#but when I do the morning shift we’re done by 2-2:30 almost every time -_-

[meme-meupthotty]

People who play music in an open office should be shot

[specialagentsergio]

baby kiss it better

summary: When D.C. implements a lockdown order, you and Spencer decide to quarantine together. There’s just one problem—he’s working from home, and his coworkers don’t know about you.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: a few swear words, but otherwise it’s just fluff

a/n: ahh, the secret partner trope. how i love it. this is set in 2020, but with the season 5 cast! i was feeling particularly self-indulgent, so i made reader a night shift worker. this is for you, fellow night owls. stay safe out there everyone, and wear a mask!

a/n 2: i don’t actually know what a doctor or physical therapist would recommend for spencer’s knee injury. this is just going on my basic understanding of anatomy (i took a class in it this fall!) and what i've seen on grey’s anatomy lol.

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

Spencer tries not to grimace as he shifts in his chair. Working from home during the lockdown had initially seemed like it came at a great time, starting just a month after his knee injury. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about having to do almost everything digitally, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being mobile.

Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a downside. Tethered to his seat by headphones, he hasn’t been able to get up and stretch his leg properly, and as a result, is experiencing more pain.

It’s only 8:30, but he can already feel it flaring up. It’s been happening earlier every day, likely due to the existing irritation from the day before. Today is Thursday, and he’s miserable—he dreads to think of what tomorrow will be like.

He’s wondering if there’s some way he could get out of work tomorrow when he hears the sound of the front door being unlocked. He looks up to see you pushing the door open with your shoulder, carrying far too many grocery bags than is reasonable.

“Be careful!” he exclaims, watching as you teeter to the side a little. You just wave him off and close the door with your heel.

Working from home may not have been the positive he was expecting it to be, but you’ve more than made up for it. The two of you had decided to quarantine together, and he’s really loved having you around. Granted, you’ve only been here since Sunday, but he’s starting to think that this is going to end with him asking you to move in with him for good.

He hears a thunk as you dump all the groceries on the kitchen table. Then you’re back in the living room, taking off your mask as you walk by so you can blow him a kiss. He presses his knuckles to his mouth to hide his smile.

Usually you give him a proper cheek or forehead kiss when you get home, but the team doesn’t know about you yet. It’s not that he’s necessarily keeping you a secret, he just... likes having you to himself, and he doesn’t really want it to change just yet.

He’s also not looking forward to the pitch Garcia’s voice is going to hit when she finds out he’s been dating someone for over a year without telling her.

“Are you listening, Reid?” Hotch’s voice makes Spencer focus back in on the screen.

“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking that this choice of rope to bind the victims is interesting.” He doles out a few facts about it, which seems to do an adequate job of convincing everyone that he’s paying attention.

They take a break when the main briefing is over—Jack needs something from Hotch and Sergio has apparently knocked something breakable off of Emily’s kitchen counter. He slides his headphones off and mutes his mic. Apparently that’s a cue you’ve been waiting for, because only a few moments later you’re placing a mug of tea on his desk.

“Green tea,” you say. “Might help reduce the inflammation in your knee.” Then you’re lifting his foot off the small stool it’s resting on and sliding another pillow under it so his leg is more elevated.

“Wh—“ he starts, but you’re already hurrying back into the kitchen. You come back with a baggie of ice wrapped in a dishtowel in your hands, which you place it gently on top of his knee.

“Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off,” you say. “Then repeat with heat instead, like your physical therapist said. I’ll get the heating pad from the bedroom.”

“Hey, wait.” Spencer snags your wrists before you can walk away again. “How’d you know it was hurting?”

“Oh, I always know,” you reply. “You should have realized that by now.”

He thinks on that as you leave to get the heating pad, sipping his tea. You do always seem to just know, whether he’s in physical pain, a bad case is bothering him, or even if he’s just in a bad mood and doesn’t know why himself.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t feel incredibly lucky to have you in his life.

“I’m leaving it by this outlet behind you. Have you been doing your stretches?”

He bites his lip, hesitating because he knows you won’t like the answer. But he doesn’t have to say it; you can tell from his expression.

“Spencer. You know you need to be doing them.”

“I know, I do,” he insists. “I just... can’t really get up and do them with these headphones.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay, so take them off. Your laptop has speakers.”

“But I don’t want to disturb you,” he protests. Since you work the night shift, you sleep during the day, usually heading to bed around 11 AM. He doesn’t want the noise from the Zoom calls to keep you up. Much like the bullpen in the FBI building, the calls can get rowdy.

“You won’t,” you assure. “I’ll just shut the bedroom door.”

“I guess that works,” he relents. “But I feel weird getting up and stretching in front of everyone. Like, wouldn’t that be disruptive?”

You sigh. “Spencer, I understand it’ll make you self-conscious, but you want full mobility in your knee again, right?”

“Yeah, I do, I get it,” he says sullenly, looking down into his mug. “I need to do the stretches if I want it to heal well.”

“Hey.” You take one of his hands and squeeze it. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I just want you to get better and be in less pain. I don’t like to see you hurting.”

“You’re not annoying me. I guess I’m just... not really used to being taken care of,” he admits quietly.

“Well, I’m gonna fix that.”

The confidence in your voice makes him unable to hold back a smile. “Alright.”

You smile back. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Spencer’s about to tell you that you’ve done plenty when an idea strikes him. He tilts his head to the side. “Well, there is something.”

“Yes?”

“There’s some research—nothing too substantial, but still some—that says kisses can help relieve pain,” he says.

You laugh, but it’s not unkind. “Oh, so you want me to kiss it better?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, glancing away shyly.

“Okay, then.” You tuck his hair behind his ear and press a kiss to his forehead. “Better?” you ask softly.

He hums. “Better.”

“Good.” You stand back up and stretch. “Well, I’ll be awake for a few more hours, so let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Spencer puts his headphones back on—he wants to wait to unplug them until you go to bed to spare you from hearing anything gruesome—and looks back at the screen to find Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Garcia staring him down. Rather hesitantly, he unmutes his mic and asks, “What?”

Emily is grinning—she looks the more awake than she has all morning. “Is there anything you wanna tell us?” she asks.

“Yeah, Spence,” JJ chimes in, “any new developments in your life?”

“I don’t—” he starts, then it hits him like a truck. He remembered to mute his mic, but the camera was still on. Clearly, they all saw you kiss his forehead. He barely stops himself from hitting his head against the table; he covers his face with his hands instead and groans.

“Isn’t the whole point of all this that we stay away from other people?” Morgan asks, and Spencer doesn’t have to look up to know that Derek has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“People outside of your household,” he corrects without thinking.

“Oh my god!” Garcia shrieks and he winces, pulling the headphones off out of instinct. He’s not the only one—JJ jumps and yanks her earbuds out, and Derek lifts one side of his headphones away from his ear. Spencer hesitantly copies him, putting one half of his headphones back on.

“Jesus, Pen, you scared the shit out of Sergio,” Emily’s saying.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she says, then turns her attention completely to Spencer. “Boy wonder. You’re living with someone and I’m just now hearing about it?”

“I mean, you never asked,” he points out.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d have to!” she huffs. “You usually tell your friends if you’re seeing someone new, let alone living with them!”

“You do, maybe. Emily and I don’t,” he says.

Emily herself shrugs. “Good point. Fair enough, Reid.”

“Besides, we’re not living together,” he continues, “We’re quarantining together.”

“Right, because that’s such a big difference,” JJ teases. He glares at her in return.

Rossi returns to his desk before Penelope can start bombarding Spencer with questions. But there’s no reprieve for him—the man takes one look around and knows something’s up. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks.

“We just found out pretty boy has a partner,” Morgan sing-songs before Spencer can say anything.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“And he didn’t tell any of us!” Garcia adds.

Spencer groans again and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything,” he mutters.

A knocking sound draws his attention away from the call. You’re standing in the bedroom doorway, your hand resting on the doorframe. “You okay?” you ask. “I just heard you groan.”

Spencer mutes his mic again and then leans over so he’s out of the camera’s frame. “They found out,” he sighs.

“Found out what?”

“Found out about... you.”

Realization crosses your face. “They saw me kissing you better?”

“Yeah. I forgot the camera was still on,” he says sheepishly.

“Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” You make your way over to him and take the ice off his knee. “It’s been twenty minutes, by the way.”

“Thanks. So, um...” He picks up the fidget toy you bought him when he was going stir-crazy in the hospital and starts messing with it. “What do you wanna do about this?”

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” you reply immediately.

“Okay, good answer,” he says. “But I actually want to know how you feel about this.”

“Well, I’m fine with meeting them, even if it’s just over Zoom. But if you’d rather wait, I’m fine with that, too. Really,” you add when he raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well.” Spencer looks back at the screen. Hotch has returned now, and even though he can’t hear anything, it’s clear they’re all waiting on him. Best to just do this now, he thinks, otherwise I’ll be hearing about it all day. “How would you feel about meeting them right now?”

You blink. “Um, okay. So long as you don’t mind me looking like I was up all night, because, you know... I was.”

“You look fine,” he reassures. “Uh, just stay put for a second. Let me ask if this is okay.”

He readjusts to sit in his chair properly. He starts to put his headphones back on, but you unplug them so you can hear what’s happening.

“You ready to continue, Reid?” Hotch asks. It’s business as usual with him—if he was told what happened earlier, Spencer can’t tell.

“Well, actually,” he starts, and nervousness bubbles up in his chest. He glances up and you give him a reassuring smile. “Actually, I was wondering if I could introduce you guys to someone first?”

Garcia squeals. “Ooh, sir, please say yes!”

“Just keep it quick,” Hotch says. He didn’t even hesitate—they totally told him.

Spencer takes a deep breath, then gestures for you to come over. You seem a little nervous as well, but you handle it well, walking around the desk and into the frame. “Oh, we should have gotten you something to sit on,” he laments when you lean over the back of his chair.

“It’s fine.” You drape your arms around his shoulders and adjust so your head is on the same level as his. It’s silent for a moment, then you say, “Well, introduce me, silly.”

“Oh!” He clears his throat, trying to ignore the heat he feels in his cheeks. “Um, this is (Y/N). My... my partner.”

The call explodes with greetings, everyone talking over each other. “Slow down, slow down,” Spencer pleads. This is all overwhelming enough—he doesn’t need any excess stimuli.

Once it settles, everyone takes their turn introducing themselves (you already know who they all are, though, as he’s told you so much about them). Then you field a few questions—what you do for work, how you met, what your favorite food is (that was Rossi—Spencer suspects that he wants to know for the first dinner party he can hold after quarantine is over).

It’s going well. Everyone seems to like you, and you’re getting by just fine. Until Garcia asks her question, that is.

“So, (Y/N), how long has boy wonder been keeping you a secret from us?”

Both of you tense. “Uh, you know what, I’ll let him answer that,” you say quickly. “It’s just about time for me to go to bed.”

“Wha—no. No, it’s not. It’s just barley past nine,” Spencer protests.

“Yeah, I’m really tired. I’m gonna try and get some extra sleep today.” You give a little wave. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers desperately. “Not with that question.”

You feign a yawn. “Sorry, I’m just too tired.”

He watches you go back to the bedroom with a pout.

“Well?” Garcia insists when he looks back at her.

Spencer cringes and preemptively lowers his computer volume.

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

tell me what you thought here!

[buckleyblueyes]

buddie + 28

28. Neck Kisses. Thank you so much! I'm really proud of how this turned out. Buck stress bakes and Eddie worries. (send me a kiss prompt) (send me a dialogue prompt)

It’s been almost three years since the tsunami, and for the most part, Buck has moved on. He can swim again, enjoys going to the beach (especially with Chris and Eddie), and he’s even gone to the renovated Santa Monica Pier a few times. But he’s had enough therapy to know that trauma never really goes away, not permanently anyway. So, he’s not surprised that when the anniversary approaches, the nightmares begin returning, and he tries not to let it wear on him. He talks to Dr. Copeland about it, of course, he’s not ignoring it. He just doesn’t want to make a big deal of it, doesn’t want anyone to worry about him, so he stops sleeping at the station, afraid of waking up screaming where everyone can hear.

Eddie knows, of course, because it’s impossible to hide nightmares from someone you share a bed with--and, God, isn’t that something? They’ve only been together a few months, but Buck is already halfway moved in and maybe they’re moving a little fast, but it’s only because it took them so long to get here. He loves that when he wakes up with his heart hammering in his chest, drenched in sweat, Eddie is there to hold him, to soothe him. Buck also loves that Christopher is just down the hall, that he can poke his head in and listen to his small snuffles and reassure himself that he’s there, he’s alive, he’s safe, before shuffling back to Eddie’s bed.

But as much as he wants to seek out Eddie’s comfort, as much as he relishes the feeling of being held tight and safe in his boyfriend’s arms, there’s a bigger part of him, the part of him that doesn’t let him fall asleep at the station, that is ashamed. He hates the thought of being a burden on Eddie, of keeping him from the sleep he needs, of worrying him over some silly dreams. On the nights those thoughts win, he doesn’t shuffle back to the bedroom after checking on Christopher. He heads to the kitchen instead, and bakes. He’s quiet, moving slowly so as not to cause a clatter, and stirring everything by hand instead of using a beater.

Baking has always been a source of stress relief for Buck. Ever since he was a teenager, and he tried his mother’s banana bread recipe for the first time. He likes using his hands to make something tangible that he can be proud of. The motions of measuring and stirring and whisking and pouring bring him out of his head and into his body, it makes him more aware. And at the end of it he has something delicious he can share with others in return for their affection and compliments. He can watch them smile as they bite into a cookie, soak up praise as they savor it. Even his parents had complimented his baking.

So, for the past couple of weeks, as the anniversary approached and the nightmares got worse and worse, Buck has been waking up in the middle of the night and baking. Blueberry muffins, cookies (snickerdoodles, peanut butter, and oatmeal raisin), banana bread, shortcake and cream for the last strawberries of the season...the list goes on. He brings the treats into the station, and preens as every last one disappears. He lights up when Hen claps him on the back and compliments his muffins or when Chimney double fists peanut butter cookies like a madman or when Eddie moans around a bite of a snickerdoodle and presses a kiss to his cheek in thanks.

(He’s sure Eddie knows it’s a coping mechanism, but he’s glad that Eddie hasn’t called him on it yet. He’s not ready for that conversation.)

Tonight, it’s two days from the anniversary of the tsunami. They have a shift in the morning, so when Buck jolts awake at 2 AM with Christopher’s name on his lips, he can’t bring himself to wake Eddie. He slides out of bed as quietly as he can, tiptoeing down the hall, first to Chris’s room, where he pauses for a moment, taking in the steady rise and fall of his chest, and then to the kitchen. He turns on only as many lights as he needs, leaving the kitchen somewhat dim.

He flips through one of his cookbooks, the one he stole from his mother when he moved out, looking for something to bake, eventually settling on a cake he faintly remembers from his childhood. Lazy Daisy Lemon Cake. It’s a summer cake, sweet and light and tangy from lemon zest, drizzled with a thin glaze. He preheats the oven and gets to work. It’s a simple recipe, but one with a fair amount of prep work involved. He grates and juices the lemons first, making sure he has enough for the recipe, then he sifts the dry ingredients (flour and baking powder) together. He finds his rhythm, and soon enough he’s lost in his movements, and the sensations of his nightmare (the water everywhere, salt burning his eyes, Christopher dragged away from him, under the waves, gone…) fade away.

He’s just put the cake in the oven and is starting on the glaze when hears footsteps behind him. Eddie wraps his arms around Buck’s waist, and rests his head on Buck’s shoulder. His voice is rough with sleep when he whispers in Buck’s ear. “What are you doing?”

“Baking,” Buck whispers back.

Eddie frowns. “Another nightmare?”

Buck nods. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“None of that,” Eddie shakes his head, still against Buck’s shoulder. “I would much rather you wake me up then try to deal with this on your own, okay? We’re in this together.”

Buck knows that, he does. But sometimes he doesn’t believe it. “I love you,” is all he can say in response.

Eddie presses a kiss to the base of his neck in response, then follows it with another and another, slowly making his way up Buck’s neck until he reaches his jaw. “I love you too.”

Buck hums softly, and turns around to wrap his arms around Eddie and kiss him on the lips, glaze all but forgotten.

“What are you baking?” Eddie asks, when they pull apart.

“Lemon cake.”

“How long until it comes out of the oven?”

“About half an hour.”

“Okay.” Eddie yawns. “Once it’s done, you’re coming back to bed.”

“I--” Because Buck is used to just staying up all the way until morning when he gets like this. Because it’s 3 AM now, and the cake won’t be done until nearly 4 AM, and they have to be up at 6:30 to get Christopher ready for school, and those two hours hardly seem worth it when he can have coffee and breakfast ready early instead. Besides, he doesn’t want to wake Eddie again.

Eddie, of course, seems to read his mind. He takes Buck’s hands in his and squeezes, grounding him. “You need all the sleep you can get, if you’re not going to sleep on shift. Sleep deprivation is a bad time for anyone, but especially a first responder, you know that.”

Buck sighs. “I know.”

“You don’t need to be worrying about me,” Eddie continues. “Let me worry about you, let me take care of you.”

Buck’s exhausted mind wants to throw a tantrum. He shouldn’t have to do that. He deserves someone less broken. You’re such a--

“You’re not a burden, Evan.” Eddie’s words cut right through every thought that’s racing through his mind. “You never have been, and you never will be. Not to me, and not to the rest of our family.”

Buck doesn’t bother holding back his tears. “Okay. I’ll come back to bed when this is done.”

“You better.” Eddie smiles, and his voice is lighter now, teasing. “It’s cold in there without my personal radiator.”

[tealquacks]

They Share a Kitchen 3: Grocery Gathering

Originally posted here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317644/chapters/58625389

@alexalexisalexej

I’m sorry this took so long, but I hope y’all enjoy!

It had been a little over a week since Remus made the croissants, and the daily routines still hadn’t quite recovered. At breakfast, Virgil showed up ten minutes later than usual, and stood nervously in the doorway, checking to make sure nobody unexpected would be in the kitchen. Roman never came to visit the kitchen, but Patton brought him meals three times a day— 9:30 am, 1:20 pm, and 5:50 pm. Virgil would occasionally join him. 

Patton and Janus still met for tea every single day, but they never stayed in the kitchen anymore. Patton would ask Janus to take walks with him. They’d stroll through Roman’s side of the imagination, then drink their tea and talk. The only reason Logan knew this was because Patton brought it up at dinner one night. Virgil left shortly after. 

The only people who remained unaffected were Remus and him. They kept to their usual schedules. Except now Logan found himself staying up late to talk to Remus while he cooked. He had yet to make paella— something about wanting to save it for a special occasion.

Every day felt like a special occasion. Logan couldn’t help but stare at the charts he had made, one pre-Remus, and one post-Remus. Color coded and organized. Pristine.

“It’s surprising,” Logan had said at breakfast that morning, eating some waffles Patton had made, “that Remus spending one day in the kitchen threw all of our schedules into chaos.”

Virgil glared at him silently. Patton stared down blankly at his waffles.

“I don’t like him,” Patton murmured.

“You seem to get along with Deceit just fine,” Virgil spat, lip twitching in silent anger. Patton sighed.

“His name is Janus, Virgil. Be polite.”

“Why should I care?”

“Because it’s rude to call him Deceit— Logan, how would you feel if we only called you Logic?”

Logan sat straight. If he said he didn’t care, that would be mostly honest. If he said he did care, that would make it seem he had some sort of emotional attachment to his name. He swallowed.

“I don’t care either way. However, Janus now seems to prefer we address him by his real name. Besides, deceit is not his only function.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, staring angrily down at his plate of waffles. That was the end of the conversation at the breakfast table. Logan ate in silence, slowly sipping water out of a glass with a lemon on the rim. 

Now, he sat at his desk. The clock said it was 2:28 pm. The kitchen would be perfectly empty, since Virgil and Patton no longer had their little talks in the kitchen. Logan didn’t know where they went, and he didn’t care to ask. Of course he worried about them, but he didn’t think where they talked mattered so much. He set down his pen, thinking of when Roman had run from the kitchen in horror, Remus doing nothing but sitting at the table.

Suddenly, someone knocked at his door. Logan stood from his comfortable office chair, and walked to the door. He adjusted his tie and smoothed his hair down before calmly opening it. That calm facade almost broke when he saw Remus on the other side, wearing a painfully bright yellow bucket hat, a fishnet shirt, and a green pair of cargo shorts. He had a bag slung over his shoulder.

“Hello, Remus.”

“You remember how you said I should make paella? Well I thought real long and hard and I thought that you could not only help me with the cooking but you could also help me with gathering the shit that goes in it! Like clams and mussels. One recipe says squid but I’ve honestly never cooked with squid and I’m not interested in fucking with that.”

Logan blinked, slowly trying to take in the information, and the sight of Remus before him. Remus never came to his room. Nobody did. It seemed like there had been an unspoken rule made, that he was never to be interrupted. Now the matter at hand.

“You want me to accompany you in collecting the ingredients?”

Remus nodded violently, causing the bright hat to flop off his head. He picked it up, and put it back on. Logan blinked.

“I’ll take that as a yes. And this involves going under the water?”

“No shit Sherlock! That’s where the mussels are! Unless you count these guns—“ Remus flexed his arms, a stunning smile on his face. Logan looked at the bag he carried, then to the yellow hat on his head.

“I think it would be best if you changed into something more… sensible.”

Remus wagged his brows, leaning up against the doorway.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m wearing a speedo under these shorts.”

“I meant the hat. It will make you very, very visible.”

“It’s okay,” Remus rebutted, “I think fish are colorblind. Maybe. Do you know?”

Logan gnawed on the inside of his lip. He didn’t know. He couldn’t say so, that would be seen as weakness. But Remus was… different, somehow, uncaring about strength and weakness. He took a slow, deep breath.

“I honestly don’t know,” Logan responded, “most fish only see two colors, but I’m unsure how many can see yellow. However, if your plans are to go underwater, it would be wise to forgo the hat.”

Remus shrugged, took off his hat, and tossed it into Logan’s room. It landed on the neat sheets of his bed.

“We won’t be in the water the whole time,” Remus said, “we still have to get other things? Like, erm, I don’t have the recipe on me but we’re almost out of apples, and honey— honey will be a bitch to get but you know what I have?”

Logan furrowed his brows, staring at the bag.

“A beekeeping suit, a smoker, and an apiary of some sort?”

“Nope! Just my morning star and overwhelming hubris!”

Logan didn't know what he’d expected. Of course Remus wouldn’t go about getting honey in any sort of logical way. 

“There are other things we will need.”

“You have a special request?”

Logan shook his head.

“I don’t. But paella requires saffron,” Logan explained. “Saffron is derived from the stigma of Crocus sativus.”

“Huh? What’s uh….” Remus trailed off, snapping his fingers a few times. “What’s the common name of that?”

“They are also known as autumn crocus, or saffron crocus. Do you know where these flowers grow?”

Remus raised his eyebrows, tapping his fingers to one another— thumb to index, thumb to middle, thumb to ring, thumb to pinkie. 

“Lemme think… I have a spice garden in my side, but I didn’t know that saffron came from a fucking flower! But I do have a bit of land I could… flowers. Goddamn! Saffron from flowers! That’s pretty cool! I have to ask— how did people think of putting it on shit?”

Logan suppressed a smile as Remus flapped one of his hands a little. It felt nice, being asked harmless questions, not being interrupted. Even then, he couldn’t help but wait for the other shoe to drop, for Remus to tell him to shut up. He took a deep breath.

“It is commonly believed that saffron originated in Greece, however most of it is grown in Iran, I believe.” He paused, giving Remus ample time to say something. Instead, Remus waved his hand at him.

“Well? Go on.” 

Logan shifted from foot to foot.

“Saffron is incredibly expensive due to the fact that one flower only produces three strands when it blooms, and the flowers only bloom for one week each year. Saffron has been used and cultivated by humans for more than three thousand and five hundred years, and has been used not only as a seasoning, but also as a dye, fragrance, and medicine.”

Remus grinned, eyebrows raised. 

“Cocaine used to be used as a medicine! Freud diagnosed it to some of his patients for depression, I think! Did you know that cocaine, like meth, can cause people to hallucinate vermin crawling under their skin? And they’ll scratch at their skins to get them out!”

“Ah, yes, delusional parasitosis, also called formication.”

“Fornication?”

Logan shook his head.

“I doubt formication and fornication could be mistaken for one another, unless ones idea of fornication is subdermal penetration.”

“Oh, talk dirty to me!” Remus cried, rolling his shoulders. Logan couldn’t stop his lips from twitching up into a small smile, but turned his expression back to a straight face as quickly as he could. 

“So what are you looking to retrieve?” Logan asked. Remus reached into one of the many pockets of his cargo shorts, and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He dramatically unfolded it.

“Apples, honey, saffron, I guess, and mussels and clams and whatever else we may find. So is that a yes?”

Logan paused for a moment. He’d been to Roman’s side of the imagination, and the land was bright and beautiful, filled with fantastical creatures and lush landscapes. However, Remus was the opposite of Roman, or at least the bits of creativity that Thomas considered unpleasant enough to purge from his consciousness. So what did that include? The horrifying, the macabre, and the explicit. Dicks, drugs, and the disturbing. None of it could hurt him. And judging by the fact Remus sought him out to come with him, he wouldn’t even be threatened. As long as he was cautious, he would remain unharmed during their journey. That was reasonable enough to assume.

 But what about the others? He would be expected back at dinner, which was at five pm. That would only give him two and a half hours with Remus, and time seemed to go much faster while around him, probably something to do with how Remus’ nature distorted reality around him, that reality including the way one would perceive time passing. Logan looked into his room. If he left the door closed, the others wouldn’t bother him. Patton would leave dinner outside of his door, he’d done it before, many times, but he wouldn’t come in. So he could miss dinner. If they asked questions, he could say he was busy. And they’d believe him.

Logan stared at the yellow bucket hat, garish and blinding on top of his sheets. He swallowed.

“Yes, I will accompany you.”

Remus flapped his hands expressively, smiling like a million and a half suns. He hopped from foot to foot, then did a little spin. 

“Fuck yeah! I’ll let you get changed, meet me in the kitchen as soon as possible! It’ll be so much fun!”

Just as Logan opened his mouth to tell Remus he would be wearing his usual clothing, Remus sprinted away. He let out a deep sigh. He wore his usual outfit— black dress pants, a black polo, indigo tie, dress shoes. Comfortable and professional. If he were to open his closet, there would be exact clones of the exact same outfit. Of course there was always the clothing he wore on Halloween, but a bulky, velveteen coat would be even less practical. The Sherlock costume would be out of the question, and he’d long since gotten rid of his onesie. 

So that left him in his typical outfit. However, the tie around his throat could possibly get caught and damaged. Logan touched his striped indigo tie, and slowly loosened it. Halfway through doing so, he realized he would look like an absolute fool without his tie. Even to Remus. Logan pulled the tie tight, so tight it almost choked him, and walked out of his room, slowly shutting the door behind him.

Logan silently crept through the hallway then down the stairs, making sure to skip the one squeaky step. If Virgil caught him with Remus, willingly spending time with him… well, he didn’t know how he would react. Virgil hated him, saw him as a nuisance, and there certainly was some history between the two of them. He had no clue what, despite the fact Virgil had once been a ‘dark’ side. 

He stepped into the kitchen. Remus sat on the table, kicking his legs back and forth. Somehow, even wearing those ridiculous clothes, he looked like he belonged in the kitchen. Logan pushed his glasses up. Remus smiled at him, hopping off of the table and grabbing his arm in a tight grip. His hands felt burning hot.

“Are you ready to go?”

Was he? If the others—

“—Yes, I am.”

Remus tugged on his arm, and they both sunk down into the white tile of the kitchen floor.

A gust of warm, sweet air hit him in the face. Logan gasped at the sensation, staggering backwards. He tripped on a stone, and landed on his ass in tall grass. All around them grew wildflowers and grass, and the clouds gently danced in the sky. The flowers swayed in the wind, blossoms of all hues growing around them. Truly, a beautiful landscape. Strange.

“Is this your side of the imagination?” Logan asked, ignoring Remus’ offered hand in favor of standing up by himself. 

“Yup! Wild and uncivilized. I had an idea for a monster— it’s an intelligent being that’s made of fungi that connects to the roots of plants, like how a brain makes neuron paths! Earth brain! We’re currently standing upon the brain of the smartest being in the imagination! Well, except for you, now that you’re here.”

Logan nervously looked down at his feet, face flushed. He really didn’t want to ask what the thing looked like, but his curiosity begged him to. His ego, meanwhile, preened at the small praise.

“Does it have a body?” Logan asked, “does it need to feed?”

“Yes to both questions!” Remus proclaimed, “The body is like. Laying down sort of? It’s like a big, smart pancake! And it eats! Don’t worry, it won’t eat us. Or any other side. Or cows since it’s lactose intolerant. But it won’t eat any sentient beings, like us sides! Except for Roman and his creations of course.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Why only him?”

Remus twirled around, then pointed off into the distance. Logan looked to where he was pointing, and there in the horizon he spotted a massive palace, one he immediately recognized as belonging to Roman.. 

Remus opened his mouth, then suddenly shut it, a manic smile splitting his face. 

“Look, here comes a unicorn! Oh, you’ll love this.”

And just as Remus had said, a white stallion with a gleaming horn pranced into the field of flowers. It wandered forward, then bent down and started to graze. As it opened its mouth to take a bite, the plants suddenly burst to life, wrapping around the unicorn. It fought and kicked as the thick grass dragged it to the ground— no, into the ground, as if the prairie earth had turned into quicksand. The unicorn whinnied and thrashed, until it was pulled fully under the ground, horn disappearing in the thick foliage. 

“It absorbs its prey, like a protist.” Logan said breathlessly. If he could feel, he wouldn’t know if he felt shocked or impressed. 

“Yeah! This land, in like a mile wide stripe, is the border between my land and Roman’s. And I don’t want anything to do with his shit. So anything that comes over here gets chomped up by Bartholomew!”

“Bartholomew?” Logan asked.

Remus crouched, patting the ground. He flopped onto his front, pressing a little kiss to the earth.

“It goes by Bart for short. And don’t worry, we had a conversation and it’s fine with it/its pronouns. Anyways what should we get first?”

Logan stared at the earth, shifting from foot to foot. Thousands of questions were bubbling in his head, but Remus had brought him to gather ingredients, not to ask questions. 

“Apples,” he croaked out. Remus leapt to his feet, looking him in the eye.

“I said it won’t absorb you. It only eats Roman and Roman’s shit. And even if you did get eaten, you’d be able to sink out. You’re safe.”

Logan inhaled slowly, then let out a deep breath. He didn’t care if he was safe. He wanted to ask how Bartholomew dissolved its prey, what acid it used to break down prey, he wanted to ask about the ph of the soil—

“Let’s go get the apples,” Logan insisted.

Remus nodded.

“The orchard is like, ten miles away? I don’t know but I can teleport us. Will it make you puke? Since Jannie told me that when he and Patton were in the imagination they saw Roman and Roman teleported them away from him and then Patton puked his guts up!”

“I don’t puke,” Logan explained, “I’m not human, and I can’t pretend to be.”

“You are a part of a human. Anyways, let’s go!”

Remus grabbed his arm, and the world shifted around them, the ground fell out from under his feet— for an instant, he felt like he was flying and falling all at the same time.

Then the ground appeared again. Logan stumbled. The sun was filtered through the branches of tall trees, taller than any apple tree he’d seen. The ground felt hard, and thorny bushes grew between each massive tree. Strangely enough, even though the air felt warm, the branches had no leaves, as if winter was coming. Logan looked down at his feet. The earth was covered in a layer of frost. He crouched down and touched it, and his fingers brushed coarse weeds and warm frost.

“This is fascinating,” Logan said. He scooped a little bit of frost into his hand. It didn’t melt. 

“How so?”

“Where do I start? The trees— they’re far too tall to be apple trees, yet they still bear fruit. And they have no leaves, which raises the question of how they perform photosynthesis. Not only that but the ground is covered in frost, and the frost is warm. The frost is warm, but it also doesn’t melt in my touch. Truly fascinating.”

Remus flicked his wrist, and a red apple the size of a fist fell into his palm.

“I like the way that frost looks, but I fucking hate the cold! So I made this place! And the branches are high so I can climb them and see out above the entirety of the land! But if you take issue with the height of the trees…”

Remus took a bite of the apple. He stomped his foot. Suddenly, one of the trees shrank, smaller and smaller, until it was the size of an actual apple tree. Ripe, beautiful apples hung off the branches.

“There,” Remus said, “that should be low enough for you to reach.”

“I’m not that much shorter than you,” Logan said, “do you have something to keep the apples in?”

Remus reached into the bag, and pulled out a wicker basket. Logan almost asked how he managed to do that, but realized it would be pointless. This was Remus’ land, it ran by his rules.

“I have a question!” Remus proclaimed.

“Go ahead,” Logan said, silently glad Remus had gone back to asking questions.

“Why are you so touchy about shapeshifting? Like. You never do it. I mean when the cameras aren’t rolling. You look exactly like Thomas and you never change it up!”

Logan froze. He pulled an apple from one of the branches and set it carefully in the basket.

“Patton is emotionally unstable. Virgil is a ticking time bomb. Roman tends to prioritize fantastical ideals over reality. Janus is level headed, but Thomas only just accepted him. And I’m unsure if he’ll ever accept you.”

Remus took another big bite of the apple.

“And what does this have to do with you not shapeshifting?”

Logan sighed.

“Thomas needs someone to be steady. Someone for him to rely on and trust no matter what the situation is. I don’t want to lose his trust.”

Remus giggled. Logan picked another apple.

“He trusts Patton even when he’s a fucking puppet. It’s not about trust, is it?”

Logan set the apple down in his basket.

“How many of these do we need?”

“Fuck if I know, fill the basket. But if it’s not about trust, then what is it about?”

Logan picked an apple, staring at the deep red color. He rubbed it against his polo, and he could see his reflection.

“Thomas hasn’t been listening to me as much as he should. I’m hoping that if I maintain the same appearance as him, he’ll be more inclined to listen to what I have to say.”

Logan stared at the apple. He shouldn’t be here. If the others found out he’d spent so much time with Remus, then what would they think of him? Would they consider him a friend anymore? That plus the fact he was picking apples, something they didn’t even need to do because they could be summoned with the snap of a finger. He didn’t need to eat. Logan set the apple in his basket.

Remus hummed. He flicked his wrist again, and apples began to rain from the sky. They struck the ground hard enough to bruise, and the noise they made was thunderous.

“Do you think the apple rain helps or diminishes the experience of apple picking?”

Logan stared up at the sky— cloudy, with a chance of apples.

“I don’t think catching apples in a basket counts as picking.”

“But it does count as fun!” Remus insisted.

“It’s not very effective.”

“Really now? Watch this!”

Remus pulled another wicker basket from the bag, and held it above his head. One, two, three apples hit the basket hard. The fourth made a sickening crunch as it hit the basket, and Logan flinched.

“What was that?”

“Some of the apples have bones!”

Logan furrowed his brows, looking at Remus. Another apple fell into his basket, thankfully lacking the crunching.

“An odd feature for an apple to have. What are the purpose of the bones? Structural stability? Do the bones assist in reproduction?”

“None of that!” Remus responded, “I just like the crunch! And Jannie likes the extra calcium!”

Logan nodded. Somehow, the fact that nothing made sense was logical. This was Remus’ land, it obeyed him. He plucked another apple from the tree.

“You know, Logan,” Remus said after a moment,  basket held over his head, “I think you’re Eve.”

Logan raised his eyebrow.

“And what do you mean by that?”

Remus shrugged. Another apple landed in the basket with a crunch.

“Well, you see, Eve ate the apple from the forbidden tree, because she wanted to know the difference between good and evil, she wanted to see like god. In all honesty, I don’t think she was tricked. She knew what she wanted. She knew what she was getting into. She was just scared to be held liable. She was scared of the judgement.”

Logan plucked another apple from the tree. He had to stand on his toes to reach it. What Remus was saying made no sense. If God had dropped him in the garden and told him to not eat the apple, he would’ve followed the rules. And he certainly feared no judgement. Certainly.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t? So you would have rather stayed ignorant? Unharmed by what you don’t know?”

Logan froze. Remus continued talking.

“I remember Janus told me you really went off at him when he suggested that ignorance is bliss. So, I think you’re just like Eve. I mean, would you give up peace for knowledge?”

Logan plucked another apple. Of course he would. What he wanted more than anything was a life full of books and reading, knowing everything there was to know. Being an academic.

“That isn’t my choice to make. Thomas has chosen his path in life.”

“But what if it was your choice? Then what would you do?”

Logan picked another apple. The basket was close to full.

“I would choose knowledge. I have told you what I would do as a human, I would pursue knowledge above all. I wouldn’t be able to stop my pursuit. I would never be satisfied.”

Remus snapped his fingers, and the apple rain stopped as suddenly as it started.

“Wisdom cries out in the street; in the squares she raises her voice. Proverbs 1, verse 20.  You’d never be able to stop learning once you started. Which I think is pretty cool!” Remus looked him dead in the eye, lowering his basket from his head. “You’re a passionate guy, Lo. Show it. I liked hearing you talk about saffron. And if they won’t listen? Then—“

“Then make them listen. Yes. You said it before.” Logan sighed. “I must admit, I don’t think I would be able to. Once they see me as a joke, it’s over. I’m only listened to when I’m being used to counter something that inhibits Virgil and Patton. For example, when you and Janus first appeared. I… I think we have enough apples.”

Remus took his basket, full of apples, and shoved it into the bag. Logan gave him his basket, and watched Remus make it disappear.

“If they won’t listen to you just because they see you act improperly, because they see you smile and feel happy, then they’re a bunch of hypocrites that I want to punt into the fucking sun.”

Logan took a deep breath in. A tiny little voice inside of him screamed to lash out, punch a tree in anger and frustration and pain, but that would be illogical. The apples had been picked. That was all. Now saffron, or honey, or whatever Remus would drag him to next. Then he’d be back in his room, asleep in his chair, then in the morning—

“I honestly don’t know why you care so much,” Remus said.

Logan exhaled.

“They’re all I have.”

Remus set a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, you’re have me now, too. Let’s go get the saffron!”

The earth suddenly fell out from under his feet. Logan couldn’t help the surprised yelp that escaped his mouth, hand flying out to grab Remus’ arm. Then as quickly as it disappeared, the earth came back, and his feet hit the ground. He yanked his hand away from Remus, brushing invisible dust off of the front of his shirt. 

They had appeared in a desert. The sun beat down bright and strong, no clouds in the sky to inhibit it. His feet sank into the sand. A harsh wind kicked up the sand, and it flew around in a flurry like a blizzard. Logan gazed at the horizon. Nothing for miles and miles, just sand, low and level.

“Is this where you find saffron?” Logan asked. Remus crossed his arms.

“You should know better than anyone that flowers can’t grow in a desert! And besides, I just found out saffron came from flowers. So I have to grow them!”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“Why bring us to a desert then?”

Remus smiled.

“Oh, you’ll see.”

Remus turned away from him. He raised his hands out, like he was conducting a band. He slowly breathed in. Logan felt the sand under his feet shift, pull together, and shake. Logan’s eyes went wide.

“What’re you—“

Remus turned back to Logan, eyes filled with fire.

“What is the best condition for crocuses, Logan?”

Logan swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“Saffron crocuses bloom in early to mid fall, and prefer sandy loam and lots of sunshine. They prefer soil with good drainage, as well as a pH range of 6.0 to 7.0. Crocus grow best in hardiness zones 5 through 8, not too hot, but not too cold either.”

A cool, fall breeze ruffled Remus’ hair and the fishnet shirt he wore. Logan raised an eyebrow. He couldn’t tell the temperature, but it certainly had gotten cooler.

“What is sandy loam?” Remus asked, knocking Logan’s train of thought off the tracks.

Logan paused for a moment. Remus really wanted to know. But why? The imagination didn’t follow the laws of physics or nature, why would he want to know? He said he liked hearing him talk. But did he?

“Sandy loam is soil that, while containing silt and clay, has primarily sand in it. It is a good soil for gardening because of its draining abilities… Does it matter?”

Remus tilted his head.

“Well, if you were to be making a big ol’ crocus field, you’d care about the soil! Everything about it! So since it matters to you…”

Remus smiled brightly, and grabbed Logan’s arm, tugging him. Logan let himself be pulled, finding himself right in front of Remus, stumbling as the ground shifted under his feet. Bright sand melded together and changed, turning into dark, rich earth. Logan knelt, scooping a little bit into his hand. Sandy loam. 

The soil in his hand moved, like a miniature earthquake. A small, green sprout rose from the dirt, reaching towards the sun. Delicate green leaves grew, and so did a small, purple bud. It opened. Vibrant amethyst petals showed themselves to him, but so did three red stigma. Saffron.

“My god,” Logan said, “that was amazing!”

Remus snorted out a laugh.

“What, you've never seen Roman do something like that?”

Logan shook his head. Roman preferred to run his side of the imagination like an actual human kingdom, planting saplings and waiting patiently for them to grow. Sometimes, he’d see Roman in the wheat fields, harvesting wheat with a large iron scythe, just how a human would do. He let everything take its time, and grow at its own pace. 

“Really?” Remus crowed. “Well then— watch this!”

Remus cackled, and snapped his fingers.

The ground shifted under Logan’s knees, and hundreds of little green sprouts poked out from the dark earth, basking in the gentle sunlight. Glorious purple buds opened to reveal perfect crocuses, each with three sprigs of saffron inside. Logan gazed out to the horizon. The desert had turned to a field of purple, as grand and never ending as a sunset.

Logan’s jaw dropped open in shock. For miles and miles, nothing but crocus…

“Amazing,” Logan whispered, “absolutely amazing.”

With a thud, Remus sat down next to him. He leaned forward, and tore one of the crocuses from the ground, holding it up to Logan. Then, the petals shuddered, as if blown by an invisible wind, merging and shifting until they had formed a purple frog.

“Look,” Remus exclaimed, “it’s a croak-us!”

Logan couldn’t help but snort with laughter, covering his mouth quickly. His eyes went wide. Remus didn’t seem to have any intention of poking fun at him for laughing, but it was better safe than sorry. Though he couldn’t help but think of Remus, sat at the kitchen table in nothing but an apron, saying that he’d beaten him fair and square, and could do so again. Logan lowered his hand from his mouth, chuckling quietly. It was a pretty funny pun.

"Yes," Logan opened his mouth, closed it, then exhaled. "'It's quite ribbit-ing." 

Logan looked up, meeting Remus’ eyes. There was no judgement, no smugness. Remus looked absolutely fucking delighted, a manic glint in his eyes.

"You've toad the line!” Remus cackled. Logan laughed quietly, staring right at the little frog in the flower, trying to think of another frog pun. His brows furrowed in thought. 

"Did you know that in South America, there's a species of big frog with enough poison to kill two thousand men?” Remus said, interrupting Logan’s train of a thought. 

"I don't believe that's true. The golden dart frog grows only up to five millimeters, as opposed to the goliath frog, which can grow up to three-hundred and twenty, and weigh just over four pounds."

“Damn, you know a lot about frogs,” Remus said, “it’s pretty cool!”

“I researched them extensively after Patton turned into one, just in case another problem arose.” 

They stared at each other, much too long to be considered normal. Remus's lips twitched. The silence grated on Logan’s nerves. Had he said something wrong? 

“Would you like to play a word association game?” Logan nervously asked.

"Part two: Electric Boogaloo!" Remus exclaimed, startling the croak-us enough to hop into the fields of its former kin.

He brought his hand down onto Logan's in a low five, purple petals smeared onto his palm. Remus was still grinning, parts of his moustache standing on end, like he'd been shocked. Electric Boogaloo. Remus sat, cross-legged in the new soil so they were face to face. Logan brushed against him, and felt the burn of a spark go out on his leg. Electric Boogaloo, again.

"Vampire,” Remus said.

Logan’s mind jumped to when Virgil had dressed as a vampire for halloween.

"Halloween."

“Black?”

"Orange."

"Bok choy!” Remus chirped.

Logan paused. What led to that connection? Remus shrugged.

"Plant,” Logan said, brushing off his previous confusion.

"Maple.”

"Canada.”

"Pancakes."

"Syrup."

"HONEY!"

Remus snapped, loud as a cracking whip. Logan watched him shake a freshly printed page he clutched in his hand, peering at it intensely. 

“It says on our list that we need honey!”

Logan looked back out at the field of crocuses. Every single one of them had three sprigs of saffron inside, red and beautiful. He could smell it, the aroma beautiful and heavy. 

“We have to harvest the saffron first, for the paella. How much will we need for the recipe, Remus?”

Remus sighed.

“Harvesting saffron ourselves sounds like a big waste of time. Don’t you think?”

Logan brushed his fingers on the warm, rich soil. He imagined Remus and him in the field of saffron, carefully plucking saffron from the flowers, putting the delicate threads in jars to be dried later. Then he could ask all the questions in the world about the soil, the saffron. He could spend hours talking to Remus about everything he wanted to. He wanted to say so much. And yet his mouth wouldn’t obey him. Remus wouldn’t tell him to shut up, so what was stopping him? Nothing was stopping him.

“Yes,” Logan said, “it would take up a good deal of time. But honey won’t take that long, will it?”

“I don’t even need honey,” Remus admitted, “I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you without any of the others popping in or having to wait until like five am. You’re the functional one, you gotta get some sleep.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. Oh. Remus’ words slowly went through his head. His heart did a backflip— even though that certainly was anatomically impossible— and his lungs stopped taking in air.

“Yeah,” Logan said, voice quiet, “I do. I mean— uh. Spending time with you is much better than laying unconscious for eight hours.”

“As if you get eight hours of sleep,” Remus said, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“So. We don’t need honey?”

“We still need mussels.”

“Mussels, yeah,” Logan said, breathless, standing up, “lead the way.”

“What about the saffron?” Remus said, raising an eyebrow. He stood.

“...Well. We can always come back for that some other time.”

Remus nodded, a bright smile plastered on his face.

“Yeah, some other time. Well then. Off we go!”

Remus grabbed Logan’s arm, and the world fell away from them. Logan closed his eyes. 

Waves crashed gently. He could hear them, and feel a cold sea breeze blow on his skin, ruffling his hair. He slowly opened his eyes. Apparently, night had fallen while his eyes were shut, and moonlight bathed everything in a pearly pale light. The air smelled like salt. Both of his feet were solidly on a wooden dock. Remus’ hand still felt warm on his arm.

“How long did that take?” Logan asked. The sun had still been up when they left.

“It’s always night here,” Remus explained, shifting his weight from foot to foot, “I like it better that way. Look at the beach and you’ll see why.”

Logan turned his head. The moon shone gently on the black sand beach, but more impressive were the waves— each foaming, rushing wave carried with it an ethereal teal glow, like all the stars in the sky were gently ebbing with every wave. Logan stared at the water, eyes wide. 

“The waves glow like that because of an algal bloom, right? And when the water moves it causes the algae to glow. It is absolutely wonderful, Remus.”

Remus smiled, running his hand through his hair, almost as if he was shy.

“Thanks, this place is one of the first places I’ve ever made, and the first one I felt satisfied with. The rest of this place I like to keep constantly changing, but not here.”

Remus walked to the end of the dock. He calmly set his bag down, then yanked off his fishnet top, holding it in his hand. Logan watched his hands undo the button of his shorts, then watched Remus toss his shorts onto the dock, revealing the bright green speedo he wore, leaving nothing up to the imagination. Remus raised his arms out like Christ on the cross, looking up at the full moon. Then he tilted backwards, gracefully falling off the dock, and landing in the water with a loud splash.

Logan slowly walked to the end of the dock. He knelt, knees pressed against wet wood. Even through the glowing waves and the dark water he could see Remus’ back, his legs, pale skin disappearing quickly underwater. 

Logan’s hands clasped the indigo fabric of his tie. Then they drifted down. He sat down, cross legged, staring down at the water. Slowly, he took one shoe off, setting it carefully behind him. Then the other. He pulled off his socks and placed them in his shoes. Then his pants, leaving him in boxers, his shirt, and his tie. He took off his glasses.

His hands clasped his tie again. He gazed at the water, dark as the night around him except for the beautiful waves and the occasional glimpse of Remus’ skin. Then he raised his head, staring out into the distance. He could see for miles. Empty, dark ocean, with no land in sight. Slowly, he loosened the knot. His hands shook. 

Remus wouldn’t care. He wouldn’t care if he took off his tie. He wouldn’t see him as less. He would see him as Logic, as Logan. Nothing less. 

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath of cold, salty air. pulled off his tie, setting it with the rest of his clothing. Before he could lose his nerve he yanked his shirt off, threw it haphazardly in the pile of clothing, and ran to the end of the dock. He jumped. Time seemed to slow as he rushed through the air, flying to the water—

He landed with a loud, graceless splash. The water around him lit up like fireworks. Surprisingly, the water felt warm compared to the bite of the wind. Logan couldn’t tell where Remus was, he just knew he was underwater with him now. Logan kicked and paddled until he reached the surface, gasping for breath. A sharp laugh escaped him. His heart pounded in his chest— he could feel it beating, even though he knew he didn’t need one to function. The waves rushed over him, bright as all the stars. 

Logan treaded water in place, then let himself tilt back, until he floated on his back. Waves gently rocked him, and he let them. What had he been so scared of? He laughed again, much quieter, listening to the waves rush to shore. 

Next to him, he heard Remus surface, taking a deep breath.

“You good?” Remus asked. Logan turned his head a little, looking at Remus. His hair was soaked, plastered to his forehead.

“Perfectly fine,” Logan responded, “and you?”

Remus didn’t answer, just smiled and sunk into the water. The wind blew cold over his skin, sending a shudder up his spine. Remus had to be swimming under him, collecting the mussels he’d use for the paella. Logan couldn’t help but wait for the time they’d be able to spend in the kitchen, knees bumping, or the time they’d spend collecting saffron, the sun shining on violet flowers in a golden gleam. 

Logan breathed out slowly. There was something with Remus that made all his thoughts become portraits. Cohesive, yes, but coated in a loveliness that never used to be there. It might have to do with the imagination. It might not. 

The waves beneath him swelled, then gently ebbed out. Remus surfaced again, treading water as easily as breathing. He’d changed his fishnet top into a net, which was full of mussels and what looked like clams, maybe? Logan couldn’t tell. 

Remus gingerly grabbed Logan’s arm. The waves under them swelled. 

“Let’s go back up onto the dock,” Remus whispered.

Logan nodded. Within the blink of the eye, they both appeared on the dock, both of them soaking wet. Remus shook his head like a dog, water flying everywhere. Logan raised his hand to keep the water from hitting him, even though he was already absolutely soaked. Remus set the bag of shellfish on the dock with a clatter. 

He calmly took one out of the net, and Logan realized they were oysters, not clams. Remus grabbed his bag, unzipping one of the pockets and pulling out a knife. He held the oyster carefully, curved side flat against his palm, and wiggled his knife into the hinge between the shells. Remus’ hands were surprisingly steady, even as the knife slipped between the shells and the oyster popped open. He scraped the knife against the inside of the shell, freeing up the meat, then knocked the oyster back like a shot.

Silently, he offered Logan the knife. Their fingers brushed as Logan took the hilt of the knife, grabbing an oyster from the net. He mimicked Remus’ movements, trying to slip the knife between the two shells. Remus chuckled, and grabbed the hand that held the knife. 

“You have to press harder,” he said, “you can’t finesse your way into the shell, you have to put some oomf behind it. If you don’t, it’ll never ever open up.”

Logan swallowed. He felt oddly lightheaded as Remus guided the knife between the shells of the oyster, helping him push the knife into the space between the shell, easing the hinges apart with the flat of the blade. The shell slipped into the cup of his fingers, just so, supported by the weight of Remus's hands over his, thumb pushing against his, twisting the hinge open with a pop.

"See?" Remus was grinning, that ever-present expression of glee, and Logan tore his eyes from it to the movement of hands again, guiding the knife under the oyster to lift the flat shell off. 

"These would be good for the garden," Logan blurted out. Remus looked up, just as attentive as he'd always been, and the words caught in his throat for a second. "For- for the soil, oyster shells, when ground into powder, have been shown to improve soil pH and nutrient status, strengthening cell walls due to an increase in calcium, overall resulting in healthier produce.”

Remus tilted his head. Logan’s face flushed.

“...I know you employ an extraordinary method of growing and cultivating, and therefore have no need for this knowledge, but tossing them aside or simply letting them disappear seemed.. unnecessary."

"I think you need to stop worrying about what I need to know, and start asking what else I'd want to hear,” Remus said with a grin, “But it is flattering that you think it's extraordinary. Now why don’t you try the oyster?”

Logan stared at the meat of the oyster.

“I just… drink it?”

“Like a shot, yeah.”

Logan slowly brought the oyster to his mouth. Slowly, he tilted his head back, opening his mouth.

The taste made his eyes go wide. The meat of the oyster was plump against his tongue, but it tasted like coppery brine. He swallowed it without chewing, since he hadn’t noticed Remus’ jaw moving. The coppery taste lingered on his tongue. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath of fresh, ocean air.

“Why don’t you stay here?” Remus suddenly asked. Logan’s eyes shot wide open. He had another oyster in his hands, wriggling his knife between the shells.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Remus looked down at the oyster, face surprisingly blank and unreadable.

“You spend all day in your room except for when you come out and cook with me. I have a feeling that I almost wasn’t able to get you out of your room today. So why don’t you just stay here? I can make you a castle or a cottage for you to study in, and you won’t have to worry about the others bothering you. And you’ll be able to come here whenever you want. So what do you say. Will you stay?”

Logan stared down at his hands. He could. He could say yes, and watch Remus make him a place to stay, a place that was truly his. No worries of anyone walking in and seeing him disheveled, just himself and Remus.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t say yes. I’m needed with the rest of the sides, and Virgil may see my leaving as betrayal, or a sign of untrustworthiness. I need to keep them on my side. I need them to trust me, to listen to me.”

Remus still was fixated on the oyster. The knife slipped between the two shells, and it popped open. Remus’ brows rose.

“I still think you’d enjoy it here more than you would crammed in your little room all the time. And I don’t know how to tell you in a way that’ll make you listen, but they need you more than you think they do. You are all of Thomas’ cleverness and wit. Where would he be without you? Creativity is nothing without knowledge— whether its working with or against knowledge.”

Logan shook his head. Remus slowly reached for Logan’s hand. Logan let him take it, pull his fingers open, and press something into his palm. It felt like a pebble. Logan felt his hands ball into fists.

“Roman seems to mostly work against me, but at least Thomas heeds his words. I really can’t stay here. I…. I should honestly go. It’s late.”

Logan awkwardly stood, fists still clenched. Remus looked up at him with wide eyes, brows furrowed.

“Are you sure?”

Logan opened his mouth, but no words came out. A part of him still wanted to stay, to sit with Remus at the dock and watch the glowing waves, to eat oysters with him. He closed his mouth and nodded. Remus sighed.

“Alright. I’ll teleport you and your clothes back to your room. Just… you’re welcome back whenever you want. Don’t be a stranger, Logan.”

Logan smiled. He wanted to say something, but the next thing he knew the world vanished around him. Then it reappeared, and he saw the door to his room. There was a bowl of spaghetti in front of it. It had long grown cold, but Logan picked it up anyways, and stepped into his room.

He set the bowl of spaghetti on his desk, and haphazardly tossed his clothes on the floor. He felt soaked to the bone, and started to shiver a little, even though he knew he couldn’t feel cold, couldn’t feel pain, couldn’t feel the cocktail of conflicting emotions inside of him. With a sigh, he sat in his office chair. His hands, still curled into fists, shook slightly. What had Remus given him? Slowly, he relaxed his fingers. 

Resting in his palm was a round, black pearl. 

Logan stared at the black pearl in his palm. A million different thoughts rushed through his head, most of them strange and illogical. He could go back to the pier and watch the luminescent waves, or help Remus grind the oyster shells down into fertilizer. And they would eat oysters together until they had enough pearls to make a necklace, a necklace he’d wear wherever he went.

Then what? 

Then Logan would wear the necklace, and someone would ask where he got it from.

This was for the best for Thomas’ stability. It had to be.

Logan let his head flop against the headrest of his office chair, and shut his eyes, hoping sleep would take him.

He never let go of the pearl.

[fictionalabyss]

Saltine.

Pairing : Crowley x Plussize!Reader

Word count : 1,930

Warnings : AU (Crowley isn't a demon but is super fucking rich), Cam girl, Cam show, drinking, partial nudity

Header by : @sorenmarie87, as always. She's the best and I adore her and her work.

Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.

The internet was filled with so many girls thinking they could get rich quick just by taking off their clothes. Like they were something special, something to behold. But really, they were one in a billion. Forgettable. Nothing different from the next person.

You were one in thousands. Slightly better odds.

Being a BBW, while nothing overly special on it’s own, did do one thing for you. People who ended up in your room knew what they wanted. They wanted a curvaceous goddess in their face. Curves and softness, something you had plenty of. The pool of plus size cam girls was smaller than the pool of everyone else.

Beyond that, you did what people paid you to do. If a guy paid you to fill your room with balloons and pop them one after another by sitting on them, you did it. Rub lotion all over your stomach and then spit on it, sure. Wear clothes that were two sizes too small, why not.

Tonight was kind of like that. Packages from a few regulars had shown up in your PObox, and one of them had contained a bottle of booze. Glencraig, a scotch whiskey you’d never heard of until James showed up in your chat room and paid for a private show where you drank and talked with him for an hour about two months ago. Now you had your own bottle. So you had taken a picture of it sitting between your legs, put it as your profile pic on the site and titled your chat “Me and Craig. Let’s see where this goes.”

Crowley’s bored and frustrated. The office is empty and he’s supposed to be working but he’s pent up. It’s been a long day of morons fucking shit up and he needed a god damn break. Billions of dollars at his disposal and he still couldn’t buy good fucking help to run his business.

He’s scrolling through women, looking for someone to catch his eye and quickly realizing he doesn’t think anyone will. They’re all the same. Once you’ve had one, you’d had them all, and he’s had plenty in his time. Fergus McLeod was no innocent. He was the farthest thing from it.

With a grunt of disapproval, he started looking for something different, hoping for something new. Key words being typed into searches, but nothing catching his eye in half of those either. Not for long, anyways. ‘BBW’ was a keyword he’d hit. Not many girls online, some of them into some niche things that he’d honestly consider, but all their pictures were the same. Every single one.

Except one. It had him leaning closer, trying to read the label. Interested enough in that at least, he hit join. What he found inside made his cock twitch.

A dark leather chair, not too different from one he  sat in himself. Smooth thick thighs he found himself wanting to bite into. And between them? The item that had taken hold of his interest, the reason he’d clicked to join. Glencraig. The bottle was freshly opened from the looks of it, about three fingers missing, so probably only on her second glass at most. He leaned in again, trying to get a closer look at the label. A soft curse fell from his lips when he saw the numbers 1974, and then ‘Aged 34 Years’. His cock twitched again, and he found himself reaching down to grip it through his slacks.

It was a close up of the bottle right now, and he wasn’t complaining. No one complained when she went to refill her glass, either. A whiskey glass was brought down to her thigh, then the bottle was brought out of where it was nestled, and a bare pussy was exposed. Chimes rang through his office, followed by a soft giggle as she poured, and then the bottle was placed back down, her pussy hidden once more behind the amber liquid and the black label. Then the camera moved.

It was tilted up more, following the glass as it was brought up to her lips and she took another sip. A shiver ran down her spine as it burned, and Crowley found himself smiling along with her. He heard another chime, then her laugh again. The tip amounted to about 75$, give or take.

“James, don’t be absurd, you already paid for the bottle.” She spoke as she pushed the camera back, giving a full view. Bottle between her legs and that seductive smile on her lips.

A message came up in the chat that read ‘Maybe I want you to be able to get yourself another. Hey guys! Let’s get her enough to order another bottle so we can have another night like this!’

The chat sped up, messages agreeing with the sentiment, and more chimes of tips being given for the cause. Another giggle came from her lips as she brought the glass back up to her mouth.

Not to be out done, Crowley made a donation of his own.

You were smiling, giggling, happy that everyone seemed to enjoy the theme of the room tonight. Glad that James approved of how you used his gift. You tilted the glass back just as a few chimes went off signaling more donations, and one of them made you choke on the scotch and spit it out. You stared at the screen, stunned as the liquid ran down off your chin.

Who the fuck was TheKing, and why did he just drop what had to be about 2 grand on you?

A new alert sounded, and you noticed you had a DM. Speak of the devil.

>> TheKing : From one Glencraig lover to another. I hope you enjoy it, love.

You stared at it, still in shock. In all your time as a cam girl, on here, on BBW specific sites, nothing like this had ever happened before. People bought gifts, sure, but this?

>> TheKing : Breathe, darling. >> TheKing : Don’t forget to breathe.

Realizing you had just been sitting there staring at the screen, you wiped your chin off and licked your lips, trying to collect yourself. The main chat was blowing up, you weren’t the only one dealing with shock and awe with what just happened.

“Uhm.” you breathed out awkwardly, not sure what to say, how to react. Was this real? “All hail The King?” an awkward chuckle followed the words, but the chat room was filled with messages of ‘all hail TheKing!’  “Should I bow.. or..” you joked, with a shy smile.

>> TheKing : No need to bow, love. >> TheKing : Though I wouldn’t say no to a conversation.

A soft smile graced your lips before you typed out your answer.

<< Saltine : We’re having a conversation. >> TheKing : I was thinking something a little more face to face. >> TheKing : I hear your voice, you hear mine.

You licked your lips, the general chat room forgotten for the moment. With money he dropped on you, your undivided attention for a moment was the least you could do.

<< Saltine : I don’t meet people from the site in person. It’s a safety issue, I’m sure you understand.

Three little dots in the corner let you know he was typing almost immediately.

>> TheKing : I wouldn’t expect you to, love. I meant more of a chat where I have my camera on too. Make it a little more intimate. I don’t mind paying for a private show where you don’t need to show anything. I would just like a drink with you.

You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment, considering the offer. Private shows didn’t really happen a whole lot, but when they did, it was charged by the minute so it was worth the time. You found yourself using your thumb to crack the knuckle of your index finger, and then your middle one before you nodded. “Yeah, we can do a private chat.” you spoke, letting the chatroom know your cam would be shutting off in there in a minute.

>> TheKing : You just made me a very happy man, darling. Whenever you’re ready, you let me know.

You were chewing on your lip as you waited for his cam to kick in. It was a moment of black before a bright light seemed to come on, and quickly it shifted. There was black in the middle of brightness, and then slowly the light seemed to adjust. It was a window. A massive window. As the lighting adjusted, you found yourself looking at a man in a suit and behind him, a city skyscape all laid out for him.  Glancing at the time, you wondered where in the world he was. Was it evening like where you were, the sun still holding on and not yet ready to set, or was that a morning glow behind him. Either way, it looked beautiful.

The man himself was something to behold. Not stunningly beautiful, not young and fit like some of the guys who popped up on camera for you, but captivating. He seemed to demand attention, radiating power. He was someone. A few very short hairs touched his forehead, he had a short beard as well, one you had the urge to run your fingertips over. Dark piercing eyes that you felt burning into you as one side of his mouth turned up into a smirk at your reaction of seeing him.

“H-hi.” you stuttered, then curse yourself for it.

His smile only widened. He brought a glass up, and that’s when you noticed the bottle on his desk. The same as the bottle still sitting between your thighs. He took a sip, then placed the glass down on the dark wood. “Why Saltine?” he asked, and you felt your stomach flutter at the accent.

“Because I’m so fucking salty all the time?” You gave him a shy smile. “Why TheKing? What are you the king of?”

“Your dreams.” He answered without hesitation and a fuck ton of confidence. He was cocky, he knew the effect he had on people and how to use it. “If you wish it.”

“Tempting.” you try to tease, lifting your own glass to your lips. “Why me?” you ask before sipping.

“Glencraig. Aged 30 years or more, there is no finer drink, love. It’s rare to find a woman with such tastes.”

“It was bought for me.”

“But you enjoy it, yes?” You gave him a nod. You had to admit, it wasn’t bad. “A woman of taste.” he smiled again. “What other things do you enjoy, Saltine? Money? Things? Travel?”

“Are you offering?” he intrigued you. He really did. Something about him made you want more and you didn’t even know him. “I could use a vacation.”

“Anywhere you want, darling. Where would you like to go?”

“Paris.” You answered quickly, and it didn’t seem to faze him at all. “Scotland.” you added. “England. Ireland. India. Japan. I want to see it all.”

His smile widened again. “Scotland, eh? It has been a while since I’ve been home.”

“I was joking.” you chuckled.

“I wasn’t. In another life, I could’ve given you everything you wanted and more with just a snap of my fingers.” You sat there, stunned again. “Choose a place and I’ll send you there. If you want, I’ll take the time and meet you there. The choice is yours, darling. It’s been a long time since I’ve been this interested in anything.”

“All because of a bottle of Craig?” you asked.

“Everything good in life starts with a quality scots. Be it a whiskey, or a scotsman.” he winked. “So where first?”

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[arumin-arureruto]

Honeytea PT 2

Kyoya x fem reader and Hikaru x fem reader, Kyoya angst, Hikaru slowburn.

Warnings: none

word count: 1.7k

songs to listen to while reading:

What Am I by Why Dont We

Greek God by Conan Gray

hikaru’s outfit:

Reader’s outfit (your outfit can be whatever you want this is just what I had in mind while writing <3):

Cafe Hikaru and reader are at:

you woke up with the sun shining on your eyes, reaching out to feel the spot where your husband had been sleeping cold and empty, he had already left for work. Last night was emotionally exhausting, you had a fight with Kyoya and called Hikaru while your emotions were running high, even though you woke up feeling calmer it would still be nice to see him. You decided to get up and check your phone to see if you were still on for today, there were 6 unread messages from Hikaru.

“checking if ur okay”

“meet me tomorrow at 12pm for lunch at that cafe near my house, the one Honey got banned from”

“btw how the fuck do you manage to get banned from a restaurant for eating too much cake”

*picture of a single spoon inside a sink* “lol me”

“I should probably go to bed now goodnight”

He hasn’t changed a bit since high school, that’s what was so comforting to you about Hikaru. He took you back to a time where everything was much more simpler, lazy afternoons on the grass with the host club, drinking tea by the window in music room 3 with Kyoya, study sessions with Mori and Honey, getting into all sorts of mischief with Hikaru and Kauro, quietly reading with Haruhi, piano lessons from Tamaki…

All those memories started playing back in your mind and you started to feel all warm inside, you really didn’t know how good you had it. It’s not that you weren’t happy, you were married to the man you loved, you were one of the most respected and powerful women in society, what else could you ask for? But sometimes it felt like you were missing out on something, like your world could be so much more. When you mentioned this to Kyoya a couple months ago he suggested you try for children but you quickly shot down the idea, you were 23 and he was 24, having kids right now would be too big of a responsibility.

Shaking those thoughts from your head you checked the time on your phone, 10am. You still had 2hours before you had to meet Hikaru so going back to sleep was a tempting offer, but considering the cafe was almost 30 minutes away and you got easily distracted while getting ready it would be wiser to start picking out some clothes and getting in the shower. There was about 45 minutes before a maid was supposed to come in and clean your room so you figured that should be enough time to take a quick shower, you could just ask them to wait till you were done but you always felt awkward doing so.

After zoning out for a minute you headed for the shower, got undressed, put your hair up and turned on the hot water, you already washed your hair yesterday so there was no point in washing it again. You had always loved showers, the feeling of the warm water on your skin, the sound of the water dripping on the floor and the smell of all your products were enough to wash all your problems away. After about 25 minutes in the shower you turned the water off and stepped out, already missing the warmth of the water. After quickly drying yourself off with a towel you started massaging some lotion into your skin, first your arms and then your legs, this was your favorite part of your routine. When you felt that you had enough lotion on already you put on a robe, walked out of the bathroom and towards your walk in closet. It was september so the weather was still warm, today would be a simple dress day, or as simple as you could. Downside of being married to Kyoya Ootori: having to keep up appearances ALWAYS. After picking out a dress it was time for shoes, you gravitated towards a gorgeous pair of open toed gold heels that would’ve gone really well with your dress, but your legs were still slightly sore from last night so sandals it is.

After scrutinizing every part of your outfit and make up, which in the end you decided to go with a simple eyeliner, mascara and gloss, it was already 11:15. You grabbed your purse and asked someone to bring the car around. You hurriedly walked down the large staircase, excitement clear in your step, you got inside the car and gave a quick hello to the driver.

“Good morning Mrs Ootori, where to?”

“Morning Ryuzaki, Honeytea Cafe.”

“Understood ma’am.”

After giving your instructions you  pressed the button to lift the divider between the driver and the backseat, needing to be alone. You hadn’t seen Hikaru in person since your wedding reception, you talked on the phone occasionally but always for less than 2 minutes, this was the first time in months you would be in the same room again. Was it gonna be awkward? I mean you did call him yesterday late at night crying so what if he thought you were weird? No, no, this was Hikaru, your best friend since your first year of high school, everything was gonna be fine.

The 30 minute ride felt like it went by in less than 15, After getting to the cafe you told Ryuzaki to go back home and that you would call when you were done, since you didn’t know how long you would take. 11: 52pm, 8 minutes till you were supposed to meet Hikaru, meaning you had 8 minutes to get your act together.

You stepped into the cafe and scanned the place, 6 years and nothing had changed. Still the same old tall bookshelves lined the walls. The same paintings on the walls, and just like you remembered, peace and quiet. Since the cafe was a bit old fashioned it tended to attract an older crowd, old people just trying to enjoy their coffee and adults in their 30s that wanted a quiet place to work. While you continued to examine the room, lost in your own world, you felt a pair of slender hands on your shoulders and heard a familiar voice coming from behind you.

“Taking a trip down memory lane while blocking the way huh? Honestly y/n I thought commoners taught their children better manners.”

At first you were startled but then you quickly turned around to face the voice and there he was. Tall, mischievous smile and wild hair, Hikaru Hitachiin in the flesh. “Hikaru I-” you hugged him before you could even finish your sentence. You stood there with your arms wrapped around his neck in silence for a couple more seconds.

“y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re still blocking the way.”

Oh right.

Behind you 2 old ladies stood with unpleasant expressions on their faces, you both moved out of the way to let the ladies through, they walked past you and muttered something about today’s youth having no respect for their elders. You stood there slightly embarrassed, heat rising to your cheeks while Hikaru looked like he might burst out laughing.

You decide to grab a table at the very back of the cafe, away from everyone else. After you sit down Hikaru strikes a conversation. “Haven’t seen you in a year y/n, how’s married life been treating you?” He propped up his elbow and leaned his head on his hand, keeping his eyes focused on you.

Damn so we’re already on that topic.

“We’ve had our ups and downs, what about you? How are you and Kaoru doing?” Hopefully he won't bring up your phone call from yesterday. “We’re doing pretty good, Kaoru actually started seeing someone a couple months ago. Cute boy he met at an art gallery.” You could hear the tiniest hint of jealousy in the last part, but overall Hikaru sounded happy for his brother. “Oh he did? That’s cool” you stay silent for a couple seconds before proceeding with what you were saying. “And how do you feel about Kaoru seeing someone?” Hikaru’s eyes shifted from you to the table and kept them focused there. “In the beginning it was weird, I hated the idea of having to share him with someone else but now, I see how happy he is with Evan and that’s all that matters to me.” He looked up from the table to look at you and smile, then he spoke again but this time in a more playful tone. “So are we eating or what? Man were you seriously gonna let me starve? Typical Ootori.” That comment made you laugh, you really did miss him.

You both ordered and paid separately, since you knew you would argue over who would pay the bill. After you both received your food you sat down to eat, while you ate you reminisced about the past and talked about all the trouble you used to get into back in the day.

“No no, you were the one that tricked Tamaki into dressing up as Haruhi to fool the doctors during the physical exam that one time.” He laughed and pointed at you with a piece of bread. “Whaaaaat? Me? I would never, I was just an innocent bystander” you defended yourself while also laughing, then you remembered something. “No but for real that one wasn’t my idea, actually Kyoya came up with it.” Hikaru stopped laughing but still had a smile on his face, he then asked you a question.

“So Kyoya…” There was a pause before he spoke again.

“You mentioned you have your ups and downs, I’m guessing yesterday was a down?”

The food that was in your throat had trouble going down, you tried to quickly swallow and answer Hikaru’s question. “Yesterday was definitely not one of our best days” You let out a nervous laugh. Before you could elaborate a middle aged man came up to your table and asked if he could borrow one of your chairs for his daughter, seeing that you were both already finished with your food you told him he could have the chairs and got up to leave.

As you were walking out of the coffee shop Hikaru tapped your shoulder.

“Hey my house is just a 5 minute drive from here, we could go there if you wanna talk more in private.”

[nutty1005]

Xiao Zhan, welcome to the cruel entertainment business

Original Article: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/6qaJPp9O1exu4M8xtbt71A Original Author: 杨晋亚 Translator’s note: The original author is part of Yuli Studio, this article is published in Yuli Studio’s Weixin Official Account on 15 Sep 2019 as a part of “Behind the Screens” Volume 210.

“I never thought it would happen this way, this was fated.”

A month ago, he was just accepted by audiences due to “The Untamed” and just became one of the most popular actors. Now, he had to take on the responsibility of a movie’s box office as the main lead actor, and show his worth to the movie industry.

Three days before “Jade Dynasty I” aired in the cinemas, Yuli Studio met up with the nervous Xiao Zhan, who told us his fears, “Movies, well, they are very direct, very pragmatic and very cruel, so there’s no choice, since we’re already here, I just have to work hard to do my best.”

With traffic and popularity, comes others’ views and opinions – some expected him to withstand the stress of the box office, but there were also others waiting to laugh at his failure. “Jade Dynasty I” was the first obstacle Xiao Zhan was breaking through, and the path ahead was still long.

Xiao Zhan, welcome to the cruel entertainment business.

Xiao Zhan at “Jade Dynasty I” Press Conference

01

Looking back at the movie journeys of all the traffic actors, no one was like Xiao Zhan, who took on a movie while he was still a nobody, and this movie aired just barely 2 months after he made a name, putting his resource conversion ability to a public test.

On the first day, the box office was 142 million, on the second day it broke 200 million, these were the results “Jade Dynasty I” achieved during the Mid Autumn movie season, which exceeded many people’s expectations. The first day was with fans support, the second day still had interested moviegoers, Xiao Zhan’s first time as the lead actor on silver screen and he miraculously withstood the box office.

“Jade Dynasty I” Super Topic + Maoyan Movie Professional Box Office Chart

This was Xiao Zhan’s third time on the silver screen.

The first time, he was a little monster dressed in flowery clothes in “Monster Hunt 2”, drowned in a sea of group actors, almost unnoticeable as the camera panned past him in a second. The second time, he was a special agent, a side character that barely had 1 minute of screen time, in “The Rookies” during that year’s summer movie season. The third time, he became the main lead actor and took on the entire movie, presenting the process of innocent Zhang Xiaofan becoming a demon.

The production team of “Jade Dynasty I” revealed that, whether or not Xiao Zhan became popular, the movie was planned to air on 8 Aug, however because the post production was incomplete, hence it was shifted to the Mid Autumn movie season.

Director Cheng Xiaodong said that the luckiest decision he made for “Jade Dynasty I” was to cast Xiao Zhan, “I never thought that his acting would be so natural so good, he is not pretentious, and he is very humble, when you tell him something he will listen and improve.”

Stage photographs from “Jade Dynasty I”, Xiao Zhan before and after demonizing 

On set, Cheng Xiaodong even actively added some scenes for Xiao Zhan, for example the scene at the start of the movie where Xiaofan was fantasizing about his senior, Tian Linger, “I found that he could act in all layers, he could do dull and dimwitted, he could do the demonizing transformation later on, so this movie he had many layers, the pace kept changing.”

To Xiao Zhan, Zhang Xiaofan of “Jade Dynasty I” was an unforgettable milestone, it was considered to be his toughest filming. Filming in conditions under 20°C and being blown by a giant fan, hung upside down for a free fall of 30 meters, in order to maintain his sense of the role, he even turned off the heater in his trailer, just so that his body will adapt to the temperature outside.

Before “Jade Dynasty I” aired, Xiao Zhan once said, “If the reception of the movie isn’t very good, I just have to work harder in the future. If it was not bad, then I am grateful that you saw my hard work from that period of time.”

After the movie aired, Xiao Zhan became the center of discussion for “Jade Dynasty I”. The movie’s quality was the result of an entire movie crew’s hard work, but now that all the discussions had landed on Xiao Zhan, to a certain degree, that was the price to pay for fame.

Stage photograph from”Jade Dynasty I”, Xiao Zhan as Zhang Xiaofan 

02

On 23 Aug, there was a video on Weibo that was reposted a few tens of thousands of times.

In the video, Xiao Zhan had just ended a day’s filming, and after he got off the car, the 20 over fans waiting at the hotel entrance got rowdy, they blocked Xiao Zhan’s path and took pictures of him in his face using their phones. Spotting a gap at the side, Xiao Zhan suddenly took off running, and then he safely entered the elevator.

During the filming period of “The Oath of Love” recently at Wuxi, crazy fan actions were happening everyday as Xiao Zhan went to and from his work, sometimes they would surround and block him in the underground car park, sometimes when he got into the car they would forcibly block the car doors from closing, sometimes they would knock on his hotel room door to stuff notes to him.

Xiaofan, a staff who worked around Xiao Zhan said that the sasaeng problems was already very serious, the company wanted to provide him two assistants and security guards, but Xiao Zhan insisted not to.

“Because he didn’t want to give off the impression that he started acting like a big shot after he got famous.”

During the interview, Xiao Zhan spoke about the sasaeng problems again

From the media’s perspective, we have witnessed many artists change after they got famous, some would have a star aura, some would be exuding confidence from in to out, Yuli Studio’s reporter Lanpangzi once visited the set of “The Untamed”, and one year later met Xiao Zhan again at the “Jade Dynasty I” press conference, Lanpangzi discovered that Xiao Zhan was still as warm and accommodating like the boy-next-door.

At the backstage of the press conference, a few tens of guests spoke to Xiao Zhan consecutively, he was smiling at everyone, and slowly fulfilled each and everyone’s request to take a photograph together, and only until 4pm that afternoon he was able to finally have time for a few mouths of a lunchbox. The continuous non-stop interviews started at 4.05pm, all the reporters wanted a photograph together, and he tried to accommodate even under such tight scheduling.

After becoming famous, Xiao Zhan had more and more interviews, and if he was not careful, he would be accused of putting on airs if the arrangements of the interviews were done wrongly. Xiaofan said that Xiao Zhan himself was especially aware of this point, “He is now even more nervous than before, and he had expectations of all of his staff, please don’t think that he is putting on airs just because of our errors.”

Xiao Zhan at the “Jade Dynasty I” Press Conference

After joining the “Jade Dynasty I” press conference in Beijing, Xiao Zhan had to quickly fly back to Wuxi to continue filming.

Before “The Untamed” finished airing, Xiao Zhan had already entered the filming for “The Oath of Love”, and filming while at the height of his fame would mean that he would miss a lot of event opportunities. When his fans were worried about his limited exposures, Xiao Zhan’s thoughts was that: “What’s there to be worried about, I feel that an actor’s life comes from his works.”

In fact, Xiao Zhan had received a lot of invitations from many events, so his biggest worry was how he could maintain his normal acting condition.

“Some events you just had to complete, and then I had some commercial obligations prior, like that day at Suzhou, that was a contract that I signed then,” Xiaofan said, “the last thing that Xiao Zhan wanted to do was to take leave.”

Xiao Zhan’s current schedule at “The Oath of Love” was from 8am to 10pm, if he had to take leave, it meant that when Xiao Zhan returned to the set he would have to work overtime to film his scenes.

Stage photograph from “The Oath of Love”, Xiao Zhan as Gu Wei

The performance teacher accompanying the filming , Yang Xu, witnessed Xiao Zhan’s helplessness and anxiety.

“His load in ‘The Oath of Love’ was especially big, basically we could only discuss his scenes that day while he was doing his make up in the morning, because the filming would end very late at night, I wanted him to go back for more rest. Moreover the fan problems now are too prominent, sometimes he would also talk to me a bit, although I don’t think this incident affected his mood or his performance, but it definitely affected his normal resting time.”

For a while, Yang Xu was very worried about Xiao Zhan’s condition, but what surprised him was that, although the filming would end very late at night, but by the next day, Xiao Zhan would have memorized his lines and made full preparations before coming to the make up room.

“That was what made him powerful, and I found that he would actually really use every bit of spare time to prepare for the role and his lines, for example, while doing his make up, even when going to the toilet, he would be holding the script, and then during the rest period after filming every scene, he would be reading his lines with me while drinking coffee, because lines reading needed partners, I said you just take me as your partner.”

When he was away from the set on leave, Xiao Zhan took late night flights between Beijing and Wuxi almost every time, and in the photographs taken by his fans at the airport, he would also be reading his script.

Stage photograph from “The Oath of Love”, Xiao Zhan as Gu Wei 

Every early morning at the make up room would also be the spare time for Xiao Zhan and Xiaofan to talk about their work and release stress.

“Now he does not seem to enjoy the applause and glory from the opportunities that came with his sudden fame, a lot of it was some anxiety and confusion,” in Xiaofan’s eyes, these two months in Xiao Zhan’s life definitely changed.

“Suddenly, we experienced a lot of things that we don’t quite understand, it could have been a small mistake at work, but we would gain the attention of anti-fans or fans. He is more of an introvert, he doesn’t go out to entertain, stays at home more, leads simple life, and suddenly his life came under the spotlight, wherever he went there will be fans following, he was definitely anxious.”

The seniors in the industry would also give Xiao Zhan some advice, and share with him some of the survival rules in the entertainment world that he had not experienced. “For example we will having having a fun conversation, or someone would be telling some something he does not know about in the industry, the next day he will tell me that the conversation made him quite excited, he learned a lot, I feel like he is a sponge like person, continuously absorbing,” a senior in the industry revealed.

Xiao Zhan 

03

On 10 Aug, a day before the filming starts for “The Oath of Love”, performance teacher Yang Xu finally met Xiao Zhan again.

The script for “The Oath of Love” was given to Yang Xu quite early on, Xiao Zhan also wanted to quickly get into the preparation for this role, but because the promotion schedule for “The Untamed” was too tight, they did not manage to squeeze out some time to discuss about the script face-to-face.

“That day’s morning he just fixed his costume, we only met briefly at night,” Yang Xu recalled, but what put him at ease was that Xiao Zhan already made full analysis and preparation of the script, “At that time, I felt assured, his analytical skills of his roles were getting stronger, he was already able to analyze the script independently.”

Yang Xu, who was once a teacher in Central Drama School, participated in many dramas, such as “Nothing Gold Can Stay”, as their performance instructor. When he joined “The Oath of Love”, it was already his third time working with Xiao Zhan.

Stage photograph from “The Oath of Love”, Xiao Zhan as Gu Wei 

While filming “The Untamed”, Xiao Zhan told the visiting staff from Yuli Studio that he wished to improve his lines. After finishing “Jade Dynasty I”, Xiao Zhan proactively went to Yang Xu for a few classes.

The airing “The Untamed” in this summer made many viewers notice the actor Xiao Zhan.

In the “Bloodbath at Nevernight City” in episode 32, Wei Wuxian stood on top of a roof, facing off the accusations from all of the sects, crying and laughing, unable to explain himself. In this part, the Yiling Patriarch’s rage was at his max, and it was Xiao Zhan’s golden moment of his acting abilities, and many drama fans were surprised to find out that the filming of that scene was done in the same day as another scene – that day’s morning was the filming of youth Wei Wuxian in the library, and at night he immediately went into the condition of the Yiling Patriarch dying in Nevernight City.

We asked him how he could film such extreme conditions within the same day, Xiao Zhan confessed that he himself did not know, “I saw some gifs and clips, if I had to suddenly redo this scene, I don’t think I can outperform that me then, I guess that time it was the accumulation of time and condition, maybe that period of time I had already blended into the role.”

Stage photographs from “The Untamed”, Wei Wuxian at Nevernight City and the Library

Drama fans attributed this to Xiao Zhan’s “self-sacrificing styled acting” performance method, in the drama, Wei Wuxian depended on someone to use the “self-sacrificing curse” 16 years later to resurrect – this “self-sacrifice” meant that Xiao Zhan gave himself entirely to the role of Wei Wuxian.

To Yang Xu, Xiao Zhan’s instinctive acting method, where he became the role, actually came from this “sincerity”, and this was where the advantage of Xiao Zhan as an actor lied.

“Xiao Zhan is a very sincere person, I spoke to him then that sincerity is a very important quality in an actor. This sincerity meant that he could 100% give away himself, he was the same when he was taking classes with me. Because when we were practicing, he also needed to share some of his privacy or live experiences, he would share them very sincerely.”

Stage photograph from “The Untamed”, Xiao Zhan as Wei Wuxian

Yang Xu felt that the introvert and quiet Doctor Gu from “The Oath of Love” was more like Xiao Zhan in his everyday life. But Xiao Zhan felt nervous about this role having similarities with his own character, because he felt that he had not acted in any contemporary dramas. Before filming started, he constantly asked Yang Xu about the differences between contemporary dramas and period dramas, whether he was to portray life as more at will compared to period dramas.

Yang Xu told him, at its core they are acting out human emotions, therefore he must truly experience the life of this character, and then build a realistic communication with his partner.

“Yang Zi is a more quick-witted actress, her performances are very varied, if at this time Xiao Zhan wasn’t about to build enough communication with Yang Zi, or not focused enough, then the two of them might not be able to match up. But what’s good is that Xiao Zhan is very sincere, and he could receive Yang Zi’s performance, and then reply with his layered emotions. I was on set watching a few of their scenes, I personally feel that Xiao Zhan did very well.”

From “Jade Dynasty I” to “The Oath of Love”, Yang Xu saw the growth of Xiao Zhan within this half year. During the process of working with Yang Zi, Xiao Zhan became willing to try more variations, willing to breakthrough his fixed style of acting, and look for changes in every scene and every line.

“He is very concerned about how he crafts every single character, he has his own expectations of his performance and profession, he will never be satisfied with his results and what he has attained in performance. He will forever be seeking, and with this seeking, he will have motivation to learn and grow. And he is very talented, I always tell him, you definitely can become a good actor.”

“The Oath of Love” Character Poster

04

We reverse the time back to early 2017, Xiao Zhan has just joined the filming of “Battle Through the Heaven”, as the minor role Lin Xiuya.

Then, Xiao Zhan had just entered the entertainment industry for barely a year, and acted in a web drama that he jokingly called it his “dark history” later on.

During the performance classes before the filming of “Battle Through the Heaven”, Xiao Zhan stood out from all the newcomers, not only because of his outstanding looks, but also because he was well-mannered and polite, very hardworking during the filming, and left a great impression on the staff.

“Battle Through the Heaven” was filmed throughout the Chinese New Year period of 2017, the new actors did not go home, and one of the seniors in the crew was talking to them, telling them that as a singer in China, their career progression might be more limited, and they should go down the path of acting, but the path of acting is a path of no return, they could only move forward and not backwards, therefore you will need to put in everything for it.

Stage photograph from “Battle Through the Heaven” Season 1, Xiao Zhan as Lin Xiuya

Born in 1991, Xiao Zhan was the representative of “over-aged commoner pursuing an entertainment business dream”, he only started to learn dancing at the age of 24, debuting as a part of a boy group. That spring, the 26 year old took in what the senior said, and started to consider the possibility of changing his career path.

At that time, Xiao Zhan was not confident, he felt that he came from an idol group background, and he was not sure if he could become an actor. But one of the strengths of Xiao Zhan was that he would not consider whether he could or not, instead, he would “choose, I just want to do it well, do it first, we’ll see the results later”.

Just like him starting to learn dancing with no foundations, but he saw effects after a month; during the idol competition his mentor Shu Qi suggested that he train his gaze, and a few weeks later he started to shed off the commoner in his gaze; in the transformation to become an actor, the senior encouraged him to lose weight first, and come to the set of “The Wolf” 3 months later, he really lost 10lbs.

“The Wolf” was Xiao Zhan’s entry work, followed through the entire drama as a part of the lead actors, and gained an acting quality improvement from 0 points to 50 points. A member of the staff revealed that hotels with better conditions were further away from the set, and in order to leave more time to acting, Xiao Zhan took the initiative to pick a hotel that was near the set despite it having worse conditions.

Stage photograph from “The Wolf”, Xiao Zhan as Ji Chong 

During the filming period of “Battle Through the Heaven” and “The Wolf”, transforming from a singer to an actor facing cameras, that sensation once caused Xiao Zhan to lose the sense of himself, unsure how he could let the audiences believe that he was that role. During the filming of “The Untamed”, Xiao Zhan was still not confident enough, compared to the newcomers around him that came from acting schools, Xiao Zhan did not have any advantages.

“My thoughts and intentions had always been very simple, that is I want to do it well,” Xiao Zhan said, during the filming of “The Wolf”, he filmed in the day and took classes at night, writing his acting analysis in the late night, he also broke down once or twice, writing them while crying, but eventually he persisted.

The seed of stubbornness and refusal to admit defeat is deeply rooted in Xiao Zhan’s body, as a child he would go to Shaoniangong every weekend to learn drawing, and nothing would keep him from it, because that was something he wanted to do from his heart; when competing in the idol competition, facing many teammates who were from music academies, he thought to himself that “if you could do it, then I could do it too, and I’ll do it even better”; when filming, he believed that viewers would not be concerned whether he came from an acting background, but the most direct answer would be whether he acted well or not.

“The Untamed” finally brought the actor Xiao Zhan to everyone’s notice.

That summer, he became the entertainment business’s new top traffic power, his supertopic firmly in the top three, all kinds of gossip forums had posts about him, and “Jade Dynasty I” also showcased his appeal.

Stage photograph from “The Untamed”, Xiao Zhan as Wei Wuxian 

Why was he able to receive so much love this summer?

There were many within the entertainment circle that looked well upon Xiao Zhan, two of them could provide answers or a type of assessment:

“Xiao Zhan used his acting abilities to conquer me”; “I see the shadow of every worker on him, he carries the hopes and dreams of every man pursuing a dream.”

There was a microblog titled “Recording Xiao Zhan’s every man moments” that obtained 330 thousand likes, and within it, fans shared many little stories about him.

For example, after living for 28 years, Xiao Zhan’s most prideful moment was to have his logo sell well as a designer; the backgrounds of his group’s concerts and the web drama’s slides were all drawn by him; his mobile phone home screen was the God of Fortune, like every person who hoped for a sudden windfall.

One part was the recognition of his working capabilities; the other part, the Xiao Zhan, who became a designer after graduation and went through a year of working life before pursuing his “entertainment business dream”, was indeed very different from the idols that were cultivated from the idol machine, he came with common sense and life experiences, his past was definitely able to resonate with every man.

Xiao Zhan 

05

A fan once sent this microblog – Xiao Zhan’s temperament is so good, perhaps it’s because he had been honed by his clients. Xiao Zhan himself replied her with a meme: “What do you mean?”

The experience as a contractor, plus always facing people with a smile, everyone’s first impression of Xiao Zhan was that he was a gentle person with a good temperament.

Xiao Zhan always habitually considered others’ feelings first.

Staff Xiaofan revealed that the previous assistant was not capable enough, made a lot of mistakes, but Xiao Zhan never lost his temper at him.

Yang Xu accompanied Xiao Zhan every morning in the make up room for script reading, there was once Xiao Zhan had insomnia the night before and was in a bad shape, he took the initiative to apologize to the teacher, “That day I could feel that he was actually very tired, but he still tried his best to maintain his condition to discuss his role with me, later on he came to me and said, teacher I’m sorry, my condition was bad in the morning, you took still so much effort to explain the role to me, I feel quite bad, you can come slightly later, otherwise you’ll feel bad looking at my current state. I was very touched then, I said you just rest well and don’t worry about me.”

In the idol competition, someone once questioned Xiao Zhan’s character as passive and unenthusiastic. To Xiaofan, this is because “he is always humble and polite to people he doesn’t know well, and he’ll treat everyone with a sense of propriety.”

A reporter once asked Xiao Zhan if he was a Mr. Nice Guy. Xiao Zhan replied, “I feel that those who feel like this are probably acquaintances. People who know me very well will know that I’m actually quite stubborn and quite strong-headed.”

Xiao Zhan 

Xiao Zhan said, he did not like to make the atmosphere uncomfortable, he hoped that everyone could all be harmonious.

But in the “Secret Garden”, Xiao Zhan will unexpectedly shed off this shell of warm smiles and display the tenacious edge in his heart.

Xiao Zhan had a microblog that held the heartfelt words between he and his fans, and some words Xiao Zhan would quietly post in the comments, and those who care for him would always see it.

Last year after “The Untamed” started filming, there were those who believed that he would rise to fame very quickly, but there were also those who mocked him for “being famous on credit”, Xiao Zhan, who had a nickname “Brother Wealthy”, quietly posted a comment on the sentiments then, “I have money, I don’t go on credit.”

In his daily life, Xiao Zhan does not like to cry, he said he has given all of his tears to his characters. Once in a while, everyone can also see that soft Xiao Zhan coming out of his protective shell. Last year during the Hangzhou concert, he looked at the hall full of his fans’ support, singing the song, “Satisfaction”, that his fans fought for him, he tried to keep in his tears.

After bursting to fame, whether Xiao Zhan will continue to display his strong or soft moments, we would not know, but Xiaofan revealed that the staff do not control Xiao Zhan’s microblog postings, the “Secret Garden” continues to be his method of communicating with his fans.

But we can be certain that Xiao Zhan is slowly learning and adjusting to the rules of the entertainment business, becoming more careful, he will sometimes tell his staff, “We need to be more careful than before.”

Xiao Zhan’s Mid Autumn greetings 

06

The night after the premiere of “Jade Dynasty I”, Xiao Zhan secretly went to record a program at CCTV. That night at 8.30pm, word from the scalpers circle came out, “Xiao Zhan’s activity, those who can come to the area near the world trade center message me! Limited seats! Hurry!”

Later on, there were a lot of fans gathering at the north entrance of CCTV, and until late night at 11pm, there were still large groups of fans quietly waiting. Xiao Zhan and his staff would sometimes wonder, when would days like this ever end, but they also understood that this is an anomaly, things would slowly stabilize after a few months, and the future still depended on his works.

After completing the filming of “The Oath of Love”, Xiao Zhan will go through a period of rest and adjustment, and enter filming again at the start of next year.

“What worried him previously what that he didn’t know where his opportunities were, didn’t know which path he should take; now of course he’s firmly decided on being a good actor,” Xiaofan revealed.

Xiao Zhan at the premiere press conference of “Jade Dynasty I” 

His vlogs since his debut, until yesterday when he spoke to everyone online, Xiao Zhan always started with “I am still Xiao Zhan”.

After rising to fame, Xiao Zhan told himself that he needed to work harder in his life, and work hard to remind himself to stay common and still be that very initial Xiao Zhan.

However, no one would be able to foresee the possibilities of Xiao Zhan in his career, “No one restricted that I have to be this type of Xiao Zhan my whole life,” since he is someone who likes to stay on his feet, and very willing to try and change.

Entering this cruel entertainment business, Xiao Zhan still continues to be a honorable working class, lying on his sofa after knocking off; traffic comes and goes, he tells himself that he should not compare with anyone else, he should only compete against himself, and be a long distance runner.

Only passion and sincerity can withstand the long and slow passage of time.

Xiao Zhan looking at that year’s fireworks

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Hi y'all!

So I realized today that it's been about three months since I started cross-posting my stuff to ao3 (those of y'all who were here for After Each Midnight while it was still a wip will know that I've been writing for longer than that but anyway). With the latest fic I just posted, I now have 30 works published to ao3 within those three months! Which is wild to me!

Since that averages out to ten fics a month and I like round numbers, I decided to celebrate by listing my 10 favorite fics...of my own lol. Narcissistic? Maybe! But it's fun anyway!

This is a really long post as each rec includes a summary, an excerpt (or a few), and some personal notes/anecdotes about the writing process or what inspired me to write the fic, etc. so I'm putting it all under the break. If this doesn't sound like your cup of tea then of course please just skip over this one, but for anyone who wants to revisit some of my older works with me, or if you're curious about which fics I personally like the most, or if you want to talk about your favorite fics of mine in the replies or anything, then that's cool too! I just wanted to find a way to mark this down because it feels like something of an achievement ^_^

Thank you!

1. After Each Midnight Begins A New Day, (54,401 words, Rated E) Ship(s): 3zun, Wangxian Summary: When Lan Xichen wakes up the morning after the fifth anniversary of his life crumbling to rubble around him in Guanyin Temple, he's shocked to find both Nie Mingjue and Meng Yao in his bed, both whole and alive and...married to him?! (A time travel fix-it in which the time traveling and fixing of things has already been done by Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian, and Lan Xichen accidentally gets dragged along for the happily ever after.) Excerpt(s):

1. “Poor da-ge,” [Meng Yao] teases again, this time with a bit of an edge, and Lan Xichen cracks one eye open just enough to see him stripping first out of his shoes and socks, then his third layer of robes, then his second, until he’s dressed much as he had been the prior evening - in nothing but a black under-robe so sheer that it actually almost looks gray. It clings to all the petite, lithe curves of him and the sight makes Lan Xichen’s mouth practically water. “What if I want my turn with you now? What if I’m jealous that er-ge got to have you all to himself for hours , while your poor A-Yao had to go have a drink with Xian-didi just to pass the time.” “Oh gods you’re a beast too,” Nie Mingjue groans as Meng Yao slips on top of him gracefully to lean down and pepper kisses up and down his neck and shoulder. “Get off of me, foul creature. Go tempt our husband, I’m temporarily immune to your wiles.” “You’re never immune to my wiles, da-ge, and er-ge is meditating oh so diligently. He’s certainly not smiling and watching us through his lashes as if we’re not well aware of his tricks and what he likes to watch.” - 2. “It took years of practice, you with your painting and I with my answering, but when you were a teenager I finally decided on the best advice I could think to give you: Do not seek for every answer in this life all at once, Xichen,” he instructs with a smile as he returns to painting. “Let them come to you gently and in their season, and trust that all will be as it should in the end.” Lan Xichen takes another breath and returns to his painting with a slightly trembling hand - a trembling that ends up creating a lovely branch on the tree he is painting that, when he turns his head to look, is modeled almost exactly after the one growing in the garden behind the Gentian House, just beyond the window. “I don’t remember ever seeing this tree,” he whispers and Qingheng-Jun hums across from him in clear understanding. “And yet it flows from your brush all the same. Now we can all know that you have nothing to fear, your memories will also come to you in their season. Until then, allow yourself to rest, and remember that you have the support of your family whenever you need it.” “Yes, father,” he replies with a whisper and a tremulous smile, feeling lighter than he has in days. - 3. “I will go into seclusion.” The statement is a stone dropped into the gently rippling water of a spring-fed pool. The stone is jagged and pitted with all that the world has done to chip away at it, to make it rough and painful to the touch. It is sharp in his hands, heavy with all the hurts he still carries in his chest, all the grief he has no more room to hold. He feels lighter with it out of his grasp, the words settling into the ensuing silence with some bittersweet relief.

Notes: I know I've said it before but it bears repeating: this entire fic exists solely because of the smut scene in chapter 1. I thought of the smut first, and then the lead-in to it, and I intentionally left the end of chapter 1 ambiguous - it could have ended right there as an angsty one-shot with Lan Xichen believing that it was all a hallucination, and there's nothing really in the text to say that it's not because Lan Xichen is a very unreliable narrator in this fic. But then I wanted to write the backstory for the smut if, in fact, it wasn't a hallucination - and everything kind of...butterfly-effected out from there to become what it is now, along with all the extras in the series that's now roughly 120k long altogether and still not finished. Oops. Oh and also: this fic that started the ball rolling only exists because for some reason the servers for Omegle went down for months where I live, and prior to that I used to spend hours rp'ing. Without that creative outlet, I filled the vacuum with writing fic instead and now here we are. So if you're grateful for my fics then thank Omegle for sucking for a few months lol --//-- 2. Loving, Loud, Wild, and Theirs (7386 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Xuanli & Gen (kidfic), 3zun (briefly) - an extra for AEM Summary: A brief look at how in this kinder world, Jin Zixuan managed to find and legitimize his three siblings as well as a snapshot of the chaos of love and fun that is his family with his siblings, his beloved wife, and their seven children. Excerpt:

He had listened to [Madam Qin] and her handmaid, and he had believed them, and he had been unsurprised to find himself thinking quite uncharitably of his father following his promise to Madam Qin that he would do everything in his power to make it right, as much as he could. [Jin Zixuan and Meng Yao] return to Jinlintai the day after the next, once their business is concluded. He’s relieved when nothing needs his immediate attention as it means he’s free to retreat into his and Jiang Yanli’s quarters so he can tell her everything that’s weighing on his mind. “No more surprise siblings from now on,” he sighs into the comfort of Jiang Yanli's chest when he’s finished outlining what has happened and his plans to prepare a new suite of rooms in the family wing of the tower. For Qin Su. His sister. Jiang Yanli just laughs her tinkling laugh and kisses him, her hands gentle as she combs his hair back from his face with her fingertips. “You’ve got more siblings now than any of the rest of us,” she teases with a mischievous smile down at him that is a bit too reminiscent of, weirdly, both Wei Wuxian and Mo Xuanyu for comfort. “Two brothers, a sister, and of course we must keep Mianmian in her spot on the list. If you would like to count brothers-in-law as well you’ve also got A-Xian, A-Cheng, Huaisang, Wangji, Xichen, and Mingjue...” He groans and hides his face properly in the soft silk of her robes even as she laughs again over his head.

Notes: This fic is actually a request fill for someone and I had some trouble ending it because there's a lot more I want to write with this wild family, though I did eventually find what felt like a good place to cut it off with 3zun arriving in Jinlintai for the visit they leave for at the end of AEM. There is something of a follow-up floating around my wips that - if it ever gets written - is a direct sequel to AEM that continues where this extra leaves off, with 3zun getting to spend time with their hoard of niblings in Jinlintai. No promises about if/when that will get written though. --//-- 3. Performance Art (8106 words, Rated M) Ships: 3zun, Wangxian (briefly) Summary: A Modern AU inspired by the 'Hysterical Literature' performance art project. Lan Xichen, Nie Mingjue, and Meng Yao take turns doing their best to read aloud from chosen written works as they're filmed. The twist is that they're trying to do so as they're being pleasured with a vibrator controlled by one of their partners off-camera, each of their turns ending when the partner being filmed/played with has an orgasm. Excerpt(s):

1. “Engage people with what they expect; it is..- it…it is what they are able to discern and.. ngh.. confirms their projections. It settles.. ah settles them into predictable-“ He cuts off suddenly to set the book down flat and slap one hand down sharply on the tabletop. Meng Yao simply clicks another button and Nie Mingjue groans as his newly unoccupied hand twitches back to rest on the edge of the table closer to himself, as if about to drop down beneath it. Lan Xichen and Meng Yao both shift forward in their seats but Nie Mingjue catches himself before they have to intervene, returning his hand to the middle of the table and forcing a deep breath into his lungs so he can continue. “-Predictable patterns of..of response, occupying their minds while you w-wait for the ex- extra-“ he huffs out a sharp breath and curls his hand into a fist as he tilts forward and forces out the rest of the sentence in a rush. “Extraordinary moment — that whichtheycannotanticipate. FUCK!” - 2. It’s a few hours of quiet, peaceful work later when Lan Wangji shifts his weight in the way that means he wants Wei Wuxian’s actual attention and not his ‘ I’m sculpting so I’m periodically looking at you ’ sort of attention which he is, of course, quick to grant. He pauses in his muttering half to himself and half to Lan Wangji to say, “Hm? What’s up Zhanzhan?” “From Xiongzhang,” he says by way of explanation, holding his phone out for Wei Wuxian to squint at the screen. It takes him a moment to understand what he’s looking at, his eyes needing a second to adjust to the small black and white video that’s playing after having spent hours looking between Lan Zhan and the clay form taking shape under his hands. “What is this?” he asks as he leans in closer and squints a little harder. He blinks and his eyes go wide in the next moment as he realizes what’s happening on the screen as the woman’s tension climaxes ( literally ) - and then it’s just a hop, skip, and a jump to figure out just why he’d been asked to create an eerily similar setup in his own studio the previous afternoon for three men he might as well consider his sort-of brothers at this point. His next exhale is a wheeze as his ears go hot and Lan Wangji is instantly shrugging into a robe to stand from his lounging position and approach, concern written all over his features. “Wei Ying?”

Notes: I don't really have too much to say about this one except that it brought me so much joy and laughter to write and it honestly kind of surprises me that it's one of my less popular fics - it's nothing but a fun, sexy time! But I'm also terrible at guessing trends/what people will want to see so that might be on me haha. Oh! Also - a minor thing but something I'm very mildly proud of: the narrator voice is dependent on who's behind the camera! I wanted a way to make the person filming feel just as involved as the other two and I thought that was a fun way to do it since within the narrative it's technically going to be their perspective used for the video they're recording. Just to give y'all a little insight into my decision-making when it comes to my writing style for this one. --//-- 4. Anything For My Nie-Zongzhu (6411 words, Rated E) Ship: NieYao - pre-canon (just barely) Summary: Meng Yao is Nie Mingjue's trusted right hand, intelligent and valued by his Sect Leader, at least, who has learned lately to appreciate him a hell of a lot in private too - and for much more personal matters than the minutiae of running the Nie Sect. Seeing as Nie Mingjue trusts him so much, he finds it in himself to ask for something new - for Meng Yao to top him. [Technically an extra for AEM but can be read as a standalone] Excerpt:

“Am I to play into this boorish act you’re putting on tonight?” he teases instead as he steps closer until he’s near enough to feel the way the steam from the bath has turned the air sticky and humid. Nie Mingjue finally looks up at him and Meng Yao is internally crowing with triumph as he watches the lines of tension around his eyes and mouth fall away, his expression smoothing into quiet contentment. He did that. His presence alone is enough to help Nie Mingjue relax. It feels nearly as good as the day the man had angrily defended him to his own disciples and promoted him on the spot. “It’s not an act, I’m plenty boorish,” Nie Mingjue gruffs, returning his gaze to the letter, but this close Meng Yao can actually watch his eyes do nothing but try to glare a hole through the center of the page. “Of course you are, Zongzhu,” Meng Yao allows, his tone openly humoring - as is the smile tightening the corners of his mouth. “Therefore I can only suppose that you would prefer it if I returned to my walk and left you to continue your...correspondence in peace.”

Notes: Once again not really many notes on this one! I just love NieYao, I think their dynamic during Meng Yao's Nie Sect days has so much potential and I love exploring it every so often. --//--

5. Bite The Hands That Feed (1590 words, Rated E) Ship: XiYao Summary: After being forced out of the Nie Sect, Meng Yao has to come to grips with the hunger that's been chasing him his whole life, and he finds temporary satisfaction over and over in Lan Xichen, who is always so generous with his time and his body and is willing to help him feel less empty even just for a night. Excerpt:

He would never bite the hands that feed him, that stuff him full enough to make him believe for a moment that he’s no longer starving. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t inflict pains. He bites and he scratches and he plants himself in the bloody furrows until flowering moans reward his violent care, until pleasure bursts sun-warmed and sweet between them, berries ripe for the picking. He stains his mouth red with them, his fingers purple with the bruises he paints so delicately on his devotee’s body. If Meng Yao is being clawed to a slow torturous death from within, then it stands to reason that his other half will be ripped to shreds from without. He keeps his nails sharp and his teeth bared to tear into his flesh and drink sweetly of the vintage he offers - sweat, spend, blood, saliva when their mouths meet for crushing kisses. All of it is his to consume. He puts his mouth to the feast of Lan Xichen’s body and eats until the hunger pangs are satiated, drinks until he feels dizzy with it.

Notes: So I wrote this one when I was getting a little tired of the straight narration style of all my other fics and I wanted to try my hand at something looser, a little more prose-like but also a little darker than my usual fluff. I'm not sure how successful I was - this is actually one of my absolute least popular fics, number-wise! - but it's one of my favorites anyway. --//-- 6. A Figure, A Mouth (2788 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A quiet, intimate evening spent in the comfort of the Four Seasons Mountain Manor sometime between their arrival/fixing up of the place and the confrontation with Ye Baiyi. Excerpt:

After a while of warming each other up Wen Kexing urges him back up to push the bed under the window just as he’d said he would. Zhou Zishu takes the opportunity to blow out the candles before he rejoins Wen Kexing in their bed, the sudden darkness leaving them free to admire each other clothed in nothing but broad swathes of cool, sweet blue light bisected by deep black lattices of shadow from the trees out in the yard, the shadows from the contours of the wall and decorations around the window blocking and revealing them in turns. Lao Wen is, of course, as beautiful like this as he has been in every way Zhou Zishu has ever seen him, and he takes the time to savor it, to indulge in the decadence that Wen Kexing presents for each of his remaining senses. He’s a feast for the eyes, all hard muscle and skin glistening with glittering diamonds of sweat along his shoulders and the soft curve of his cheek. He’s a symphony for the ears, breathless desire and tender calls of his name that Zhou Zishu never lets go unanswered when they’re like this. By now Wen Kexing is an expert at drawing pleasure from him in every unlikely way there is to make sure that the effects of the nails don’t keep him from reaching his peak at least once, occasionally more in spite of his fading sense of touch.

Notes: Wenzhou makes me so soft and emotional, y'all. The next one on the list is also a Wenzhou fic and I just can't seem to stop writing them in fluffy/smutty situations because it's what they deserve. I really don't have anything more interesting to say about this fic, I just love them haha. --//-- 7. Tease Him Just Enough (2537 words, Rated M) Ship: Wenzhou Summary: A possible outcome if the conversation post-face reveal in episode 6 had gone differently - i.e. if Zhou Zishu had called Wen Kexing out on all his flirting and challenged him to do something about it - and then he does. Excerpt:

They don’t need words to communicate that at least right here in this particular moment there’s no one else they would rather have in their arms, pressed up against their bodies, no one else’s tongue who would find a new home in each other’s mouths or any other body their hands would rather explore. Wen Kexing has already known that they’re fated, but for the first time it feels like they’re agreeing to be so. Even if it’s just for a night. (Not that he thinks it will be just one night for them, but getting Zhou Xu to agree to anything remotely of the kind is like trying to drag a stray back-alley cat into a bath so he’ll take what he can get.)

Notes: My first fic for Word of Honor! The whole time I was watching the show (read: obsessively binge-watching) I was like 'Okay I like this show a lot but it's not nearly as compelling as The Untamed, idk if I'll be motivated to write anything for it'. Then I got to the end and I was like NEVERMIND YES I AM. I played myself. --//-- 8. You Need Tending (12,108 words, Rated T) Ship(s): Lan Wangji & Wei Wuxian, Lan Wangji & Lan Xichen, Lan Qiren & The Jades & Wei Wuxian (this is a kidfic so nothing romantic!) Summary: Wei Wuxian is alone and homeless on the streets of Yunmeng, unaware of the presence of his parents' old friend so nearby. Lan Wangji is a child grieving for the loss of his mother in silence, overwhelmed by the world his uncle keeps dragging him out into. It takes their paths crossing more than once for Lan Qiren to realize just who Wei Wuxian is and that he needs their help, but he gets there eventually. Excerpt:

He watches on as the man comes to a stop next to the boys and squats down to check over the one who had been lost and suddenly he remembers lying on the ground and looking up at a stern-faced man with gentle hands and a ribbon across his forehead. The man who had given him medicine and bandages after a small boy had defended him from dogs, and an older boy had talked to him so kindly and helped him to sit up off the dirt. Wei Ying gasps as the memory hits and he scrambles back down off the roof, landing on the packed dirt of the space between the buildings with an oof, excitement bubbling in his chest. Along with the memory comes a name and it flies from his lips as he scrambles up off the ground to push his way into the crowd again. “Master Lan!” he shouts, his tiny voice lost in the din of the market. He tries to shove closer but the little family is already walking away, their backs to him as he strains against the flow of people much bigger and stronger than him. “Master Lan!” he tries again, desperation lending extra strength and emotion to his cry. Wei Ying stops struggling as he watches the two boys in white walk away, the pair of them flanking Master Lan in his sky blue robes as they move through the market, radiating serenity in the midst of the chaos. His vision blurs and he scrubs his forearm against his eyes angrily to dry them, trying to keep the three of them in his sight for as long as he can just in case they turn around and spot him. Just in case they remember him and maybe want to tell him to come with them.

Notes: Baby Wei Ying T-T He just hits me right in the heart, and so does baby Lan Zhan! And baby Lan Xichen. All the babies. This fic was actually completely inspired by an utterly adorable fanart of Lan Xichen giving a grumpy baby A-Zhan a piggyback ride! I'd been wanting to write a kidfic type fix-it for a while and that art was the spark I needed to come up with something workable. (Edit: here’s my reblog of the art I’m talking about!) --//--

9. Familial Circumstances (5393 words, Rated G)

Ship(s): Lan Qiren & Original Characters, Lan Qiren & Jin Zixuan, Lan Qiren & Qin Su, Lan Qiren & Mo Xuanyu - An extra for AEM

Summary: Another kidfic extra for the horde of children in Jinlintai, this time as seen through the lens of their beloved Great Uncle Lan. It's a simple relationship-study-type look at how all the children love their Great Uncle and how much he loves and treasures them in return.

Excerpt:

An unusual stillness accompanies [Jin Ruhai's] playing. Jin Lu stops fidgeting with her fingers, the twins slip into the perfect stillness of those who are utterly aware of themselves at all times - a trait [Lan Qiren has] noticed in every skilled fighter he’s ever come across - and even Jin Ye relaxes, slumping further and further backwards until she’s slouched down against his stomach, legs dangling over his crossed shins.

The piece isn’t a terribly long one, nor as complex as the next score Lan Qiren intends to teach the boy, but Jin Ruhai’s mastery of it is impressive. Again, Lan Qiren is forcefully reminded of Lan Wangji, always most at peace when behind his instrument to play with and/or for the people he loves.

There’s silence in the room until the last note fades with a shiver into the air and Jin Ruhai pulls his hands back from the instrument. The stillness lasts for one more moment before it’s interrupted by Jin Lu sneezing suddenly and her siblings laugh as the quiet breaks.

“I had to hold that in the whole time !!” Jin Lu laughs as she rubs her sleeve under her nose, one eye screwed shut as she giggles. “I didn’t want to mess up A-Zhuang’s song, it’s so pretty!”

Notes: I'm definitely biased because they're all my oc's except for Jin Ling, but I genuinely love all of the Jin children in the AEM AU. If anyone is ever interested in knowing more about their individual personalities and the like please don't hesitate to ask me, I've actually put quite a bit of thought into all 6 of the kids I created wholecloth and I have a lot of feelings about Jin Ling getting the chaotic siblings and loving parents he was robbed of.

--//--

10. Opportunities To Practice (5710 words, Rated M) (*WIP)

Ship: Xuanli - An extra for AEM

Summary: Jin Zixuan is nervous for his..marital activities with Jiang Yanli - after all, who could he possibly ask for advice? His father? No thank you. Thankfully Jiang Yanli is sweet and patient and knows her husband well - he just needs a bit of time and he'll get it figured out.

Excerpt:

She shivers with an interesting combination of want and intense vulnerability as she stands there, feeling bare in spite of her remaining layer. It’s of a material so sheer as to be practically nonexistent, nothing more than a delicate veil of a red so pale it’s nearly pink that sits on her body like a second skin. Until it falls gently away at the knee to flutter around her ankles, it clings to every curve, every contour, and as she watches Jin Zixuan doesn’t even bother to hang the robe he had just removed on the screen. He lets it drop into a soft pool around her bare feet, his gaze roaming her newly exposed figure - she would perhaps feel strange about it did he not look so devoted , so in awe of seeing her practically naked in front of him.

Yanli gasps softly as he suddenly drops to his knees at her feet and oh - that’s heady. Her body, which she hasn’t really thought of too much in the past beyond the occasional irritation that it’s weaker than she would prefer, has put the man she loves on his knees. He’s looking up at her now, his eyes wide and his hands reverent as he raises them to rest on her thighs, thumbs caressing her too-warm skin through the barely-there robe that bunches up softly under the pressure of his grip.

“You’re right,” he finally breathes, sounding slightly strained. “I’d like this to stay on. If that’s - are you alright?”

“I am,” she reassures.

Notes: This last fic is technically a wip, the only one in the list! However! - it's going to be a collection of one-shots centered around Xuanli and their sexual exploits that lead to their seven children, and possibly also the ones that are just for fun (horny Yanli rights forever). It's not currently high on my list of priorities or anything and the one chapter that's up so far can stand on its own so it's a wip but it's not? I just love Xuanli so much and I want to explore their relationship in my happy fix-it AU whenever the mood strikes, and whenever that happens this is where those one-shots will go.

--//--

And that's it! My personal top 10 favorite fics of my own as of right now. I thought about doing my top 10 according to statistics like hit counts or kudos, but I genuinely love some of these unpopular fics and I wanted to give them some love and attention even if it's just for me. I know there's a lot here to sift through but if any of y'all enjoyed the list or any of the specific fics on it let me know! I liked taking this little pause to take a look at what I've actually been producing these last few months.

Thanks for reading!

[woah-were-halfway-there]

The Sweetest of Them All

A/N: just another little bonus part of the AFTR universe that I came up with out of nowhere. Also, I left this as third person instead of second. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.2k

Y/N has never been a big fan of Valentine's Day.

To her, it was overrated and expensive. But, she'd be lying if she said she didn't love the fact that it gave an extra reason to love on Auston a ridiculous amount. Sure, she did that every day, but to be fair, she loved how the title of Valentine's Day added a bit more fun and excitement to something she'd normally do any other day. It felt different for some reason, so even though she didn't love the so-called holiday, she still tried to plan something special for it every year.

Admittedly, she and Auston almost got competitive about it with trying to one-up the other with affection. They didn't care about gifts. They cared about the time they spent together and the thoughtfulness behind it.

Usually, it was Y/N that came up with something ridiculously sweet for Valentine's Day to do for Auston. However, this year, he had her beat.

For some odd reason, Y/N woke up very early that day. Maybe it was the baby waking her, or perhaps it was her internal clock saying sleep was no longer necessary. But, regardless, she was awake much earlier than usual. She also knew Mia wasn't awake or else she would've heard her, so she took that time to lie back in bed and relax for a few minutes on her own.

The bed felt incredibly empty, given that Auston was with the Leafs in Washington and wasn't expected to be back in Toronto until late that night. Frank was a good cuddle buddy alternative, but sometimes the Goldendoodle just wasn't enough when Y/N was missing her man. Of course, this was one of the days when she missed him a lot, so she took that as an excuse to text Auston and at least get this so-called holiday kicked off.

Y/N Happy Valentine's Day, Aus 🥰 can't wait to see you tonight

She wasn't expecting him to message back right away, seeing as it was only 7:30 in the morning, but much to her surprise, he did.

Auston Happy Valentine's Day, babe 💕 Can't wait to see you either. Did the flowers for Mia get delivered?

Y/N Yes, they got here last night. They're beautiful. I set them on the kitchen counter, so once she's awake and we go downstairs, she'll see her little V-Day gift from you

Auston Perfect. I got part of your Valentine's thing with me right now too. Ready for it?

Y/N Is it going to make me cry?

Auston Probably

Y/N Great. Hit me with your best shot

She stared at her phone screen for a moment, expecting it to light up with the notification of an incoming FaceTime call from her husband or a picture, but instead, he sent her a link. But not just any link, it was the link to the video recording of a new Spittin' Chiclets podcast episode that was over an hour-long called 'Love Day: Part One.'

Confused, but also insanely curious, Y/N then leaned over to grab her laptop from the bedside table and got into the most comfortable position her growing baby bump would allow so she could watch the video like that. As soon as she was about to press play, her phone buzzed with another text.

Auston This was filmed a couple of weeks ago when the Chiclets guys were in Toronto. They interviewed at least 10 different guys in the league at different times, and they're kind of long, which is why there's more than one part. Just watch the intro, then I'm the first interview. Mitch is on part 2 if you want to watch that as well, but yeah... call me when you're done 💕

Still unsure of how to process what was going on, Y/N just shook her head and followed the link.

The video started with Biz, Whit and Rear sat all-around a table, each wearing a different red, white or pink shirt with heart-shaped balloons positioned behind them. Empty bottles of Pink Whitney sat on the table, acting as vases for bouquets of roses, making Y/N roll her eyes and chuckle at how far these guys would go for good product placement. But, she kept watching, and unsurprisingly, Biz was the first to speak.

Biz: "For Valentines Day this year, we wanted to do something different. Something more soft. So, we're going to tell, well, I guess, show some love stories."

Whit: "Bet you all didn't know that some of the greatest love stories to ever be told have happened to some of the guys that play in the NHL. Don't believe me? Guess you'll have to listen to find out what they are."

Rear: "We asked some players to come in and talk to us about their relationship stories and give as many details as they were willing to give. And let me tell you, they were great. To start us off, we have Auston Matthews of the Toronto Maple Leafs telling us his fairytale romance."

The video then clipped to a shot of Biz sitting next to Auston in what Y/N assumed was the hotel downtown that the Chiclets guys were staying at. Auston wasn't dressed extravagantly or anything, just wore a grey hoodie, black pants, and his signature Raiders snapback.

Y/N immediately recognized his outfit. She remembered Auston coming home in those same clothes early one afternoon after he did some running around downtown with Mia, and started thinking of how not once did he mention doing anything for the podcast. He kept this very on the down low, and Y/N was excited to see how it would all play out.

Biz: "Alright, with us today, we have none other than the Leafs number 34, Auston Matthews. Welcome back to the show, Auston. How ya doin?"

Auston: "I'm great. Thanks for having me. How are you guys?"

Whit and Rear: "Good."

Biz: "Great, real good. Now, Auston, you know what you're here to talk about, right?"

Auston: (chuckling) "You're acting like you didn't spend the last week blowing up my phone until I agreed to do this."

Biz: "Amazing! You do know. So, here's how it's all going to go down. We've got a list of questions about your relationship with your significant other. Your obvious better half. And are going to take turns asking them so the people listening at home can get a bit of insight on your, and I quote, iconic love story. Why don't you give us a little summary of your relationship before we dive in?"

Auston: (hesitantly) "Sure, okay. So, my wife Y/N and I have been married for almost two years now. Our anniversary is at the end of July. She accidentally forgot it last year, which I haven't let her live down. Y/N, babe, this is your six month in advance warning that our anniversary is indeed coming up again this year… She's going to hate that I mentioned that. We, uh, we've been together since my first season in Toronto, so for a pretty long time now, and it's been amazing. We have a daughter, Amelia, but everyone just calls her Mia unless she's in trouble. She just turned two on January 25th, and we have our second baby on the way. They're due to be making their grand appearance in late June. We also have our firstborn, Frank, the Goldendoodle. Can't forget about him. But, yeah, that's my little family."

Whit: (nodding along with Biz and Rear) "Fair enough. Now, how and when did you and Y/N meet exactly?"

Auston: "We met on the night of my first NHL game back in 2016. She was at that game."

Biz: "Oh, yeah? Was she there for a reason?"

Auston gave him an unimpressed look.

Biz: "What?"

Auston: "You know why she was there!"

Biz: (shrugging) "Our listeners don't. C'mon, refresh my memory. Was she there to cheer someone else on?"

Auston: (shaking his head) "Yeah. She, uh, she's a cousin of one of my teammates, so she was there with their family to watch him during our first game."

Biz: (grinning widely) "What teammate?"

Auston: "The one out in the hallway keeping my daughter occupied while you keep being annoying and asking me questions you already know the answer to."

Everyone laughed at that, including Y/N, as she shifted onto her side, being mindful of her growing bump that seemingly became more noticeable each day, and got comfortable as she braced herself for what the rest of this interview would entail.

Biz: (still laughing): "Just to clarify for everyone who still doesn't know, he's talking about Mitch Marner."

Auston: "Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

Rear: "I take it that Mitch and Mia get along really well? I haven't heard a peep from her since you came in here."

Auston: "Oh, she loves him. Yeah, that's her Mitchy, alright. Him and Steph, who you will hear all about once Mitch comes in here, are Mia's godparents and some of her favourite people."

Whit: "That's awesome. And how was that at first, though, being romantically involved with one of your teammates' family members? Sounds like grounds for some chaos, if I'm honest."

Auston: "It sure made meeting the family a bit more nerve-wracking. I'm just kidding. No, it was fine. It was definitely a little awkward at first trying to figure out how I was going to tell Mitch that I wanted to date his cousin. Like, he and Y/N are very close. Always have been. And the last thing both me and Y/N wanted was for Mitch to be uncomfortable. He did handle it really well, though. It's because of him I was even able to get to know her in the first place, which I'll never be able to thank him enough for."

Rear: "Now, you're a pretty private guy. You post the odd picture of your little family from time to time. Y/N is rather private, as well. So, really, no one knows your guys' story other than those who have lived it with you or watched it unfold. I'm sure many people will jump right on the chance to listen to this, seeing as you and Y/N are one of the most beloved couples in the NHL. But, what exactly made you want to come on here, give a bit of insight into your private life, and talk about it all?"

Auston: "Well, for one, Biz would not stop asking me to do it. Literally kept calling and texting me for days until I finally agreed."

Whit: "Shocker."

Biz: "Hey, now."

Auston: (chuckling) "That and also I figured, why not. I love my wife, and I love our little story. It's nice to think back on everything that's happened and see how it all got us to where we are now. With all the ups and the downs, its uh, it's been an amazing ride for sure, and I wouldn't change it for a thing. Also, it's for Valentine's Day. I haven't told her I'm doing this, so when you guys drop the episode, I'm just going to send it to her without much context."

Whit: "Do you think she'll cry?"

Auston: "Absolutely. I know this kind of thing would make her tear up regularly, but those pregnancy hormones have got her bad. Without a doubt, she's going to call me crying once she's done watching this."

Y/N scoffed as he said that and grabbed some tissues to wipe away the waterworks she already felt coming on.

Biz: "I've met Y/N many times now. The first time being back in what, 2018?"

The screen then showed an old picture of Biz sitting in a restaurant with his arm wrapped around Y/N's shoulders, both smiling widely as they held up their drinks, with Auston seemingly moping off to the side a little bit. Y/N chuckled at the image, instantly thinking back to the day she first met Paul Bissonnette and how wild it was before the photo faded away and showed the guys again.

Biz: "Yeah, it was when she was in Scottsdale visiting you during the summer. Great girl, completely out of Auston's league."

Auston: "Hey!"

Biz: "I'll never forget you sassing her when she commented on how hot Arizona was, with her being Canadian and all, but damn she was fast putting you in your place by calling you a, what was it?"

Auston: (grumbling) "Desert Boy."

Everyone burst out laughing again, except Auston, who just rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

Auston: "Whatever. She sasses me all the time when I complain about the snow, but the one time I do it back, I get called a Desert Boy and can never live it down."

Biz: (still laughing) "Ugh, amazing. Okay, moving on because we don't have much time and can probably fit in like two more questions. So, Auston, tell us how you knew that Y/N was the end game for you. How did you know that she was the one?"

Auston: "Oh, man. I don't even know how to explain it. Growing up, you see all these movies and shows, or read books where people always find someone who is their soulmate. Their perfect match. And I never knew what the feeling of finding that person was because I had never experienced it. My mom would tell me that when I did find that person, I'd know. That it'll be such an intense feeling, and to be honest, I didn't believe her. Until I met Y/N, I know that sounds cheesy, but it's true. The first time I met her, something drew me in, and I knew I wanted to get to know her better right away. Mitch spoke so highly of her, so did the other guys on the team that had already met her and over the first couple of months of us knowing each other, I saw what they meant. She quickly became one of my best friends ever. When we started dating, I saw more of how good a person she is, which attracted me even more. She is so selfless and caring for everyone around her; it truly blows my mind. I had never seen my family welcome a girl I introduced them to as quickly as they did her, and I trust their judgment the most. But even if they didn't do that, I know they would have accepted her regardless because, honestly, I probably seemed like a lovesick idiot. I still do. Y/N became this significant light in my life that I knew I wanted to be there forever. I began thinking about what it'd be like spending the rest of my life with her. Then it became something that I knew I needed. I can't imagine my life without her, and I never want to. She makes me so happy and has given me more than I could ever thank her for. I'll never understand how I, of all people, was the one to capture her massive heart, but I do know how lucky I am."

As he spoke, the screen showed a little picture slideshow of Y/N and Auston over the years of their relationship. It started with one that Ema took the first time Y/N had ever gone to Scottsdale. Y/N was sitting on the edge of a pool, and her legs dipped into the water. Auston stood between them as he wrapped his arms around her middle and leaned against her while looking over at where Ema stood taking the picture. The next one was from a Christmas party where the two were under a mistletoe as Auston leaned Y/N back and was kissing her cheek as she laughed and held onto him for dear life. There was a picture of them with Auston's family, one of them with Mitch and Steph, and another of Auston with his arms around Nate and Mya, Y/N's younger brother and sister, as the three smiled at the camera and Y/N was in the background looking confused.

The last few pictures were a bit more recent. They showed Y/N holding Frank as a puppy, a maternity photo of her and Auston posing when she was pregnant with Mia, and one of them on their wedding day with Mia and the rest of the gang. Then, the slideshow concluded with a very recent picture of them taken just a couple of weeks prior at Mia's birthday party, where Auston has his arms wrapped around Y/N from the back, showcasing her growing belly. At the same time, she leaned against him and glanced over her shoulder at him lovingly. The photos then went away and showed the guys again as Auston finished speaking.

Auston was right. Y/N was full-on bawling by that point.

All the guys were smiling as Auston finished saying his thing, but were soon interrupted by a knocking noise followed by a door opening.

Mitch: (offscreen) "Wait, no! Don't let her in!"

Mia: (also offscreen) "Daddy!"

Mia then came into the frame as she ran towards Auston, not caring about what was going on or who was there. Auston was quick reacting as he smiled widely and scooped Mia right up into his arms, making sure to place multiple kisses on her cheek as she giggled and squirmed in his hold, while Mitch became visible too and shrugged.

Auston: "Hi, mini. I missed you. Did you have fun with Mitchy?"

Mia: "Yeah! Where's mommy, daddy?"

Auston: "She's at home, baby girl. I'm almost done, then we can go get a Timbit while we wait for Mitch to be done. Sounds good?"

Mia: (knuckling at her eyes, tiredly) "Mhmm."

Rear: "This is adorable."

Biz: "Hi, Mia."

Mia: (shyly while hiding against Auston's chest a bit) "Hi, Biz."

Whit: (laughing) "Okay, I think we've kept you long enough now, Auston. Is there anything else you and Mia would like to say to Y/N?"

Auston: "Yes. Happy Valentine's Day, babe. I love you so much, and I'm sorry I'm not there right now. You're going to hear a lot more from me on actual Valentine's Day, but for right now, I think that's just about it. Mia, can you blow a kiss to the camera so mommy can see it and say 'happy Love Day!'"

Mia: (blows the kiss) "Happy Love Day, mommy!"

Auston: "Can you tell her that you love her?"

Mia: "Love you!"

Auston and Mia then waved to the camera and said bye as the clip faded out, and a new interview of another NHLer began playing.

Y/N's heart felt so full. She couldn't stop crying over how much she loved her family and how badly she needed to hear something like that. Life had been particularly hard on her as of late and seemed to keep throwing her curveballs, but this, this was exactly what she needed. To be reminded of how loved she is and that she genuinely is never alone.

She then grabbed her phone to call Auston and remind him of how much she loved him, that day and every day. The two talked for a few minutes before Y/N was pretty sure she could hear Mia waking up. After saying their goodbyes, Y/N found herself thinking about how, regardless of how she feels about the actual day, this was a Valentine's Day she will never forget.

[teacup-of-candlelight]

how long has it been since you slept?

1:00…. 1:30… 2:00?

2:30.

Fjord rolled over and began to slowly and silently touch each of his friends, the Mighty Nein, and cast water breathing for all of them. Normally being awake at 2:30 in the morning would not have been Fjord’s thing, but ever since the incident four nights ago sleep had been turbulent at best. If he slept at all.

Beau.

Caleb.

He went one by one counting his friends, chanting their names in his head so as to make certain he didn’t miss a single one. He couldn’t bare it if anything bad happened to them because of him.

Caduceus.

Veth.

Jester-

Jester?

Fjord started out of his silent chanting.

Where was Jester?

Panicked, he shot his eyes around the dome in search for the little blue tiefling. He had already cast the spell on everyone else. But Jester was nowhere to be found.

Rising fear and logic had a short but heated struggle in Fjord’s head before he finally gave in to logic. None of the rest of his friends had been awakened, no alarms had tripped, he couldn’t hear anything that would suggest a second invasion. But even so… where was she?

Tiptoeing as softly as possible over his sleeping comrades, the half-orc left the dome, endeavoring to not wake his compatriots in the process.

“Jester..” He called softly into the bowels of the ship. “Jester!”  Fjord found it difficult to shout and whisper at the same time. He continued to look, but with each passing minute his anxiety grew. Eventually he decided to abandon the lower decks all together and check topside. At least there might be more light to see by up there.

Sure enough, as soon as Fjord reached the top of the creaking wooden steps to the main deck of the ship, there he could see the form of Jester Lavorre in white under gown, tail twitching in the moonlight. She leaned against the railing, staring out at the sea, the breeze playing with her dark hair. Fjord let out a sigh of relief.

“Jester, there you are! Thank gods. What are you doing here?”

“Nothing…” came her slow reply. She didn’t turn to face him. “Just looking.”

Fjord heard something that could have been a sniffle, but that didn’t make any sense to him so he attempted to ignore it. Instead he took a deep breath and moved to stand next to Jester at the ships railing. They stood in silence for a heartbeat, watching the moon play on the waves, before he remembered his initial reason for finding the young blue woman. A little smirk crept onto his lips as he reached up and pated Jester’s head.

“Water Breathing…!” He declared playfully. “Now you should be good for the next 24 hours. Although it probably took me a good five minutes to find you so from now on you have to wait five minutes after the others. Which is really quite inconvenient for me you know since I should really be sleeping at this time of night…” Fjord sniffed and watched Jester letting his idle attempts at chatter to fade. His puffed up chest deflated the longer he watched her, his concern growing by the second.  

“How long has it been since you’ve slept, Fjord?” She finally turned to look him in the eyes, face small and serious.

Gods. The moonlight did beautiful things to her eyes.

“Like, really slept?” She emphasized with a slight pout.

Fjord was momentarily stunned, both by the ethereal image of the woman before him and by her sudden and direct question.

“Er.. uh. I was sleeping earlier tonight…! But you know, Yasha snores and…” He shifted uncomfortably. “Well you don’t seem to have much room to talk. How long have you been up here?”

“We’re not talking about me, Fjord, we’re talking about you!” She called him on his bluff with an adorable scowl. Her expression softened and she took a deep breath before continuing. “You haven’t slept through the night at all since then, have you?” It was phrased as a question, but Jester said it as a statement of fact.

Fjord swallowed. She wasn’t wrong.

“I heard you screaming… Was it nightmares again? From Uk’otoa?” She continued in a softer voice, eyes trained on the glistening dark waves off the side of the ship once again.

“Well now- I didn’t scream-” Fjord quickly defended his pride. If he had screamed for real he surely would have woken up the rest of his friends who were sleeping in such close proximity to him. But that wasn’t why he felt the need to correct her…

“Okay, okay! But you know what I meant.” The blue tiefling gesticulated grandly and rolled her eyes, voice pitching higher in impatient annoyance. Fjord always secretly thought it adorable when she got exasperated, but somehow the experience was markedly less fun when it was directed at him.

She was trying to hide her worry behind a veneer of something like cold aloofness, but no matter how high in the air she stuck her button nose, he could still see her knuckles white in the moonlight as they interlaced tightly, resting on the railing.

“Jester…” He sighed. “I’m alright. Really.”

“Stop telling me you’re okay! Like nothing happened!” She rounded back on him, hair whipping around her, horns glinting in the starry light. Violet eyes watery. “Because it did Fjord!” He could now see the purple tinges around her eyes and nose.

Had she been…? Oh gods.

“You died!” Jester’s voice hitched on the word died. “And… And I couldn’t do anything.”

Jester had turned her face away from Fjord, head down and bangs covering her eyes. Oh gods… It seemed to Fjord that she had been crying, or something very close. He couldn’t fathom why, but she seemed to be aiming all of her emotion at him. It wasn’t as if she—

Even so he wanted to support her… not that he really knew how.

Fjord put a tentative hand on her arm. “Jester, you look sad…” That sentence had made sense in his head until he heard it out loud. The half-orc silently cursed himself as he scrambled to find better words despite his bleary sleep deprived mind. “Ehr! What I mean to say is- Why are you upset about that?”

“Because,” Fjord couldn’t breathe when she looked at him this time. “I care about you!” She choked back a tiny sob. Little streams of water now freely fell down her soft cheeks.

“Jester-”

“I promised you before that I would heal you when you were hurting- if Uk’otoa hurt you. But when you needed me.. I couldn’t get to you! I-I let you die, Fjord.” Jester aggressively wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “And I couldn’t even heal you…!” The girl finally gave in to her tears and stopped speaking.

Fjord once again felt as though there were a sword in his chest. How was it—how could it possibly be—that seeing Jester cry made Fjord almost wish the that he actually had been stabbed again, instead of having to see her like this. He would do anything to make her feel better. Take a sword. Fight a sea god… Hold her?

Somehow that one seemed harder than the others. More terrifying.

“Hey, hey…!” Fjord consoled the crying Jester softly. He cupped her face with his hands almost instinctively, and tried to wipe the tears from her purple flushed cheeks.

Her face fit so neatly in his hands. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch. His heart hiccupped in his chest, but he pressed it down. She was more important than his feelings right now.

“Jester listen to me—” She looked up at him, lips quivering, still sniffling violently. “It’s okay. You did your best! You always have. And we’re alright.”

Jester stopped sniffling for a moment, caught off guard by his word choice. She wasn’t the only one, but Fjord didn’t exactly have the time to truly contemplate the implications of it. First he had to help her. He could have a self-chastising session later.

“You do so much for me all the time,” he couldn’t help but chuckle fondly, “it’s alright if you share that burden every now and then.”

“You’re not a burden Fjord!—” Jester tried to protest, but he kept going.

“Think about it. Caduceus was there to help you.” He thought about that for a second before adding, “Help me. Either way, you’ve never let me down in any way Jester. What happened to me wasn’t your fault.”

The tiefling girls violet eyes began to glisten with water once more. “But-!”

“No buts!” Fjord interjected sternly, a finger out in front of her face. Contemplatively he studied her face, subconsciously noting every freckle. “We’re in this together, you and I. We’ve always been a team, yeah?”

With a hesitant hum she nodded in agreement.

“But we’re not alone either. We have friends that care about us support us too. Hells, I have this past that I’ve been trying so hard to get rid of that I just can’t seem to shake! But that’s not your fault. We’re not alone in this. We have the rest of the Nein to fall back on… So don’t be sad about not healing me this time, okay?”

Heaving a heavy sigh Jester consented. “…Okay.”

“Okay.” Fjord smiled fondly at her, hands still holding her cheeks.

“But Fjord,” a small blue hand came up and rested on top of Fjord’s calloused green one. “Are you sure you’re really okay? That you’ll be okay?”

Bless her, her expression was still filled with concern. For him.

The man let out a troubled sigh. “I’m, sure I will be. With time.”

“And sleep…!” Jester giggled softly through her drying tears.

“And sleep.” Fjord agreed.

The two continued to share a look, hands touching still, hair and clothes tugged on by the sea breeze, eyes locked. What in Exandria had Fjord ever done to deserve someone like the young lady before him who would worry about him? Butterflies began to crawl their way up his gullet, and he became instantly aware of their rather intimate position.

“Ehem!” The half orc cleared his throat as he removed his hands from Jester. “Well, eh, we better be getting back below decks, yeah? Sleep, and all that.”

“Oh yeah, yeah, yeah!” She emphatically agreed, rubbing at her face in an attempt to clear it. “It would be really bad if the others woke up to like, poop or something, and saw that we were missing. I bet they’d be like, super worried.” Finally she smiled. Fjord smiled too.

“Probably! I know I w—” He caught himself. That had been too close for comfort. Moonlight glowed softly on Jester’s skin. The waves were lapping at the ship rhythmically, above the stars were twinkling.

The ensuing internal struggle last only a second or two but felt to Fjord like ages. Half of him yearned to press his lips to hers. But the other half knew that no matter how he may have felt, this wasn’t the time. He wasn’t ready. He hadn’t even been brave enough to even hold her properly. Not yet.

In compromise, Fjord leaned forward and planted a small kiss at the top of Jester’s forehead. “Thank you, for your concern. It means a lot to me. But you don’t have to worry your pretty little head about me anymore. I’ll be fine.”

The young woman’s cheeks turned a shade darker. She looked like she was searching for the right thing to say, but by the time she had found it Fjord was already entering the depths of the ship.

Despite the freshness of the incident only days before, tonight Fjord knew he would sleep.  

[yunatheintrovert]

shot through the heart (and you’re to blame) | Chapter 3 [Russell Adler/Female Bell!Reader Soulmate AU]

As you listened to the familiar gradual crescendo of Morning Mood overlap with the regular hiss of your oxygen mask, you looked around the darkly lit interior of the C-130. Red netting that comprised the seats stood out starkly against the dark interior. It was certainly uncomfortable but nothing you haven’t dealt with before. 

Aside from the several MI6 operatives sent as support for the operation, Belikov and Sims were seated next to you while Adler was seated across from you with some files in hand. Although, you didn’t know how he could read them in the darkly lit cabin while also having sunglasses on. 

You almost wished you brought sunglasses like Adler always did. The harsh desert sunlight was going to be quite the shock. But you were never sure how the hell he kept those things on his head. He somehow managed to do that in Cuba. 

Speaking of the man…

“How does he do that?” you asked lowly, well as quietly as you could in the cabin of a C-130 Hercules with an oxygen mask on and a walkman blaring Morning Mood, “I always see him with a cigarette yet he’s doing fine up here.” 

“Doc?” Sims replied before adding, “He knows how to handle hypoxia. Hell, he was one of the first in our unit to go through with HALO jumping in its experimental days.” 

You recalled that from your “memories” of being on Adler’s team in MACV-SOG. That did come up once in a conversation. Although, like everything else that “happened” in Vietnam, it was foggy. 

Truth be told, you were a bit envious. 

Adler could be a chain smoker and take only a quick breather with the oxygen mask while you and the rest of the team had to breathe through an oxygen mask for most of the flight to flush out nitrogen in the body. 

You must have trailed off into your thoughts at one point as you felt an elbow nudge you out of your thoughts. You glanced over at Sims only to notice the very topic of your idle thoughts staring at you. 

You stared at him for several moments before simply blinking. You were too tired and hungry for this especially after Lazar spent a whole 30 minutes talking with Sims about quarter pound burgers...

“Anything I can help you with, sir?” you asked tiredly. You saw his hands move minutely as if he wanted to take a drag from a non-existent cigarette. 

Habit, you thought vaguely. Military plane transport rides must be quite annoying to him since he couldn’t smoke in the military transport. 

“I had a friend in Vietnam,” Adler began abruptly with his voice taking that familiar turn you heard before, “His canopy got tangled after a collision with one of our own during terminal. He ended up in the treetops. Alive though that wasn’t a damn mercy.” 

...Really at this point, you weren’t sure if Adler was conducting psychological warfare on you or not. 

“...that’s uh unfortunate,” you said awkwardly, not quite sure of what exactly to say to that story. 

Especially since the very thought of crashing like Adler’s buddy was something you were trying to keep off your mind. 

You really were just too tired for a sudden story time with Adler, especially since you couldn’t figure out his angle like this. You’ve pulled all-nighters before back in your desk job at Langley but you had caffeine. Coffee had not been offered in the outpost and most of the team was going through caffeine withdrawal...hard. 

Well, Belikov was fine considering how he primarily drank tea in the morning but you and Sims on the other hand...

“I wasn’t finished,” Adler stated before adding as if simply stating a fact, “His radio wasn’t working. He was alone and panicking. You won’t.”

Oh . 

“...Understood.” was all you could quietly say as you turned your head to the side, suddenly finding the cargo box of M16s to be quite interesting. 

Perhaps if you had a heavy dose of caffeine, you’d have come with a more clever response to Adler's apparent vote of confidence or...support? You really didn’t know. 

Things really did seem simpler the last time you were on his team. 

Regardless, as you heard the pilots announce over the intercom about the approach to the drop zone, you couldn’t help but feel steadier. 

It was time. 

Watching in a trance

The crew is certain

Nothing left to chance

All is working

Trying to relax

“Bell, my friend!” Belikov said rather cheerily while adjusting the straps of his harness as if he wasn’t just about to jump from a plane 30,000 ft in the air, “You ready for this?” 

“...You’ll get my life insurance benefits.”

And really that was an answer in and of itself. 

All that earned you was an amused laugh by Belikov and a slap on the back as he cheerily said, “Just aim for the bushes!” 

As you chuckled at his jest, you vaguely noted that your own harness was a little too loose as it had shifted from the simple action. 

Up in the capsule

"Send me up a drink."

Jokes Major Tom

The count goes on...

“There is always the reserve parachute, да?” The light-heartedness in his voice made you couldn’t help but relax minutely. Although, you couldn’t help the giddy feeling that had nagged at you since the start of the plane ride. 

There were numerous possible scenarios where the reserve chute failed that ran through your mind at that moment: mispacking, entanglement of both the main and reserve parachutes, premature activation of the AAD...

And really it wasn’t quite the possibility of death that scared you as much as it was surviving a bad fall and dealing with the injuries...and the health insurance afterwards. 

The medical bills for the gunshot wound courtesy of Adler nearly made you go broke. 

“Well, at least I’ll die to the sound of Major Tom. There’s worse ways to die.” you murmured to yourself with Belikov looking curiously at you. 

But all you did was simply nod at Belikov as you busied yourself with getting the harness properly fitted to your form. 

Like Lazar, the man always had a way of lightening things.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sounding of the alarm. You noticed the light at the ramp turned to yellow for standby. 

The pilots were about to give the go-ahead for the drop. 

As you fell into line with the other operatives of the operation field team on standby near the ramp, you fidgeted with the straps of the oxygen mask on your head as well as the harness before checking the jump bottle attached to your harness. 

“Alright, guys,” Adler curtly said, “You know the drill. Keep the formation tight. I don’t want to see anyone trekking through the desert for miles to get to the satellite site.” 

Somehow, you felt that last bit was directed at you with how the man’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before looking over at the others. 

And you could tell the others felt the same way. The MI6 members were already looking at you as if you were the “problem child” of the group. 

Truthfully, you expected that, considering your rather...notable past even though you could only recall a handful of memories from it at best. 

If there was a bit of a bounce in your step as you lined up with your assigned group formation at the ramp, well you certainly weren’t going to pay no mind to the looks it may garner. 

You were going to be jumping out of an airplane at 30,000 ft while listening to Major Tom. 

Fewer pleasures in life , you told yourself. 

With a beep over the plane’s intercom system and the switch to the green light, the first cracks of painfully bright sunlight streamed into the dark interior of the plane. 

The glare of the desert sun only got more intense as the ramp fully unloaded. You could see the cloudless, clear blue skies and yellow sand dunes being akin to small yellow hills in the distance down below. 

As you followed the MI16 operative in front of you to the now open ramp, you took a deep, steadying breath through your oxygen mask. 

It was time. 

You secured the glasses on your face as you motioned silently with your free hand, signalling the countdown of Major Tom to yourself. 

4

3

2

1-

And on a wing and a prayer, you let yourself just fall .

Earth below us

Drifting, falling

Floating weightless

Calling, calling home…

You could feel your heartbeat thudding in your chest as your stomach dropped. The adrenaline rush was similar to your previous jumps. 

Although, you didn’t quite feel this...giddy. 

Looking down, you read the marked dials of your altimeter at your wrist. 

29,500 ft. 

All you had to do was follow the “leader” or rather navigator in this case and make sure the parachute was deployed. If shit hit the fan, well...there was always your automatic activation device to deploy the main or reserve parachutes. 

You vaguely noticed the sharp hiss of the oxygen mask as you took each and every breath became louder and louder. 

Even as the low music in your headset- secured by your helmet -played the verses of Major Tom , you could still hear the whistling of the wind in your ears. 

“Approaching drop zone.” you heard the navigator’s voice come over the radio. As you listened to the confirmations over the radio by the other operatives, you shook your head idly. The whistling of the wind was triggering the ringing in your ears apparently. 

Second stage is cut, we're now in orbit

Stabilizers up, running perfect

Starting to collect requested data

"What will it effect, when all is done?"

Thinks Major Tom

You looked down at your altimeter yet again only to see a blur of red, orange, and blue at your wrist- 

And suddenly, there was a flash of light before your eyes. 

Back at ground control

There is a problem

"Go to rockets full."

Not responding

"Hello Major Tom

Are you receiving?

Turn the thrusters on

We're standing by."

There's no reply

________________________________________________________________

You vaguely registered the static of the radio in your ears. 

“We’ve got a job to do, Bell-”

“Wake the hell up!”

You blinked. Why the hell was Adler calling you on the radio like that? You had only blinked for a split second-

And then you looked down at your altimeter. 

4,000 ft. 

What...what the hell-

“ Your main chute is fucked, kid. You need to do a cutaway with your hook knife-” Yes...your hook knife. You reached over to the harness straps where you pulled the hook knife out from the pocket there. 

“Yes, good, now cut the lines.”

You blinked. 

There...there were a lot of lines. 

Almost like that of a cat’s cradle game...

“Bell, focus.” 

You were already sawing away at the tangled white lines of your main parachute. They were twisted so at least you sawed several out in one go-

“2,000 ft.” 

“...sir...I uh dropped my hook knife.” you said hazily with a sheepish laugh. 

“Then use your other knife.” 

Oh . 

“Yessir.”

It really was supposed to be simple. But really reaching for the knife in your thigh holster was an awkward affair when falling at terminal velocity. 

You brought your knee closer up to yourself as you reached for the knife. Suddenly, you felt the world spin-

“Bell, you’re going sideways. Get the knife. Now.”

You felt the firm handle of the knife as you quickly brought it up to the lines above you and dragged the edge across the parachute cord lines. 

“1,000 ft. Hurry the fuck up, Bell. Your AAD will deploy at any second now.”

Your AAD...oh fuck . 

How the hell had you forgotten about that...

4, 3, 2, 1 Earth below us Drifting, falling Floating weightless Calling, calling home...

On a hope and prayer, you sliced through the last remaining line and just prayed that the reserve chute wouldn’t get entangled on the main parachute you had just cut away. 

700 ft. 

Belikov , you thought with resignation, I sure hope you get my life insurance benefits . 

And just like that, you felt like a Soviet heavy soldier had just suckerpunched you with a cinderblock. 

Across the stratosphere A final message: "Give my wife my love." Then nothing more

________________________________________________________________

You stared down at the-relatively-solid ground beneath you. The grains of sand were hot to the touch even as you wore gloves. 

Were you dead…?

Suddenly, you felt a hand wrench away the oxygen mask you wore. You looked up into the blazing sun only to squint and see a dark figure.

There was the distinct smell of nicotine and smoke…

“Sir?” you asked only to see a large gloved hand holding a dark grey oxygen mask and shoving it onto your face. 

“Breathe.”

It wasn’t a request. 

You took a deep breath, hearing the hiss of oxygen and finally registering the ending notes of Major Tom . Wait, the next song was about to begin-

You shot to your feet, pulling the mask away from your face and handing it back to Adler. 

“I’m fine,” you swore fervently with a perhaps bit too forced of a smile. 

Sure, you were a bit dazed. 

But that was just the adrenaline working its magic, right? 

You unclipped the bag attached to your waist and quickly got out your XM4 with the magazine loaded and ready after two trusty taps on your helmet. 

“You’re experiencing decompression sickness right now, kid.” Adler sighed. You couldn’t help but wince at that slightly. 

You had disappointed him. Although, you had warned him about your inexperience with HALO jumping. 

“Just do overwatch for the operation at the cliff side.”

You opted to just obediently nod. 

You’d keep overwatch over the site unless the marked targets were secured and destroyed by the marked time designations. 

If that wasn’t the case...well you always had your good ol’ trusty C4 in your bag. 

________________________________________________________________

As it would turn out, things became a shitshow. 

Apparently Perseus supplied their hired DGI soldiers with more aid than expected. The team had come into the site expecting all kinds of things. Assault helicopters, spy planes, artillery-

But not radio jammers . 

Well, there was Plan B…

But you hadn’t seen the signal for it yet. 

And so you turned off your radio, no longer wanting to hear the crackling static of it all. 

Looking down the scope of your XM4 rifle, you decided to finally resume playing your Walkman. 

Sun is shinin' in the sky

There ain't a cloud in sight

It's stopped rainin' everybody's in the play

And don't you know

It's a beautiful new day, hey hey

Humming the merry little tune lightly to yourself, you fired several shots in a short burst through the skull of a DGI soldier emerging from the small canyon where the satellite had crashed. The body crumpled to the ground and you saw a shadow dart away from the entrance to the canyon. That was the tenth one you sniped down so far-

Your thoughts were cut short by the sight of blue smoke contrasting sharply against the yellow sand dunes. 

Plan B it was then , you mused to yourself. 

Runnin' down the avenue

See how the sun shines brightly in the city

On the streets where once was pity

Mr. Blue Sky is living here today, hey hey

Electric Light Orchestra’s Mr. Blue Sky graced your ears under the clear blue skies of Angola as you soon descended down to the canyon floor. Your gloved hands tightly gripped the ropes. 

The last thing you needed was to make another abrupt fall and land on your ass. 

As you let go of the ropes and fell the remaining several feet to the floor, you scanned your surroundings. The rocks to your left were a good cover in case the enemy tried to flank or ambush you. 

Although, you couldn’t afford to play defense at the moment. 

Plant the C4 and get the hell out of dodge, you told yourself. 

Mr. Blue Sky please tell us why

You had to hide away for so long (so long)

Where did we go wrong?

However, even the best laid plans were burned away by the fog of war.

And just as you finally arrived at the designated Zone A of the KH-9 satellite crash site, yours were stomped to pieces by all too familiar steps. 

Well, shiitake . 

It was your worst kind of enemy.

A Heavy.

Now, you could just waste an entire magazine trying to shoot that impossibly sturdy bucket off their head. But that would give away your position, expose you to those damn concussion grenades, and deplete your ammo. 

Hence why you decided on the only rational thing to do. 

You were going to kill that buckethead with your trusty 7-inch bowie knife. 

Hey you with the pretty face

Welcome to the human race

A celebration, Mr. Blue Sky's up there waitin'

And today is the day we've waited for

With a light whistle from your lips, you heard the Heavy’s footsteps approach your location. 

Just like Belikov taught , you thought as you readied your Magnum, cocking the hammer back. 

The large shadow cast from their figure was already past your hiding place behind the rock. 

They walked closer and closer until you could see the heavily armored plates protecting their legs walking past you. 

And then you took the shot. 

There was a muffled, strangled cry of pain from the DGI Heavy as they staggered back from the shot. You took advantage of the momentum by lunging from behind, sinking the bowie knife deep into the narrow gap between the helmet and the neck. 

The height difference made it somewhat difficult but you could deal with it. 

Hey there Mr. Blue

We're so pleased to be with you

Look around see what you do

Everybody smiles at you

That small fleshy opening was just enough for you to sink your knife several inches in. 

You were quite sure you nicked the carotid artery. 

But that wasn’t nearly a quick enough death. 

Still, you didn’t have time to go for a second strike. A short burst of gunfire erupted from their LMG. You ducked back under the cover of the rock that really was just getting obliterated by the LMG fire.

You silently counted. It wouldn’t take long for them to be forced to reload and throw a concussion grenade your way. 

They always did that. 

It was simply protocol that came from training. 

And you would use that against them. 

Mr. Blue, you did it right

But soon comes Mr. Night creepin' over

Now his hand is on your shoulder

Never mind I'll remember you this

I'll remember you this way

And true as church bells rang on Sundays, you heard the rapid fire of the LMG die down and you fired a quick round from your Magnum at the Heavy before lunging. 

This time, you didn’t half-ass it. 

Large hands were already heavy punches at your ribs but your padded combat vest absorbed most of the blows. Not stopping your momentum, you forced the bowie knife in through the same fleshy gap. This time though, it was a frontal attack. 

You felt the knife enter smoothly into the neck until it hit resistance in the muscle protecting the jugular vein and then you just twisted it. There was a choking gurgling sound erupting from the Heavy’s throat as you felt the hands now grappling at your shoulders squeeze painfully before relaxing. 

You severed their jugular and carotid artery. 

It was only when you withdrew the knife from the neck of the Heavy that you noticed the wet feeling on your eyelashes as you blinked. You rubbed at your eyes with the back of your glove. You stared down at the crimson stain on the fabric when you pulled your hand back. 

Your hands never really were clean.

With a sigh, you stood up from straddling the dead body and set your knife in its sheath at your thigh.

You still had to plant that C4-

And that’s when you heard it. 

That all too familiar beeping sound. 

It had been nearly instinct for you to simply drop to the ground and partially roll the still heavily-armored corpse of the Heavy to face you, shielding you from the direction the inevitable detonation was going to come from. 

Of course like clockwork, the beeping stopped. 

Hey there Mr. Blue (sky)

We're so pleased to be with you (sky)

Look around see what you do (blue)

Everybody smiles at you-

(And you proceeded to see stars in your vision as you felt what seemed to be a cannonball slam into you.)

________________________________________________________________

“Bloody hell! Are you okay?” you heard an accented voice ask above you. 

It was one of those MI6 field agents sent as support for the operation. 

“Yeah,” you murmured hazily, blinking away the blotches of color and stars still littering your vision, “I...uh should have paid more attention.” 

You didn’t quite know how you missed one of the operatives planting C4 at Zone A. They must have been stealthy about it while you were in the middle of stabbing a Heavy repeatedly in the neck. 

“Sorry about that, mate. I got a bit overzealous with the C4. We’re about to head to exfil.” the operative offered out his arm to you which you quickly took. Your balance was still wobbly as you could hear the deafening ringing in your ears drown out whatever songs your Walkman was playing. 

Speaking of your Walkman, you looked down at it worriedly only to sigh in relief. 

Miraculously, it hadn’t taken severe damage. Nothing not unrepairable. 

That was good. 

You could heal from bruises, concussions, and whatever the hell was thrown at you. But you couldn’t replace this Walkman. 

You idly looked down to see the corpse of the Heavy you had taken down. The armor had gotten large fragments but it looked like the corpse was still intact. With a glance at the retreating MI6 agent, you knelt down quickly, pulling away the armor from the corpse. 

Only a select few got to wear this kind of heavy duty armor. It was a privilege due to the sheer expensiveness and maintenance costs of the armor plates. 

Patting down the corpse, you felt a familiar rectangular shape in one of the pockets on the corpse’s vest. Pulling it out, you found that it was-

...a cassette tape? 

‘ Миллион алых роз ’ was written on the white label on the cassette tape. 

Your musings were cut short by the crackling of the radio at your waist. The radio jammers must have been destroyed by now.

“If I were you, I’d get to exfil now, Bell. Doc’s waiting for you.” 

You sighed. 

Honestly, you weren’t sure if you were going to face disappointment at how little you contributed to the operation or how you intervened in the operation after the radio jammers went off. 

Either one wasn’t good. 

Story Time With Adler it was, you thought hazily. At least, you liked his voice. There was just an assuredness and husky tone to his voice that was pleasant to listen to…

And with that idle thought in mind, you hurriedly made your way to exfil, trying not to trip on the rocks on the way there with your still wobbly sense of balance.

_______________________________________________________________  

“ Bell.” was all the man in question had to say. He took a drag of his cigarette in the helicopter as you reluctantly grabbed the offered oxygen mask in hand and took a deep breath from it. 

After breathing in and out for several seconds, you took off the oxygen mask and smiled with widened eyes as you gave a thumbs up gesture to the man across from you. Maybe you were exaggerating a bit too much but you really did want him to get off your back regarding the matter of oxygen. 

It hadn’t helped you much back during the HALO jump apparently. 

Perhaps, he’d buy into it-

“Bell, it’s oxygen, not cocaine.”

...or maybe not…

And so you resigned yourself to spending the next several hours wearing an oxygen mask while Adler watched you like a hawk while taking drags of his cigarette. 

[pi-cat000]

MSA time travel idea (part 39)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25  Lewis POV 3,  Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5

Part 40: here

...

LEWIS POV

Lewis comes to welcome the dark interludes which provide a brief reprieve from the parade of fake-Arthur-memories. The cold, empty silence is preferable to the increasingly dour scenes depicting the day-to-day struggles of fake-Arthur and fake-Vivi as they fail at dealing with fake-Lewis’s death. Not that either of them know about his death. Arthur doesn’t remember the cliff or the body snatcher, thinking fake-Lewis is alive and lost somewhere. Vivi doesn’t remember him at all. He’s been erased completely from her mind, leaving her confused and Arthur distraught.  Lewis has no idea how long he’s spent watching them struggle. The scenes come and go at varying lengths and changing levels of detail.  He must have lived through several weeks’ worth of fake-memories now. Months of Arthur’s life flit by, broken up into chunks. 

...

A conversation with Vivi, trying and failing to convince her that the other-Lewis had existed at all.

“Lewis…you know, Lewis. Please remember.”

“I’m sorry, I blanked out for a second there…what were you saying?” 

“Nothing. It’s nothing…”

“Oh shit…I was...how long was I out for this time?”

“An hour...You were gone for an hour.”

 “I’m sorry Arthur.” 

“Don’t worry about it. Was my fault…Mentioned something I shouldn’t have.”

Fights with Lance when the older man attempts to intervene and stop Arthur’s increasingly destructive behaviour.   

“This behaviour isn’t healthy.”

“What am I supposed to do!”

“Maybe, stop and actually think about this…” 

“Lewis is out there somewhere, and you want me to just give up!”

Hours spend online and in police stations trying to convince people to look for the other-Lewis. 

“Kid. You’re friend is listed as missing. We have alerts out in the neighbouring states and so far there’s been no word. Search parties, caving experts, were combing those old mine shafts for six days after you came in. There was nothing there.”

“Something happened there...something bad...if you would just...”

“The cave is just a regular cave. Those old mines are old mines. Nothing weird or spooky about them, just very easy to get lost in. There’s nothing more to be done so go home, eat a hot meal, get some sleep. If your friend shows up you’ll be one of the first to know. ” 

...

 It’s like watching a highlight real, only nothing about these memories is a highlight. He’s almost sure the fake-memories are selected and purposefully skewed towards negative experiences. Surely, even if this were real-it’s not real, it can’t be real-Arthur’s life wouldn’t be this bad without Lewis there.  

When the darkness falls away, transitioning into another memory, Lewis wants to yell out in frustration.

…

…

…

Lewis’s eyes open of their own accord and he’s looking out at the world, experiencing life from his friend’s perspective.

…

…

This memory starts with Arthur staring as a door handle, hesitating to pull it open. Lewis recognises it of course, he’s seen this door serval times, scattered in amongst the most recent lot of fake-memories. It’s the door to Vivi and Arthur’s apartment in Milton, faded green in colour and rusted around the hinges.

Arthur lets out a long breath which tranistions into a yawn, fiddling around with a set of keys with his one, good arm. Lewis tries not to worry when his friend drops the keys to the ground, hand slightly shakier than usual. Arthur probably hasn’t been sleeping properly. Not-sleeping is a running theme for this fake-memory-Arthur.

When the door does finally swing open, it is to reveal an irate Vivi. She is blocking the flat’s narrow entryway, her hands on her hips, expression creased into a scowl.

“In what universe does ‘I’ll be back early’ mean 11:30 pm?”

Arthur winces. Lewis can’t see his expression but his friend is probably grimacing. Most memories that feature both Vivi and Arthur involved an argument of some sort. Another form of torture for him no doubt. Seeing them struggle to come to terms with his disappearance was always a painful viewing experience. Lewis braces himself for some sort of emotionally charged argument, wishing he had the power to intervein. These fake-memories are some of the hardest to sit through.

“A lot of the guys in the lab work late hours.”

Vivi looks unimpressed, “And I suppose they’re all recovering from a recent amputation as well are they?”

“It’s been four months …It’s healed plenty.”

Lewis feels the echo sensation of pain as Arthur drops his bag to the floor, freeing up his remaining arm. Arthur lying to Vivi about his wellbeing is another common theme in these fake-memories. Vivi knows it too, Lewis can already see the tension in her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Arthur tries to reassure, skirting around Vivi, avoiding eye contact. “The prototype for the new arm is almost done, we’re just waiting on the guys in programming to double-check some of the coding….”

“This new arm isn’t going to be worth much if you’re too exhausted to do anything with it.” Vivi interrupts angrily, following Arthur as he slinks past the small kitchen towards bedrooms at the back of the apartment.  

Lewis feels her grabs the back of Arthur’s shirts, pulling the other up short.

“I said I’m fin….wait.”

 Vivi drags Arthur to the narrow kitchen bench just big enough to fit two bar-chairs, ignoring his objections.

“Sit.” She orders, stopping over to the frig, pulling out a bowl and thrusting it into the microwave. The hum of the microwave makes the following quiet twice as uncomfortable. Even Lewis feels it.

Arthur clears his throat to speak and is cut off when the microwave lets off a loud ping.

Vivi all but slams the streaming bowl down in front of Arthur.

“You really don’t have to…” Arthur tries.

“Oh yeah? What did you eat for dinner?”

Silence.

“Lunch?”

“…”

“Because I only know you ate breakfast because I was there for it.”

More silence hangs between them.  

“Eat.” She instructs and glares until Arthur picks up the spoon. Lewis can feel Arthur shift in awkward discomfort as he starts eating. After living through so many of these fake-memories, Lewis is becoming an Arthur body language expert. 

“How was work?” Arthur breaks the silence, glancing at Vivi. She is sitting with her arms crossed, still upset, still annoyed. Lewis can read the worry fuelling her frustration clear as day. 

Her expression clears as she deliberately puts the issue of Arthur arriving late to one side, “Work was good. Duet is a real character but they’re nice and super knowledgeable when it comes to the occult and other supernatural stuff. They’re helping me research memory-related curses and whatnot. The first person, apart from you, who doesn’t think I’m crazy. So that’s a plus.”

“When my arm is fixed, we can hit the road and follow up on any leads you hear,” Arthur murmurs between mouthfuls and Lewis wishes he could face-palm because that is the exact wrong thing to say. Not for the first time, Lewis longs to be physically present so he can smooth over the sudden tension which spikes in the room.  “Or we could go before that…I mean…I don’t really need two arms.”

“It’s not urgent or anything,” Vivi responds with the forced cheer of someone holding back on speaking their mind. “I bleary notice that the memories are gone most days. Your arm is more important.”

 “Don’t say that,” Arthur stops eating to frown.

“Don’t say what? That I’m fine postponing the search for my memories for however long it takes you to get better?”

“That’s not…what I mean is that your memories are important.”

Vivi’s expression hardens, becoming terse, “Not more important than your health.”

Arthur tenses.

“My missing memories can wait,” She insists. “I’ve been doing fine without them. Especially now we live here and not in Tempo. I haven’t had a blackout since we moved.”

“It’s not just that…” Arthur retorts, frustrated.

“Then what.” Vivi snaps, almost yelling now, “Do you hear yourself speak?  ‘I don’t really need two arms,’…are you kidding me!  What could possibly be more important than your health.”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

Vivi lets out a long, frustrated breath, standing. “You promised, when we moved closer to the hospital labs, you promised that you’d make an effort to actually look after yourself.”

Arthur doesn’t respond as Vivi continues.  “When your arm is finished. When you look like an actual person and not a zombie. When we don’t have to have this conversation every day. Then we’ll go searching.”

The bar stool squeaks on the floor as Vivi pushes it back, “I’m going to bed. I’ve got work early tomorrow. You should sleep as well…when you’ve finished.”

A long silence stretches between his two friends, all the heat gone from the argument. Lewis can’t see Vivi anymore, Arthur’s vision is now fixed on his spoon which is resting on the lip of the bowl.

“I would tell you everything…if I could…” Arthur doesn’t look up. His voice is strained.

Vivi pauses in the doorway. “I know.” She sounds tired. Lewis’s heart aches. “That doesn’t change anything.” 

Arthur flinches.

A sigh and Vivi adds, “I better not find you awake in an hour because I’m going to set my alarm to check.”

“What?” Arthur finally looks up. “You can’t do that.”

“I can and will.”

“…but you just said you have work in the morning.”

“If you’re not gonna sleep then I’m not gonna sleep.”

“But….”

“Just the way it’s gotta be apparently,” Vivi finishes, strolling out of the room, leaving Arthur- and, through him, Lewis- to stare after her.

Arthur slumps, “God…damnit…” rubbing his eyes. There’s no anger to the word.

No matter how many times he’s seen Arthur and Vivi argue in the weeks and months following his counterpart’s death, it never got any easier.  They were both too stubborn for their own good. Arthur’s got a quiet, methodical stubbornness about him while Vivi is loud and abrasive. Mix that with emotional stress and an obvious concern for one another and the result was a whole load of tension. Lewis knows Arthur has low self-esteem and tendency to beat himself up and blame himself for stuff that definitely wasn’t his fault, but he’s never seen him this bad. It never seemed like that big a deal when both him and Vivi had been around to help.  Vivi too, he’s never see her so stressed and angry at seemingly everything.  Or maybe Lewis doesn’t know Vivi or Arthur as well as he thought he did. 

There is movement in the corner of the room and Lewis notices Mystery for the first time. The not-a-dog had been lying in the corner.

“What.”

Mystery just cocks his head to the side.

“I know you can understand me,” Arthur mutters, shifting with discomfort. Mystery doesn’t speak or do much of anything, trotting out of the room after Vivi. Not too surprising. Another trend in these illusions was that Mystery tended to just sit and watch.

Sometimes, Lewis wonders if he just imagined the whole ‘giant fox’ thing. His memories for the car park confrontation are fuzzy, he’d been in a lot of pain at the time and probably suffering a bit of blood loss. He’s lived through so many of these memories that the real would seams so far away. Then he remembers those shinning teeth biting into him, and very real physical pain. That was real. 

The real world was still out there. 

None of these memories were real. He had almost forgotten. 

“I’m not crazy,” Arthur murmurs, eyeing the dog uneasily before turning back to finish what’s left in his bowl. Lewis can’t read Arthur’s thoughts, but he suspects that his friend might be having similar doubts about Mystery’s true identity as well.

“I’ll find you, Lewis…”

For a second, Lewis thinks Arthur is addressing him directly before remembering that that’s impossible. This fake-memory-Arthur is addressing the ghost of a best friend he doesn’t know is dead. Lewis is only a passenger, watching life through Arthur’s eyes, invisible and stranded.

“I’ll find you …no matter what it takes. I’ll find you. And everything will go back to normal…”

…

…

…

The memory fades, darkening and Lewis is once again back in the dark.

...

...

...

“DAMNIT!”

He slams both fists into the ground, watching the darkness ripple under the impact. His yell doesn’t echo, swallowed by the nothing.

“Damnit…DAMNIT…DAMN IT ALL!”

Feelings of frustration and anger smother his hurt and sorrow. He growls, smashing his fist into the ground again. If this were the real world, he’d have to worry about bruising his knuckles or breaking his fingers. The void offers little in the way of resistance. 

“I GET IT, ALL RIGHT! They’re miserable…they’re struggling…I get the point!”

Nothing responds to his shouting. He’s alone. He shouts again, screaming into the void. He’s stopped questioning the motive behind what he was seeing long ago. They were illusions masquerading as his friend’s memories. Designed to hurt him as much as you can hurt a person without touching them.

“Just stop already!” He rages. Nothing responds.

 Fury, white-hot, is better than the creeping sadness threatening to drown him. Sure, being angry about things had never worked well for him in the past. He’d been a very angry child and it was only thanks to his adopted patents and then Vivi and Arthur that he’d put the unpleasant emotion behind him.

None of that mattered here. Here, in the dark, the anger is his only defence against the green bastard’s torture.

Lewis regrets not punching the asshole when he had the chance. He wishes he’d done a lot of things differently. Lewis continues yelling right up until the dark once again fades into another memory.

..

NOTE: Resurrecting this fic in anticipation for a possible new video maybe? One can only dream. Sorry if it reads slightly different, i’m a bit rusty.  

Part 40: here

[tsuki-xoxo]

Game Plan

Overview: What you thought was supposed to be a group outing with your friends turned out to be a surprise (planned) one-on-one with your crush. 

Pairing: Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Word Count: 1370

Genre: Scenario, Fluff

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for a minute, and I finally said fuck it-- Midoriya. I might have really done sum y’all 👀 Anyways, thank you for reading and I hope you all enjoy! 💗

“Oh,” you pause in your steps, eyes widening. “Deku? It’s only you?” you asked outside of the diner your friends had claimed to meet up for the weekend, only to find Izuku patiently waiting and scribbling away at one of his hero notebooks.

“(Y-Y/N)! You’re here already?” Rubbing onto your forearm, you nodded. Maybe you came too early? But Mina texted you to meet up here at 12pm, and it’s 12:05. Besides, Midoriya is already here, so you can’t be too early, right? 

Said male must’ve noticed your internal conflict; being the observant male that he is, he picked up on the slight furrow of your brows and the way you shifted under his gaze. He probably made you uncomfortable with his statement. That was the last thing he wanted to do! “I mean, it’s not a bad thing that you’re here! I’m glad you are-- of course, we’re glad you’re here, especially when the rest of them come. I don’t mind waiting, a-as long as you want to!” Izuku stumbled over his words, internally cursing his nerves whenever you graced him with your presence.

You silently watched him, the slight hue of pink adorning his freckled cheeks, darkening the longer you peer into his glistening emerald eyes. The corner of your lips slightly tugs upwards, finding his tangent to be sort of endearing. “I can call Mina and ask where she and the others are?” you mentioned quietly, his lips shutting hastily as he abruptly stops talking. Giving you a slight nod, you pull your phone out, calling Mina and putting the phone on speaker, walking closer to the greenette so he can hear.

“Hello?” the voice beyond your small device sounds deep and groggily. 

“Hey, Mina? Did you just wake up?” you playfully inquired with bright eyes, the slightest bit of hopefulness peeking through your irises as you waited for her response. The thought of spending more time with Midoriya, only the two of you, sent a zoo rampaging through your chest with excitement or nerves, probably both. Your eyes quickly flutter to the male beside you. He must’ve noticed you staring because the jade of his eyes flicker to you, the corners of his large eyes crinkling into his gorgeous eye-smile. 

“Ah,” you squeak, turning back to your phone. “Deku and I are already here. We’re waiting for you guys.

“Oh,” you swore she said ‘perfect’ under her breath but dismissed the ridiculous thought. “Wonder why you two are so early. I texted you two, saying to be there for 1:30.” You squinted at your phone. You were sure she texted you for 12, no, you were positive, you even double-checked when you woke up this morning. “But that’s fine! You two can just wait for us at 2:00!”

“2:00? But you just said 1:30.”

“Oh well, would you look at the time! We’ll be there for 3:00!” With a squeal, Mina ended the call, and you two were left staring at the black of your screen. Still trying to grasp onto what the hell just happened and what time everyone was supposed to meet up; was it 1:30, 2:00, or 3:00? Suddenly Midoriya speaks up. 

“W-we can walk around for now until they come. O-only if you want to! No pressure!” He blurted, trying to find anything to weasel out of the awkward silence that fell over the two of you. 

With a downturned head, you mumbled a ‘sound good.’ That’s why the two of you began your afternoon walk around town, side by side. You two fell under a comfortable silence after asking about each other’s day yesterday. A gentle wind rustled his curly green hair, and his green eyes reflected the glare of the sun, making them almost glow. Biting your lip, your eyes darted from him, saving yourself the embarrassment of being caught staring again. 

It was then you realized that the two of you ended up near your favorite shop. Without a second thought, you wrapped your fingers around Midoriya’s wrist, “Deku! It’s my favorite store we have to go in!” you gushed, eyes sparkling and smiling wide as you pulled him along. 

Izuku’s entire face bloomed with a bright, radiant red that spread to his neck and ears. His large, viridescent eyes shot over to yours, but you were too busy pushing the door open and basking in the store’s comfortability. It had everything you could ask for: clothes, accessories, and food. 

The glinting of silver caught your attention.

Walking toward the jewelry as if you were under a trance, you picked up the thick metal ring—the flustered boy following close behind. 

“Deku, I think these would be perfect on you.” With your palm turned outward, obediently, Midoriya held out his hand to you, curious as you slid the ring over his scarred finger. “And these too,” you mumbled mindlessly, placing more onto him. 

When you finally finished, you marveled at your artwork, rubbing your fingers over his, feeling the cold metal against his scorching and clammy skin. 

Wait. 

You froze, hand in hand, peering up into wide eyes and freckled cheeks lighting up with the darkest dusting of pink you’ve seen so far. “S-sorry,” you apologized with a shy smile gracing your lips, exhaling a nervous chuckle, hoping you hadn’t just made things awkward by holding your crush’s hand. His sweaty fingers twitched against your own, momentarily mesmerized by the feeling of your digits around his before they slowly unwrapped from him.

“No, it’s fine!” You blinked at him as he blurted out, grasping back onto your fingers, interlocking them. Izuku blushed wildly, realizing that he’d just gotten way too ahead of himself. He must have sounded so desperate right now! 

“T-they look good. This is good,” he said, but his irises were locked onto your woven hands. 

You don’t know if it was the comfortable atmosphere or the way Izuku’s eyes shimmered with beautiful greenery, but you had the sudden urge to confess, and so you do. 

“I like you, Izuku.” Squeezing your clammy hand around his, you avoided eye contact. 

“I like you, too, (Y/N). I cherish our friendship.”

“Oh…” You deflated slightly, and Midoriya saw your disappointed expression. Friendzoned. “Yeah, me too,” you sigh, pulling your hand from his grasp and turning away. The possibility of your relationship with the male sunk faster than you could have imagined, feeling like the biggest idiot for even thinking that he may feel the same way. 

He was blushing! But he does that with everyone, you knew that. So why did you think--

The gears started turning in Izuku’s head as he helplessly watched you make your way to the exit. 

“Wait!” He suddenly called out.

You stopped, a bit startled by his sudden outburst, completely forgetting that he was still there, and overwhelmed with your solemn thoughts. You turned around, swallowing the knot in your throat. 

“Yes?”

Izuku gulped, feeling his palms sweat. 

“W-well… I-- um…” he started, feeling his cheeks flush a dark crimson red. “I-I like you too,” he declared, deciding to force it all out at once. “I thought when you said you liked me, you were talking about our friendship. I never imagined you to confess to me. Although I hoped-- dreamed that you would… I never thought it would come true.” Midoriya shut his eyes tightly, holding his breath as he braced himself. Maybe you’d reject him now for hurting you, or his confession opened your eyes that you don’t actually like him. 

You blinked, jaw slack, as you processed this new information before wrapping your arms around him, surrounding his stiff form in a tight hug, completely forgetting about your surroundings. 

“I’m so glad,” you whispered, tightening your arms around him. 

“Y-you are?” He croaked, his wide emerald gaze flickering to your lips without thinking, feeling his mouth go dry, and your eyes doing the same. 

“Can I help you two with anything?” the worker appeared, startling the two of you and parting hastily.

When the two of you arrived at the diner hand-in-hand, one glittering with fingers full of rings. You can imagine the sound of relief exhaled from their lips as their plan to get the two of you together worked. 

A/N: I now cannot stop thinking about how fine Deku would actually look with rings 😳 and I’m not even a Midoriya simp y’all 🙈

Taglist: @succulent-momma​ (shoutout to this beautiful baby for wanting to be tagged on every single one of my works, I love you 🥺)

[bubbashawn]

A Million Times

author: So here’s that piece I was talking about with reuniting exes and this one anon (bless your soul) was quick to choose an angsty end. So bear your hearts out, hope you love it and I hope I succeeded in breaking you. Any feedback is appreciated and I love responding to your reactions because they make my day. All the love honey ❤️

synopsis: You and Shawn have history but now you have fears that you didn’t have before. You don’t fall in love once but a million times.

warnings: 1.9k of angst. Okay like this is not my brand and I won’t make you smile by the end. So sorry.

“Shawn?”

There was no way. This man was supposed to be in Los Angeles, not that you cared. It wasn’t possible for him to be here at this little cafe on the corner of Adelaide and Portland street. But you saw his curls peeking up above the two people in front of you in line. You passed it off at first but then you saw the lightbulb on the backside of his bicep and you knew that if you went up on your tippy toes you’d see the cursive “A” hidden behind his ear. Shawn Mendes was definitely in Toronto, 2 blocks from your building but 2 miles from his. This wasn’t even the greatest cafe in the city according to most folks, but you had always favored this almost claustrophobic building and Shawn knew that.

He had checked his Armani watch every minute since he woke up this morning. You had always claimed to not have a schedule because they stress you out but he had noticed when you were together that you walked into forget me not cafe and baked goods shop every morning at 8:45 am giving you time to order and rush into your class that was closer to downtown. So he had rushed out of his condo at 8:30, parked at 8:40, and was in line just as you opened the door at 8:45. Just like clockwork, he knew you probably wouldn’t try to talk to him. Honestly he’d be shocked if he had the courage to glance back at you. Shawn knew you were the most perfect girl to ever grace his life and he fathomed how he had charmed you daily. But there you were. Calling his name.

“Shawn?” You raised your voice to get his attention.

“O-oh, um hey.”

He was still a dork. It didn’t matter that he was a Grammy-nominated artist or that he had over 56 million Instagram followers. He was still a dork who stumbled over his words. You kind of wish he had changed drastically in the 10 months you two have been separated because maybe if he was a new person you could pass by him like two acquaintances would, a soft smile and then carry on with your day. But he was your Shawn, layered hoodies and all.

“So, how’ve you been?” He interrupted your staring emitting a blush he’d miss far too much.

“Good. Yeah good, and you?”

“Everything is a little crazy,” he was still smiling at your flushed cheeks, “working on a new album.”

“Am I featured? Breakup songs and all, eh?”

His face dropped but you didn’t regret bringing up the breakup. You were acting too close to Shawn, like old friends and not like he was a boy who broke your heart.

“Nothing crazy,” he watched your features, “a couple of sad songs, but nothing angry.”

Shawn could’ve easily written an entire breakup album seeing that half his notebook was just his scribbles on heartbreak. But he couldn’t do that to you, he broke up with you because you were falling out of love with each other. He didn’t know how it happened and he didn’t know how to fix it, so he ended it. Dumb, he knows.

“Well, um it was nice talking to you,” you shuffled awkwardly noticing Shawn was now the front of the line, “I think it’s your turn to order.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle while you giggled at his stupidity. You just watched him and even though you’d hate yourself later for letting yourself enjoy Shawn’s presence, at that moment you couldn’t find it in you to care.

“Well,” Shawn received his drink and you knew this encounter was ending, “I hope the album goes well, I’ll give you a couple streams.”

“Thanks.”

He stayed standing there, his chocolate muffin and coffee ignored by his side. You glanced up at him and caught his head quickly shifting away from staring down at you.

“So,” his eyes shot down to you, “bye.”

“I’ll just wait with you.”

“Shawn,” you were smiling at your feet even if you’d never admit it, not like you had to, his matching grin told you he knew, “I don’t have time for a sit down chat before class. And honestly I can’t do this small talk thing with you.”

“I’ll walk you to your first class,” he tried again.

“I’m just going to grab an Uber.”

“Let me drive you,” he pointed to his Jeep parked on the side street that you could see through the windows of the cafe, “it’s free and we can talk, for real.”

“I don’t know, Shawn.”

“Please? Just the 10 minute drive and then you’ll never see me again if you don’t want to.”

But you did want to and that’s how you found yourself nodding as the barista took your order. She definitely wasn’t looking at you but at the tall handsome boy next to you, you couldn’t blame her. You barely had time to take your tea from her grasp before Shawn grabbed your freehand in his.

“Shawn!” He glanced back at you, “I swear if you make me spill my drink you’re dead.”

“M’sorry, just a little nervous. I’m not thinking straight I guess.”

At least you still made him as nervous and he made you. Shawn opened the door and put his breakfast in the backseat before offering his hand as you climbed into the familiar passenger seat. You could’ve easily slid in without the assistance but his hands were always warm when you clasped them and they provided comfort. His hand slipped out of yours just as quickly as you had taken it, giving you a tight squeeze before releasing completely.

“Alright,” he slipped into the driver's seat, “you have 10 minutes.”

“10 months of explanations shoved into 10 minutes, jeez okay.”

His hand had shifted from the steering wheel, to his lap, and finally resting in the center console. It was strange seeing it there and not being able to hold it in your own. You wondered how often his hand had traveled towards the passenger seat before realizing you weren’t there anymore. That he wouldn’t be able to brush his fingers against yours ever again.

“I think we fell in love too fast,” he glanced at your profile, “I think we were so obsessed with wanting to be in love that we forgot that we had to love each other before we could be in love with each other.”

“Sha-” he grabbed your hand to silence you.

“I only have 10 minutes, Y/N. So let me say this and then you can fight me on it as much as you please. Okay?”

“Okay.”

His hand hadn’t moved from yours, instead you found your fingers intertwining with his.

“It wasn’t that I fell out of love with you because I’m absolutely in love with you. It’s just that I couldn’t love you the way you deserved because we jumped into it. I’m not sure I’m making sense,” you squeezed his hand like he had done minutes ago, “but you have to know that I want to fall in love with you again and again. And this time I want to do it right because you’re it for me, you’re the last person I’ll ever love.”

“Shawn, I love you too,” he grinned at you, “but what if we mess up again? What if you really did just fall out of love with me? And now you want to fall in love again? I don’t think I could handle falling in love with you only to be heartbroken again and again. It doesn’t seem like a beneficial situation.”

You watched the smile fall from his face and suddenly he looked the same way as he did 10 months ago in his condo. You remember watching his face pale as you hurried past him to pack your stuff away. Not wanting Shawn to come knocking at your door with a box. That would’ve hurt too much. But now he had the same hurt look in his eyes as he tried to digest the fact that he had lost you for good this time, he wouldn’t be able to show up at your cafe and beg to talk. He was no longer allowed to interlock your hand with his. You were not his to hold anymore, you just weren’t his.

“We’re almost at your building,” the 10 minutes were nearly up.

The rest of the ride was torture you wanted to grab onto Shawn and never let go but as his hand slipped out of yours to change the gear of the Jeep into park you knew it was time to let go. He’s an unknown variable. You couldn’t love him when he could really just fall out of love with you.

“You know,” you looked out the window when he started speaking again, “I love you so much. Please let me love you.”

“I can’t, Shawn. So let’s, um let’s leave it at that.”

“Okay,” he just kept looking at you and his eyes were full of tears, normally you’d cup his cheek and wipe them away but you weren’t at a place to do that anymore, “okay, yeah. I-it was nice seeing you again.”

“You too, Shawn. You too.”

You opened the door of his car and slipped out. You turned your head slightly to offer a heavy heart smile. He slipped out of the car and quickly grabbed your hand in his, his body this time moving faster than his head.

“Shawn,” you squeezed your hand against his, “what are you doing?”

“Just, um just give me a minute, eh?”

“I can’t keep doing this with you, you get that right?”

“Yeah, yeah. I just need to be here with you for a moment.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and held his head close to your shoulder. Your lips pressed to the curls behind his ear, next to his tattoo. He was pulling at your heartstrings but you couldn’t put yourself in a situation where you were bound to be hurt again. Even if Shawn promised otherwise. You loved him and he loved you but maybe you couldn’t be in love anymore despite what you both wanted. You’d run into Shawn months from now, you were sure, and you would smile at each other like long lost lovers who would be happy in a different time. You’d fall in love with someone and he’d do the same but you were positive you’d fall in love with Shawn again and again. And maybe he’d love you too in this future. That’s what made pulling away a little easier.

“I love you.”

Shawn pressed his temple to yours, as your hand was held to his heart by his hand.

“I love you too,” you smiled, “I love you too.”

You walked away and Shawn just watched. His teary eyes burned into the back of your head. It hurt so much to walk away from him but your inexperienced heart wouldn’t be able to handle another heartbreak. You were protecting yourself when you walked away. It was the wrong decision, you knew that much, but it was the only choice you could handle.

Shawn was the unknown variable in your life and that scared you but not as much as the thought of losing him. Yet, when you turned back having every intention of running down the 43 steps of stairs you had counted, Shawn was already in his beloved Jeep. And he was driving away because you had walked away. Because you were scared to make the right decision of sharing a life with Shawn.

permanent tag list: @wholesomemendes @fallinallincurls @ashwarren32 @mendesficsxbombay @haute-shawn @turtoix @prncsnee @http-isabela

[aizawaorkuroo]

on the house (chapter 1) - honey cinnamon latte

Ship: Yagi Toshinori x reader

Rated: G

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary: All it took was one decision. One small, spur-of-the-moment decision that set off chain reactions. One little, free drink changed your life. It led you to the kindest man you've ever met. Yagi Toshinori.

Warnings: none for now! but smut in later chapters!

AN: Reader has a minor healing quirk! Highkey nervous about posting my writing for the. first time on this blog, but uhhhhh, so be it. Also my first time writing bhna 🥺 Feautres two original characters!

OTH Masterlist

______________

Cool, morning light pours through the large windows of Sweet Bean Cafe. You stifle a yawn as you wait for your cup of coffee to finish brewing. Save for the hypnotic dripping into your mug, silence fills the cafe as you watch the world wake up. 

You’ve worked here for quite a while now, but this was still one of your favorite moments of the day. It’s as if a sense of peace weaves its way through the city, despite whatever damage was done over the night. You tear your gaze away from the outside world to fix your coffee. You shut your eyes and inhale deeply, the scent sending a jolt down your spine. You were going to finish this cup before the morning rush, so help you, god.

You sip your drink and continue to watch the city sleepily awake. You finish your cup and look at the cat clock on the wall. 5:40. A jolt of panic seizes you. Twenty minutes before the cafe opens. You turn to look back at the empty kitchen behind you and let out a sigh. Still just you. If Aiko and Suga are any later there’s going to be hell to pay. You’re not paying them to sleep in. You’re sure as hell not paying them to leave you alone during the morning rush. 

Anxiety prickles at your stomach as you watch the minutes tick on by. You needlessly adjust the display of baked goods you had already made and set out. Normally Suga would be doing this, and your nose scrunches up at the thought. As you lean on the counter thinking about no other employees would work the opening shift, you hear the back door slam open. Your head dips, and you let out an exhale. 

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT! I SWEAR!” Aiko’s bell-like voice rings out through the cafe. You turn and cross your arms, quirking a brow at her. Both of your late employees are standing in the kitchen by the back door. Aiko’s hair is tied back haphazardly, her horns and skin a bright cherry red. She’s breathing heavily, and she drops into a nearby chair. Suga doesn’t look much better, as he leans against the counter, trying to maintain his composure. You roll your eyes.

“I truly thought you were both going to leave me alone for the busiest shift,” you say, faux worry dripping off your words. Suga turns to look at you, a small twinkle in his eye. 

“We would never,” he gasps, holding his hand over his chest in fake shock. “There’s nothing crueler than being left alone to open.” Aiko rises to her feet and nods in agreement with a laugh. 

“Left alone, to open? You must think very little of us.” False sincerity floods her tone, and you bark out a laugh.

“Okay, okay you brats. Get ready to open.” 

While the three of you had mainly been joking, the morning rush is no joke. Mustufu was a busy city. Not only was it full of everything a regular city had, but Mustufu also boasted the esteemed UA High School, and with it came all sorts of people.

You unlock the front door and wait behind the register as you watch the seconds go by on the clock. 5, 4, 3, 2, - a bell rings as the front door opens. You smile warmly at your first customer.

“Good morning! Welcome to Sweet Bean Coffee! What can I get you?”

______________

The first thirty minutes is fine. It lulls you into a false sense of security. It tells you that this is fun, you like this job. But it’s the next hour that always gets you. You and Aiko work the front, while Suga handles the kitchen and baking. Owning this cafe had always been a dream of yours, but it had come at the cost of a lot of hard work.

Paying off your debt had come at the cost of oven burns, scalding coffee, and many sleepless nights spent baking. While you loved to tease them, Aiko and Suga were absolute gifts, and they celebrated with you when you properly owned Sweet Bean Cafe. But it’s moments like this that remind you that the work isn’t done. Actually running this cafe takes time and effort. 

The bell rings and you hear Aiko squeal in excitement. You glance at the clock. 7:30. Ah, right. 

You turn to greet your regular customer with a smile. 

“Good morning Mr. Aizawa! What can I get for you?” He grunts in greeting. 

“A black coffee.” The usual order. You can’t stop the small smile that tugs on the corners of your mouth. As you count out his change, Aiko hands him his coffee and beams at him. The first time the Erasure Hero showed up at Sweet Bean, Aiko had frozen. She stared, jaw on the ground, at her favorite hero, as he ordered a black coffee. 

He had begun to turn up more frequently and thankfully, Aiko no longer stopped functioning in shock. Instead, she gets almost unbearably excited. You hand Aizawa his change and punch his rewards card with a small smile.

“Good news, next one’s free Mr. Aizawa!” He nods before leaving, offering nothing else but an unenthusiastic wave. You take the next customer's order before shaking your head and turning to Aiko. 

“I don’t get it Aiko. He’s so, well, not like you at all.” She laughs as she begins to brew another drink. 

“I’m not trying to date him or anything! I just think he’s really cool. We’re lucky to have him as a hero,” she says, sounding sincere for once. You hum in agreement at her words. 

The morning rush ends before you know it, and the rest of the day begins to slow down. At around 3:00, Aiko chips her goodbyes before rushing out the door to make it to her afternoon classes. With no other employees scheduled for today, it would just be you and Suga. But after the morning shift, it was nothing the two of you couldn’t handle, especially with Suga in the kitchen.

As business slows, you shift to look outside. A stream of cars and people pass by. Everyone with their own stories and dreams. It's impossible to ignore the content that's growing in you. You sigh softly, a warmth settling itself in your chest.

“What’s up, boss?” You turn to look at Suga, giving him a confused look. “You’re, uh, glowing. Gonna bless more beans?” he asks jokingly. You roll your eyes before looking down at your arms. Sure enough, your body is indeed glowing. An exhale makes its way through your lips as you focus on stopping the warmth that’s trickling through you.

“No, I finished blessing the coffee beans this morning while you and Aiko were both probably sleeping.” Suga looks embarrassed and rubs the back of his head. “I’m just feeling…” you trail off and tap the counter, searching for the right word. “...at peace, I suppose.”

He makes a noise of affirmation and gives you a small nod. Wordlessly, he goes back into the kitchen, and you turn to the espresso machine, creativity taking hold of your mind. 

As you experiment with different syrups and garnishes, you can’t help but be thankful that your quirk works on food, including coffee beans. Every morning, you would “bless” the beans, as Suga jokingly said. It made the coffee take on minorly healing properties and left your customers feeling good.

The time passes pretty quickly as you mess around with different potential flavors. After deciding that there’s potential in the vanilla and lavender you turn around, and the sky is shifting into soft pinks and calming oranges. You can’t help but grin as the bell rings and you see the Erasure Hero enter the Sweet Bean once again. But he’s not alone. That’s different. 

The man next to him is tall and lean, with yellow hair that blooms behind him and frames his face. His face is gaunt, and his cheekbones are so sharp you could cut yourself on them. His bright blue eyes bore into yours, and warmth floods your stomach. He looks both frail and strong, exhausted and wired, intense yet relaxed, a series of oxymorons you could get lost in. Realizing you’re staring, you tear your gaze away from the stranger towards Aizawa. 

“One black coffee Mr. Aizawa?” you ask with a brow quirked. He nods.

“Don’t forget, it’s free this time,” he murmurs as you fix his order.

“Ya know, you could get something much nicer,” you laugh. “Your kid, Sato, he uses his free item on one of Suga’s cakes.” He grunts, and as you turn to hand him the cup his nose scrunches.

“This is good enough.” You roll your eyes before turning back to look at the strange man next to him.

“And, uh, what can I get for you?” you ask, trying to ignore the nerves in your stomach. He turns his intense gaze to the menu and grimaces. When he looks back at you, the air feels far too warm.

“There’s a lot of choices. Anything you recommend?” His voice rumbles through the air, sending a small chill down your spine. You feel paralyzed under the weight in his gaze, and you freeze. He shifts uncomfortably as you rack your brain for words.

“I uh, the- the honey cinnamon latte. That one. I like that one.” He chuckles lightly before nodding.

“In that case, I’ll have one of those.” You turn at his response and focus on making his drink. What is wrong with you? This complete stranger is turning you into a mess. 

Once his drink is ready, you offer it to him without meeting his eyes.

“Thank you very much, how much is it?” His tone is warm, and it makes you flush. Making a rash decision, you offer him a smile.

“Don’t worry about it, sir! It’s on the house!” you say in what you pray is a regular voice. Your gaze meets Aizawa’s, and you see him glare at you as his face slips into a look of betrayal. He’s been coming here for a while now, and you’ve never offered him something on the house.

Your body heats up as you look back at the tall man in front of you. He looks a little embarrassed at the gesture. 

“That’s very kind of you, but I’m alright with paying.” He pulls out his wallet, and you scramble in a panic before bowing your head. 

“Oh no, it’s alright! You are Aizawa’s guest. He was using his reward, and the coffee he ordered was such a small price so I promise it’s okay!” When you look up, both men are watching you carefully. Your stomach twists in knots as you begin to regret your spur of the moment decision.

There’s gotta be a way out of this. You evaluate your next potential actions, and as you're about to speak, you’re cut out by a cry coming from the kitchen. The mounting tension shifts into a collective confusion. 

“Suga?” You hesitantly ask. “Are you alright?”

“Ah, sorry Y/N!” He calls out. “I burned my hand! Do ya think you can help me out?” You grimace and cross your arms. 

“We’ve got burn ointment in our first aid kit. Can’t you use that?” Self-conscious blooms in you at the thought of using your quirk in front of customers. Suga crosses the threshold to the storefront, clutching his raw hand. 

“I was in the middle of something and the ointment’s gonna take too long,” he whines. You exhale and roll your eyes before you move to hold Suga’s injured hand. 

Ignoring the mildly curious stares from behind you, you shut your eyes and focus on the energy inside of you. Warmth floods through your veins before reaching your palms. You open your eyes as your hands begin to lightly glow. Suga shoulders visibly sag as he relaxes. You focus on getting a grip on the warmth and buzz you feel in your hands. The glow fades, and you release Suga’s hand.

“Thanks, Y/N! I’m feeling pumped now!” He clutches his hand before heading back to the kitchen in determination. When you turn around, you meet the curiosity you felt on your back head-on.

“It’s a basic healing quirk. It makes my hands warm and uh, makes the target feel pretty good.” You wring your hands nervously. They both appear to be calculating you, their eyes distant. Aizawa is a teacher at UA, so that makes sense. Perhaps the other man works there too.

“Anyways, please enjoy the drink!” You turn and make yourself busy making unnecessary adjustments to the espresso machine. What has gotten into you? 

“Thank you very much, y/n!” The stranger says in a steadfast tone. You freeze at the use of your name, before looking over your shoulder and smiling. 

“Of course! Please come again!” 

As soon as they exit, you groan and bury your face in your hands. You hear footsteps coming from the kitchen and Suga’s voice wafts through the air gently.

“Are you okay?” You lift your head and look dejected at him.

“I am an absolute fool who has no self-control, Suga,” you bemoan. His eyes widen as your recount of the events turns into a spiral. Oh boy, something certainly had you in a frenzy. 

______________

Toshinori furrowed his brows, as he and Aizawa returned to the street. Something had felt off about that entire interaction. As if reading his mind, Aizawa begins to speak.

“That was...strange.” The taller man turns to look at his friend.

“What do you mean?”

“She's not normally so...flustered. I’ve been coming here every morning for a while now, and occasionally after classes end too. She’s normally a lot calmer, less flustered,” he says in a calculating manner. Toshinori hums in response. So it wasn’t all in his head. 

“And she’s never given anyone something on the house without a rewards card,” Aizawa continues, his eyes narrowing.

“Well, she said that-” Toshinori begins, but is cut off by Aizawa’s cutting stare.

“Don’t be stupid.” 

“Do you think she was able to recognize me?” Toshinori asks hesitantly. Aizawa pauses for a second, shakes his head, and begins to walk away. Toshinori turns to look back at you through the window. Something tugs at his heart as he sees you in a panic rambling to the baker, Suga he recalled. He ignores the heat that rushes to his cheeks before turning to catch up to Aizawa. 

[kalimagik]

The Moment I Knew

Based off of “The Moment I Knew” – Song by Taylor Swift 

Tom Holland x Reader 

<2k

Warnings: Just Angstyyyyyyy

A/N: This is Pt. 1 of 2 fics that essentially go together, but can be read separately. I’m just now starting to put my writing out on Tumblr and this is my second go and first time posting a Tom Fic! If you enjoy reading it, like, reblog, comment, or even follow! I may be posting for me, but hope you all enjoy it! <3

Read Part 2 here!

*Gif isn’t mine! Credits to owner 

A Few Days Before Y/N’s Party 

“You sure you’ll make it? Your agent will let you off for a few hours to celebrate my birthday?” Y/N asked worriedly as she finished some of the homemade decorations for her classy 22nd party. 

“Alisha said that the interviews and press all finish around 4, so I will definitely be there for the 6 o’clock debut of the beautiful birthday girl!” Y/N could hear Tom beaming through the phone. 

“You promise?” 

“I promise,” Tom reassured Y/N.

“Okay! Yay! I love you! See you in a few days!” Y/N excitedly said as she wished Tom goodbye. 

Day of Y/N’s Party

The lights were all strung, the food was nearly done, and Y/N had put on her sophisticated party dress with a coordinating red lipstick. It was actually Tom’s favorite shade on her. 

Not only was today Y/N’s birthday, but it would be the first time this month that she would be seeing her famous boyfriend. He had been in the country for nearly a week, but had been so busy with press for Far From Home that he hadn’t had any time to see her.

Y/N glanced at the clock. It read 5 o’clock. Her phone had not rang with Tom’s tone all day after his happy birthday call in the morning and Y/N was starting to worry. She thought he would’ve been to her apartment by now. 

ding-dong

Y/N quickly, but as ladylike as possible, rushed to the door. She really hoped it was Tom with his “baby, I’m right here smile.” She knew that her face would like up like a million shining stars if it was him. 

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Haz, Zendaya, and a few of Y/N’s other friends yelled as she opened the door to see their faces. 

Y/N put on her best smile, trying to hide her disappointment. She hugged each of her friends, offered them drinks, and gave the aux cord to Zendaya. 

“Let’s get the party started!” Zendaya hollered as she put on one of her infamous playlists. 

Y/N watched her friends have a good time. She let more people in as they arrived, hoping each time that it was Tom, but each time, she became a little more disappointed. 

She tried her best to enjoy the party, but everything swirled around her in slow motion. She wasn’t really present. She played with her party dress, checked her red lipstick, but she didn’t have anyone to impress. 

“Y/N/N! How’s Tom been?” 

Y/N snapped out of her daze and turned towards her friend, Y/F/N.

“Oh um, he’s been good! Had a lot of press since the movie came out! I’m sure Zendaya and Jacob can attest to that…” 

“Oh yeah! He’s of course the most busy…” Zendaya and Jacob start telling stories, but Y/N zoned out again. 

It just hit her that Z and Jacob managed to make it and they had been doing different events all day as well. Checking her phone again, the analog numbers turned from 7:59 to 8:00, still no Tom. 

The hours seemed to be passing by, but the thing about celebrity and important parties is that they never seem to end. By 10:00, Y/N just wanted to be alone. As she quietly excused herself and walked down the hall to her bathroom, Z, Haz, Sam, and Harry all exchanged looks knowing something was wrong. They grabbed her cousin, Y/C/N and followed her down the hall. 

“Y/N/N? Are you okay?” Y/C/N asked, knocking on the door. She came in, sitting next to Y/N on the bathroom floor, the other four followed her in. 

“Yeah. I’m alright. Just a little overwhelmed. You know how it goes!” Y/N answered, trying not to fall apart. However, a sinking feeling in her stomach started to set in. 

She looks up at Y/C/N, Z, Haz, Sam, and Harry, “He said he’d be here…He promised…” she added, almost hopelessly. 

“If he said he was going to be here, then I’m sure he just got tied up and will be here soon! He’s late to most things because of work.” 

“He said Alisha booked everything to finish at 4, so he would get here before anyone else did. I won’t let it bother me though. It’s fine! Really guys! I swear!” Y/N insisted.

“Are you sure?” Z looked at her sadly. 

“Yes! Common guys! Let’s go enjoy my party! I don’t want to keep everyone else waiting!” 

Y/N stood up powerfully, trying to put on an even better face. She is not an actor though. Her boyfriend is. 

Not fooling anyone who came to check on her, they willingly followed her back to the party. They all continued to have a good time and tried to cheer Y/N up, but everything continued in slow motion around her. She drank champagne, laughed when she was supposed to, and continued to check her lipstick just in case. 

She took a moment around 11:00  to look around at all of the faces at her party. She did love each and every one of them, but in all of the faces, the one missing was the one that meant the most to her. 

At that point, she couldn’t take it. The tears just started flowing. She knew everyone would look at her. But what can you do when you start crying in front of everyone you know? Luckily, Haz caught sight of her first. He got Y/N’s best friend Y/BF/N to steal Y/N away and he took the general attention of the party. 

“hey, hey, hey, Bud, what’s wrong?” Y/BF/N tried to soothe Y/N. 

“He was supposed to be here, Y/BF/N. He promised. I haven’t seen him in over a month and it’s my birthday and he said he would make sure. I just can’t do it anymore. I love him, but I can’t just wait around,” Y/N couldn’t help but sob harder. 

“Y/N/N, I’m so sorry. I know how excited you were for today. Everything looks beautiful and you planned for so long. So, what we’re going to do is make it through this party. We are going to fix up your make-up, get through cake, and then you and I can watch all the movies you want. You can vent, you can scream, you can cry. You will get everything out. Okay? But do not let this ruin your birthday! Okay?” Y/BF/N held Y/N’s gaze as she took a few deep breaths.

All Y/N could do was nod her head in response. 

Y/BF/N  fixed up Y/N’s make-up so that it was as flawless as before and led her back out to the party. Haz was still telling funny stories and Y/N was able to sit back in the circle as if she had never left. 

Haz slightly acknowledged Y/N’s presence and shifted his story telling to a story about her and their friendship. That did make Y/N smile. Even better, he left Tom out of the story. It let Y/N know that she did have a special relationship with the friends she had made through Tom over the last year and a half. 

Y/N began to actually enjoy herself in the last hour of the party, that was until they sat her down, dimmed the lights, and lit the candles of her birthday cake. 

The scene was in slow motion all over again. The dress that she knew Tom would love was no longer comfortable, she didn’t even bother with her lipstick anymore, he wasn’t there to impress. 

She looked up quick enough to smile when all of her friends began singing ‘Happy Birthday to you,’ and as much as she tried to enjoy the moment, there was one thing missing in the entire scene. She couldn’t stop thinking about it as she inhaled to blow out her candles. That was the moment she knew, she just couldn’t keep letting herself get disappointed. 

People started to leave and Y/N’s apartment emptied out. She hugged all of her best friends, including Haz, Zendaya, Jacob, and Tom’s brothers. When she finally shut the door for the last time, the clock chimed, letting her know that it was 12:30. 

She leaned her head against the door as she went to lock the deadbolt. She felt a soft hand rubbing her back. Thank God that Y/BF/N did not leave her alone. 

“Common, why don’t you put on some pajamas. You’ll be so much more comfortable that way,” Y/BF/N urged. 

Y/N followed Y/BF/N to her room and took off her party dress. She avoided all of her baggy clothes that were Tom’s and after taking off her make-up, she flopped into bed. 

“Okay! Movie time! We can watch The Other Woman or Legally Blond. Personally, I feel like we should watch Legally Blond because you are just as strong and powerful as Elle, so it’s fitting,” Y/BF/N rambled on. 

Y/N just nodded her head as she buried herself into her covers, leaving space for Y/BF/N to snuggle in next to her. 

The opening scenes played and Y/N finally started to feel relaxed. That was until her phone started vibrating. She was getting a call. 

“Y/BF/N…It’s Tom…” 

Y/N lifted her phone up to her ear with a simple, “Hello?” 

“Y/N, love. Thank heavens you are still awake. I’m sorry I didn’t make it tonight,” Tom tried to apologize. 

Before he could continue on, Y/N interrupted him, “I’m sorry too. Tom. I just can’t talk about this tonight okay? It’s going to lead to an argument and I just spent my entire birthday party being upset. I will talk to you tomorrow.” 

With that, Y/N ended the phone call and burst into tears on Y/BF/N’s shoulder. The whole night just showed her what she needed to do. Her birthday gave her the moment that she knew.