#first songfic

[legendofzoodles]

Castaways...!

This song is so cute and has been stuck in my head for the past 24 hours. I also pictured Wind, Hyrule and Four singing it while adrift in the Great Sea separated from the chain. Wind turns it into a bonding moment. 

Read on AO3 here

~~~

Blue surrounded the trio from every angle. Their peripheral all blue, save for the brown of their hopefully sturdy raft and the bright green of Hyrule’s tunic strung up on the tiny mast of their boat, tattered fabric swaying in the strong breeze. They sat with their backs against it: Wind, Hyrule and Four, legs crossed with tired arms resting on their knees. Miles over yonder Wind could still see the isolated isle they’d managed to escape from, it’s sandy beaches growing further and further away until it was a yellow smudge soiling the horizon. 

Salty air filled their lungs, calm waves lapped stubbornly just shy of worn leather boots and the slow creaking of old wood sounded underneath. They were alone, drifting in a place unknown and an agonizing watery death awaited them just a few centimetres ahead. 

Wind should be afraid, should be feeling lingering anxiety mounting on itself every second that passed with any sign of help, should be diligently surveying the horizon for even the faintest smudge. Yet, fear and doubt eluded him.

To be fair he was looking carefully for rescuers, his stomach ached and his mouth was drier than the Gerudo desert- a couple days of little to no water and food would do that to anyone. Even a hero.  

That’s the thing, he wasn’t alone by himself, he was alone with friends. Every sigh, every cough, every time a slightly-too-warm damp shoulder nudged his, it was a reminder that they were in this together. 

Smiling defiantly at a blistering sun, cruelly reflected off of deceptively calm water, he started it sing with what little energy hadn’t been sapped away.

“Castaways, we are castaways Ahoy there, ahoy, we are castaways,”

his voice was hoarse and a lot to be desired, but that wasn’t the reason his companions tore their eyes from the monochrome landscape to glance quizzically his way,

“We're stuck where we are  With no house, no car  Castaways, ahoy, we are castaways

We were out at sea on a sailing ship  The rain began to rain and the wind began to whip  We felt the ship tip, it was going down  So we launched our lifeboat so we wouldn't drown.”

“Castaways,we are castaways-”

The tiny sailor spun around when they gleefully joined in, grinning brighter than the glaring orb above. Hyrule smiled back, cheeks slightly strained with effort and Four flashed a toothy grin beneath baggy eyes.  

“Ahoy there, ahoy, we are castaways. On an island at sea Just me, me, and me  Castaways, ahoy, we are castaways.”

Their tuneful SOS song rippled across azure waves and bounced between fluffy clouds floating too high, if they could see the fish swimming below them perhaps they’d catch them dancing. Wind guided them through the lyrics over and over, after each rendition a little vocal flare from Hyrule was added and Four steadily worked out a pretty complex beat, rhythmically tapping the mast. 

A sort of peaceful limbo washed over the group, all unsure of the passage of time, no longer rooted by the sky’s movements but the harmony following the next verse. Maybe they were going mad, and maybe Hyrule was just hallucinating the brown smudge with faint red and white smeared above it. Still, when he pointed hope to the others they all collapsed into laughter, cheering their hearts out, smiles wide and toothy. 

Suddenly bursting with energy, the trio rushed to the edge of the raft and make themselves noticed: Wind waving his arms furiously in the air, to the point of almost falling in, Hyrule digging his blistering hands trying to paddle them forward- ignoring the way they stung- and Four shimmying up the mast to manually wave their ‘flag’, clinging to it despite the splinters nipping his fingers. All happily shouting:

"Castaways! Ahoy! We are castaways!”

Later when they’re rescued...

“Sailor...what’s a car?” Four asked.

Wind shrugged. “Dunno man, those are just the lyrics.”

"I think Wild told me about those," said Hyrule, toweling his hair.

~~~

Thanks for reading! This is my first songfic! Also a little TotK in there-so excited for it!  

Masterlist  

Headcanons: Flora is Feral, Parkour team  

Other stories:

Recovered Regrets (LU)

Smoke Signal (LU Wild x reader)

LU character design ranking: 9th place  

Character analysis: Hero of the Wild part 1  

[hauseofhauhaudidyougethere]

Strawberry Pie (Songfic Drabble - Zhao x Reader x Joongi Han)

Song semi in title Strawberry - from Andrew Montana. I couldn't get the idea out of my head so I had to do this. Happy Valentine's Day!! This is more loosely aligned with my other works but make of it what you want. Goal was to keep this one short and sweet.

*****

Drip……….

Drip....

Drip..

---drop

Blood was gradually pooling and leaking out from what connected Joongi’s knife to the target. The attack was clean, precise, and measured.  All went as well as could have been according to the plan. The target was ordered to be killed the previous day with orders coming from above; Seonhee. The target: an approximately 45-year-old businessman who had gotten too comfortable with speaking of his work. Information security is not to be trifled with and when working with people that have associations with the Geomijul – it is imperative if you value your own life to do and say as you’re told. Regular civilians that find themselves fallen out of the good graces of the organization while actually having no clue just how they’ve managed to evade any legal consequence are unable to know when their demise is coming.

When a target is selected and the plan is created – all factors of the target’s life that are known are ripe for being exploited. Like picking berries from a vine, the speed and ease in which such plans are determined and launched becomes trivial. The murder was going to be framed as a suicide in which the target’s social media accounts had already been compromised and all that was needed for the right posts to be made was the signal from Joongi’s burner phone. Just one text to the number of the operative assigned to wait on him and another signal would be sent off to the one hunched in front of a computer screen inside a dilapidated abandoned cybercafe.

Being a hitman for a day-job, moving the bodies is never any less tiring or less precarious but as he does his job with skill, precision, and pride – there’s never been anything that could be traced back to him.  He knew he would want to be in and out of the target��s hotel room as quickly as allowed so as to not alert anyone to his secret entrance and not be caught; there were people waiting on him at “home” – the loves of his life.  Sending the signal that the target’s life had ended, he quickly set to work in creating the perfect scene.

****

I’ll bake you strawberry pie

Clean the blood and never ask why

I’ll be your alibi

Hide the bodies, change your hair dye

****

Drip……….

Drip....

Drip..

---drop

Rain gently tapped on the roof of You Tian, Zhao couldn’t sleep. He knew Joongi had to be out for his work but it didn’t make his presence any less missed.  His sleeping form wasn’t always but typically he would be in the middle of the three-person sleep pile. There were many days where Zhao and Joongi would wake up first before their lovely [Name] did and quietly laugh about the cat they had.  You were acutely aware of the lines of work both Zhao and Joongi were in, even if Zhao had still taken a step back; he was just as entrenched as he was since his childhood. You never loved them any less and never questioned it.  You understood and the loyalty you had for them was doubled over and returned by both.

Once he knew the opportunity to invite the both of you up to the loft he called “home” above You Tian could present itself – he invested in ensuring the bed was large enough that it wasn’t hazardous for anyone’s backs to sleep. Tight squeezes were fine but it would be all fun and games until someone woke up on the floor. Likely him, likely him – Zhao mastered the art of falling to avoid injury but all of that knowledge and reflexes wouldn’t reflect in sleep.

Being restless wasn’t good so he gradually unhooked his leg from where it had hooked with yours as you shifted in sleep and gently pulled himself down to the wood floor – leaving his blankets over you. The faint lantern from the kitchen counter gave him enough light to orient himself to where he sat his glasses at. His painted jet-black nails had chipped away indicating that it was time for them to be redone. Getting out the rubbing alcohol and finding where he left his color on the bathroom counter; he was getting ready to kill time at the dining table – there was a soft knock at the door. The smell of nail polish had just begun to mingle with the chamomile incense.

It was Joongi. He had begun carrying keys to get into You Tian during the off-hours so Zhao or the poor manager wouldn’t be the only ones that could let him in if you weren’t there too.  Unlocking the loft entrance door,  Zhao was greeted with the sight of his silver ashen hair now slightly overgrown and already begun to visibly spackle with black. Joongi would have to redye his hair before going out again.  He was hungry and he was tired. The bottom of the sky fell out during his escape; drenched in rain he still smelled of blood.  Some of it -clearly not his - was still on his cheek.

Holding the door for Joongi to slide in and discard his boots at the entrance before any greetings could be exchanged – there was rustling and shifting of the last weight covered up by blankets on the mattress.  Arms outstretching it was clear it was more than just readjusting.

The air was slightly but noticeably colder free from the warmth of the bed. Waking up alone only made it easier to notice the coldness as it was always harder to leave if not just one but two people were still lying alongside. They rubbed the sleep from their eyes and pushed up from the bed with eyes adjusting to the dim light. It was 3’ A.M in the morning and the rain only threatened to continue pouring outside.  With a swift movement, they were already up to greet the returning partner by the door. No words needed to be exchanged, Joongi’s coat was already unzipped and handed off to Zhao. Joongi never would go out in public with any of his natural hair color visible and given the lateness of the night, it was easier to step in and assist without any protest – if there ever were any it was simply because he never wanted anyone to go out of their way for him.  Pulling Zhao in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek, they clasped a hand around Joongi’s and began to guide him in the direction of the bathroom.

Pulling a box of his dye, towels, and facial wipes from under the sink, Joongi was already directed to sit on the bathmat; freshly laundered from the evening before he could fall asleep on it and not complain. “Shirt”, his love’s voice brought him back to attention. Looking over to his left, he quickly averted his gaze back towards the shower on his right. On warm nights, especially in the humidity of the summer it wasn’t unusual for all three of you to be sleeping shirtless in the same bed to make the arrangement work and remain bearable for everyone else – even if he was the only one who had to use not just one but two blankets.  He still was surprisingly prone to embarrassment and shy about it with the light flushing forming on his cheeks making a less jarring contrast between his skin and the blood that dried there. Not knowing how to respond to the soft remark of “Cute” that could have missed his ears earlier, he complied. A gray towel was quickly draped around his broad shoulders before his shoulders could be exposed for too long. His face was gently wiped to clean it off with the scent of witch-hazel reaching his nose.

With the hairbrush Zhao had picked out for him to use when staying over (Zhao purposely would buy the cute ones for everyone, if it had a cute design it was in the cart), Joongi’s hair was softly being brushed and divided up with clips to hold them in place. Massaging his scalp while doing so, his love smiled as the tension could be both felt and seen leaving his body with each exhale. Applying petroleum jelly to prevent staining to his face was another way to help ease tension with focus being applied on the temples and the forehead. With all of the necessary steps completed, the mixture of hair dye begun.

At this point, it wasn’t the first time either you or Zhao had helped him dye his hair but keeping the box handy was a good failsafe just to ensure that the job was done right and Joongi wouldn’t have to do it all alone or pay extra for a stylist. Taking the care and time to focus on each strand and section as it was being dyed and developed was one way the three of you could alternate between who was spending time with whom – although there were also times where dying Joongi’s hair became a fun three person activity in which the less active one would focus more on idle conversation or making jokes to see who would crack first if any. In a way, an unofficial system had been set-up where in most instances whoever got the opportunity to help with the dye job split off almost equally unless time and energy allowed. Quiet Sundays were one such instance where it was among one of the most fun times of the day besides meals together.  All Joongi had to do was dry his hair and style it to his usual one once all was said and done.

****

While the two were busy working on the hair dye – Zhao took his restless energy to focus on the kitchen – he could paint his nails while he waited for his two favorite lovebirds to be ready to get some sleep but knowing how Joongi’s day likely had been – fixing something to eat would take priority. The freezer didn’t have a lot of space but frozen strawberries had been on sale and there had been enough hinting around that (Name) was trying to see if he had ever baked any pies. He wasn’t someone who made a lot of desserts that were considered Western but the premade pie crusts he found in the fridge were a quick-start. All he had to do was boil down the strawberries with sugar, lemon juice, and cornstarch to make the filling. He knew Joongi was someone who appreciated less sugar heavy recipes so when it came to desserts – there were times where he would either reduce the sugar or cut it with artificial substitutes; learning how the differences compared and stacked up against one another. As a chef, experimenting with different ingredients kept him on his toes and there had been a growing trend of customers looking for a sweet fix that were trying to monitor their sugar intake.  He didn’t quite understand it but if there was someone who could make something taste the best without having all of the standard or traditional ingredients – it was going to be him.

Whisking together his sugar mixture and cornstarch in a bowl – pouring it over the strawberries that had begun to heat in the pot on the stove top – all of the dishes that could wait until later to be washed were out. He was so glad the manager he hired and the rest of the staff were competent enough to be trusted to run the restaurant if he ever needed to take a step back because he definitely was not going to be up by the evening if he went to sleep now. Turning on the kitchen radio he was lucky enough to have that came pre-installed below one of the cabinets, he turned on the pop radio station and turned up the music loud enough that it could still be heard far enough to the bathroom. Tapping his feet to the rhythm and pacing kept him from falling asleep while waiting for the oven to preheat as the filling began to finish up. With an idea in his head, he took the top pie crust’s lattice and transformed it into hearts.

With enough time passed and all was set to go in the oven – he finally turned his attention to the nail polish that had been left abandoned on the dining table.  Using a fast drying topcoat and reusing the bowl from earlier he could speed up the drying process with an ice bath so he wouldn’t have to worry about the paint getting on anything else.

****

Within 30 minutes, the aroma of the pie baking in the oven had begun to fill the loft. By the time the pie would be done, it would be about 4’ in the morning. Nothing wrong with some pie for an early morning breakfast, right? Pulling out some red Bordeaux wine a customer had praised before and pouring three glasses – all he had to do was stay awake and find little things to do that could occupy time like already fixing up the “fancy” fine china of paper plates and plastic cutlery. He would splurge on the sturdy high quality disposable utensils and lived by using those before actual silverware if he was trying to cut down on dish usage, even if Joongi would look at him a little sideways. If it wasn’t for Joongi’s insistence on always using clean dishes – Zhao and the other lovebird would insist on reusing the same plates or bowls of it was just for themselves and no one else was around to question it. They would both joke he had been spoiled by living a life of luxury having to attend fancy dinner parties for his work from time to time for the sake of maintaining appearances. “Oh, come on doll, would Yeonsu have to worry about what others thought? They’re not gonna bite ya.” “No, I do think he would rather his beloved partners not run the risk of giving themselves food poisoning.”

That exchange ended with Zhao knowing he wasn’t winning this compromise and jokingly going “Tch.. as the Prince of Plates wishes, us commoners will follow by your lead”. With an exaggerated eyeroll, Joongi had gotten the last word, “I didn’t know the Prince of Plates washed dishes but I guess you get to be Chef Court Jester.” It took awhile before their third partner could stop laughing at the idea and mental images that had came to mind. The longer the three of you had been hanging around one another, the more comfortable and adept Joongi had gotten at participating in banter. Going toe to toe with Zhao wasn’t easy so it was a bonus if there was ever an additional ally.

By the time the timer cut the kitchen radio off and the pie had been pulled to cool from the oven – the shortest of the three was proudly escorting the freshly silver ashen-ed Joongi from the bathroom, “Tada! Our man’s brand integrity has been preserved!”.

That was about the truth of it – there had been the playful floating of ideas for other colors like pink or blue but they were all shot down quickly. Apparently, the second Joongi, Joon-gi Han was expressly not one to do other colors and that doing so would be jarring out of the blue but for the sake of temporary disguises or costumes maybe he could consider it had Zhao musing about how long it would take to do rainbow colors and what amount of time would make the process worth it. The frightening thing was he seemed to be giving it serious thought and joked that if Seonhee gave the order for him to dye his hair another color – he would have to oblige wouldn’t he? Zhao when determined was surprisingly thorough in going about seeing it through. He still talked to Seonhee given his semi-in and semi-out status with the Liumang under her control and participated in activities to say the least but him bringing up the idea to her without any prompting was something to picture. She was almost astonishingly receptive to the fact that Joongi had not one but two partners; Joongi wasn’t free from the jokes of there being a “political” marriage to link the Geomijul and the Liumang while also being secretly grateful that he had also found a partner who wasn’t as involved in the underworld. She thought they were interesting enough to enjoy spending time one-on-one that wasn’t spent with their two lovers hanging out as friends. Even the boss of the Geomijul needed a few hours of rest and play. Joongi while grateful they were both close to his boss, still silently prayed they didn’t go feeding her crazy ideas he would have to jump on. He already wasn’t safe from being teased in private about the relationship but her happiness for him was genuine even if it felt like she was more of a protective older-sister for the shorter of the three than him.

“Great job babe, now let’s get our favorite idol some food and into bed – breakfast? I baked a strawberry pie and cracked open this bottle of Bordeaux for us already while you two were busy”

“Day-drinking?”

“If you haven’t sleep isn’t it just about the same day Han-chan? I know you would like some food and the wine is supposed to be a good rec. It’ll keep ya asleep if you have a glass. Long day”

“I mean 4 am is about late at night if you mess with the wording, right?”

“See, they got the idea! Gold star to [Name]”

“Look, he even put hearts on the crust!” Pie and wine for breakfast it was, they couldn’t compete with the excitement on their lover’s face.

****

With dishes in the sink, three had finally retired to bed before the sun ever dared to rise. Zhao found himself in the middle of the sleep cuddle pile and knew he was both loved and appreciated.

[penelopegarcialovebot]

slow dance

spencer reid x gender neutral reader

summary: you're the only person whose brought out this side of spencer since maeve. and when you two are in rossi's backyard, slow dancing to the music from inside alone, it's when he realizes he'd really like to keep you around.

warnings: fluffy talk about relationships, teensy bit of angst about past relationships and self doubt, happy ending tho!!

♬⋆ .˚ now playing slow dance by clairo

a/n: first fic bare with me we're getting there!!

arms tangled around one another, stepping on eachothers feet, whispering sweet nothings together then laughing because you can't take eachother seriously when it's so quiet.

that's been the entirety of your life for the last hour, with spencer. not your friend, not your boyfriend, but some secret third option in between.

"you look nice tonight." he compliments, and you're sure it's for the millionth time tonight, "i don't think i've ever seen you dressed... formally?"

you're not wearing anything particularly fancy, but it's not exactly casual either. again, a secret third option.

there seems to be a theme of that tonight.

either way, you muster up the courage to tease him, "i don't look nice every other night?"

"well, you know that's not what i meant, i just mean, like, especially tonight. y'know?" he rambles as he moves his hands to your waist again.

"i'm just messing with you." you smile back, arms staying wrapped around his shoulders.

finally, the music from inside starts back up, a slower song.

one of the windows in the kitchen is cracked open just enough for the music to be heard from rossi's backyard. more specifically the pretty, fairy light decorated gazebo he loved to talk about whenever he got the chance as if he didn't live in a mansion.

"you look good tonight too. i'd say i never really see you in stuff like this but that'd be a lie." you say, hands running over his chest, tracing the tie tucked neatly into his brown blazer.

"that's not true. i'm not even wearing my converse, you have to admit that's different." he smiles, teasing back.

he was never really good with sarcasm. penelope prides herself in being the one to fix that, but really, something just clicked in him with you.

"but... thank you." he adds, "i tried to dress a little nicer for you."

"didn't try and out-dress me? how kind." you teased again, and he smiles. he loves that little expression you'd get that told him you thought of something witty to say.

"i know, right?" his smile never falters, only growing more as he looks down at you.

it's quiet for a moment, you two swaying back and forth, your head against his chest as he rests his chin right on top of it.

you're not sure if it gets better than this. how it gets better than this, if that.

"i'm glad garcia convinced you to come. maybe because she knew i'd be here." you hum.

"she didn't really convince me. she just... told me you were coming to one for once." he admits, and that makes your heart flutter.

"i don't miss them that much." you lie.

"in your four years at the bau with us, you've come to a total of three. once a year." he say it likes it's a joke, but it's true.

"hey. it's four, now. and if you promise to go to the christmas one, i'll make it five." you reach down to take his hands in yours, squeezing them.

it's true you never really came to these things. you loved the team. of course you did. you were on good terms with all of them. you just didn't trust yourself with alcohol and being in the same room as spencer at the same time. you'd never tell anyone as much, though.

"good. rossi's backyard is prettier in the snow." he replies.

"slow dancing with girls in rossi's backyard a common occurrence, then?" you tease once more, but he takes it at face value.

"me? of course not. i'd never. seriously. just you." his hands squeeze yours once again before moving back to your waist.

"just me." you echo his words. it felt good.

it gets quiet again, and you two are back to the comfort of swaying in one anothers arms. as if there weren't thousands of words left unspoken between the two of you.

what coworkers turned friends slow dance together like this? say things so sickeningly sweet? not ones that were actually just that. coworkers. friends.

it would be laughable, even. because it's not like you haven't seen jj peeking out the window and smile at the sight of you two, or rossi deciding to open the window so you could hear the music to begin with. he wasn't slick, that's for sure.

you weren't one to talk, and neither was spencer.

"what are you thinking about?" he asks, picking up on your silence that goes on longer than you usually let it.

"nothing and everything."

"you can't actually think about nothing. it involves concepts and ideas just to be thinking at all, which is nearly unstoppable unless you're actively stopping it. like if you're meditating right now. and i have a feeling you aren't doing that." he rambles, giving a smartass reply you didn't need, but always appreciated because you'd get to feel his chest lowly hum and hear his voice all at once.

but that's besides the point.

"then everything." you reply, half expecting him to launch the conversation into why that's not humanly possible.

instead, you're caught off guard when you hear, "in a bad way or good way?"

"more good than bad." your hands run over his hair for a moment. curly and oddly soft. he did try a little harder tonight.

"well that's more good than bad." he pauses and continues, voice less... sure, if that was even the right word, "what about, though?"

should you say the truth or lie? because nothing at all would be a lie. but you don't wanna bring up the inevitable when you two are so cozy already.

"us, i guess." you give in. please don't ask further, please don't make this a thing—

"...what about us exactly?" he asks further. makes it a thing. you'd make a comment about mind reading but aren't sure if it'd be appropriate.

"i mean... y'know. we both know. don't we? just... us." you gesture to you two again, before seeing his expression and sighing, "what we are..."

"what we are? as in our relationship status?" he asks, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, "i didn't know it's been on your mind."

it's quiet for a moment, because you both know his question is rhetorical despite it coming out seriously. you both know what you said.

you don't know why this topic holds so much negative weight right now when you could be approaching it with so much more positively. but you're just worrying about one thing: if he's still with the mindset that maeve was the only one for him.

he wasn't the type to play with a girl's feelings, though. you trusted him. it's come with liking him.

"you're overthinking again. i can tell." he brushed a hair through your hair, pulling your head back to his chest.

"you know this stuff isn't easy for me." he adds a little quieter. "at all."

"i know." and you almost say you're sorry for even letting it get this far into the conversation, but you don't.

he rocks you back and forth, cupping your head in his hand. in this position your ears right next to his heart and you can hear how it beats faster when you wrap your arms back around his waist.

"i'll always miss her. but i... i was talking to garcia a few days ago. she reminded me that i shouldn't give up just because of what happened. it's almost like she knew exactly what was going on in my head and it was kinda terrifying to hear but also it helped more than i'd like to admit." he explains.

it was always penelope. the angel of the office.

"with that being said," he adds, unexpectedly, not giving you time to process his previous words completely, "i think she knows how much i actually like you and i never even told her."

oops. guilty as charged—add that to the list of things you'd tell him only after you two were a thing. and not that secret third thing.

"maybe we're not as discreet as we think we are." you smile at the thought.

just as the words leave your mouth, you hear the window open a little more, seeing emily smiling with that i just got caught look before looking back at jj and returning to her with a laugh. talk about comedic timing.

"i like you a lot too, though. it's why i think about us a lot." you add yourself.

"it's just... hard after everything. what if i'm just a string of bad luck? what if something happens to you because of me?" he can't help but start up as he does with certain topics.

"i work in the bau myself, spence. you aren't any more of a threat to me than my daily job itself." you'd tease softly.

the third, but technically only second person he'd let call him that without him cringing.

"i can't argue with that." he admits, nodding, "but you know what i'm talking about. i mean..." he trails off.

"everyone i love has been taken away from me." he says. "i don't exactly have a good track record."

you feel like he's making this out to be he's protecting you when really he's just protecting himself. which makes more sense, now that you think about it like that.

but you also don't really know what to say to that. i won't let that happen. but the both of you know it's a promise you can't guarantee you'll keep.

"say something. anything." he whispers, voice filled with an unfamiliar feeling. anxiety, maybe?

"...i won't let it happen to you again." you mumble against his chest, feeling the way his breath catches in his throat before letting out a shaky exhale.

"you don't know that." he tenses up once more.

"i don't. but i'll try." your grip tightens in his blazer.

"god, how do i say no to you? i can't. the words don't come out." he sighs, almost frustrated. you think it's directed at himself, if anyone, though.

"sometimes i feel like you're nothing but an angel sent down by maeve herself. she'd love you, you know that?" he says and you feel your eyes burn.

"i wish she could've met you." he mumbles, kissing the top of your head, "i wish you could've met a less damaged me. i wish a lot of things, even if the probability of even one, if not all, happening is quite literally 0%." he rambles.

"you're in your head again, spence. too in your head." you point out. he laughs.

"i feel like i always am." he says, a little quieter.

"i don't think you're... damaged." you say, stroking his curly hair again, "you're just hurt. hurting. that's different, to me. that's what i think at least. it's not like you're not getting better."

"too good for me..." he shakes his head, but less defensive this time.

"just think about it, okay?" you say. you remember neither of you explicitly said what it was you were talking about. making it official. but it was implied, right?

"i will. we should get inside." he hums, "don't want you getting any colder in that outfit."

it slips out when you don't intend it to and your heart drops.

"will you be my boyfriend?"

he's quiet, and when you try and pull away to look at him, he holds your head to his chest with one hand. firm but gentle. three words that sum him up perfectly.

"...are you sure?" he first asks, pulling away to look right down into your eyes, hands on either side of your face.

you double down, "of course i am. very sure."

he's just looking down at you now, silently, but you know it's not so silent in that head of his right now. you let him stay in his head for a moment.

"...i still think you're too good for me. but..." he trails off, "yeah. i—just, yeah. i'd really like that."

your lips quirk up into a smile at that, arms still wrapped around his shoulders as they tighten ever so slightly, and you notice how he starts to smile too just from yours.

you see him nervously take his lower lip between his teeth before speaking up.

"can i, er, kiss you?" he asks, studying your face for a moment before his eyes flit up to your own.

you're caught off guard, but give a small yet eager nod, feeling his hands run down to cup your cheeks.

once he has your approval, he's leaning down in the blink of an eye, leaving a small kiss to your lips. this one's gentle, testing the waters.

he takes a brief moment to grasp your reaction, and when he sees it, he leans back down to press a longer kiss to your lips—mouth on yours, tongue running over your lips after you ease into it.

it lasts a bit, his hands on your face before one slips down to your waist and the other to tuck your hair out of your face before resting it on the side of your neck delicately, as if you were glass threatening to shatter.

you two finally pull away, breathing in a series of short gasps and sighs as you feel him press his forehead to yours.

"i hope you know you're gonna be the death of me." he breathes out, caressing the side of your face.

that makes you grin and bring him into another kiss, pulling him down against you.

[muchmossymess]

Loser, Bambi

A radiostar/radioapple/duckiedeer rewrite of loser, baby (as an aroace myself, this is platonic, I think it'd be hilarious to their dynamic) (set after the finale, and let my delusional heart believe alastor cares deep deep deep down)

Lucifer: So things look bad and your back's against the wall

Your whole existence hangs in the balance

You're feeling panicked like you heard the hunter's call

Can't face the world without you malice

You've lost your way, your reputations wrecked

Well me just say, (scoffing) what'd you expect?

Alastor: Excuse me?

Lucifer: You're a loser, bambi

A loser goddamn baby 

You're a fucked up little whiny bitch

Alastor: Now listen here

Lucifer: You're a loser, unlike me

Alastor: What a surprise

Lucifer: You've amused hell's ruler 

If only your shtick was newer 

You're an overlord gone overboard

But you've got company

Alastor: *staticy boo track*

Lucifer: There was a time I thought no one could relate

To the holy things that I cant let go

But lettin' walls down, it can sometimes set you straight!

Can't let the hotels progress plateau 

Alastor: I must admit, that I seem to've grown to care

Lucifer: You aren't the only one with his soul bare

Get outta here man 

We're both losers, bambi

We're losers, it's okay to be a-

Alastor: Psychopathic radio?

Lucifer (out of tune with the song): eeughhhhh…

Alastor: *snickers*

Alastor: I'm a loser deary

To admit it is quite dreary 

But at least I know I'm not alone

Lucifer: You're a loser

Both: Just like me

*tune change*

Lucifer: I've got a habit of creation

Alastor: I've got a knack for devastation, of every lowly sinner I can find

Lucifer: You know what Charlie thinks of that, come on

Alastor: I helped fulfil all of her dreaming

Lucifer: I'm making sure I'm never leaving 

Now that I'm back in her life

Both: I will protect her from all ill meaning

Alastor: You're a loser, Luci

Lucifer: A loser, but just maybe if we

Both: Eat shit together, things will end up differently

Lucifer: It's time to lose some of that loathin'

Lower your mask, let hope in, bambi

Play your card, be who you are

Both: A loser, just like-

Charlie: There they are! They're fucking singing???

[juleslair]

Bruno Week 2024

Day 1: Sway

Kicking off with the first day of BrunoWeek2024 :)

[griddleharkbrainrot]

Does anybody want to read a fem!Charles cherik fic about the pain of spending your life in other people's heads, 1950 insane asylums, and the complicated relationship between womanhood and rage? I'm partway through writing it and need some encouragement

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 7)

The one thing Uzi did not mind about her transformation was her ability to fly alongside N during scavenging missions. He often had to slow down (thrusters will always be faster than manual flying), but it didn't seem to bother him in the least, especially when she was sharing her favorite songs with him over short-range.

And no, it didn't all consist of Nightcore thank you very much. She was sharing the ones she thought he would like.

Of course, N liked all of them, so she probably could blare Nightcore at full volume and he'd like it, but she was still keeping it mostly mainstream, mostly because he seemed to like singing lyrics if he knew them, which was fun!

Because he was good at it.

He nailed nearly every note so long as he was familiar with the song, and it was gorgeous, his voice smooth as butter and just high enough to reach the minor keys without sounding off.

And yes, it did make her core flutter like it was full of a million butterflies, but that was besides the point.

“Hang on, lemme give you this one.” She sent another over to him, her wings flapping above her as they both glided comfortably.

“How many do you have?!” N asked excitedly, although it was definitely in the sense that he was eager to hear all of them and not that he wanted her to stop.

“Years worth of emotional repression leads to years worth of saved angst, what can I say?” She replied, poking a little fun at herself, she pushed ahead as he opened the audio file, scanning the ground for any parts she needed.

This one was a little angry sounding, but the guitar was nice, and there was a woman singing in the background that he wished didn't sound so sad, but it was pretty, at the very least.

“Do you want me to just give you my playlist? I've kinda just been sending you singles from it this whole time.” She fell back in line with him, wings beating above her, wow, he never realized how strong they looked before.

“Yes!” He beamed, being ecstatic to listen to more, it was leagues better than anything he'd ever heard play at the manor, plus he felt as if he was learning quite a bit about her just through her saved songs.

He noted the complete lack of love songs, there were plenty of breakup songs, but it didn't seem that Uzi had either never felt that way about anyone or she may have just not liked the sappiness of them. He wasn't sure, he was kinda hoping for the latter, she deserved someone to make her happy, surely?

“Here. But we can't spend all night doing this, it not really what we're here for…” She sent him a massive folder that was going to take a bit to install, in the meantime. They both flew upwards, trying to spot things from higher up.

“No worries, what are we looking for?” He asked, just replaying the same songs he'd already listened to on repeat, just at a lower volume.

“A hardware store preferably, that explosion melted all my railguns internals… stupid J… pain in my ass even in death.” She added, sounding bitter. He didn't argue.

“Hmm, I think I saw one last night. I can send you the map data?” He offered, not noticing how closely they were flying, he could feel each beat of her wings. The urge to wrap his tail around her hit him suddenly. She wasn't in danger. What was this about?

“Sweet! Yes!” She gave him a thumbs up, and so he sent the map data to her, and she went silent looking it over intently.

And here he was admiring how she could intently focus of his map data while also flying near perfectly again, if he ever needed to revist a location he had to stop flying lest he hit something. Not her though, her mind was so lightening fast. Not just in this, but in everything.

Man his best freind was so cool. And pretty.

She… was pretty. But that was random.

“Yeah, you did pass one, this way!” She did pause in the air for a moment, but only to turn to him and make sure he was following, he nodded, letting her lead him.

Her tail swirled behind her as she kept herself aloft, it was graceful in it's own way, since she had to think more about consciously flying then he did, and so she ended up doing more spins and tricks in the air just by flying normally. It was almost like watching a dance, albeit a bat-like one.

“We're here.” He heard her shout before diving, and he followed without question, landing beside her with a metallic thud in contrast with her graceful perfect landing.

Okay, what the heck was going on with him today?

“Anything specific?” He asked, dusting the snow off himself before it melted and refroze to his chassis. Ignoring the random intrusive thoughts that seemed to be increasing in frequency and intensity.

“Small screws, wiring, oh! And capacitors! Lots and lots of capacitors.” He knew at least what two of those things were at what they looked like, so he nodded and followed her into the blasted out store after beating the snow out of his cap.

Her tail whipped around into a flashlight, pointing it at the rotten shelves and the icesicles hanging above them, a skeleton was at the counter, still in uniform, and still in the position of looking bored.

“Split up? I'll look for the capacitors, you get the screws and wiring?” She turned to him, with the absence of others she always seemed to smile, he gave her a thumbs up and beamed her one right back, before turning and wandering to the nearest shelf, leaving them both alone with their thoughts.

Uzi was already searching deep in the electronic section, trying to find capacitors that weren't completely broken or frozen, with a task at hand her mind was blessedly empty for once, enough that she was humming absent-mindedly whatever song had gotten trapped in her head.

She didn't sing, she didn't like her voice and thought it was too deep for most songs, but humming was fine, if it wasn't done in front of other people. Robo-God forbid someone hear her not being aggro for ten seconds. But here she was alone, and N was on the other side of the store, he couldn't hear her.

And even if he could, it was N. He wouldn't ever make fun of her for anything.

She smiled. At this point trying to deny her feelings was pointless, he made her feel so special, so wonderful. And he was so happy to spend any time with her, whether it be listening to her music or watching a movie or agreeing to visit a baby with her. He was always down, loving every second.

It rubbed off on her, she found herself smiling more, liking her life more, liking herself more. She was beginning to feel less like a freak and more like a person, all thanks to the lovable goofball she called her best freind.

And she wanted to call him more, connect with him more, but… she couldn't be certain he felt the same way. He was always so loving but he was like that with everyone, he cared, and that's just who he was.

So nothing he did proved he liked her like that. Romanticly. Never in a million years did she ever think she would be longing for someone, or even have a crush in the first place, but here she was, admitting to herself that… she was in love. Ew

But at the same time, the way he had been looking at her in the nursery, with a small smile on his face and his eyes digitally half-lidded. He looked… almost like he wanted to kiss her.

But that had to have been her imagination, he'd asked if she felt better right before, maybe he'd just been concerned.

With a victorious gasp she found a whole box of preserved capacitors and quickly stashed them in her bag before going off and trying to find the boy in question, core full of butterflies but also very very heavy.

N had finally finished downloading Uzi's monster of a playlist and was skimming through it while picking up his second box of screws, he doubted she needed this many, but being an overachiever never got him in trouble before.

He fingered the wiring he had in his pocket, feeling satisfied that he'd completed his task and yet still felt anything but.

He was… confused.

Uzi was his friend, his best friend. And yet the more he thought about her the lighter his core got, in a way that was new to him. Well no, that was it wasn't it? It wasn't new.

It was just attached to a new person.

But… he didn't have a crush on Uzi did he? He could form sentences just fine around her, he wasn't nervous or artificially sweaty. He just wanted to be close, to protect her. To be there when she needed him. That wasn't romantic. It was protective! Like all friends should be!

And yet he still felt unsatisfied, like he was missing something.

“Hey! Did you find what we needed?” He heard her before he saw her, bounding up to him with a crooked smirk, her tail twitching behind her and her wings folded against her back. She was cute…

He shook off his thoughts again.

“Yeah! Here!” He he presented the screws and the wire to her with a smile, his tail twitching as her hand grazed his as she took them, no that wasn't a spark you're imagining things.

“Thanks!” You ready to head back? It's going to be morning soon.” She asked, punching his shoulder playfully, a small laugh left his mouth.

“Yeah! And we can listen to music together on the way back!”

“Sure buddy.”

And with that they took off, commenting on songs and cracking jokes about the stupid ones, flying high to get home faster. With each minute he felt himself relax, whatever confusing mess his thoughts were causing right now didn't matter, they were laughing, and she was smiling. He would figure it out later.

“Is… is this song about a potato?” He asked slowly, causing her to snort before devolving into a fit of laughter.

“Y-yeah? I thought it was funny, and I rigged the teachers lounge to play it on repeat once.”

N didn't want to ask why, but he felt that it was a very Uzi thing to do.

“Hey, I might need to crash at your place tonight. Charge is low and I don't wanna pass out on the way home.” As she said that, a little low battery symbol appeared at the top right corner of her visor, showing she wasn't lying.

“Sleepover!” He shouted, making her smile again, he really liked her smile…

“Yeah, whatever.” She rolled her eyes, but her words lacked any sort of bite. There was a brief comfortable silence before;

“Oh… this one's kinda sad.” His face fell at little as he listened. An orchestral swell being out of place in the rest of the playlist.

I am tired of this dream….

Will it ever end for me?

“Sorry, I don't have a lot of happy ones that aren't also sarcastic…” She admitted sheepishly, she probably should find happier songs now that she was thinking about it. She felt happier now, what was the harm? So long that it was only her and N that would ever hear them.

I don't have the will to know…

Can you help me see?

“Oh! Duet!” He hummed happily, that fact alone seemingly making him feel better about it.

Let my body keep you warm…

Let my essence be your breeze.

Oh. This was a love song, and a rather longing one. He looked over Uzi's playlist, this one was added only recently. About three months ago, huh that was around when prom happened.

Can you hear me calling?

Please look out for meeee…

“N! Look!” Uzi shouted and he looked up, the gas giant was being eclipsed by Copper-9s barren moon, causing the entire night sky to be lit up in a burnt umber red. But he'd be lying if he said that was what caught his attention.

Can you set me free?

Will you take my soul away?

Uzi was silhouetted in the light perfectly, sending warm oranges and reds bouncing off her features like she was gazing at a roaring fire, she was hung in the air, snowflakes falling slowly around her, the light turning them to embers dancing in the air. She was smiling, her hands reaching out to touch one of the dancing flames.

Casting me in cold

Bury me in bones

Rest eternallyyyyyy…

He felt all the moisture in his mouth evaporate on the spot, and any further thought through his processors die. If flying wasn't an automatic process, he would have fallen from the sky in shock.

She looked beautiful.

Will you take me home?

Can we see the moon again?

Dancing in the dark

Till we fall apart

I can't end this dream...

Next ->

[saphstories]

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic

A ShadowxAurora One Shot

Shadow never meant to keep it. With the limited space in his apartment, a piano wasn't exactly practical. But he'd seen it sitting on the street while on a run, a pathetic little spinet that apparently wasn't worth the effort for repair according to the owner, so it sat in wait for the dump truck.

Omega thought he was nuts when Shadow had used Chaos Control to transport the piano into the apartment, and perhaps he was. The instrument had definitely seen better days, and it would take more than a simple tune up to get it in pristine condition again.

That didn't stop Shadow from shoving the spinet against the wall between his mattress and the front door and then going out to purchase the necessary items for piano repairs.

The spinet became Shadow's passion project over the next several weeks. Any spare moment between his mercenary work with Omega and dates with Aurora, Shadow could be found with the spinet piano, painstakingly doting over the instrument to set it to rights again.

"You never told me you can fix instruments." Aurora had noted once, sitting on the little bench with her legs swinging while half of Shadow's body was inside the back of the spinet.

"Never came up." Shadow had grunted.

"Where'd you learn?" She'd pressed.

Shadow had shrugged. "I did a lot of things while off world, Light. Sometimes I was asked to fix things, and music is universal." Aurora had accepted that answer, and Shadow minutely relaxed.

No way he was EVER going to tell her that some aristocrat across the galaxy had taken fancy to him and tried to get his attention by breaking her piano, just so he'd come and fix it. It was the fastest he'd ever fled a planet. Omega still hadn't let him live it down.

The plan for the spinet once he'd finished repairs was simple enough: take it to the resale shop and get a decent sum of cash for it. He'd contacted the shop, gotten a good offer, and was set to deliver and receive his rings, but when he arrived and saw the buyer...a mother and son duo, the latter whom was whining about how much he HATED piano lessons and was currently and carelessly swinging a baseball bat around in his fit....Shadow took his piano and left.

No way was Shadow going to let all his hard work repairing his baby go to waste on some ungrateful brat that lacked basic appreciation. So, the little spinet piano became a permanent fixture in his apartment.

Shadow had never considered himself a musician of any sort. He was a warrior, a mercenary, the Ultimate Lifeform, a guardian. Music...required a certain softness that Shadow, with all his broken pieces and jagged edges, simply did not possess. But, somehow, that didn't matter. Sitting at his little spinet, gingerly filling his apartment with the soft tones of the classics centered him with a kind of peace he rarely ever achieved...with one exception. When he played, Shadow could pretend that was all there was. Just him and his spinet, creating something beautiful together. It was almost magical, if he believed in such a thing.

Shadow huffed a quiet chuckle, gently resting his hand atop the keys but not pressing down, his thoughts drifting towards the other almost-magical thing in his life. Honestly, if it magic was a thing, Shadow could believe it, because of her. The way she pranced through life, with such light and arms wide open, eager and excited for whatever came her way...could anything else but magical describe his precious Light?

Almost without his command, his fingers gently drifted across the spinet's keys, a delicate melody that swirled and danced through the air. Shadow sighed.

"Though I tried before to tell her

Of the feelings I have for her

In my heart.

Every time that I come near her

I just lose my nerve as I've done

From the start."

How many times has Shadow looked into those emerald eyes, seen that smile, and choked? It was three simple words, why was it so difficult? He's made peace with the past, hasn't he?

"Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on."

A sniffle behind him had Shadow whirling around, Chaos Spear halfway formed in his hand and a snarl on his muzzle, when those same piercing emerald eyes damp with tears stopped him dead. Shadow gulped, his ears flattening against his head. Damn. How long had she- Shadow made get up, averting his eyes as embarrassment colored his cheeks rosy red.

And then she's right there, pushing him back down on the bench with pleas of "Please don't stop, don't mind me-," and she's still looking at him with those eyes, pleading and wet, her body pressed tight against his side, lips protruding in the most pitiful pout...

Chaos, he was screwed, wasn't he?

Shadow sighed and tapped her nose with his finger. "You will say nothing to anyone about this." He commanded, and tried to ignore how distracting that beaming smile was in order to return to the piano. He gulped, frozen with his fingers in position. He knew his voice was not what anyone would call gifted, hers was so much better, and he chanced a glance down to his shoulder where she'd laid her head. She smiled at him again, eager and encouraging, and Shadow gulped and resumed playing.

"Do I have to tell the story

Of a thousand rainy days

SInce we first met?

It's a big enough umbrella

But it's always me

That ends up getting wet.

Every little thing she does is magic

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on."

Shadow rested his cheek against the top of her head, mindful of the short grouping of quills that acted as bangs, closing his eyes momentarily and just breathing.

"I resolve to call her up

A thousand times a day

And ask her if she'll marry me

In some old fashioned way.

But my silent fears have gripped me

Long before I reach the phone.

Long before my tongue has tripped me

Must I always be alone?"

Her arms squeezed him gently, reassuringly, around his middle, and he pressed a kiss to her head in response, smiling at the growing damp spot on his shoulder.

"Every little thing she does is magic,

Everything she does just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Now I know my love for her goes on,"

Shadow dropped one hand from the piano and cupped Aurora's cheek, tilting her chin up to look into her eyes, shining with light and joy, and he knew his words wouldn't fail him this time. He smiled at her and leaned his forehead on hers.

"Every little thing you do is magic

Everything you do just turns me on.

Even though my life before was tragic

Know that my love for you goes on."

Shadow ended the song with a soft kiss to her lips, sealing his declaration of devotion with all the love and passion and dedication he had in his heart in the best way he knew how. Words always failed him, but somehow, in this moment, it didn't matter. Aurora wept through his kiss, and he smiled as they parted, a quirk of his mouth so gentle and loving that only she would ever get to see it.

Aurora pounced on him a single moment later, using her own gift of speed to press kiss after kiss on his lips, face, head, everywhere she could reach, glowing so brightly and joyfully exclaiming "I love you"s between kisses. Shadow briefly wondered how she wasn't suffocating before dismissing the thought and basking in their shared love, trading her kisses and words with ones of his own. It didn't matter anyway.

Every little thing she did was magic, after all.

[3lliesan]

"She can't keep them all safe, They will die and be afraid."

New idea.

The firsties x Harpy Hare songfic.

Well, considering what they went through, no surprises really.

(I'm just here for first years angst and have more of this banger)

[winnieiscalmeth]

Notes: First songfic ever so it might not be of best quality! Fun fact! I absolutely hated songfics back then but I think they are kinda romantical now <3

Prompts: Songfic, first kiss, sickness, and slow dancing.

Proofread?: Nop

A Sentinel was chasing you and a few friends; destroying everything in its path. Unfortunately, you were unable to escape and the mutant killer grabbed you. It's eyes glowing, ready to send you to your undeserved grave. Then it malfunctioned; a street light went through the right eye and it caved in. Reacting instinctively it let go of you, and you felt yourself land in someone's arms. You stared up at your savior. Her white bangs and brown jacket that was filled with a sweet but strong perfume. What stuck out most was her Black lipstick.

The night we met I knew I...

Needed you so.

She must have noticed your stunned look and smirked. "Well, aren't you cute?" Her green eyes locked onto yours. Your nerves sent waves of electricity through your limbs. "You will be safe with me darling, don't you worry" The cool breeze flew through your hair as she began to float again.

You stayed at the mansion after that. Not wanting to be on the enemy's radar. You mostly stayed around Rogue since she was the one who saved you and helped you train.

And if I had the chance I'd

Never let you go.

You understandably caught feelings for the southern woman but never gained the courage to confess. You tried to push those feelings back and focus on getting better at using your powers. Rogue didn't help much. With her flirting and innuendos while training, it made you fall back in love again every time.

But instead of accepting her attempts at loving you, you brush them off as you just being delusional again.

So won't you say you love me?

I'll make you so proud of me.

"Doyouwannahavedinnerwithmetonight?" You blurted out, immediately regretting it and clapsing your hands over your mouth. You watched her flinch before turning around.

"I'm sorry honey I didn't hear a word you said"

"Nothing" You picked up your book and ignored her skeptical look.

"You're lying" She pointed at you.

"No I'm not" You pushed the boom further into your face.

We'll make 'em turn their heads

Every place we go.

Rogue put an arm over your shoulders. "Did you just ask me out?" she teased.

"You were not supposed to here that-"

"Don't worry yourself sick about it sugar, I'm free tonight anyway"

So won't you please,

Be my,

"Be my baby~" Rogue's arm reached over the table for yours. Your face became warmer, as her words reached your ears. You lift her hand up and placed it on your face. The diner you took her to wasn't crowded. A booth was available in the corner, for you both to freely talk with each other.

"My one and only baby." When she spoke to you it felt like it wasn't laced with that joking tone she always gave you, but filled with absolute yearning.

Say you'll be my darlin'

Be my baby now,

Oh, oh, oh, oh

I'll make you happy, baby

Just wait and see.

Rogue was dressed up in one of the hoodies she "borrowed" from you. She had arrived at the mansion after being out searching for matching Halloween costumes for the both of you. Hearing her step into your room, you looked up from your desk.

"Hey, sugar! Ah' missed you" She rested her arm on your chair, and hovered over the book you were ready.

"But you left out a few minutes ago." You chuckled, grabbing her cheek to give her a quick kiss before going back to your book.

For every kiss you give me,

Rogue body began heating up. Her once-cold fingertips, regained it's warmth. Your smug look made her even more hot, and of course she wasn't letting that slide. You felt her grab your shirt collar before picking you up out of the chair and planting kisses on your face and lips. Covering you with her Black lipstick.

I'll give you three.

You stared at the ceiling, groggily. With the seasons changing, you would get bedridden. And being sick was the worst thing that could happen, since it felt like you were dying. The light from the hallway seep into your dark room and Rogue peeked in with a bowl.

Oh since the day I saw you

I have been waiting for you.

"Ah' made you some soup hun." All you could do was groan in response. "Aw, my poor baby's sick" Rogue said as she helped lift you up. She raised the spoon to your mouth. You relax as the warm broth satisfies your weakened body.

"Guess we shouldn't have gone out that day," Your froggy throat mustered out. Rogue hummed and laid down next to you.

"But at least we get to spend time together" You leaned more into her neck.

"You're gonna get sick"

She laughed before hugging your waist. "Ah' don't care about that stuff. I'm strong enough to fight a lil' cold anyway"

You know I will adore you

'Til eternity.

So won't you please,

"Be my, be my baby" You sang along as you waltzed around the room with Rogue in hand. The radio played the old song. "Be my little baby"

"You really like this song do you?" She said twirling you around.

My one and only baby

"You sang this to me, remember?" You leaned your forehead onto hers. "Say you'll be my darlin' "

You both stayed like that, swaying slowly while cradling each other. Just basking in the other's presence, singing the next chorus together.

"Be my, be my baby"

Be my baby now,

(My one and only baby)

Whoa-oh-oh-oh~

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 4

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | AO3 | playlist

icymi, i retcon-ed the last little bit of chap 3 (what steve's entry to Be My Baby said from Eddie to Teddy!)

@steddie-week prompt for today: first kiss/Kiss on My List - Hall & Oates (though the part before that got a away from me a little 😅)

-------

Staying away for a bit seemed to be the best thing to do, so Steve goes back to the hospital a couple days later, coming back in the early morning this time to try avoiding stepping on Wayne Munson’s toes.

He looks in on Max first. She’s still asleep, so he quietly sneaks around the room, straightening things up, and picking up discarded popsicle sticks and cotton balls from whatever game the party’s made up as an excuse to throw them around.

He straightens her blankets, pulling them up a bit higher to make sure she stays comfortable, and sneaks back out the open door.

Steve really wants to check in on Eddie too, but doesn’t want to incur the wrath of the older Munson if he catches wind of him being there.

“I’ll just look in, make sure he’s okay, and leave.” Steve rationalizes, mumbling to himself as he walks the familiar path from Max’s room to Eddie’s.

He hears music playing softly as he approaches, the tail end of one song and the beginning of another that is definitely not something he would’ve associated with the bold and brash metalhead currently laid up there.

Steve peeks around the doorframe and finds Wayne there already, sitting beside the tapedeck Steve had brought for them to play music for Eddie.

He’s got a pair of glasses sitting low on his nose, scowling down at a small worn book in his lap. Steve recognizes the cover immediately. It’s the copy of The Hobbit Dustin had left there.

“Damn it Ed, you couldn’t’ve had an easier favorite to read?” Wayne grumbles aloud.

Steve laughs without thinking, and Wayne’s sharp gaze snaps up to him in an instant.

“Oh shit, sorry, Mr. Munson.” he steps into the doorway a little more, pointing a thumb over his shoulder, “I’ll just…yeah.” 

He’s turned to leave when Wayne’s voice stops him. “Harrington.”

Oh boy.

“Yes sir?” 

“Lemme talk t’ya a second.”

Steve enters the room; the itch to immediately go to Eddie’s side is strong, but he stops himself short a few steps away from the foot of Eddie’s bed.

Glancing down at his friend, he’s shocked and delighted to find Eddie’s breathing tube is gone.

“His tu—” Steve starts, but stops himself. He’s there to hear what Wayne wants to say.

“Came out last night, actually.”

He nods gratefully at the offered information, but when Wayne doesn’t say anything, Steve starts, “Mr. Munson–”

“Wayne.” Wayne cuts him off. “I need to apologize.”

Steve blinks at him in shock.

“That loud curly-haired kid of yours really gave me a what-for this morning.”

“Dustin?” Steve whispers.

“That’s the one.” Wayne nods.

“Mr. Mun–Wayne, I’m so sorry, Dustin can be a bit much, whatever he said to you I promise was just said because he cares about Eddie so much..”

“I know that,” Wayne nods, “Really cares about you too, y’know. Nearly tore my head off for darin’ t’say somethin’ bad about your family.”

“To be fair to Dustin, my family deserves it.” Steve jokes, but immediately kicks himself for interrupting.

Wayne nods, “That they do. I’m glad you know this already.”

There’s a weighty pause while Wayne stands, Steve stays frozen waiting for Wayne to continue.

“Your kiddo told me you were the one to get Eddie out of there. Back here to the hospital.” He continues after Steve nods, “Now I realize that was you there in the next bed over when they first called me, but t’be fair, I wasn’t worried ‘bout much else but Eddie.”

“I understand.” Steve nods.

Wayne takes one long step forward to place his hand on Steve’s shoulder and Steve looks up to meet his eyes.

“M’sorry I snapped at you, son.” Steve’s stomach clenches. “Thank you fer bringin’ my boy back to me.”

“You’re we–OOF.” The rest of his response is cut off when his face is suddenly pressed into Wayne’s shoulder. The elder Munson smells like asphalt and cigarettes, the sharp smell of grease stings the back of Steve’s nose

He chooses to blame that for the tears that spill over onto the man’s jacket, and if Wayne notices the wet spot, or the tears that stain Steve’s face after releasing him, he doesn’t say anything.

They sit and talk a bit, Wayne explaining his modified visiting hours due to his work schedule was likely why they hadn’t really crossed paths until Steve accidentally stayed late (“Shouldn’t you be sleeping right now?” Steve asks him, “Probably, but this is more important.”), he tells Wayne what he’d taken to doing for Eddie while he was there in return (“I thought chapstick would be a bit too far for me,” he says as he hands Wayne the new tube of chapstick that’s been haunting the front pocket of his jeans, “but I couldn’t stand watching his wrist get rubbed raw by that damn cuff.”), then move on to Wayne’s personal mixtape he’d been playing whenever he’d visit.

“Even you know it’s not Ed’s particular brand of tunes, but this is our…default tape. Always got it playin’ when we clean the trailer, or while he’s paintin’ somethin’ in the living room while I read the paper.” Wayne shrugs, “Thought it’d bring him some comfort.”

They both fall quiet after that. It’s still relatively early in the morning, and they’ll have a few more hours before the party (sans Dustin, who was off to a previously scheduled, school-sponsored trip as of this morning, hence why he was in so early to say goodbye to Eddie and and to berate his uncle) descends, so they sit in the comforting lull of the day to the Munson Background Music. Wayne moving onto his paper, Steve picking up and attempting (once again) to get into The Hobbit.

He’s gotten through a whole five pages (Five! A new personal best!) when Wayne clears his throat, trying to grab Steve’s attention.

“Now don’t take this the wrong way son, but I gotta ask; it seems t’me you’ve got some…extra feelings for my Eddie.”

Steve freezes.

“No, no, none of that, Steve. I’m asking you both as a concerned uncle, and as a protective one.”

Steve gulps audibly. “How do you mean?” 

“C’mon son, you see anyone else here for ‘im as much? Believe you me, your curly-haired number one fan really handed it to me today. You’ve been here with Eddie more than I have.”

Steve feels his face burn in embarrassment, both for Dustin’s antics on his behalf, and for the current path this conversation is taking.

“Not to be cliché, but I gotta ask, What’re your intentions with my nephew?” Wayne’s eyes crinkle heavily in tandem with his warm smile.

Because the universe hates him, the chorus of the song currently playing cuts through the brief silence between his question and Steve’s not-yet-formulated response.

“ So won’t you, please (Be my, be my baby)? My one and only baby? ” Ronnie and her Ronettes croon, much to Steve’s dismay.

Steve chuckles, half humorously, “Ronnie said it best, Mr. Munson.”

After Wayne’s good-natured laughing fit is over, he says “Best of luck t’ya, Harrington. Just know I’ve got a shotgun in my closet back home.”

“Don’t worry, if I ever hurt your nephew, Dustin will sick Nancy on me. And she’s got a few.”

They fall into conversation again after that, and Steve finds out a bit more about the man, the myth, the legend that lays unconscious in the bed between him and Wayne. Eddie’s favorite color is either black or navy blue, he loves cinnamon-sugar on toast, about half the mugs in the Munson trailer are ones he’s collected, and (possibly the most important piece of information Steve’s ever known) Eddie’s full name is Theodore Wayne Munson.

“No way, Theodore??” Steve can’t contain his grin.

“Theodore.” Wayne nods with a smirk. “His dad hated it, started calling him Eddie basically from when he was born. Rationalized it bein’ short for Theodore, like a Ted to Teddy to Eddie type thing.

“Was his mom that named ‘im that, after her dad. She died when Ed was real young, so he’s been ‘Eddie’ all his life.” Wayne shrugs.

Steve goes to say something else, but is interrupted.

“Oh good, you’re both here.” Hopper grunts, stepping into Eddie’s room.

“Hop? What are you doing here?” Steve asks.

“You here to take that damn cuff off, Chief?”

Hopper comes up to the foot of Eddie’s bed and leans onto the plastic footboard, speaking low to only the two of them. “We’ve got a plan. We’re going to officially clear him today to the public, so yes, the cuff will be off later today but…” he pauses, looking between the two of them.

“Owens figures Eddie’ll be waking up sooner than later and when he does, he’ll need a place to lay low. You both know exactly how this’ll play out with the public, so Steve, we were hoping you’d be willing to take Eddie in in the meantime. If Wayne’s alright with that.”

“You don’t want him to be easy to track down.” 

“Most folks wouldn’t expect him to be staying with Steve...” Wayne says in understanding.

“Exactly.” Hopper nods, “But what about your parents?” he directs back to Steve.

“Honestly? No worries there. They haven’t been around much at all in the last year; I think they are about to cut their losses and just sign the house over to me.” he shrugs.

He ignores both Wayne and Hopper's concerned looks and continues. “What will I need to do to help him? Is he going to do physical therapy? Do his bandages need to be wrapped any different than mine?”

Dr. Owens comes in then, “We’ll know more after he wakes up, Steve, but yes, physical therapy appointments are likely in order to build back up his abdominal strength.”

“Honestly don’t think there was much there t’begin with, doc.” Wayne says, poking fun at his nephew as easy as breathing.

-----

A few more days pass, and Steve goes back to work. Having taken time to heal himself, and make sure his people were safe and sound after taking care of Vecna.

This is about when he gets the idea in his head about making a mixtape for Eddie himself. Music is such an important thing in Eddie’s life, and Steve wants to be sappy, okay? Mixtapes are a romance cliché he hasn’t delved into before and what better person to create one for?

Steve gets the call Eddie’s awake on a Wednesday. Family Video’s least busy day. 

“Family Video, this is Steve, How can I help you?” He drones.

“G’morning son, y’able to get to the hospital?” Wayne sounds like he’s smiling, but his stomach turns to lead anyway.

“Wayne?”

“Eddie’s awake. He’s ask–”

Steve doesn’t let him finish. “I’m on my way!” 

He slams the phone down on the receiver, yells “Gotta go, Ryan!” to his coworker in the back office and books it out the door without waiting for a response.

Breaking multiple speed limits on his way, Steve arrives at the hospital in record time. Deciding the elevator was a waste of time, he sprints up the two flights of stairs to Eddie’s room. 

Wayne’s outside the door talking to Hopper when he finally skids to a stop.

“He’s awake? Did someone tell Dustin? Gotta ask Will to help, he should be able to operate their crazy radio–Cerebro!” He snaps his fingers when the name comes to him. “Or maybe El can reach out an–” 

“Steve, calm down.” Hopper shushes him, “Yes, Eddie’s awake but still kinda loopy from the drugs. He’s been in and out for the last couple hours. And yes, I’ve called Claudia, she’s contacting Dustin’s camp to give him the news.”

He smiles, sagging in relief. “Can I see him?”

“Sure, go on in,” Wayne chuckles, stepping back from the door for Steve to pass.

Rushing forward to Eddie’s side, Steve sees the other man shifting; stirring as if waking up from a nap, not a coma.

“Hey Eds,” he chuckles after a particularly funny-looking stretch. “You good, man?”

“Stevie! Steviesteviestevie’s here! Wayne, Steve’s here!”

“I see that, now stop wriggling around. You’ll pull yer stitches.” Wayne calls, then goes back to his conversation with Hopper.

“Ohyeah, I’m Frankenstein now.” Eddie tells him with all the confidence in the world.

“You are, are you?” 

“Yeah I got all new skin and stitches.”

“...Are you talking about your skin grafts?”

“Uh, ya. Pay ‘tention Steve-o.” Eddie attempts to poke the end of Steve’s nose, but misses completely, poking a cold finger into his eye instead.

“Ow??”

“Steve? You okay?” Eddie looks like he’s about to cry, none the wiser to the bruised eyelid he just caused.

“Yeah, yeah, hon, I’m fine. You just poked me is all. Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Eddie breathes, sagging into the pillows under his shoulders with a sigh and a smile. “You called me ‘hon’.”

“That I did,” Steve says with a chuckle, “That okay?”

Eddie’s still smiling, closes his eyes and says, “No.” then promptly falls asleep.

“...What?”

-------

“You told Steve my full name?” Eddie accuses Wayne as soon as he steps through the door later that night (early that morning? Whatever..).

“Why’re you up?”

“Answer the question, old man!”

“Yeah, I did. Seemed pleased as punch t’have learned that lil’ bit of information.”

“I can’t believe this. He called me Teddy!” Eddie waves the scanned page in his uncle’s face.

“That’s cute.” Wayne toes off his boots and wanders into the kitchen for coffee. His bedtime staple.

“Cute?! You’re giving away my secrets!”

“You just now finding out about the Teddy thing? That was weeks ago, Eds, did he not call you that the whole time you were stayin’ there?”

“No??”

Wayne just shrugs in response. 

“Wait…” Eddie scans through the one memory he tries to keep wrapped up tight, lest he agonize over it 24/7, “He did once; he was running late for work one day…”

-------

Eddie is packed up and ferried off to Steve’s a couple days later; he’s still sore, still recovering, but at least now he can be out of the hospital and he’s past the biggest threat of infection.

He’s got a schedule of PT appointments he’ll have to make; a schedule of which Steve made sure to get into Keith’s hands before Eddie came home and ensuring he’d get Steve’s work schedule swapped around to accommodate (He did, after a thorough berating by Robin).

“This’ll be fun, huh Stevie?” Eddie asks, gesturing to the re-dressing instructions for his various wounds in his hand.

“Oh yeah, loads.” he responds sarcastically at first, but gives him a smile immediately after. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of, Eds.”

He reaches over and pats the top of Eddie’s leg, then turns back to the road, pulling away from the curb none the wiser to Eddie’s burning red face.

They ride along in comfortable silence, the radio playing the local rock station at a low volume. 

“You ready for the chaos when Henderson gets back?”

Eddie scoffs, “I’m surprised he didn't manage to convince Claudia to pick him up, honestly.”

“Maybe he’s planning his escape to the bus station as we speak.” Steve laughs.

Eddie’s quiet long enough for Steve to look away from the road over at him. The sun through Eddie’s open window makes his dark brown, almost black curls glow gold at the edges; Steve finds himself wanting to kiss him more than anything.

But his face is contorted in worry, and he’s chewing on his already stubby fingernails.

“Eds? You alright?”

“Huh? Yeahyeah I’m just…panicking.”

Steve glances back to the road briefly, “About what?”

“He’s going to hate me.” Eddie blurts as soon as the ‘t’ leaves Steve’s mouth.

“No he’s not, Ed–”

“Why shouldn’t he? With what I put him through down there?”

“Hey, no, none of that.”

Eddie doesn’t respond. His fingers are going to start to bleed if he doesn’t stop.

“Eddie, look at me.” Steve grabs his hand away from his mouth, ignoring the feeling of wet fingertips as he laces their fingers together.

“Gross, man–”

“Eddie, that boy loves you so goddamn much. He may be a little passive aggressive about it for a while, but I know he’s glad you made it out of there. That you’re here with us.”

He lets himself smile at Steve’s words. “I’m only here ‘cause of you.” he says in a small voice.

“I just didn’t want Dustin to be sad.” Steve states, matter-of-factly and turns all his attention back to the road. 

Eddie snorts in laughter at that, and Steve’s face pulls up into a smirk.

He’s still holding Eddie’s hand.

-----

The plan is for Eddie to lay low for a couple weeks at minimum. 

Luckily for them, Hopper coming back lent credence to the claim that he was trying to help track down the Creel Murder copycat killer, being as the original killer was from Hawkins and all. 

The government pulled their strings, declaring Eddie a free man and a hero for saving a young Mr. Henderson when, while being held hostage at the Creel House, he’d taken a majority of the killer’s wrath and kept Dustin safe from the crumbling rubble when the earthquake hit. 

It was flimsy at best if you looked at it too hard, but luckily for them, it seemed like the people of Hawkins would much rather ignore their shortcomings when it came to the witch hunt than face them.

It only ended up taking about those two weeks for Eddie to get much stronger, and for things to blow over enough for him to go home.

But damn does Steve wish it was longer.

Not the…hiding from a mob thing, or healing from horrible wounds thing.. But the ‘having Eddie that close’ thing, the ‘comforting presence after a particularly bad nightmare’ thing.

Steve was falling harder and harder every day. Doing his damndest to make Eddie blush just a bit pinker every time his hand lingered on Eddie’s just a bit too long, every pretend need to brush his hair away from his face, and the particularly great ‘Oh, don’t worry if you can’t reach up enough to wash your hair, Eddie, I’ll help. I won’t look anywhere else, promise…unless you want me to’ he’d said (in much more eloquent terms) with a flirty wink

It was sickeningly domestic, and he wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Even in the times they’d get frustrated with one another; Eddie sick of having to be helped with every little thing and having to deal with the constant pain, or Steve also dealing with his own wounds and having to deal with a couple of Eddie’s fits of anger at having to be helped.

Kudos to Eddie though, he really pushed through his PT, did everything right, listened to what Steve and his doctors told him, he was healing fast. 

On the second to last day of Eddie staying with him (though he didn’t know it at the time), Eddie was up before him. He’d snuck easily past the open door to the living room from the hall under the stairs, and into the kitchen.

Steve woke up to the smell of eggs and toast and wandered groggily into the kitchen himself.

Eddie had stretched the toaster from its usual spot in the corner of the counter to right next to the stove and had perched himself on a stool from the island so he could cook.

“Eddie?”

“Stevie, hey!” Eddie says, turning a bit to smile at him as he enters. “I hope you don’t mind scrambled, I don’t quite have the muscle movements to flip anything yet.

Steve blinks twice. Fuck. He’s in love.

“I’ll take anything you give me, Eds.” Eddie’s face turns fully scarlet at that. “Need any help? I’ll make some cinnamon toast if you’d like?” He asks, already pulling the toaster away from the stove with one hand and reaching for the cinnamon sugar with the other.

“Y-yeah, that’d be great Sweeth–Stevie.”

Steve feels his own face go scarlet at the slip, but doesn’t call attention to it. “Cool.” he says, like an idiot.

Eddie hums as they work, some song Steve doesn’t quite recognize, and soon they have two plates of breakfast.

“Thanks Eddie, this looks great.”

“You’re welcome Steve-o, I put some cheese in there too.” His smile is perfect.

“What’ve you got planned today?” 

Eddie launches into the campaign he’s been planning for the party, what he’s still got to figure out, whether or not he’s going to delay starting in order to make them all a figure of their characters, but then if he did that he’d need them all to give him their character sheets well beforehand and Mike is horrible about not making a character till the very last second..

Steve’s so entranced listening to him, he doesn’t realize what time it is until Eddie stops himself.

“Hey, don’t you have the opener today? It’s already 9:30.”

“Aw shit..”

Steve races up the stairs to his room to the tune of Eddie’s cackle, starting the shower first, then grabbing up whatever clothes he can find that’re clean.

He jumps under the warm spray and showers as fast as he possibly can, jumps back out, focuses on drying his hair as much as possible while trying to yank the denim of his jeans over the still-wet skin of his legs, pulls on a polo, shrugs on his vest, grabs up the stupid styling mousse he doesn't like to use all that often (it makes his hair sticky and he hates it, okay?) and whips his hair into shape.

Good enough.

He bolts back down the stairs, pulls on his socks, then shoes, fuck! Where are his keys??

“In here, Stevie!”

He peeks into the kitchen and Eddie’s got both arms outstretched in front of him where he’s still perched on the stool.

In one hand: his keys, in the other: a brown paper bag.

Eddie made him a lunch.

Can you fall more in love with someone that quick after doing it the first time?

“You’re a fuckin’ lifesaver,’ Steve reaches out with both his own hands, enveloping them over Eddie’s. 

He pushes them wide, steps between Eddie’s legs, kisses him quickly, then, just as quickly, is gripping onto the bag and his keys, and stepping backwards toward the door.

“Take it easy today, okay Teddy? You already did a lot, so just relax. See you later!” Steve admonishes the other man teasingly and spins out the front door.

It takes hours.

Hours for Steve to realize what he did.

“Oh no…Oh fuck! ” he yells, dropping the tape in his hand and abandoning the returns cart where it stands.

He books it to the front counter and launches himself over it, knocking a whole stack of already organized tapes off it in his wake a la Dustin Henderson.

Old Ms. Wilson turns her nose up at his antics and leaves without any preamble, and he’s mercifully alone in the store.

“C’mon, c’mon, Eddie please pick up…”

“Harrington residence!”

“Eddie! Eddie, I am so so sorry! I swear, I didn't even realize what I did until just about..hm.. 20 seconds ago? It doe–” Well, better now than never. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, we can just forget it ever happened if yo–”

“Yeah, yeah, no worries Harrington,”

“Harrington?”

Eddie continues on like he didn’t hear him “I know it was just a mistake; I should be out of here soon anyway so..”

There’s something off about his voice. “Ed–”

“So just forget it ever happened, ‘kay? Ooh, bring back Star Wars when you’re off, yeah? Thanks, Steve, you’re the best.”

The dial tone sounds in his ear.

Wow.. okay, that’s…fine. He’ll just stick to being hopelessly in love on his own, then.

-------

-------

“You mean to tell me,” Wayne’s got his eyes closed and his thumb and forefinger pinched over the bridge of his nose. “That that boy kissed you full on yer mouth. And you thought he was 100% not in love with you?”

“Well I know now that’s not true.” Eddie crosses his arms over his chest like a petulant child being scolded. “He didn’t exactly sound all that excited about it when he called me.”

“I can’t believe I’m the one t’hafta tell ya this, but from what you said, in your own retelling , was Steve called hours later, ‘cause he didn’t realize he kissed ya, said ‘I’m sorry, it doesn’t have to mean anything.’...and you pushed him away.”

“That’s what I just said Wayne! I know now ‘cause of this tape but–”

“You’re hopeless. Bless that Buckley girl, oth’wise you’d still be…what’s she call ya? A Doofus about him.”

"...shut up.."

-------

Part 5 here!

tagging: @hellomynameismoo and @messrs-weasley 'cause they both asked so nicely!

[girlinthetardis04]

I have been hit with the Blorbo Disease, so have this mediocre snippet 🤭

For context this takes place halfway through the AU, when they reunited with the Ithacan peeps, and they're catching up.

~~~~~~~~~~~⛵~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Agamemnon is dead?!" Eurylochos couldn't help but blurt out his distress at the news.

Penelope nodded from her seat next to Odysseus, whose arms were coiled so tightly around her shoulders any onlooker might worry they'd fuse together. "Believe me, I wish I could say it was a surprise. But you don't know how Clytemnestra has been since... You know. Before the war. I don't think there hasn't been a day in these ten years where she hasn't thought about it."

The rest of the conversation faded away into an indistinct buzzing for Cassandra, who hastily excused herself from the dinner table.

She rushed over to the parapet of the ship, desperate for some fresh air; yet, no matter how many deep breaths she took, it felt as if there was nothing but a vacuum in her lungs.

This wasn't meant to happen. She wasn't meant to be here. She wasn't meant to be alive. She had seen it, countless times. Agamemnon, torn to pieces. Clytemnestra, manic and covered on blood. Herself, laying on the floor, cold, lifeless, bloodstained-

A gentle hand firmly placed itself on her shoulder.

"You can relax, my friend"

Ah, of course. Polites. In the early days of sailing, he had been her only solace (aside from her dear sister in law) amongst the greek soldiers. Cassandra sometimes wondered if Helios himself hadn't fashioned a ray of his sun into a person to make Polites. There truly was no other explanation for how a man that had just been through a decade of bloody war could be so open and welcoming to everything and everyone the world threw at him.

"You seem troubled, Cassandra" he leaned on the parapet next to her "or, more than usual, I suppose"

Cassandra sighed. There wasn't a chance she'd be believed, but perhaps it would do her some good to let it out.

"I wasn't meant to be here, Polites. I wasn't meant to be on this ship."

Taking a deep breath, she turned around so she was no longer faxing the open waters.

"I was to be Agamemnon's prize. I was to be taken back to his palace, and..."

Her throat nearly dried up at the mere thought.

"And I was meant to die there. Killed by Clytemnestra. I saw it, Polites. Countless times"

Polites couldn't help but furrow his brows. Whether in confusion or concern, Cassandra wasn't sure. "I had years to come to terms with it. Years to accept my fate. But now..." She brought a hand to her cheek, drying her tears. When had she begun crying?

"For the first time in my life, I... I don't know what will happen next. I wasn't meant to live this far. I-"

Her hands were shaking, something she only noticed once Polites had taken them into his.

"How... How do you do it, Polites? Never once have I seen you troubled, or defeated, no matter what the Gods throw at us. How?"

Polites merely shrugged, with that smile that never seemed to leave his face. "I just... try to greet the world with open arms."

Cassandra shook her head.

"I do not understand"

"Well...I just spent the last ten years of my life fighting. I looked around and realized how tired I was of the war and bloodshed. I thought to myself 'is this how we're supposed to live?'"

He frowned, reminiscing about the conflict. The battles, the blood, the clashing of swords...it was too much for anyone.

"Why should we take, when we could give? We're not at war anymore. We can stop and lower our guard."

He gestured to the empty deck of the ship, and the waters surrounding him and Cassandra.

"Here, we have a chance for some some adjustment, I'm telling you."

He gently pulled Cassandra along as he wandered across the deck to sit down on an old empty crate, patting the empty space next to him for Cassandra to sit as well.

"This life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms."

Polites gave her a kind smile, softly cupping her face in his hands. Cassandra unconsciously leaned into his touch, too captivated by his words to notice.

"I see it in your face, there's so much fear inside your heart; so why not replace it, and light up the world, here's how to start: greet the world with open arms"

Cassandra leaned onto his shoulder, too drained by all the emotions of that evening to keep herself upright.

"...greet the world with open arms..."

She carefully rolled the worlds off her tongue, as if trying to grasp some hidden meaning.

Her eyelids grew heavy, and in a few moments she slumped over Polites's shoulder.

He chuckled, covering the former princess of Troy with his cloak to shield her from the cold night air. He leaned his head on hers.

"You can relax, my friend."

[aashiyancha]

Alice and Scarlett wedding skit finale

(Shockingly managed to get this done despite the insanity of boop day haha XD)

Here's the masterpost link for the rest. Oh and a03 link if you prefer that.

[teddybasmanov]

Oleg Volkov: *has a tiny bit of this song play in his lair*.

Me, who knows the lyrics by heart: *immediately applies it to Serovolk*.

In case anyone needs the lyrics translation you can find them here (just ignore everything else there).

[spideycatt]

Hair Day || M.M x BlackBoho!Reader

Oneshot

Synopsis:

You do Miles' hair, to say he's tenderheaded is an understatement... (can be read as 1610 or 42 Miles)

Word Count: 1.4K

Song Recs: Dangerous // Meek Mill, Trust // Brent Faiyaz, 2AM // SZA, My Boo // Usher

Warnings: Fem Reader, Reader has a potty mouth (use of the word nigga like 3 times), use of aave (mainly reader, some miles), smoking dojaaaa, shot-gunning, reader has locs, banter, suggestive jokes (Miles is a jokester y'all), reader is black (cuz some of y'all can't read), no spanish bc I'm rusty with it rn :(

I think that's it lol. lmk if I missed something!!

[not proofread]

"I was in love with you when we were younger, you were myyyy, my boo." You sang and nodded your head to the beat of "My Boo," playing off your speaker, bracelets dangling together as you got all your hair products together. Miles texted you a couple of hours ago asking if you could wash and braid his hair for him since his mom was at work. That leaves you here now, on the floor, searching for your mousse under your bathroom sink.

"You know, seeing you like this is funny.."

You jumped and hit your head on the cabinet (ouchie) as you heard your boyfriend's voice suddenly behind you. Whipping your head around to glare at the tall boy, quick to fuss at him. "Bro, who told you you could just pop up whenever you wanted without texting first?"

"Uhm, first of all, I'm not your bro," He said, pulling you off the ground. "And I did text baby, but it seems like you were away from the phone." He finishes as he tries to put a small peck to your lips, but you move your head to the side. "Damn, baby. It's like that now?"

"Nigga don't play with me. You fucking made me hit my head, so yeah, it's like that," you answer like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "How'd you even get in?" you wondered aloud, quickly getting your answer as you glanced at your now open window. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh. You should start locking that."

"As if that shit would stop you."

"You got me there." He chuckled, looking at you walk to change the song on your phone. 2 AM by SZA starts playing. "Whatya looking for anyway?" your boyfriend questions you. "Mousse, you said you wanted braids, right?" You reply, looking at him over your shoulder as he nods. "Gimme a sec. I'm gonna go ask my mom if she has some," you uttered before leaving the room. Miles took a second to take in your room; it's been a while since he's been in here since you both have been busy with school and work. He missed the smell of your incense burning and the after-smell of the weed you almost always smoked before he got there. You snap him out of his trance as you walk back into the room with the mousse you'd been searching for.

"Aight lil' nigga get in the bathroom," You pat him on the shoulder. "Shirt off, too."

"Oh?" he smirked.

"Miles."

"Right."

You made quick work of setting the towel on the floor and another on the edge of the tub, having a feeling he was gonna wet everything up. "Okie-dokie on your butt." You say as you stand over him, removing your wrist jewelry and putting your locs up in a bun. He looks up at you with a weird smug look on his face. "Y'know, you standing over me like that reminds me of-"

"Don't een finish that sentence." You cut him off with a pointed look.

"Right."

"C'mon baby, lean your head back, and scoot down a lil bit. You know you tall." You guide him while turning on the faucet.

"You're really pretty.." he whispered, looking up at you getting the shampoo and conditioner. You chuckled while kicking off your long skirt to reveal shorts underneath, "Thanks, Miles."

Squirting shampoo on your hands, you lean over to massage it into Miles' scalp thoroughly, moving onto the ends once you finished soaping up his roots. You move one hand to fix your shirt, not doubting that your cleavage is all in your boyfriend's face. Not that he would complain.

It seems like you might've tugged your hand away from Miles' hair too quickly, making him hiss with a slight wince.

"Mami, at least try to be gentle." He whined loudly, bringing his hands up to latch onto your thigh.

"Boy, if you don't get ya ass off me while I'm trying to finish this! Stop being a baby, and it's not my fault you're so damn tender-headed."

"Rude..."

You rinse out his hair a little gentler this time, getting the wide tooth comb out to detangle his hair.

"Aight, just gotta detangle and condition it, and we'll be done!" You smiled and leaned down to peck his cheek. "Be good. This might hurt. If you start screaming and hollering, imma pop you."

And boy, did he get popped—a lot.

"Miles, calm down. This is the last section!" You laughed, tears coming down your face as you watched your boyfriend act like a little kid getting their hair done for the first time. He glared at you as a singular tear started to roll down his cheek. He wiped it quickly, though.

You finally finish conditioning the last section of your boyfriend's hair and start to towel dry it, kissing all over his face as an apology for 'hurting' him.

You both make quick work of drying his hair and moisturizing it, now sitting on your bed to have a quick smoke break. "You feeling better now, baby?" You ask Miles, guiding the blunt to your mouth with your beaded joint holder and inhaling, blowing the smoke in his face while he still pouted at you.

"You got some heavy ass hands."

"Keep playin', and Ima put these 'heavy ass hands' on you." You argue as you see him eyeing the blunt in your hand.

"You want some?"

"Mhm."

You smile as you take a hit and grab his jaw, pulling him into a sweet kiss and exhaling the smoke into his mouth. He smiles, sighing into the kiss. You put the blunt down on the ashtray sitting on top of your bedside table, stretching your arms as you spoke. "Aight, c'mon, big boy, I got somewhere to be later."

He eyed you as he put a pillow on the ground to sit on, obviously wanting to say something but deciding to bite his tongue. You try to move fast, sectioning his hair into four parts gently.

Dangerous by Meek Mill plays as you finish up his second to last braid, nodding your head to the song as you mumble the lyrics. "And when I'm in it, you be maxin' on a million... And when I hit it back to back, you make me still cum," you notice Miles smirking to himself in the floor-length mirror as you finish up his last braid.

"Miles. Don't even."

"I wasn't even gonna say anything!"

"I see that damn smirk. You ain't slick." You argue as you pop his shoulder lightly with the comb. "C'mon, get up. I gotta get dressed."

"Where you even going?" He questioned you, scratching his ass as he stood up and stretched.

"First of all, ew. Gross. Act like you got some damn sense while you at my house." You roll your eyes, walking to your drawer to grab your swimsuit and cover-up. "Me and my girls are going to have a drink at the beach."

"Any boys going?" He interrogated, walking over to see what you pulled out. "You not wearing that, right?"

"Uhmm, only one guy, [friend's name]'s boyfriend. And yes, I'm wearing this. I'm not finna argue with you about it either."

He pouted. "But-"

"But nothing, Miles, it's a beach. I'm gonna wear a bathing suit." you cut him off, walking over to him as you take your top off. "I know how to take care of myself. Now go somewhere, boy."

It was clear he wanted to argue about it more but decided against it. "Alright.. take some good pics for me, ok, ma? I'mma head out. Text me when you get back home. Love ya." He said, placing a loving kiss on your lips before stepping out your window. "And lock the window before you leave!"

"I will. Bye, baby." You shook your head, shutting the window and locking it after watching Miles step off your fire escape onto the pavement below, walking away as he turned around and blew you a kiss. Of course, you blew a kiss back.

And damn, did your back and arms hurt after all that.

And the kid didn't even say thank you.

[enha-hype]

♪ song series ♪

hi! this is the first instalment in a series of oneshots i will be writing based on/inspired by a certain song. i recommend listening to the song once (even if you've already heard it) before you read it <3

#1 first time (song | song with lyrics)

pairing : choi san x gender neutral reader, ex bf!jung wooyoung x reader

genre : songfic, angst, fluff, comfort, friends to lovers

warnings : none

w.c. : 1.1k

disclaimer : this is purely a work of fiction made for entertainment purposes only!

masterlist

→ #2

Jung Wooyoung had been your first love. You two had dated for only about five months before things turned sour, but the impact those few months had on you was long-lasting. Of course, you had been in love with him long before you actually got together. And it didn't help that you were the only one who seemed to find it so hard to move on while he appeared perfectly happy.

It happened back when you were both in high school, so naturally you were both a bit immature and made mistakes. But the difference was that at the end of the day, you were always willing to learn from them and do better, because you loved him and really wanted it to work. He, on the other hand, never cared enough to try, and it made you feel like you weren't worth the effort.

It didn't seem to faze him at all when you finally ended things, which left you wondering if he ever even loved you in the first place. Because if he cared even half as much as you did, it shouldn't have been so easy for him to walk away, right? Then you would think back to the start of your relationship - the good times you had, the sweet things he did for you - and you would start questioning where it went wrong. Surely, he didn't just wake up one day and fall out of love? Something must have triggered it. You had been so sure you were destined to be together; you fit like two puzzle pieces. How exactly did you mess up? Then you would have to remind yourself that the onus wasn't just on you; it takes two to make any relationship work. You would remind yourself of all the things that had been wrong with the relationship, that you were better off without him. But love tends to blind you to those faults, doesn't it? And when a jarring alarm plunged you back into reality, it hurt all over again. But you couldn't help it, he had been your dream for so long that you had forgotten how to let go.

* * *

Choi San is your best friend. You shared a class on the first day of college where he made some snide comment about the racist professor, and you found it so funny that the sip of water you had just taken came spewing out of your nose. Needless to say, you two had been inseparable since then. Almost a whole year into your friendship, he confessed he had developed feelings for you. He knew that you didn't feel the same, and assured you he didn't expect anything of you. He just wanted to be honest about what he felt. You braced yourself for the end of your friendship - but surprisingly, it persevered. And so things went back to normal. Well, almost - you stopped talking to him about your lingering feelings for Wooyoung.

* * *

You don't know when exactly those feelings faded.

Graduation is in a few months and you can hardly believe it. You're at the park near your university where you've spent countless afternoons. A dozen more afternoons to go and you won't be able to do this anymore. You look over at San lying on the grass next to you, his eyes closed, his mouth turned upwards in a content smile. The sun on his cheeks. The soft breeze ruffling his hair. You find yourself smiling, too.

You don't know when these new feelings started making themselves known, either. Or what set them off, for that matter.

Maybe it was that time you called him in the middle of the night when the power was out. You hadn't expected him to answer even if he was somehow awake, because you had just had an argument that day and hadn't talked since. You didn't argue often but when you did, you both needed a bit of space for a day or two to sulk, before eventually talking it out and making up. So it hadn't even been a whole day since the fight, and if it weren't for the dark, and the thunderstorm roaring outside, and the nightmare you had just woken up crying from, you wouldn't even have called him but you did. Because he was the only person that came to mind. And he answered, like he always did. And that was the first time he sang to you. His voice felt like being kissed on the forehead as you drifted off to sleep.

Or maybe it was the time you showed him your plushie collection and he got so excited you couldn't handle how cute he was.

Or the time you got so worried when he missed class one day and he wouldn't answer any of your calls or texts and it turned out it was because he had to take a wounded kitten to the vet.

Or the time you cooked him his favourite meal for his birthday and he wouldn't stop boasting about it to everyone.

“What are you staring at?” the sound of his voice pulls you back to the present, and you realise your eyes have been glued to his face for who knows how long.

He arches an eyebrow at you, his soft smile stretching out into a teasing grin, and you could swear you feel butterflies in your stomach. Butterflies that you thought had long died, back in highschool.

“Nothing,”

He shakes his head, resuming his sun bath. You resume admiring his features.

This wasn't pity or gratitude, you were sure. You didn't know what this was yet but you knew it wasn't that. And you knew that whatever this was, it felt as warm and golden as the sunlight on your faces.

You lay down next to him, scooting a little closer than you usually would. If he notices this, he doesn't say anything. You try to think of the last time you thought about Wooyoung and find that surprisingly, you can't remember. And nor does it bother you. He is no longer the face that frequents your dreams, or the name that makes your heart do summersaults.

Your fingers softly graze San's. He doesn't respond at first, and you think he's fallen asleep. Then they twitch, just a little - hesitant, confused. Your fingertips caress the side of his hand every so lightly, and you link your little finger with his. There's a brief pause. Then he takes your hand in his, and you give it a tight squeeze. He squeezes back. All this, while the rest of your bodies lay motionless and your hearts race like the wings of a hummingbird. All this, while your eyes are closed and your giddy smiles light up your faces like the sun.

A passerby might not have noticed this little interaction. Even if they did, they wouldn't think much of it - just two friends fiddling around, or maybe a couple enjoying their date. But only the two of you would know the gravity of this moment. Only the two of you feel the silent shift in your relationship, of new dreams taking shape. A small step in the eyes of everyone else, a giant leap for the both of you.