached to a little ornament. He pulled it free and placed the cat on the floor (it meowed and padded away).

The other three gasped in turn, leaning in to get a better look at it.

“That bastard!” Gilbert slammed his fist into the wall behind him. “He knew I wouldn’t go near your cats!”

“Yeah,” Oz laughed, “leave it to Break to take the cheap shot.”

“What are we waiting for?!” Alice demanded, “Didn’t I just say we can’t let the clowny bastard win!”

“You’re right!” the others said together, and bolted down the hall.

“We found it!” Oz held the ornament high, like a trophy, as they burst through the door.

At the same moment that he held up the evidence, the hour chimed.

They each glanced at each other, then at the clock, which read exactly 18:00.

“My, my, isn’t this an interesting turn of events?” Break remarked, stretching, “It looks like it’s a tie, Ojousama.”

“It would appear,” Sharon smiled “In that case, would you please excuse me for a moment?” she gathered her dress and hurried out of the room.

“So, which one of you found it?” Break asked, walking over to them.

“I did.”

The prankster smirked, “What did I tell you?” he ruffled Oz’s hair, “Oz-kun’s sharp.”

“So… what does that mean about your wagers?” Oz tried to put his hair right. “Since you tied?”

“Just a moment Oz-kun,” he put his hand on Oz’s head, his sleeve falling over his eyes, and looked over their heads

Sharon quickly did return, a little out of breath, holding a small package wrapped in a ribbon.

“Here you are, Break!” she held it out for him.

He took it from her and unwrapped it, opening the little red box to reveal that it was filled with the the candy she had promised.

“Just the thing I needed” he patted her head, unwrapping a piece and tossing it into his mouth. “Better luck next time, Ojousama,”

Oz and Alice stared at him, open-mouthed, dumbstruck that he had beat them.

“Now I suppose I should get started on that dessert of yours,” he waited until the proper moment to add.

“Please do.”

“Huh?” Oz and Alice asked simultaneously.

“Since we tied,” Sharon spoke, as they both turned to them, “we both win.”

“So…does that mean the clown still has to swear off candy?” Alice asked hopefully.

“No—Unfortunately,” Sharon added, glancing at her servant, who rolled his eyes, eating another piece, “We both get the rewards of the wager, but no one gets the punishment.”

“More in the Christmas spirit, wouldn’t you agree, Ojousama?” he said between candy crunches.

“Since when do you care about ‘Christmas spirit’?!” Gilbert demanded.

“Better luck next year, I guess,” Oz tried to put a positive spin on it.

“Next year?!” Alice fumed, “I want to settle this now!” (Gilbert held Alice by the neck of her jacket.)

“Believe me,” Reim grunted, eyeing Break, “it’ll only end worse for you,”

“Who knows?” Break shrugged, “There may not be a next year, Oz-kun.”

Alice continued to seethe while the others glanced at each other, unsure of how to respond to such a statement.

“There you go again,” Reim scolded. “You can’t just mention something like that!”

Break dismissed him with a wave of his hand, chuckling to himself, and muttering something about his uptightness, as he made his way down the hall to the kitchens.

After Break left, Oz looked down at his hand, opening his fingers to reveal the little clay, painted oddity he was still holding. Alice came behind him and looked over his shoulder at it.

“What…is it?”

“You didn’t know what you were looking for?!” Gilbert questioned.

“Because you never told me, Seaweed-head!”

Gilbert looked away, clearly wanting to bite back, but without argument with which to do so.

Oz shook his head, staring at it. It was rather crudely made, ineptly painted. But he couldn’t mistake it for anything else—and Gil had been right, he did know it when he saw it.

Because he was the one who made it.

“I can’t believe you kept this, Gil.”

Gilbert looked away, nodding and turning red.

Now he understood why Gilbert was so intent on getting it back. This ornament had probably become a symbol to Gilbert—much like Shelly’s stocking on the mantelpiece was for Break and Sharon—for Oz himself. This ornament, through the years, had probably become tied to his faithful valet’s unending hope that his master would come back. Each year Break took it, as if teasing that perhaps he wouldn’t (and, maybe this was his roundabout way of him trying to prepare him for that), but Gilbert always got it back, as if displaying that he would never lose that hope.

“Oy! What is it?!” Alice demanded again, upset her ‘manservant’ wasn’t focusing all his attention on her.

“It’s a bird, Alice,” Oz answered simply.

“Really, how do you figure?”

“Yeah, it doesn’t look very good does it?” Oz laughed.

“Seaweed-head, why would a crappy ornament like this be your favorite?”

“Oy! You don’t see me criticizing your bad taste!”

“Bad taste?! I have impeccable taste! I eat meat every day!”

“That’s not what—”

“Its because I made it for him,” Oz answered her question quietly.

“You?” Alice laughed, slapping him on the back, “You have pretty poor skills, Oz.”

“Give me a break! I was a kid!”

Oscar laughed, walking up to them, “You’re still a kid, Oz. Yes…I can’t remember how old he was, but he made me, Ada, and Gilbert ornaments,” he laughed a little, putting his arm around Gilbert, “I remember how offended Gil was at his master making him a gift.”

“Yeah,” Oz laughed, they all looked up at Gil, who got steadily redder the more they spoke, “We had to force him to accept it.”

“Why are you surprised he kept his, Onii-chan?” Ada asked, “Uncle and I kept ours. They’re back at the Vessalius manor. But! we could bring them over here if you want!”

“That’s okay, I believe you! Still… Like Alice said, they don’t look very good.”

“But, like you said, you were the one who made them for us,” Oscar ruffled his nephew’s hair.

“What were the ornaments you made for them, Oz?” Alice asked.

“Well, I made Ada a little cat, and uncle Oscar a camera. I didn’t really know what Gil liked, so I just made him a bird. Funny, how your chain is Raven now.”

“How come you haven’t made me one, Manservant?!” Alice hit Oz on the head.

“Hey! I’ve been busy!” he rubbed the spot where she hit him.

“In any case,” Alice turned to Gilbert, jumping quickly to the next subject, “now you can make my meat, Seaweed-head!”

“Break’s using the kitchen, Stupid Rabbit!”

“Then let’s go to the market! I’m starving!”

Gilbert sighed into his hand, “Fine. Let me get my hat and coat.”

“Can I come with you guys?” Ada asked—Alice looked peeved, but Gil and Oz had already welcomed her.

“I’ll go check if Break needs anything!” Oz ran off towards the kitchen.

As Oz arrived, he saw that Break had changed out of his white coat and purple shirt into more casual closing—likely so he wouldn’t ruin his normal outfit. He had rolled up the sleeves, and was wearing a pink apron Gil sometimes wore when he cooked for them here, but which probably belonged to Sharon’s grandmother, or mother. He had already begun to make a mess of things; flour was all over the counter, chocolate was on the walls, somehow there were even ingredients in in his hair.

“You need some help?” Oz asked, half-jokingly.

Break looked up.

“Oz-kun,” he noted, then grinned, “You? Help me? Gotten bored of Gilbert-kun, and Alice-kun already?”

“Nah. I just wanted to know if you needed anything. We’re going to the store.”

Oz knew that Break could have asked for help from the staff, or Gilbert, but Sharon called him ‘Mr. One-Man-Show’ for a reason; sure, it might not taste or look all that good, but at least he would have made it himself.

“You really think I wouldn’t have come prepared?”

“But, if you won, you wouldn’t have to make—”

Oz gasped. Realizing something:

They both had bought the supplies ahead of time. Oz thought one of them would have to go to the store, depending on who won the bet, (perhaps dragging the other begrudgingly along), but they both had already bought the necessary ingredients. Which meant, either the food one of them bought would go to waste, or be used in some other way, or, regardless of who won or lost, they still intended to give each other the gifts.

“You already had the ingredients,” Oz thought out loud. “and Sharon-chan already had your candy...”

“So?”

“I would have thought one of you would have to go to the store, depending on who won.”

“What’s your point, Oz-kun?” Break pushed his hair back.

Oz shook his head, grinning like he now had some secret information. “Break, you really are a nice guy, aren’t you?”

Break put his hand on the table, turning to him, “Wipe that cheeky grin off your face before I do it for you.”

Oz put his hands behind his back, sauntering closer.

“Oh, nothing,” he whistled, “Just that, well, you do this every year, don’t you? Sharon likes to give you a taste of your own medicine if you lose, but you both use this an excuse to give each other extra gifts, don’t you? I bet it was your idea in the first place.”

“How do you know we weren’t planning to use the supplies in some other way?”

“Because you’re not considerate enough to let others use your stuff,” he grinned, “Didn’t you just say there would be punishment in store if I got your candy?”

“Well,” he smirked at Oz’s discovery, twirling the spoon in his hand, “‘nice’ would be stretching it. But maybe occasionally I’m not a complete ‘jerk.’”

Oz grinned. That was all the confirmation he needed.

As if he were brandishing a sword, Break flicked chocolate on Oz’s face with the spoon, “Now get out of here.”

Oz rolled his eyes.

“Good luck, Break!”

With that he exited the room, and ran to the front door to catch up with Gil, Ada, and Alice, who were gathered there, waiting for him.

“Break doesn’t need anything!” he called to them, “Let’s go!”

At first it may have seemed like a waste of time, but, in the end, Oz realized; an afternoon playing a game, learning that after ten years Gil had still cherished the small gift he had once been reluctant to accept, seeing how Sharon and Break found ways to bring each other joy, spending time with his friends, spending time with his real family, would never be a waste of an afternoon for him.