#he either sleeps in front of the tv or in a box

[beejsdevilishsoulmate]

Loki has decided that the spot right in front of the sensor on the TV is a good place to sleep...

[luveline]

hi jade! I remember a while back you wrote a drabble about hotchner!reader having a really bad panic attack and Spencer and Aaron helping her at the hospital, and it gave me a lot of comfort to read it. would you be interested in writing something about Spencer and Aaron taking care of hotchner!reader as she adjusts to her new meds?

—Spencer and your brother, Aaron, take care of you when your new prescription gives unexpected side effects. fem (adopted) 2k

When things got quiet at home, you’d get tense. 

Your apartment is silent. No whir of the heating, no washing machine clatter, no voices. You sit on the couch with your legs pulled up, turned to the armrest with your cheek pressed to the seat's backing. Your phone is in your hand at a low percentage. You’ll get up to charge just as soon as you can remember what you’d wanted to be doing in the first place. 

Spencer was going to call you. He’s sweet, really. You didn’t expect for love to feel easy; you never thought someone could like you without allowances. You’re quiet sometimes, your nerves are shot. You ask for reassurance too much, too often, and you don’t believe them when they’re given. 

You aren’t smart, or funny, or particularly hard-working. 

But Spencer loves you, you’re almost certain. Or maybe he’s just content to be half happy. It wouldn’t surprise you if he called you to break up with you —what use have you been to him lately? You’re tired everyday. You can’t sleep, you can’t eat, you never want to go out. You can barely make it through the working day. 

Your phone beeps in your hand. 

Outside, it says. If Spencer’s there, please make sure he’s fully dressed.

You manage to smile weakly. Aaron saw Spencer once getting out of the shower, and he was dressed, thank you very much. You hadn’t done anything salacious as he might’ve assumed from the situation, just showered together, but Aaron always lets you know before visiting now. 

Doesn’t ask, by the way, but you don’t actually want him to. He’s like, the only good thing in your life beside Spencer. 

Aaron lets himself in and finds you immediately. “Hey, honey,” he says. 

He slipped into the affectionate older brother role not long after meeting you, and he’s been worse since you were in the hospital. Which is to say, gentler with you. 

He slips a bag of groceries onto the counter. He pans around the room. It’s cleaner than usual here, but none of the lights are on, nor the TV. You can see him notice it. 

“You okay?” he asks, pulling groceries from the bag. He’s brought milk, bread, eggs, and fresh soups from the nice store nearby. “It’s quiet in here.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Yeah? Any wobbles?” 

He’s asking if you’ve had a panic attack or anything like it, but for the last few days you’ve felt veritably numb. “I’m okay,” you say. 

You should bring up your symptoms. Clearly, lexapro either isn’t right for you or the dosage is too much; you’re a zombie these last couple of days. Medications don’t always work straight away, so for a time you’d felt like your script was useless, serving only to make you nauseous, but the sickness has finally gone away. 

He opens the fridge to put away the groceries. He’s sliding the bread into your bread box when he says, “Honey, aren’t you gonna answer that? Your phone?”

You blink down at your phone. Spencer’s contact glows in front of a green background. 

You click answer and pull it to your ear. “Hello?” you ask softly. 

“Hey, angel. How are you feeling today?” 

You clear your throat. “Fine.” 

“I was thinking I’d come over?” 

“You’re outside?” you ask. 

“How’d you know that?” 

“Must be something in the water.”

“I’ll come up now. I brought some things for dinner.” 

You manage your first laugh that dreary day. It’s nearly normal. “Okay. I might not have room.” 

Spencer promises to be up quickly and disconnects the call. You lift your chin to find Aaron already looking at you. “Do I look okay?” you ask. 

“Beautiful, don’t worry.”

“Is this an ambush?” you ask. 

“Not an intentional one. Can I make you something to drink?” 

He’ll make you something you like, you trust. You try to sit properly on the couch before Spencer gets here, rubbing under your eyes, checking there’s nothing on your t-shirt and sweatpants. It might not matter if there were, you know Spencer thinks you’re pretty without makeup or fancy clothes, but he doesn’t necessarily have to be truthful about it. 

“Aaron,” you say, before you can forget, “did… was Jack’s soccer okay?”

He passes you a mug, squeezing your shoulder lovingly. “It was great. I’ll show you the photos.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t go.” 

You were supposed to. Spencer even drove to pick you up, but he got here and your meds weren’t working and your heart was beating wrong, so you stayed home. 

“It’s okay.” Aaron looks like he wants to hug you, but he doesn’t. “Nobody’s mad at you for that.” 

“For other things?” 

“Nothing.” 

Your door opens again. Spencer bursts in with two things, a brown paper bag of groceries and a bouquet of flowers. It’s a pretty huge bouquet, as they go, white and pink flowers, cornflower blue chrysanthemums spotted throughout, the end of his scarf stuck in the flowers and his coat unbuttoned in the struggle. “Hey. Hi, Hotch.” 

“Spencer,” Aaron says, which is strangely warm. 

Spencer shoves the bouquet aside to see you. “Hi, you okay?” 

You force yourself to stand. It’s obvious you’re not feeling right, your head whirring, but you have to make sure he still wants you. “Spencer.” 

He puts the bouquet down. The groceries next. “Angel,” he says, meeting Aaron’s eyes quickly, then back to you, where he smiles sympathetically, “How long have you been feeling like this?” 

You’ve only taken a few steps toward him when he catches you for a hug. It’s nice and polite, but not without tenderness. He doesn’t pull your weight in like he would if you were alone, but he holds your back and sits a quick kiss against your cheek as he pulls away. 

“I don’t really know, a few days?” you suggest. 

“You could’ve told me. Or Hotch, you know?” 

“I know, I was going to, just–” You press your hand to your eyes. “Didn’t really notice it was happening.” 

“Don’t get upset,” Aaron says, coming to join you both in the kitchen. “It’s alright. Spencer isn’t scolding you, he just wants you to know we’re here for you no matter what happens.” 

“I don’t feel like myself,” you say.

“That’s okay,” Aaron furthers, holding you by the shoulder, his hand settling behind the nape of your neck, “we can talk to your doctor again, this isn’t permanent. We’ll talk to them today, if it’s what you need.” 

“I’m sorry. Not many people have such an adverse effect to lexapro, I was hoping you wouldn’t be an exception,” Spencer says. 

To your surprise, Aaron answers for you, “You couldn’t have known. This is just something we’ll have to keep doing together.” 

Someone sits you down. Aaron warms his fancy soups and toasts the bread he brought, making a plate and bowl for each of you without asking. Spencer barely balks. You manage another laugh, for which you’re rewarded with two smiles. 

Aaron can’t stay much longer, having to pick up Jack from Jess’, but he offers to come back. You decline, not wanting Jack to see you feeling as depressed as you are. He promises to call the doctor tonight and leaves in a rush. He must’ve stayed longer than he should’ve. 

Spencer is more forthcoming with soft touches once he’s gone. He didn’t eat much but neither did you, pushing the plates across the coffee table. He’s still wearing his coat. 

Fond, you reach for his chest and begin slipping buttons from the eyelets. “You’re staying, right?” you murmur. 

“If you’ll have me.” 

You open his coat and push it away from his shoulders. He dressed fancy even when he���s not going anywhere, it’s so strange, the button up and the tie and the sweater vest, all of it, but you love it. You run your hand down his vest. He lets his head dip forward. Not for kissing, just to be near. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“Just feel wrong.” 

“It’s not really a good idea to stop taking the lexapro now. It’s technically an antidepressant, and your body won’t adjust well.” He holds your waist as you hold his. “But this is weird, huh?” 

“Feels weird.” 

“Short term, uh, I think we should just try and make sure you feel alright today. Is there anything you need?” he’s murmuring, rubbing his thumb into the soft of your stomach. “I can get anything. Or we can do anything.” 

“You don’t have to… worry about me.” 

“Are you kidding?” he asks softly.

“We haven’t been…” You trail your hand to his stomach, where it stays. “I just don’t expect you to deal with this, you didn’t sign up for this.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. I had no idea what I’d find out about you or what you might go through when we first met, but I wanted to find out. I wanted to take care of you then, and I do now,” he says simply.

“It’s not good timing for me to be like this.” 

“Stuff happens all the time. I wouldn’t want to wait for you to be perfect before we met.” He smiles genuinely. “Not that you’re not perfect.” 

“I really feel like I’m not even me.” 

“You’re you,” he says, dipping so close to you that you can’t see his face anymore, just his skin.

You slouch into his chest, coaxed by long, lithe arms cradling you, as kind as anyone’s ever touched you. He smells clean, your nose finding its way to his stiff collar. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. 

“You don’t have to be. Nobody wants you to be sorry, okay?” 

It’s a new feeling. Spencer spends the night with you on the couch and doesn’t for a moment seem like it’s something he doesn’t wanna do. You end up laying on his chest, his fingers drawing lines like a meandering figure skater up your back. Twirls and loops, long laps around your spine. When your phone rings, he’s nice enough to click answer and hold it to your ear. 

“Aaron?” you ask sleepily. 

“Hey, honey. I’ll be by tomorrow to take you back to Dr. Chester’s office, alright? If you don’t want to keep taking your lexapro, don’t. But if you can manage it, take another tonight, and we’ll figure out the new plan after your appointment.” 

“Okay,” you say, feeling very small. “Thank you for doing that for me.” 

“I’d do anything. Jack says he loves you, he’s making you a painting of yourself. He’s very good at the colours.” 

“I bet he is,” you say loudly. In the background, you can hear Jack’s pleased little thank you. 

“Do you want to talk a while?” he asks.

“That’s okay, Aaron, I’m half asleep on Spencer right now.” 

“Good, that’s good. Tell him to take good care of you, okay? Or I won’t be happy.” 

Spencer laughs above your head. “When is he ever happy?” he jokes in a whisper. 

“Shh,” you say, giving Spencer a light shove. “He says he will.” You swallow a lump, as you’ve had to do all day, but it isn’t rawness that colours your voice now. “I love you. Thank you for, uh, calling the doctor. Thanks.” 

“I love you too. I’ll leave you to sleep now. I’ll come at eleven, alright?” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow,” you say. 

Your voice is weak. Spencer pulls the phone away and hangs it up, tossing it without force onto the coffee table, before wrapping his arm around you snugly. 

“It’s gonna be fine,” Spencer says. “You’ll see, things aren’t going to be like this forever. It’s statistically impossible.” 

“Ooh,” you croon, pressing your tired face back into his chest, “I love when you talk statistics to me. Tell me more.”

He draws shapes into your back, his voice a murmur as he starts to talk. 

[moonstruckme]

hi Mae! I've never requested anything before, so forgive me if I'm doing this wrong. Can I request poly!marauders x reader who has a cold? I've just gotten sick and I feel icky, and these type of stories always make me feel better 😅 no worries if you can't, thank you!

Thanks for requesting lovely! You nailed it don't worry <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Your home is suspiciously quiet when Sirius enters. You and James ordinarily beat him there, but there’s no blaring TV or sound of something sizzling in the kitchen, he can’t even hear the shower running upstairs. The only evidence of either of you are your shoes by the front door, yours lined up neatly as they always are and James’ strewn a couple of feet from the doormat (as they always are). 

Sirius kicks his own shoes off, leaving them amongst James’, and starts to go in search of you upstairs. Only, as he passes the couch, he does hear something. A quiet whistling. 

He turns, and there you both are. Slumped where he couldn’t see you from the door, your body laid over James’ and his head propped at a painful-looking angle against the arm of the couch, the both of you covered in blankets. Your breath wheezes in and out of you. 

An unintentional tsking noise comes from Sirius’ mouth as he crouches beside you. He slots a hand underneath James’ neck, trying to alleviate the cruel bend. 

His boyfriend makes a sulky groaning sound. Mile-long lashes (which go sorely unappreciated by their owner, by the way; Sirius would do much better with them) flutter reluctantly as James turns his head towards Sirius. 

“Hello,” Sirius says softly, a smile tugging at his lips at the sight of the other boy’s sleep-glazed eyes. “Are you very comfortable like that?” 

“M’sweltering,” James admits, “but she’s cold.” 

Sirius feels his brows furrow. “I meant your neck, Jamie.” But it is odd that you’d be cold, considering that he’s a bit warm and he has no blankets. You don’t usually get so chilled. “She’s cold?” 

James makes a face that’s half pout, half frown. “She’s ill.” 

Sirius frowns harder, and only then does he realize how unusual it is for you not to have woken while they’re talking right above you like this. He sets the back of a hand to your forehead and finds it scorching. 

“Oh.” The coo drops from his lips almost without his notice. He feels your cheek with his other palm as if that will change things, but it’s the same. “Since when?” 

“She was home when I got here,” says James. “Don’t think she ever made it to work this morning. I gave her some paracetamol.” 

That had to have been hours ago. Sirius is about to ask if James is feverish himself, or what other delusion caused him to nap with you instead of calling him and Remus home, but you start to stir, saving your boyfriend a berating. Sirius’ attention goes to you. 

“Hey, sweetness.” He strokes his thumb along your cheekbone, hoping to wake you gently. “You’re not feeling well?” 

You make an unhappy humming sound Sirius takes to mean No. Sniffle wetly. James grabs a box of tissues from beside him on the floor and offers them to you like it’s a routine.

“When did this start?” 

You blow your nose before replying. It sounds awful, and when you’re done Sirius can see that the tip of your poor nose already looks chapped. “I think it set in overnight,” you croak. James winces at the sound of your voice. 

Sirius strokes your cheek again, doing his best not to look too severe. “And why didn’t you call us, lovely girl?” 

Over the top of your head, James mouths emphatically, She wouldn’t let me. 

You only shrug, burrowing further into your blankets. “No point. Why should you come home just because I’ve got the sniffles?” 

Sirius sighs. He gives your cheek a mean little squeeze, standing and pulling out his phone. 

“What’re you doing?” you ask suspiciously. 

“Hush, don’t hurt your throat.” 

You pout, but Sirius is not James, and while he’s far from immune to your sweetheart face, he won’t be swayed by it. Remus picks up on the third ring. 

“Hi, love.” He answers already sounding weary, albeit lovingly so, used to Sirius getting home around this time and calling him impatiently. Remus works too much, Sirius comes home every day itching for a kiss from all three of you; it’s a routine they both love to hate. “I’m just about to wrap up here.” 

“Right, I totally believe you,” Sirius scoffs (affectionately). Remus is always ‘wrapping up’ when Sirius calls, one chapter bleeding into the next until it’s dark and one of you goes to collect him. “I just wanted to let you know that our bird never made it to work today; she’s come down with something.” 

He can practically hear Remus’ frown forming. “She didn’t say?” 

“What do you think?” 

A sigh crackles through the line. “And bad enough that she stayed home, hm?” 

Sirius looks at you, finding your eyes still big and expression pouty. He pouts back. “Yeah, she’s got a wicked fever and whatever it is has turned her nose into a poorly tuned woodwind instrument.” 

Your expression sours. James hides a smile in your hair. “It’s only a cold,” you say. 

“Honestly, Rem, she’s incoherent.” 

Sirius can hear movement on the other end of the line, the quiet snap of his boyfriend’s laptop shutting. “I’m coming. Try to get her to drink something, please?”

He appraises you. You don’t look particularly happy with him. “I’ll try.” 

“Thanks, love. I’ll be there soon.” 

“Alright, drive safe. Love you.” 

“Love you, too.” 

“That was so unnecessary,” you complain as soon as he hangs up. 

“Sorry, I can’t understand you when you’re all stuffed up like that,” Sirius replies flippantly, pocketing his phone and crouching in front of you again. “All your consonants sound like ds and bs.” 

He uses his cold hands to his advantage, pressing them to your cheeks and allowing his genuine sympathy to surface in his expression. It wins you over quickly; you tilt your face into his touch. Fever glazed eyes droop indulgently. 

“Now, my lovely snot monster, would you like ice in your water or do you want it plain?” 

Remus bustles in when you’ve halfway drained your cup. Sirius can tell he’s worried because he hardly kicks his shoes into alignment next to each other, not taking the time to bend over and arrange them as neatly as he always does. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” he says in his most dulcet tone, dropping a kiss on your temple while he feels your fever with his knuckles. “Jamie, you’re not ill too, are you?” 

“No, I’m just here in solidarity,” James assures him from beneath you. “I’m tip-top, promise.” 

Remus nods, his mouth an unhappy line as he appraises the two of you. “I think you need to lose the blankets, dove. We need to get your fever down.” 

“But it’s cold,” you whine. 

“It’s not,” Sirius promises you. “It’s just that you could roast a marshmallow on your forehead right now.” 

“You can still have Jamie,” negotiates Remus, already peeling the blankets off you and balling them up out of reach. 

“S’all you really need,” James says agreeably. You look unsure, but you relax a little when he cuddles you closer. 

“And how about some tea?” Remus palms the side of your face, frowning slightly at the heat while he drags his thumb across your cheek. “It’ll help with your throat and keep you warm, yeah?” 

“Okay, yeah.” You take Remus’ hand, bringing it to your lips. Your eyes are fever bright. “Thanks, Rem. I’m sorry you came home.” 

“Now, what kind of thing is that to say?” Sirius teases. “I, for one, am very glad to have Remus home.” 

You attempt a glare; it’s poorly executed. “I meant I was sorry you called him.” 

“Well, I’m not,” Remus says firmly. Sirius fights the urge to stick his tongue out at you. “You should always call me, sweetheart. Or just any of us, but we can talk about that later.” (Oh, Sirius cannot wait. The scolding he wants to give you would have paled in comparison.) Remus gives your cheek a little pat. “I’m going to make your tea. Try to finish your water before I get back, please.” 

Sirius follows him into the kitchen, pleased to hear you asking James to pass you your water behind him. 

“Hey,” he says, coming up behind Remus at the stove. 

Remus sighs, turning around and looping his arms around Sirius’ shoulders. “Hi.” He rests his chin atop his boyfriend’s head. It’s a welcome weight. “Sorry.” 

“Sorry for what? Don’t be.” Sirius runs a hand up his spine, feeling each knob. “Sorry I worried you on the phone. I was freaked when I found her like this. She’s alright, though.” 

“She’s alright,” Remus agrees. “I just hate to see her so poorly. Her throat sounds awful, poor love.” 

“I hate that she didn’t tell anyone.” Sirius intends to sound a tad bitter, maybe with an edge of teasing, but his voice comes out whiny and wounded. 

Remus kisses his hair silently. He knows Sirius has trouble with the people he loves suffering in silence, even when it comes to things like this. “That, too.” 

“I hope you lecture her into never doing it again.” 

“That’s the hope.” 

“James aided and abetted, too.” 

The faintest traces of a smile in Remus’ voice. “You want me to do something about that, do you?” 

“If you think so.” 

“Mm. I think you just want me to be the bad guy.” 

The kettle starts to whistle, and Sirius steps out from his boyfriend’s arms, pecking him on the cheek as he gets it. “I mean, you’re already so good at it.”

[ohtobeleah]

Was It Over? // Jake Seresin

-> Chapter Seven: [Faucet Failure]

Summary: Jake makes his way back to you after finding out the truth. While under sedation to give your brain some rest, you remember the good times and the bad with your husband.

Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.

Word Count: 4.6K

Author Note: These chapters keep getting more and more heartbreaking. I can’t even deal. Why did you guys let me do this to y’all?

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

November 22nd

The dim glow of your TV was the only thing in the house that was giving your home any sort of light. The kids had all gone down well, both Lucy and Lennox had swimming practice after school which meant that they were down and out for the count before you even got from their beds back to the door. Sam was easy to get to sleep, he always had been. He was just a naturally sleepy kid. 

The gentle knock against your front door startled you, but didn’t shock you. You knew exactly who it was. It was the same guy who'd given you a tissue to dry your tears, the same guy who sat beside you and kept you company during one of your lowest moments. It was the guy that had turned an overly depressing core memory into one that showed a little humanity, sympathy and understanding. 

“Happy Birthday!” Jensen cooed as he stood at your door with a plastic bag full of Chinese takeout containers full to the very brim. “I didn't know what you liked so I think I got one of everything.” You stood at the threshold of your home just staring at the man who was on your doorstep, who’d insisted on buying you dinner. When you had informed him of your three children, Jensen said he’d have it delivered.

But he didn't specify who’d be delivering it…..

“I hope you weren't expecting a tip.” You smiled as you let Jensen into your home, the unimaginable amount of scattered children's shoes made it look like you were raising a family of caterpillars, but Jensen didn't mind the mess. He understood, his sister had two little girls around about the same age as Lucy and Lennox. 

“But I brought you cheesecake as well?” Jensen smiled back at you in the darkness of the dimly lit hallway. “Can’t have a birthday without cake.” 

“I don't even remember the last time someone brought me any form of cake.” You sighed as you politely took the cheesecake in its cake box. Jensen frowned in response as he watched you hit the light switch in the hallway that led to the kitchen. 

“Didn't your husband ever buy you a birthday cake?” He called out as he followed you deeper into your humble abode. It was a simple question that carried far too much weight than you were ready to truly unpack. You'd told Jensen in one of your many conversations since you first met about how you and Jake were separated due to circumstances that weren’t fair to either one of you. Jensen never pressed for more information than you were willing to give. 

“He used to.” You shrugged. “I can't remember the year he stopped, hell–I can't really even pinpoint when he stopped caring but eventually he did and soon enough my birthday just became another day.” It was hard to admit, but Jensen made opening up about your marital struggles easy, you never really confided in anyone about any of it. He had a non-biased opinion. “But I loved Jake, I still do, at the time I guess I didn't care that I was getting a fraction of what I deserved because a fraction of him was better than nothing at all.” The tears were there, they were ready to spill over your lower last line. But you never let them fall as Jensen sat down at your kitchen bench and opened up the bag of chinese food. “But it all got too much– or too little, I suppose.” 

“Have you told him about the cancer yet?” Jensen asked softly, he wasn't pressing, he was just asking. 

“I still dont think I’m going to–he probably wouldn't care, I mean he forgot my birthday.” Again you shrugged it off like it was no big deal. “I highly doubt he’d care about some cancer diagnosis.” 

“Are you sure he wouldn't care? Or have you just convinced yourself he wouldn't because it hurts less to believe he doesn't care than it does to believe he does?” When you answered Jensen's heart sank. He saw the tears in your eyes, the look of heartbreak that reflected from your very soul. The longingness in your expression. He saw right through the wall you tried so hard to protect yourself with. He saw it all. Which is why when your voice cracked and your support beams held together by caffeine and your need to keep a normal routine for your children in place, faltered, Jensen sighed. 

“It didn't take much convincing–”

“Y/n–”

“How was Chemo today?” You tried your best to change the subject as you grabbed some cutlery. The chair beside Jensen at your kitchen counter looked awfully comfortable. 

“Consider my follicles fried.” Jensen chuckled as you handed him a spoon. “Now don't change the subject, we’re talking about you and this husband of yours, who, I'm convinced, is a few screws short of a hardware store.” 

“Oh yeah? Why's that?” You weren't sure if you wanted to know, but what you did know was that Jake wasn’t here. He’d sent you a message earlier in the day but you were yet to respond. You felt that if you replied it would open a floodgate of vulnerability. But soon enough Jensens words had you in a freefall of wondering if it was truly over between you and Jake–

“Because I don't think anyone who's lucky enough to love you would ever put themselves in a position to lose you.” 

Or not. 

***~***~***~**~***~

“Look left for me?” Doctor Ignatii spoke as he shined his little pen light in your eyes. “And right?” You did as you were told although you just wanted to be left alone. “Count to five for me?” You almost rolled your eyes as Doctor Ignatii stepped away and walked closer to your feet. 

“One, two, three, four, five.” You slowly counted. “Do I get a gold star?” Doctor Ignatii didn’t take your foul attitude to heart, he dealt with people like you every day—over the years you tend to develop pretty thick skin. 

“Possibly, if you can wiggle your toes and touch your nose?” He asked through a smile as he began to feel your feet. “Wiggle please Mrs Seresin.” 

“This better not be my audition tape for the Madden Brothers Circus.” You didn’t mean to take your hostility out on the doctor who had saved your life, but there was a small part of you that wished he would have just let the blood clot do its damage. You did what you were told once more and wiggled your toes and touched your nose. “Look at me go.”

“Well—“ Doctor Ignatii chuckled to himself as he filled out your charts on his iPad. “You don’t seem to be showing any immediate deficits post surgery, I’d like to give your brain a chance to rest for another ten to twelve hours before we get you out of bed for a little bit of a walk.” You listened to what your doctor was saying as your mother came back into the room, you didn’t know it but Jake had just landed and was heading right over. 

“Does that mean I get more of these awesome drugs?” You asked playfully, your mother even swore you were flirting. Doctor Ignatii was very handsome with brown hair and dark skin. He smiled at your forwardness but nodded in response. He was also used to this. 

“We’ll give you another sedative to make sure you're able to rest, you’ll probably feel like you got hit by a bus when you wake up but it’ll give us a clearer indication if you’ll face any deficits going forward.” 

“You reckon breast cancer’s a deficit?” You couldn't stop thinking about the dream you had about Jake. it felt so real, like your own personal rolodex of memories was trying its best to show you the good times. For whatever reason that may be you had no idea, but, you really had to ground yourself in your own reality. Jake wasn't the Jake from your memories anymore, although you desperately wished he was. He was now the Jake who couldn't remember your birthday or to fill your Christmas stocking on Christmas. He was the guy who let you peel your own oranges after he’d done it for so many years. 

He was the guy who had fallen out of love with you. 

“I do, but your double mastectomy has been rescheduled for Christmas Eve. So what better way to wake up on Christmas morning knowing your chance of kicking cancer's ass just went up by thirty five percent?” It was your turn to smile at Doctor Ignatii as he ended the conversation about your cancer at that. “I’ll send in a nurse to admit the sedative, mum? She’ll be out for a minimum of ten hours while on the IV, you should take the time to get some rest too.” 

“Sure thing Doc.” Your mother answered as she watched him walk away. “Were you flirting with that man?” 

“No harm, he’s seen the inside of my brain, can’t get more intimate then that can you?” You were probably putting on a braver face then you felt but your mother could tell you were nervous about the sedative.. 

“I’ll stay with you for the entire time you're sleeping.” She cooed as she pushed your hair behind your hair. She noticed how stands fell almost with the gust of her fingertip. The chemo was killing your hair follicles. “You won’t be alone.” 

“Thanks.” Was all you said as Lydia came into your room ready to set your IV drop up. “I hope you’ve done this before, kid.” 

“Absolutely Mrs Seresin.” Lydia chuckled, she felt a lot better after a full eight hours of sleep. “I’ll just get this sorted and you’ll be good to go.” As Lydia set up your IV, you had just rough energy to send one message to a dear friend you thought should know about your current state. Your mother watched as you typed out a really quick message with one hand. 

You: “Had a stroke, in hospital, surgery rescheduled.” 

“Promise you’ll stay?” You asked your mum one more time as you saw her reading a text. A text from your ex husband telling her he was about twenty minutes away and running off the five hours of sleep he got before his world got flipped on its head. 

“You’re not going be alone sweetheart.” Your mother answered rather cryptically. As your eyelids grew heavier and heavier. “You’re not gonna be alone.” 

***~***~***~**~***~

“I'm here.” Jake had taken the next flight back to Rhode Island that he could, he didn't have time to waste when it came to getting back to you. He was tired, emotionally exhausted from everything he had learnt of your condition and dishevelled beyond belief. He was sure someone threw a dollar down at him while he was sitting on the floor at the airport next to a charging port. He looked so distressed and dishevelled that someone thought he was homeless. 

He kept that dollar though. 

“Okay, ask the main reception to point you in the direction of oncology and we’re in room 306.” Your mother replied over the phone, Jake had called her about fifteen minutes after you had been administered your sedative. 

Jake felt his heart in the back of his throat as he took the elevator up to the level the lady at the reception desk in the main lobby of the Rhode Island hospital had told him to go to. Oncology equals cancer, you had cancer, breast cancer, you had a stroke, strokes can kill you, cancer can kill you. 

Jake had thought about nothing else since he got on his flight, the idea that you were sick, that you were so sick you couldn't even tell him broke his heart more than you leaving him ever could. There was once a time where Jake thought you could tell him anything, that you were able to come to him with any problem you had or were facing. 

He couldn't pinpoint exactly when you stopped telling him things, or more importantly when he’d stopped listening. Jake couldn't help but to blame himself for feeling like he’d somewhat put you into this situation where you felt like you couldn't rely on him to step up when you needed him to. You were sick and you needed support, he was supposed to be that support, but instead you kept him in the dark like he didn't deserve to know you were ill. 

Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but either way Jake was walking towards room 306 where your mother had told him to go. He brought his duffel with him, Jake made no plans to leave your bedside for the duration of your stay. However long that may be, he was gonna be by your side. 

And the second he got to the threshold of your hospital room, Jake Seresin forgot what it was like to be able to breathe on his own accord. 

“Oh Honey.” He cooed as his bottom lip quivered, your Mother tried her best to remain a strong presence but at the sight of Jake crumbling under the weight of the idea he’d lose you twice over made her eyes water. “Oh my sweet girl.” 

***~***~***~**~***~

“Jake!” You shouted out throughout the house as Lucy and Lenny watched over baby Sam as they ate lunch in the living room.“Jake!” 

“What?” Jake called back to you from the back deck where he was busy doing absolutely nothing but enjoying a beer with his feet up and his sunglasses on. He just needed twenty minutes. Sam had been a handful today and ever since Jake got home he’d wanted nothing more than to use his body as a jungle gym. 

“The faucet in the ensuite won’t stop leaking, can you please tighten it before you get too comfortable.” You asked as politely as you could with a soft smile. 

“Sure, yeah I’ll put it on the list.” Jake shrugged your request off like it was nothing but another chore you were commanding him to do. When Jake didn’t budge, you crossed your arms over your chest and pressed the issue further. 

“It’s just that I’m trying to work on my new book and I can’t concentrate with the dripping.” You were in the middle of your latest project. A new book proposal your editors were waiting on. 

“I said I’d get to it Hon, just—why don’t you try writing somewhere else besides your desk? Or better yet, shut the ensuite door?” Jake couldn’t see the rage burning in your eyes when he told you to basically deal with it until he could be arsed to get up. 

“Jake please?” You begged, it wasn’t the first time you’d asked Jake to fix the leaky faucet but it would be the last. It was one the few final straws that broke your back before you decided enough was enough and you couldn’t stay in your marriage any longer. “I need you to do this one thing for me so I can work in peace.” 

“If it’s so important that it needs to be fixed right this second Hon just fix it yourself?” Jake argued back as he took a sip of his beer, it had been a long week for him and he needed a moment to relax. “You know how to fix a leak.” 

“I already tried!” You shouted back loud enough to finally have Jake taking his glasses off to look at you properly. “I’m trying to work, I’ve had the kids all week and I need to get these last few chapters done before next Friday and you go back to work on Monday.” You saw the look Jake gave you, one of annoyance and frustration, like you were some kind of parasite trying to ruin his day off to relax and enjoy some rest and rejuvenation before Monday rolled around again. 

“Honey if you let me sit here for twenty minutes I will fix the fucking leak for you.” He tried to hide his disdain but you could read it through the lines on his face. “I’m not sure why you can’t just write somewhere where you can’t fucking hear it but I’ll fix it the minute I’m done drinking my beer.” 

“Alright.” You pressed your lips together and tried not to let your anger boil over. “Alright I can live with that.”

“Hallelujah, she can live with compromise.” Jake sassed as he took another sip of his beer. You chose not to respond as you headed back inside the home you both shared with a feeling of under appreciated value looming over your head. What did Jake mean by compromise? You did so much and more for him, why was it such an issue that you’d asked him to fix a faucet. 

He never did get around to fixing it like he said he would. Twenty minutes turned to two hours, which turned to two days, months and eventually It was only when the both of you decided to sell the property when you said you were leaving, that he noticed the leak was never fixed. 

You never did finish that draft, the book that remained unpublished and half finished. You kept the google doc on your laptop and sometimes you thought about picking the project back up. But you never did, you never had time to, not while you were on the cusp of divorce and raising three children all on your own. 

“I uh—I fixed the faucet.” Jake sheepishly told you as he made his way into the kitchen to see you packing plates and bowls and cutlery into moving boxes. 

“The faucet I asked you to fix back in October?” You replied harshly while trying not to look at the man who forgot where you should have been on his priority list. “Glad I compromised on that one for this long.” You hissed, it had only been four days since you told Jake you were leaving, that you were moving back into your mothers place with the kids until you found somewhere to live. 

“Honey—“ 

“Please don’t call me that.” You asked rather simply as Jake's heart broke before you. He was losing his wife, his kids and didn’t know how to fix what he’d unintentionally broken. 

“Don’t go, we can fix this, I don’t want you to go.” 

“Well unfortunately this isn’t about you Jake.” You tried to keep your voice down so that you wouldn’t alert the kids to your argument. If there was one thing you weren’t going to do it was fight in front of your children and subject them to that environment. “Tell me, it’s January right now isn’t it?”

“Yeah?” Jake wasn’t sure what you were getting at as he watched you pack the boxes of things you were taking with you. 

“When’s my birthday?” You asked like he should have known that answer off the top of his head, because he should have and he did. 

“Novem—oh fuck Y/n no hold on a minute.” Jake couldn’t find the words he wanted to say at that moment, how could he forget your birthday? He missed it entirely and you said not a single thing about it. 

“My stocking was the only one empty at Christmas, not a single present under the tree was mine, you know why that is? It’s because for four years I’ve brought my own damn presents and gotten my own fucking birthdays cake, you don’t give a shit about fixing a goddamn fosset so I can focus on work let alone the little things.” You hissed before you tried to calm yourself down and get back to packing. Jake just stood there speechless looking like he hadn’t slept a wink in days. He hadn’t, not since you told him you were done and that you needed a break. 

“I can fix this, please.” Jake was begging you to stay, he didn’t want to lose the one person who meant more to him than life itself. “Just don’t leave me.” 

“There isn’t enough room for me in your life Jake, and instead of being selfish and trying to change you I’d rather let you go to be yourself. People change.” You shrugged. Staying now would have killed you, Jake felt you slipping through his fingers in real time as he watched you wrap up the mugs you were taking in old newspaper. “I sure never thought the man I married would change into someone I don’t even know.” 

***~***~***~**~***~

Jake was at a loss for words when he stepped into your hospital room. The Christmas lights that shimmered around the room were a stark contrast to the plethora of machines that were scattered around your bedside.

“I thought since she’s sleeping the blinds should be shut.” Jake could just barely make out what your mother had told him as she rose to greet him with open arms. He couldn’t peel his eyes off you for even a second as the woman who had become his second mother took him in a warm loving embrace. “She’ll be out for a while sweetheart, they gave her a sedative to help her brain rest.” 

“How long?” Jake asked as he held your mother tight. 

“About ten—maybe twelve hours, she only just started the drip.” 

“Oh—okay, yeah no that.” Jake tried to hold himself together but the damn was breaking. “That’s probably for the b-bet—oh god.” Jake Seresin had never felt his entire body crumbled into someone the way he felt his body crumble into your mothers arms. 

“Oh my boy it’s alright, she’s alive, she’s gonna be okay.” Your mother tried her best to soothe Jake's cries but she knew it was coming from a place of love and undeniable sadness. “Here, sit down, I’ll go get you a coffee and something to eat.” 

Jake took a seat next to your bedside and immediately reached out for your hand. He knew you were under and wouldn’t know he was there but he still brought your palm up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your hand. 

“Oh Honey I’m so sorry this is happening to you.” He sobbed quietly as your mother stood behind him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know.” 

“She hasn’t told anyone but me Jake, not her friends or her brother.” It was hard to process the sight before him, the love of Jake's life surrounded by machines, hooked by cords and wires and monitors that told him although your eyes were closed you were in fact, alive. “I don’t think she wanted you to know because she’s just so scared despite how she might put on a brave face.” 

“Or she thought I wouldn’t care.” Jake mumbled as he reached out to make sure your hair was resting behind your ear, part of your head had been shaved from surgery, but Jake never expected the hair he tried to move back behind your ear to fall out at his touch. “Oh my god—“

“She’s been on oral chemotherapy since her biopsy came back cancerous, she needed you to take the kids so she could start more aggressive IV chemo.” 

“Her hair’s already falling out?” Jake had never felt this way before, so rendered powerless. He’d taken a life before and saved many, but watching you right now was the most powerless he’d ever felt. Jake caught the sight of your phone flashing with a new message with a name he didn't recognise. There was no time to ask you about the message he saw, but jake knew maybe, just maybe, you had lied when you told him there was no other guy. 

Jensen: “Oh shit, I'll swing by once I'm out of the woods.”

“Aggressive cancer needs aggressive treatment sweetheart.” Your mother leaned in to kiss the top of Jake's head. “I’ll be back, coffee and a sandwich will do you good.” 

“Thanks Maz.” Jake sighed as he kept your hand up near his mouth as he leaned his elbows on the side of your bed. “Oh Honey, Honey, Honey—what have we become?”

***~***~***~***~***~***

Your honeymoon was the most beautiful trip you’d ever gone on. Jake Seresin was very much a summer man. He loved when the sun was shining and the water was cool and the beers were as refreshing as they ever could be. 

The resort in Bali that the two of you were staying at for the entire two weeks was nothing but picturesque with stunningly gorgeous gardens and extraordinary architecture. The pool you were sitting on the edge of was just one of the many pools that you and Jake had yet to visit. He stood on the ledge of the rock waterfall and smiled ear to ear. 

“I’m not resuscitating you when you slip and hit your head!” You called out through a beaming smile. 

“Reckon I could clear a backflip?” Jake asked childishly as he climbed to the very top. His abs looked far too perfect to be real as he stood tall and flexed just for you, his wife. 

“Jake Seresin, don't you dare!” You warned as you looked over your sunglasses at your childish husband. He was everything any more, how you got so lucky you'd never understand. The two of you had decided on a small elopement style wedding that saw only a handful of your closest family members in attendance. The both of you saw no need for over the top extremities and thoughts of dollars spent on a single night. You thought why not use the money on a holiday getaway, your dream honeymoon. After Rodney had gone on his happiness never ends tangent, Jake wished the two of you had just gone down to town hall. 

“Live a little Mrs Seresin!” Jake shouted as he took the leap of faith and backflipped off the very top of the man made rock waterfall that cascaded down into the crystal clear pool. The two of you were the only guests in sight which you were so thankful for when Jake came belly flopping down into the water with a crisp slap. 

“Oh!” You cringed hard as your husband hit the water. “That's gotta hurt the ego buddy.” You giggled as you watched Jake swim under the water closer to the edge where you sat just relaxing in the smallest bikini known to mankind. “Jake?” You asked as he crept closer and closer under the water. Your eyes never left his swimming silhouette until he was jumping up right in front of you to rest his elbows on the edge of the pool right in front of you. 

“My execution was a little off.” He grinned as you leaned in to give him a kiss. Unbeknownst to you though as your lips pressed against your husbands, his hands snakes around your waist to quickly drag you into the water where Jake needed you to be. With him, forever. 

“JAKE!” You shouted as you fell into the pool. Jake couldn't contain his laughter. Thank god he remembered you knew how to swim. 

“Yes Honey?” He cooed as you resurfaced with a gasp. 

“You’re a child!” 

“Uh no–I'm not.” Jake made sure to correct you as he pulled you closer under the water. His hand explored your ass as he wrapped your legs around his waist and held you up against him. You could feel his hard on pressing against your core, it wouldn't take much at all for him to slip out of his trunks and into you if he wanted to. 

“But if you want I can show you how they're made?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @blindedbythelightt @starset21 @tayl0rhuynh @mamachasesmayhem @marvelogic @itsmytimetoodream @maverick-wingman @kodzukenmaaa @eternalsams @seitmai @nota-professional @jessicab1991 @hardballoonlove @senawashere @lafrone @fanficfandomlove @withahappyrefrain @dizzybee03 @maisie-rebloging-blog @goldenseresinretriever @a-reader-and-a-writer @sunlightmurdock @shelbycillian @memoriesat30 @accioprocrastination @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @athenabarnes @eternallyvenus @emma8895eb

[cntloup]

Fem!Reader fluff, mention of love making, allusion to sex

Part 1 | Part 2

It's a sunday morning. The sun shines through the kitchen window and reaches your profile, seeming like a halo around your head. Your eyebrows are furrowed and your eyes focused on the task at hand. You flip the pancake and feel a pair of big burly arms wrap around your torso from behind, "Good morning, lovie!" he breathes into your ear, his gruff morning voice sending shivers through your body. "Good morning, Si!" you mutter as you turn around to place a kiss on his lips. "You look beautiful today... as you do everyday... you're always beautiful, dove!" he rambles as he peppers kisses on every part of your pretty face, making you giggle. "Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. I made coffee too." "Perfect! Thank you, love." he says as he takes a seat at the table. You place his plate of pancakes with chocolate syrup and a cup of coffee in front of him. He nods gratefully as you seat down. You talk about some new events happening at work and he listens, occasionally asking questions or making sarcastic comments about your annoying coworkers. He stares at you in awe, wondering how he got so lucky. You both spend the rest of the day in each other's arms. He makes love to you, softly cooing praises into your ear as he brings you to a state of pure euphoria. You lazily plump down on the couch watching trash tv and making fun of the awful people on the shows, laughing your asses off. You stare at him in awe, wondering how you got so lucky. He snaps his fingers in front of your face, shaking you out of your trance. "Hey, what is it?" he asks, "You've been acting weird lately!" "What? Nothing, just thinking about... stuff." you ramble nervously. "Is there something wrong?" he questions worriedly. "No! It's just about work. I'm sorry I've been acting weird. You don't have to worry about it." you respond. Thank god he doesn't pry any further and only adds "I'm here if you need me. With anything. And I mean anything. If someone is bothering you-" "No, Si! No one is bothering me. I don't need you to murder anyone either. Just stressing about work. Too much pressure." you lie terribly and he looks at you through narrowed eyes but lets it slide. As night falls, you're curled up in bed together as you both have your books in hands and read peacefully in a comfortable silence. But your focus is on something else. Should you pop the question right now? Do it casually and get it over with. No, he deserves a proper proposal. You finally decide on the latter. "Hey!" his voice rattles you out of your thoughts. "What?" you ask, looking up at him. He's starting to get suspicious. You have to do it sooner than planned. You can’t take it any longer. "I asked if you wanted to sleep." he replies, "I'm starting to get worried, love. Just tell me that you're ok." You cup his cheeks in your hands and whisper "I'm ok, Si. No need to worry." and kiss him as you straddle his lap. You both end up panting heavily and giggling, bodies tangled together by midnight.

It's a saturday night. The moonlight shines through the branches of cherry blossoms and reaches you, standing amidst the trees in the garden, making a dreamy scene. You fidget with the zipper of your jacket and fumble with your fingers nervously as you wait for him. He finally arrives, in a suit, looking handsome as ever. "Hi, lovie." he greets you, kissing your lips lovingly. "Hey, Si." you respond, taking in his beautiful features alight by the moon. You take his hand in yours and guide him to the table. You both take your seats beside each other and start chatting about everything and nothing, unable to take your eyes and hands off each other, as the waiter places your orders in front of you. After dinner, you go silent, grab your purse in your shaky hands and pull out the small black box. His eyes widen and his mouth hangs open as you lock eyes with him. "Simon Riley,... you met me at my worst" you chuckle nervously, "and pulled me out of the dark abyss I was in. You brighten my skies every day and make me laugh with your awful dad jokes" you remark, making him laugh as tears start to well up in both your and his eyes, "Do you want to be a dad? You've already got the jokes down... ok, that's a discussion for another time." You both chuckle again, "Fuck! I'm really terrible at this. I didn't prepare a speech and decided to wing it. I'm so sorry." he nuzzles your cheek, wiping away your tears as he pulls you in for a kiss, reassuring you that it's ok. "I'm forever grateful for everything you've done for me. I love you. Everything about you. Everything that you are. Your light and your darkness. You're the love of my life and I want to spend the rest of my life with you." you continue, "Simon Riley, will you marry me?" you finally ask as you open the box and hold it in front of him. You're both sobbing at this point. "Yes!" he gets the word out and pushes his lips onto yours, kissing you passionately, both your feelings for each other poured into the kiss. You take his hand in yours and put the ring on his finger. "I'm all yours, love." he murmurs against your lips, "And I'm all yours, Si."

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥

[manias-wordcount]

View of Paradise (Satoru Gojo x Reader) PART FOUR

[𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙀 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘾𝙃𝙊𝘾𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀 𝙁𝘼𝘾𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔 𝘼𝙐]

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗼𝗺𝗴 𝘄𝗲'𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘃𝗶𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗵𝗲𝗲

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁: 𝗼𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝘄𝗼 || 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿 || 𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲 || 𝘀𝗶𝘅 || 𝘀𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 || 𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗲 || 𝘁𝗲𝗻 || 𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 || ���𝘄𝗲𝗹𝘃𝗲 || 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗳𝗶𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗲𝗻 || 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲…

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

The walk back home is uneventful as always. But the way you get to step through the door with your little brother and be treated like heroes is completely worth the silent trek from the diner in the dark.

You’re barely able to shrug off your cardigan and step through the door before Yuuta is shouting “Look what we got!” at your family. He’s more than excited as he takes the boxes of food off of you. And you can’t help but wonder if that excitement is more because cabbage won’t be for dinner tonight or if it’s because of that chocolate bar sitting in his pocket right now. Either way, his smile is wide and childlike and carefree as he hands over the to-go containers to your Mom and the pot of cabbage she’s standing over and tells her exactly which container belongs to whom. It’s as it should be. It’s as you want it to be.

At least for the night.

The floor creaks under your footsteps as you step further into your house. Though house isn’t always an appropriate word for you to use, in your opinion. It’s an old thing. With old, rotting wood that is slowly being replaced and a broken roof that just barely leaks on a good day. Some of the walls weren’t sealed perfectly, so it’s always a surprise when you find a new hole that you swear was sealed up two years ago. And overall, there’s a tilt to the walls too. Your house lives on a slant. Holds itself up at an aggressive angle. A visible lean that always used to make you worried that one day, the house will collapse on your poor dear family. But you’ve survived your coldest winters and your windiest storms in this shack. You have faith in it. Even if it does look like it’s falling apart and slowly coming down with each passing day. But it’s home.

Your home.

And everybody is here right now. Existing happily on the bottom floor of the shack and interacting with each other. There are only three rooms on the bottom floor of your house. Your parent's room, the bathroom, and everything else. The kitchen, the dining room, and the spot in front of the old fatback TV (that only plays the 24/7 news cycle) where your bed-ridden grandparents stay in all day and all night are all together. The upstairs (if you could even call it that), is just a simple loft that you and Yuuta sleep in. It’s cramped, with your modest bed and his nearly squished together. Barely any room for personal items. He’s outgrowing the bed up there too- your old one when you were his age- but he doesn’t say anything about how he’s too tall to lie there without his legs starting to hang off the bottom of the bed. You know deep down inside he probably wishes for more. Wishes for better. But selfishly, you’re happy he doesn’t ask for it. Your family just can’t afford it. They just can’t.

You shake your head suddenly, trying to push the somber thoughts about living this life away in favor of putting a smile on your face and joining your parents and your little brother in the kitchen. Your mother looks at you warmly when she tells you to go wash up. The container with the meatloaf for her and your father is still in her hands, and tears are pricking at her eyes despite her own smile spreading across her lips. Your father sends you a look beneath the permanently tired expression on his face. One that you know all too well, even though they tried to hide it from you your entire life.

It’s relief.

Relief because without this food, they would have gone hungry tonight.

And maybe you would have too. There have been some days you take a hit alongside them as the oldest and one of the family breadwinners. But you try to push that thought in the corner of your mind as you stand over the sink and wash your hands with your little brother. You use the soap and water sparingly. Enough to wash the dirt off your hands and not a second longer before cleaning it on an old towel with fraying edges. Your dad had already cut the hoagies for your grandparents, and your Mom went to fetch some clean plates for them to sit on. Yuuta tries to ask if you need help carrying over your grandparent’s food to their table, but your Grandpa Aibara is quick to cheer you on- asking if you break out some of your waitressing skills and serve them like they’re at your diner right now.

In truth, you’re tired. Your feet ache, and you’re more than ready to strip off this uniform and go to sleep without talking to anyone again until morning. But your Grandpa Aibara looks so cheery and hopeful, despite his graying hair and his unfortunate situation. The rest of your grandparents do too- even the usually grumpy Grandpa Kusakabe seems to be mildly interested in what you do. 

So, for one more time tonight, you put on your most dazzling smile and you up your customer service voice. You take all four plates in your hand- balancing them between fingers and palms and using your wrists and upper arms to keep them stabilized. The faces of your grandparents light up as you bring them food as if they were finally able to rise to their feet after all these years and visit you at your diner. But they can’t. And you don’t know if they ever will. So at the very least, you can be a good granddaughter. You can give them a show.

The TV is on and running a story about the economy as you approach. But the volume is low, and the screen isn’t very bright, so you don’t have to compete much for anyone’s attention. The first person you start off with is Grandma Utahime. She’s the closest to where you were originally standing, and she’s the one who needs the most assistance in the end. You’re very, very slow and very, very careful as you place the plate in her hands. Her tremors have gotten worse, you noticed, now that you’re up close. The scar across the majority of her face that was once healing very nicely has slowed down all its progress. But you still call her ma’am and look at her like she’s still the prettiest woman you’ve ever met as you ensure her fingers are closed firmly around the plate.

Yuuta followed behind you as you brought the food over. And he’s quick to swoop in to help Grandma Utahime hold her plate while she brings the sandwich up to her lips once you step away to serve your next customer. You can see out of the corner of your eyes when the frustration growing on her face takes over completely, and she struggles to feed herself. But when she glances at you and your younger brother, the anger disappears into something a little more exhausted, but grateful.

The next person you serve is Grandpa Aibara. And despite sickness attacking his body non-stop and keeping him in his seat, he’s bouncing and wiggling around in his bed with a bright, bright smile. One that has you widening your smile impossibly wider too. His cheer is infectious, and only ends up growing as you place his half of the meager-looking hoagie into his awaiting arms with a simple “Here you are, sir.” You can tell his mouth is watering as he looks down at the sandwich. It’s nothing special, but it’s not often you’re able to bring this much food back for your family. A lifetime of cabbage will do that to someone. So you’re not even surprised when he leans over on the edge of the bed and delivers a kind kiss to your cheek before he turns his attention back to his food. Not without reaching out and ruffling Yuuta’s hair a little, of course.

As you round the other side of the bed, you’re standing closer to the TV. It draws your eyes for a second as you adjust the food in your hands and approach the next person. But the story on the TV is just as boring as ever. Even so, Grandpa Kusakabe tries to look neutral and distracted by what’s on the screen as you stop in front of him. But you’re able to see past his uninterested look all too well. The twitching of his eager fingers that are trying their hardest not to reach out for the food in your hands gives it all away. So you don’t waste a single second of time before putting the plate of food on his lap

“Thank you, sweetheart,” He mumbles to you, eyes only meeting yours for a second. You smile again. A genuine one, before hitting him with a ‘You’re very welcome, grandpa’ and moving over to the next person. You pretend not to notice his excitement struggling to be contained as he takes a bite out of something that isn’t cabbage for the first time in a long, long time.

You head over to your last grandparent- Grandma Shoko. Around you, your house has erupted in a pleasant bout of noise. Grandpa Aibara is already halfway through his sandwich, even though he just told everyone he intends to savor it. Grandpa Kusakabe is quick to tell him to stop his yammering, which your mother giggles at (beneath a hand that does a very, very, very poor job at hiding it. Yuuta is still with Grandma Utahima, helping her take small bites of her food and keeping her from spilling bits of lettuce and tomatoes onto herself. However, every now and then, she stops eating in favor of shouting at your dad to keep eating his meatloaf and to keep his hands off of yours and Yuta’s fries before she “comes over there.” And your poor little brother can’t help but have his expression teeter between embarrassment, surprise, and laughter at your family’s antics.

Still, you don’t want to leave your last grandparent out of the fun. So you hand over the last plate to a quiet Grandma Shoko who gives you a sweet, motherly look and tells you just how proud she is of you for growing up to be who you are now. The compliment warms your cheeks and causes you to stammer over your words a little bit. But you thank her anyway.

But just as you straighten up from your last food delivery, a sudden noise catches your attention. Out of instinct, you shush everyone loudly. You almost forget for a moment you’re at home and not the diner where you can shush all the other waitresses to hear something and not have it be seen as a sign of disrespect. But you’re not at the diner. You’re at home. And from across the room, you hear your mother scold you lightly. You also hear Grandpa Kusakabe grumbling again. Mentioning something about “kids these days” under his breath. But you don’t really hear him or your mom. You don’t really hear anything. 

Except for the news anchor on the TV’s fuzzy screen running a story with the BREAKING NEWS symbol underneath him. And as your family quiets down with you, they start to hear what you’re hearing. They start to see what you’re seeing. And even though the picture quality is terrible, you’ve spent enough time in front of this TV to read the message that’s being displayed to you right now.

And you’ve spent your entire life wishing for a miracle like this to happen to you too.

~~~ DEAR PEOPLE OF THE WORLD,

I, GOJO SATORU HAVE DECIDED TO ALLOW FIVE CHILDREN TO VISIT MY FACTORY THIS YEAR. THESE LUCKY FIVE WILL BE SHOWN AROUND PERSONALLY BY ME, AND WILL LEARN ALL THE SECRETS AND THE MAGIC OF MY FACTORY

FIVE GOLDEN TICKETS HAVE BEEN HIDDEN UNDERNEATH THE ORDINARY WRAPPING PAPER OF FIVE ORDINARY WONKA BARS. THESE FIVE CANDY BARS MAY BE ANYWHERE - IN ANY SHOP IN ANY STREET IN ANY TOWN IN ANY COUNTRY IN THE WORLD

IN ADDITION, ONE OF THESE CHILDREN SHALL RECEIVE A SPECIAL PRIZE BEYOND ANYTHING YOU COULD EVER IMAGINE. GOOD LUCK TO ALL, AND HAPPY HUNTING!

GOJO SATORU

~~

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞🪞

87 for 🪞:

---

Not long after that, she starts puking. 

“She must have caught Carla’s stomach bug,” he tells Eddie over the phone. “I’m really sorry to have exposed you to it.” 

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eddie says. “I have years of built up parent immunity from Chris. You, on the other hand? Are fucked.” 

“Parent immunity? Is that a thing?” Buck challenges. 

“When I came back from Afghanistan I got sick all the time. Every little bug going around Christopher’s school, I got it. Last few years? Nothing.” 

“Maybe Chris was washing his hands more, man,” Buck reasons. 

Eddie chuckles. “Either way, I’d put money on me being fine and you getting sick.”

Buck sighs. “Any advice?”

“Buckets everywhere,” Eddie counsels. “Do not trust a six year-old to make it to the toilet.” 

It’s going to be a long fucking night. 

v.

The next morning, it takes Buck longer than it should to realize he is also sick. Which is comical, because he was fully expecting it. It’s just that, after a night of not sleeping for more than forty minutes at a time, cleaning vomit off the bathroom floor, and soothing Dove as she went through what seemed particularly hellish, he just thought he was tired. 

Usually, though, exhaustion doesn’t lead to puking. Usually. 

He’d had enough foresight to keep the contents of his stomach relatively mild. So it’s not as painful as it might have been. But it’s still a stomach flu. The kind that leaves your throat burning and your bache aching and your stomach and ribs sore from wretching. The kind that leaves you feverish and delirious. 

He’s been through it all before, of course. Hell, he’s had comparable hangovers, in the worst of his party days. Point is, Buck knows how to be sick. He can handle it. Except, usually, he’s on his own. He’s never been this sick while someone was depending on him. And that’s sort of scary. 

Dove sleeps most of the morning, to make up for what she missed overnight. During which time, Buck is progressively getting worse. He texts Eddie to say he was right, Buck is fucked, and then hopes that Dove stays asleep until he’s over the hill of this, so to speak. 

She does not. 

Dove wakes up with a new life breathed into her. She’s not better. She stills ‘feels icky’ and doesn’t want to eat anything other than dry Cheerios. But she’s got some of her energy back, and she’s functional. But Buck is not. He’s struggling and getting worse. He keeps retching straight bile and he can hardly stay focused to save his life. Everything that touches his skin hurts. He’s sweating and freezing. He wants to lay on the bathroom tiles and moan. 

He cannot. He needs to take care of Dove. 

Dragging a long empty paint bucket around the house with him so he can hurl at a moment’s notice, Buck does his best. He sets her up on on the end of the couch with a box of Cheerios and a water bottle and a bucket of her own in case she needs to puke again. He puts Phineas and Ferb on the TV from the very beginning. The length of a single movie might not be enough and she hasn’t seen this show before. It’ll keep her attention. He makes sure she knows how to use the remote. 

“I’ll be right here with you, okay?” He says. “But if I get sick or fall asleep, and you need to pause, you can. If you need anything you need to tell me, because my head is super fuzzy.”

“Okay, Buck,” she says. “Sorry I made you sick.”

“No, sweetie,” he says. “You didn’t. That’s just how germs work.”

“Germs?” Dove asks.

“That’s what makes people sick,” he explains. “But don’t worry, we’ll both be okay.”

Then, he lays curled on the other end of the couch, bucket in front of him, in the best position he can manage to not feel like he’s on the edge of death. And though he doesn’t mean to, it’s not even two episodes in before Buck falls asleep. 

▪️▪️▪️

He opens his eyes to the sound of a voice that isn’t silly or cartoonish or Dove’s. Deep. Male. Familiar, but out of place. 

“-crackers,’ it’s saying. “And ginger ale. But you’re going to want to let it go flat.”

“Soda isn’t flat, Eddie.”

Eddie.

A warm chuckle. “No, no. That just means, the bubbles go away.”

[marshmellowfluff221]

Playing Games/Card Games w/ Gojo & Nanami

Situation Prompt List

A/N Thank you for your request! I had a lot of fun writing this one hueh

-

It started as your day off. Sleeping in, ordering breakfast to be delivered to your door, and queuing up your favorite TV show, ready to catch up on the latest episode. As you were munching down on your breakfast sandwich, a knock came at the door. Furrowing your brows you stood and wiped your mouth as you opened the door without hesitation. You should have hesitated.

In front of you stood Gojo, with a wide smile, holding up various boxes of board games. Behind Gojo stood Nanami, the same annoyed expression he always had around Gojo. You blinked, once, then twice, then slammed the door.

"Hey!" Gojo yelled as if it was him you had hit, which would've been impossible. You failed at being fast enough to lock the door and Gojo opened it himself. "Y/n why are you so grumpy today?"

"Me?" You raised your eyebrows as dramatically as you could. "Oh I don't know, maybe because its my day off? Maybe because I wanted to be alone on my day off? Sorry, did I mention its my day off?"

Gojo definitely didn't have the day off. Ever since he had those 3 kids under his supervision he hasn't had a day off. Nanami, on the other hand, probably did actually have a day off. You didn't mind either of their company, but having to work with them all week and then see them now did bother you just slightly.

"Good morning Y/n." Nanami greeted, stepping through the door. "This was my idea..."

"Can you believe it? He actually had a good idea for once!" Gojo pointed at Nanami as if presenting him for you. You furrowed your brow.

"What idea?" You asked, walking over to your breakfast sandwich and taking another bite.

"You were talking all week saying you missed the games you used to play as a kid." Nanami explained in his monotone voice. "So we found them, as a thank you."

"Thank you?" You questioned.

"You're welcome." Gojo winked and you gave him a face of dissapointment. He placed the board games on your dining table and slung an arm around your shoulders. "Come on Y/n you talked about this all week, just one game."

You looked at Gojo who wore his goofy smile and then at Nanami who gestured towards the table. You scanned over the boxes, recognizing almost all of them. Mousetrap, Monopoly, UNO, and Scrabble. You always had a soft spot for these two men in your living room. You let out a long sigh, throwing your hands up in defeat.

"Fine."

"Yes! Let's start with strip Scrabble." Gojo spoke as he grabbed the Scrabble box and shook it.

"No." Nanami and you spoke at the same time.

"You're right, we'll play it last. Ok then Mousetrap." Gojo began opening the box, probably more excited to play than you or Nanami. While Gojo set up the game Nanami turned to you.

"This is a thank you for always being there for us. I know I complain about wanting a vacation but you really pulled through this week." Nanami placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. You didn't look up at him, just at Gojo as he fumbled with the pieces. If you looked at him you might have melted into butter right there and then. He knew this and didn't question your lack of response.

"Let me do it granny." You sighed walking over to Gojo and grabbing the various pieces from his hands. "Come on Nanami let's be on a team."

"Hey, there are no teams in this game." Gojo complained, grabbing the instructions to cite his sources.

The three of you began to play the game, slowly building up the elaborate mousetrap. Eventually it was built and Gojo was the first to be trapped who then began complaining about teaming. He fake cried into your shoulder for the rest of the game.

Next was UNO. A few rounds and Nanami had raged saying there were other games to play. He was only upset that you and Gojo continuously stacked plus two's onto him.

Around this time you decided to order dinner. It was late so the three of you started Monopoly. You had explained how to play the quick version of Monopoly but somehow you endedup playing until 3AM. Somehow money and properties had gotten mixed up and there was no clear winner.

Gojo and Nanami packed up. Gojo was reluctant because according to him you had stalled with Monopoly long enough to not play Strip Scrabble. You offered them to stay the night but they had work in the morning and left around 4AM. You had finally plopped down onto your couch, your show still waiting to be played. One episode, you had decided.

You fell asleep one minute in.

[whisperingthorns]

(Yandere Ticci Toby x Reader)

Charmed by Shadows

Chapter 3: Closer Than You Think

Tags: NSFW (I did mark it so you can skip it)

Find chapter two here:

Toby believed it was punishment. The vision of his love, rotting in his arms. A punishment from you that was letting him know, subconsciously, that he wasn’t doing a good enough job.

‘Oh Angel, I’m so sorry. I’ll be better from now on, promise’

These were his thoughts as he stood just outside her house, cloaked in the shadows of the trees, watching the warm light from her window flicker as she moved about inside. His breath was shallow, his heartbeat erratic, but not from fear—no, it was excitement. The thrill of getting closer to her, to something more personal.

She was so close, yet so far.

Waiting for the perfect moment, he stayed still as the minutes dragged on, hidden in the quiet night. Eventually, the light in her window clicked off, and he heard the unmistakable sound of her balcony door that led to her room closing softly. His pulse quickened. She was asleep. Toby stayed around for another hour.

Quietly, Toby crept towards the house, eyes scanning for any signs of movement. He knew her routine well by now—how long it took for her to fall into that deep sleep, the exact hours when the house was most vulnerable.

He had studied everything.

He carefully went to her front door. He examined the space for a minute, lifting the mat and looking for a key. No dice. At least his darling was a bit smarter than most people he knew. He was picking up rocks and looking in plant pots but no key…that was when he noticed a box attached to the wall by the door. He narrowed his eyes and switched over tiny level. There was a click and the box opened to a safe code. Oh. This must be where her extra key is.

Toby clicked his tongue. What could the code be though? Thankfully it wasn’t electric. Toby hated stuff like that, most of the time he only had so many guesses before it alerted someone. Either sending a message to their phone, an alarm sounding, or something Toby just didn’t wanna deal with. Hmm…

Oh gosh. Toby just couldn’t think of what it could be. He’s already tried her birthday, the year she was born, and anything else he could think of. Alright. Time to do this the old-fashioned way.

Click.  Click. Click. Click.

1111…1112…1113…1114…

⦻

‘You’ve got to be shitting me’ Toby didn’t know whether to be pissed at you, or himself. Pissed because one, the code was too easy to guess and that was dangerous. Two, he’s mad he didn’t think to guess it in the first place. Three he’s wasted all this time on this stupid lock box! The box unlocked and clicked open when he tried the code ‘4444’ Really?! Angel numbers…hm. Either way, the key was his! Yay! He could’ve just picked the lock but his angel would grow scared, and probably be able to tell it was messed with. Plus he wanted the key so he could check on her whenever he felt like it. He’ll make a copy tomorrow and return when she goes to work! Much easier than picking the lock…

Once inside, the faint scent of her perfume filled the air, and it was almost enough to make him stop in his tracks. But not yet. Not until he had a piece of her for himself.

Toby started to take a little look around, going from her entrance and into the living room. It was very sweet and cozy with plush furniture and a big TV. He noticed a game station near the bottom. She did seem to have a love for three things: Video games, Cooking, and music. All of which were Toby’s favorite things too! Ever since he met you it was anyway.

He passed the living room and entered a very large kitchen. It was beautiful and updated lots of times it seems. He opened the fridge and his face lit up at the plate of brownies sitting in the fridge. He took one, stuffing it in his mouth greedily. Almost melting. He’d been watching over her, sure. He knew she loved to cook but god why didn’t anyone tell him it was so damn good! This was the best brownie he’s ever had! He quickly started to look for other dishes in the fridge. He found a leftover container and grabbed it, popping it open to see another homemade dish and a slice of pie. “Shiiit. That’s mine now.” He said grinning. He can’t take the brownies. It looked fresh and she was gonna notice a whole plate of brownies missing. That she just baked. But Toby had watched her make this dish and pie 3 days ago. She won’t notice. Surely. She’ll just gaslight herself into thinking she ate it.

On down the hall, he found a boring guest room and a very clean bathroom. She didn’t use this one. He turned around and went up the stairs, freezing when he heard one creak loudly.

‘Stupid old house’

He continued forward. Finding another hallway, he tried the door closest to the stairs first. He raised his brow when he found what seemed to be her hobby room. A piano and other various things sat in this room, he stepped inside, noting the various sheets of music and artwork on the walls and scattered across things. Her creative space. Toby picked a page off the floor, smiling at the notes written down. Something about the stars and such. He noticed a map of the planets and stars across various papers. He appreciated the peek into her head…

He left that room, closing the door and creeping down the hall. Finally. The door was barely open and soft music was playing from her tablet. He knew she had issues sleeping without music. Though he knew she didn’t like white noise. Only music…and occasionally…theta…is that how you say it? Theta waves? Focus!

He entered the room silently, barely brushing by the door, but his foot tapped it slightly and it creaked. You groaned and rolled over.

Toby’s heart stopped beating.

He let out a small breath when he saw you remain asleep though. He went to your bed and stood over you for a moment, the moonlight from your double doors that led to the balcony shone on your sleeping form. Toby’s breath caught in his throat. You were just so beautiful. He noticed you were half out of the blanket, his gaze shifted to a folded one near the foot of your bed. He unwrapped it and shook it out, draping it over you, he stepped over to a fan you had blowing and turned it up a bit. There we go. Can’t have sweet Angel losing sleep.

He started to take a look around, not too sure what he came for, but when his eyes landed on your vanity next to your dresser, he knew exactly what he wanted. The bottle of perfume sitting there in plain sight. That was it. That’s what he came for. He needed her scent—something he could take with him, something that would keep him close to her even when he wasn’t watching.

Slowly, he picked up the bottle, inhaling deeply as the scent of vanilla and strawberries washed over him. It was intoxicating. She was intoxicating.

He pocketed the perfume, a twisted sense of satisfaction filling him. This was just the beginning. He was no longer content with watching her from afar. Now, he was inside her world. Closer than anyone else. Closer than Kai.

Maybe she would notice, but Toby didn’t care. You were his so he had a sort of…right by extension to your things.

…

Speaking of things. His gaze shifted to her dresser. He carefully opened the top drawer and was delighted to see it as your panty drawer. His face went a bit pink, his eyes widening. He took his time shifting through it when suddenly he noticed his hand was red. What? He lifted it out to see he had somehow sliced it open. Fuck. He covered it with his sleep trying to get it to stop bleeding….it looked kinda bad. He would deal with it when he got home but how did this happen? He looked in the drawer and saw something shiny reflecting in the moonlight.

He reached in and carefully picked it up. A knife with a pretty handle. Awe. How cute! Knife in the pantie drawer. He loves learning new things about his angel. He supposed she kept this for self-defense, but Toby knew from experience that if he wanted to kill her, he could get to her before she got to the knife. I mean, just look at his poor Angel. He was in the room going through her things while she slept on, oblivious. Poor baby. Toby finished his little look but didn’t close the drawer without claiming a second prize. He shoved the white laced panties in his pocket along with the perfume.

He was about to leave, when he spotted her trashcan by the door, taking a glance at her he grabbed it and took it to the hallway where it would be safer to rummage through. He looked through the discarded body sprays, cosmetics, tissue wrappers, and- hey.

A scarf. Torn at the edges, frayed like it had been well-loved, then tossed aside. Toby narrowed his eyes, tilting his head slightly.

As a proxy, you get what you can get. You didn’t get new clothes or new things. They were allowed to steal from victims' wallets though. They mostly used it for food and necessities. If there was an ATM nearby and you could figure out the pin, you can take what’s in their account too. That was rare. The proxies called those kills ‘Paydays’. Nobody used cash anymore. Masky always seemed to have stacks of it, but Toby didn’t. Which is why he’s still wearing the same gear he wore when he was seventeen. He was done growing then anyway. He learned how to sew just so he could keep patching it up. Held up well. Of course, he had other clothes but he rather not risk the newer stuff.

So running across a perfectly good scarf? What a privilege. That’s when he remembered: This was (Y/n)s scarf. Not just any scarf. Slowly, he knelt, fingers trembling with excitement as they curled around the fabric. The texture was soft under his touch, and he lifted it to his face, inhaling deeply. Faint traces of her scent still clung to it. A smile spread across his lips as he pressed the scarf against his cheek. This was hers. It didn’t matter that she thought it was worthless now—he could still feel her in it.

He dug deeper into the bin, his heart racing with every crumpled receipt and broken hair tie he found. All of it mattered. Even the smallest, most insignificant item held a piece of her.

His fingers brushed against something hard at the bottom—a small, broken bracelet. A delicate charm hung from it, shaped like a star. He picked it up, examining the crack in the chain. She must have worn it often, and when it finally snapped, she tossed it without a second thought. Toby, however, saw this as fate—a sign that he was meant to have it now, to cherish it like she never could.

‘You don’t throw away something like this, Angel…’ he thought, turning the bracelet over in his hands, his mind spinning with the twisted logic that somehow, in collecting her trash, he was becoming closer to her. More intimate.

"S-she doesn't re-realize the value these things still- still have… maybe she nev-never will. But that's oh-okay—I'll take care of them for h-her.” He mumbled to himself.

Looking down at the items he realized he couldn’t take them all, so he opted for the scarf and bracelet, hoping that would be less noticeable. He thought about how sad the objects must feel. They might wanna stay with her a little longer. But it’s okay. He’s just gonna rescue them for a while. After all, he’ll love them dearly knowing who they belong to.

With that he took a last look at her, returned her can, and kissed her forehead, turning up the music on her tablet and heading out, taking care to skip the step that creaked and grabbing the leftovers off the counter before heading out the door, making sure it was locked up tight.

⦻

TW:NSFW (continue after second line)

___________________________________________

Morning light shone through Toby’s boarded window. The old shack, one of the proxy's outposts was pretty worn down. It was a rickety old place, that was pretty much rotting, but it was a place to sleep, the doors locked and there was power, shown from the single hanging light bulb in the tiny kitchen. Toby’s ‘room’ door was off its hinges, but it still closed and he didn’t live with anyone so who cares?

As light flooded onto the bare mattress, a thin blanket was thrown to the side as he arched slightly. The room was filled with your perfume. Toby’s cock was wrapped in your panties, him jacking off furiously…already had come twice he was going again. “Hah! Haaah- (Y/n)!”

He could practically imagine you riding him, fully undressed, tits bouncing, as you took all his cock like a good girl. Having it be such a perfect fit. “T-Toby!” You were so innocent, cheeks dark and flushed, big (e/c) eyes watering as you look at him, before rolling up. “Haaah!”

“Feel good princess?”

“Mhm!” He watched as you lost momentum, trying hard to keep going but no longer having the strength. Whispering to him. Hoping your knight could fix it for you. Which he would. Gripping your hips and helping you ride him with ease. Moaning and gasping his name all the way. “T-TOBY!” You gasp almost ready to finish. “Harder…” Toby was almost there, he heard his phone go off but he ignored it, focusing on his daydream. “AH~” You shuddered against him, releasing juices down his cock. Toby buried his nose in your scarf as he came, imagining it was your neck, inhaling the sweet perfume.

_________________________________________

Gradually post nut clarity came, and he rolled over to answer the phone expecting to see his job for the day, instead received a pleasant surprise. Last night he had finally worked up the courage to text you. Claiming he had been busy and asking what you were up to. You have finally replied.

Nothing much. Making my friends go to a shitty horror movie lol. I am actually around that place we met. I’m going there to read but I wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out for a bit. It’s okay if you’re busy tho, no pressure! :)

I’m not busy. I’ll be right over hold on give me a minute to get there. It’s a bit of a walk.

Yay! 😁 see you there.

Without hesitation Toby was cleaning himself up, discarding your now sticky panties onto the bed, and stumbling to the bathroom to clean himself up.

⦻

You nervously check your phone for any updates. You knew it was a walk but he was taking a bit of time. She finally heard footsteps and she perked up. “Hey! Glad you could make it!”

"Y-yeah, n-no problem," Toby replied, his voice slightly uneven, though he forced a smile. Being this close to her always made him jittery, like he was a bundle of exposed nerves. But in a way, that thrill was what kept him going.

“So what have you been up to lately, neighbor? You haven’t been rescuing other girls from falling trees have you?” She joked.

"Uh... no. Just- just some st-stuff to ta-take care of," Toby mumbled, glancing at her hands, watching how she absentmindedly fiddled with the hem of her sleeve. He wanted to reach out, to touch her, to show her that he was there, but he stopped himself. Instead, he fidgeted with the zipper on his hoodie.

“Ooo Mr. Mysterious. Okay. I see how it is. One day I’ll get it out of you. It’s good you’re not rescuing other girls. That’s our thing, yes?”

Toby smiled sheepishly. When did he get so nervous? For god's sake, he chopped people up for a living! Toby’s heart skipped a beat. He wished he could tell her everything—the watching, the protecting, how he’d gone through her trash last night just to feel closer to her. But she wasn’t ready for that yet. He had to be patient.

"M-maybe," he said with a crooked grin, trying to play it cool. "I guess I'm just... not great at sh-sharing.”

(Y/n) smirked, leaning back against the bench. "I’ll get it out of you.” It seemed more like a statement than a suggestion. Toby liked that.

Toby couldn’t help but stare at her—she was so close, so comfortable around him. It was like she didn’t realize the effect she had on him. Or maybe she didn’t care. The way she laughed, how the wind tousled her hair, how she didn’t shy away from him. She was perfect, and she didn’t even know it.

It was quiet for a minute, (Y/n) seemed content with it though, unlike Toby where every passing second felt like an eternity. Especially with him trying not to think of the way he pictures her this morning. His eyes shifted to her body. Her curves. Her lips. Thankfully her eyes were closed and she was relaxing so she couldn’t tell he was bluntly eye fucking her.

“Hey.” She said suddenly opening an eye. Toby’s eyes looked at a random tree, pretending he hadn’t been staring at her…personality. Yeah.

“Do you ever just sit here and listen? Like…for the life? The wind in the trees and such. I don’t know, I feel like as humans we are always so busy. Nobody wants to stop and smell the roses anymore. I’m sorry I’m being like- so cringe right now I know-“

“No!” Toby said suddenly cutting her off. She blinked in surprise. “S-sorry I meant…no…I do sit and listen sometimes. I agree.”

He was lying. Toby’s head was never quiet, sometimes he hated noise but even when he was alone his mind was too preoccupied to be listening to the forest speak. He didn’t care what it had to say. It had ruined everything for him when he turned 17.

The only thing he wanted to listen to was her—her voice, her breathing, every little sound she made. The woods didn’t matter to him, but if it mattered to her, then he’d pretend it did.

“It’s nice out here. Safe. The joggers stay on the path so nobody comes to sit by the bench. None of my friends know too much about it either. It’s my safe space you know? It’s peaceful. Nobody demands anything from you…I could sit and do nothing, and the trees wouldn’t even mind. They don’t care who I am, what I’ve done, what I’ve accomplished, and what I’ve failed.”

Toby nodded, his eyes glued to her face, the way her eyes shifted, the way her lips pronounced the words. “Y-yeah…it’s quiet. S-safe.”

(Y/n) smiled at that. “Exactly. Safe.”

For a second, Toby’s throat tightened. If only she knew. She was safe because he was always watching, always making sure nothing happened to her. But she didn’t need to know that—yet.

“You seem much more calm than the last time I saw you. I guess since there are no falling trees to save me from huh?”

Toby shifted in his seat, clasping his hands together and squishing them between his knees in hopes of calming his nerves. His leg bounced nervously. "Y-yeah, I guess... it's 'cause you're here. You... make things easier.”

(Y/n)’s eyes softened. “That’s sweet, Toby. I’m glad we can hang out like this.”

His heart raced. Sweet? She thought he was sweet? He wanted to tell her that she was the reason for everything. That she made his world spin. But instead, he just swallowed it all down and smiled, nodding like it was no big deal.

Why? Why did you have to flash those pretty eyes at him? Why now of all times? After he’s killed and given himself to the slender? Now you show up? He watched you ramble on about whatever you wanted. Where were you his whole life? When his father was beating him and his sister was dying. While he was setting fires and carving into the skin with Masky and Hoodie where were you? Were you having trouble too? Were you struggling? He honestly never thought about your past, or how you came to be the person you are today. What did you do? What did you have to do to become so wonderful that even the gates of heaven were probably put to shame? Maybe she was in heaven. Maybe his angel was just a slice of the pie he would never get.

(Y/n) stood up, stretching her arms above her head. "Well, I should get going. Thanks for meeting up with me."

Toby’s pulse quickened. She was leaving already? But it was okay. They had this moment, and she had chosen him. He stood up too, not wanting the moment to end.

"S-sure. Anytime. Seriously. Just... text me." He hoped he didn’t sound too eager.

She gave him a soft smile, reaching out to lightly pat his arm. "I will, don’t worry. Take care, Toby."

The brief contact sent a jolt through him, and before he could say anything more, she turned and began walking down the trail.

He stood there for a long moment, watching her disappear into the trees. His hands were clenched into fists, trying to hold onto the feeling of her touch, the sound of her voice echoing in his mind.

Just as he was about to leave he noticed something flutter from her bag. A small piece of paper, partially hidden in the grass. Toby went over to grab it.

It was crumpled and worn as if it had been folded and unfolded many times. His pulse quickened when he recognized her handwriting. A list. A simple, mundane list—grocery items, a few reminders, and a note at the bottom that read, *"Don't forget to pick up extra flour for the cookies."*

It was a small piece of her head. Just like those star maps she liked to draw. He pressed the paper to his chest, closing his eyes and letting out a breath. He smiled. She didn’t even realize how close they were together. To her, he was a stranger.

To him, she was everything.

"Th-thank you, Angel," he whispered to the space around him. "F-for trusting me with this. I'll take care of it... just like I take care of you."

He pocketed the paper, feeling a renewed sense of purpose. This wasn’t just some meaningless scrap—it was a symbol. Proof that he was part of her world, even if she didn’t realize it yet. Also, she wasn’t just a hallucination. Toby was terrified that this was a wonderful dream, like the ones he used to have with his princess (well he guessed it was you actually,) or a lovely episode. If it was just all in his head, if he finally lost it (as if he hadn’t so long ago) then he’s okay with that. As long as he gets to keep you.

Toby walked away from the bench, the paper clutched tightly in his hand. He didn’t need her to say anything more. She had already given him everything he needed.

⦻

Toby was watching you from across the table, rambling on and on about work. The cozy cafe was warmer than the outside right now. Autumn was coming. Toby liked Autumn. What he didn’t like was his birthday was coming up. He tried his best to focus on you during this time. That and his work. What wondered what the others back home would be doing? Ben was pretty upset to learn Toby wouldn’t be around for the year. Masky celebrated. At least not in front of him but he was pretty sure he was in a better mood in the the days leading up to Toby’s departure. Hoodie couldn’t seem to care either way.

You had invited him out once again. It seemed you were determined to get closer to him. Toby wasn’t about to complain. He sipped his overly sweet-beverage. It tastes fine to him. He had gotten his coffee the same way you got yours. At least now know you like a bucket full of creamer in yours. Black like my soul? Not you. The beverage was practically milk. Toby sipped it more. Having a sweet tooth himself he didn’t mind.

“Anyway, the guy is over here asking for more frosting and I’m trying to tell his sorry ass that it’s not his cake, and if he could please back away that would be great. So he proceeds to just grab the donut display and toss it to the floor. Ugh. Entitlement. I can’t stand it.”

“Wh-where do you work…again?” Toby questioned. “My parent's bakery. I know. I know. Getting a job from my parents is lame. But I’m gonna inherit it one day and the people of Ravenwood love the place. It’s like…really popular. Tourist location.”

“A-are you e-ever…dissatisfied?” He questioned. She raised a brow. “No…why would I be…dissatisfied?” “Well you mentioned you love music so I assumed that it’s something you wanted to do.”

“Oh! Well yeah, I love music, but let’s be realistic here: I’m being handed a thriving business in my lap. The bakery never goes out of style either. It’s not like frozen yogurt shops or Boba or I dunno. Everyone wants a treat now and then. It’s a guaranteed job. With this economy, I’m just grateful to have a stable job and income.”

“Have you ever wanted…more though?” Toby’s voice for once was steady.

“Oh? I mean…yeah.” She seemed a little embarrassed. “This town…it gets a little boring. I love it! I do! In a small town though, there’s only so much you can do. My friends make it pretty fun though.”

“Your f-friends?” Toby pretended to be clueless.

“Yeah…Brook, Jaga, Moon, Kai, April. I wouldn’t give them up for anything.”

Tobias didn’t like that.

“I see.”

“When you find friends like those you don’t wanna give them up for anything….everyone always seems to…leave though.” She grips her cup and shifts uncomfortably.

“L-leave?”

(Y/n) nodded. “I’m sorry I’m being…sad. Haha!”

Toby shook his head and sipped. “T-tell me more.” As Toby twitched he noticed the stares. This is why he hated being out in public.

“I dunno. I just. Whenever I make friends they tend to leave. It’s just life you know, but I just hold on. I hold on so tight and I know it’s over but I’ll still hold on to them as tight as I can. As if that would solve the rift between our growing personalities. It’s natural you know? But I can’t stand it. I know it’s over and I still cling to them like a lifeline…Sometimes I wonder why I even bother to make human connection at all. If they’re just gonna leave me in the dust. It’s not their fault though. They just… outgrow my love you know?”

Oh, Angel…

She lets out a breath. “Sorry for making it sad. What have you been up to since you moved here? Settling in okay?” (Y/n) takes a final sip of her coffee and pats her lips with a napkin, leaving faint traces of lipstick on it. She doesn’t notice the way Toby’s eyes zero in on the napkin, his breath catching slightly.

“Uh- just…unpacking.” ‘And jacking off relentlessly into your panties while I think of the wildest fantasies of what I could do to you.’

Her phone went off and she took a look, her face falling. “Shit.”

“What is it?”

“Brooks's boyfriend just broke up with her. I never really liked the guy so I might have to go beat his ass I dunno.” She laughed making it clear it was a joke. “I’m gonna get her a coffee and head out. It’s nice to just talk, you know? Maybe next time you could come over to my place instead?" She looks up at him, smiling hopefully.

His heart races. Her place. She was inviting him into her space, into her world. "S-sure. I’d like th-that." Was it a date? Was she asking him on a date? No…surely he had not progressed that quickly with her. Maybe….

As (Y/n) stands, she casually leaves the napkin on the table, not thinking twice about it."Text me when you’re free, and we’ll plan something! Maybe we can do a movie night at my place." She throws her bag over her shoulder, still smiling. "Thanks for hanging out, Toby. I’m really glad we’re becoming friends.”

"F-friends. Yeah... me too." His words barely make it past his lips, but she hears him. She waves as she heads out the door, leaving Toby alone with the napkin. As soon as she’s out of sight, Toby’s hand darts toward the napkin, his fingers trembling as they brush against the soft fabric. He lifts it slowly, staring at the faint smudge of lipstick.

Her lips were here. She left this…for me. She had to right? She was flirting right??? Leaving her lipstick stains for me, inviting me to her place.

A movie….maybe Toby could…catch her off guard. Unveil her feelings for him? Perhaps if he played his cards right he could even get her upstairs…in the bedroom. Toby was practically drooling.

⦻

Later, back in his room, Toby lies on his bed, clutching the napkin. He presses it against his lips again and again, as though each touch connects him to her in ways she could never understand.

"You don’t even know, do you, Angel? How much do I need you? How much I want you..." His voice is barely audible, swallowed by the darkness of his room.

One day Angel, it won’t be just the things I’ll take. It’ll be you.

All of you.

[violet-fluff]

💙 Levi x Reader (AU)

Loss of a Pet

Hey anon, here’s your request ❤️ again, sorry about the loss of your cat 🌈 ❤️ I bet he’s having a great time over the rainbow with the other kitties and watching over you :) much love❤️❤️

It’s been about a week since you’ve had to let your soul cat, Marty, sleep forever.

You and Marty had a great fourteen years together filled with a lot of love and laughs. Marty was even there when you and Levi first got together. Of course with Marty being a boy cat, he was pretty protective over you and would often sit in front of Levi and stare him down, or do that weird “mweeooorrr” thing if Levi tried to cuddle you.

You got the last laugh though…

Once Levi and Marty realized they were both naturally grumpy-butts and wouldn’t let either one push each other over, they came to a truce and suddenly became friends.

There would be times Marty would by pass you and go cuddle with Levi or ask him for food. Levi also would pester you about Marty.

“Did you feed him?”

“Get him a blanket it’s cold in here.”

“He hasn’t meowed today should we take him to the vet.”

Not even four years after their friendship started, Marty became ill and had to be put to sleep due to him being in pain with no cure or remedy available.

You weren’t even sure Marty was conscious enough to be aware of what was happening, but you still held him against you as the vet injected him.

Levi was then there to hold you as you let out cries when you felt Marty relax in your arms as he went to sleep.

He shed some tears of his own.

Since that day, sleep was the only activity you took part in. Sleep helped you not feel your heart break for a while.

Levi’s heart broke for you. He crawled into the bed and held you from behind.

“You doing alright?”

You merely nodded.

“He was a great cat and he knew you loved him. Animals know when they’ve had a good life, so he went in peace.”

You started to cry into the pillow and Levi ran his fingers through your hair.

Once you settled down, he sat up. “I have to show you something. Can you come to the living room with me?”

You nodded and rubbed your puffy eyes so you can see your way through the house. When you got into the living room, Levi waved you over to a small table that was next to the TV.

You started crying again at what you saw.

Levi put together a “Marty” table. He got Marty’s little cat bed and laid his urn box in it as well as his favorite blanket. There were two picture frames next to the bed. One had a picture of Marty in his little bow tie, and the other was a funny one that made you laugh through the tears.

It was a picture you took of Levi wagging his finger in Marty’s face to scold him, and Marty’s mouth was wide open with his face scrunched as he hissed at Levi.

“I also got you this. Remember that lady at work who I said makes jewelry? She was able to make this.” Levi handed you a necklace that was in the shape of a cat, and a cluster of Marty’s fur was sealed in the middle with resin.

You held it tightly in your hand and pulled Levi into a big hug.

“I’ll miss him.”

Levi hugged you back. “Me too.”

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower: Book 1, Chapter 14

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: A bit high PG13 in our flashback and some anxiety. AN: Dude, I'm still fucking sick. Also, I edited and posted this while working because I'm sick and it's Friday and fuck these doctors, they don't get to dump dictation on me at the end of the week and be like "It's urgent." No, fuck you and the horse you rode in on, it's not Urgent if you didn't do it till now.

~~~~~<3

Mia slept like a rock but was up right on time. Of course, on time wasn’t late enough. She rarely got enough sleep when she worked nights but she would make up for that later, she always did.

Peeking in on Sally, she found the little one still asleep. It was seven in the morning, she would be waking soon. Generally, she wasn’t one to sleep in. 

Mia took the chance to make breakfast in her new kitchen. The task wasn’t terribly difficult, even though she hadn’t even had a chance to unpack thanks to each box being labeled so clearly with the contents. Having a packing and moving crew was surely worth every penny Tom had paid for them. 

~~~~~<3

Sally sat at their little dining table, too small for the space- something Mia never thought would be a problem in her life as pancakes were set in front of her. They had a busy morning ahead of them. 

Ikea opened at ten and Mia had every intention of being there at opening. She intended to find a nice enough couch that was also affordable. Tom had probably intended for them to get a nicer couch than an Ikea special but he wasn’t here to stop her. She was unsupervised with his credit card.

The ping of her phone drew her attention. It was a text message form Ashley with a link. “Your man was on The Late Show.” 

Sally was coping well with Tom’s absence so far. Mia didn’t want to risk ruining that when she had such a busy day ahead of them by reminding her that Tom had left so rather than just following the link, she spent time digging out her headphones from her purse. 

“Momma,” Sally called, “Can I get something pretty for my new room?” 

“Yeah, sure. We’ll see what we can find.” Mia was paying more attention to jabbing an earbud in her ear. “Finish eating while I get dressed, alright?”

~~~~~<3

Mia wasn’t one to watch late night TV. She was either sleeping or she was working. Plus the famous person or politician or whoever chatting with a host about movies wasn’t really her thing. 

She set her phone down on her dresser as she traded out her pj pants for a pair of jeans. The screen loaded onto a man already talking to Tom. It must have been a clip from the show, not the whole segment. As she got dressed, she couldn’t help but be absorbed in the short video.

~~~~~<3

“You were just in Vegas, right?” The man said, leaning forward in his chair. His dark hair was cut short yet somehow still just a little wild. He had large eyes and the infectious smile of a late night comedian. 

“I was, yes.” Tom smiled.

“It was an eventful few days I hear. You got up to some stuff.”

Tom chuckled. “Eventful yes, you could say that.” 

“And you left with some bling.” Tom’s fingers twitched ever so slightly as the ring was pointed out. He wasn’t sure where this was going but he knew he needed to tread carefully. “There’s pictures!” The man said, “Bring on the pictures.”

The screen switched to Tom and Mia running down the hall, her white dress flowing and sparkly high heels glittering in the too bright lights of a hotel hallway. her face was obscured by Tom’s shoulder but his face was clearly visible.

His cheeks were bright red though if they didn’t know he was out of his mind wasted, they could believe it was from the private moment being intruded on. 

The picture switched to them kissing in the bar some time earlier. Dim lights gave them a warm glow and they had drinks in front of them. Tom’s hand was on her neck and hers was resting on his thigh as she leaned forward. Her face was obscured by his as she leaned into the kiss. 

“You’ve kept a romance under warps, Mr. Hiddleston.” The host teased. Color flushed Tom’s cheeks.

“I do like to keep my private life to myself.”

“And how long have you too been together?”

“That’s private.” Tom dodged. “But all anyone needs to know is I care for her deeply otherwise I wouldn’t have married her.” 

“So it’s not a ‘what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’ situation?” The host pressed. 

“I’m as married today as I was Friday night.” Tom reiterated. 

“Tell us about her!” The host propped his head up in his hands. If it was possible, he would have had hearts in his eyes. It was clear that the host and Tom had a report and were familiar with each other in a friendly way. 

“She’s not a public figure.” Tom started, picking his words carefully. “Her privacy is important and I want to respect that. She’s not married to Actor Tom, she’s married to me and that’s a beautiful thing. Her name is Mia and-”

“Mia!” The host cried, popping up in his seat. “What a lovely name.” 

“She’s lovely.” Tom agreed and on the other side of the country, in a different time and place Mia’s face got hot. “She’s absolutely wonderful and we’re looking forward to our future.” 

The host continued to lightheartedly press for details but Tom stood firm. They showed a few more pictures from that night neither could remember but not a single image showed her face with the exception of the picture of them going into the restaurant over the weekend. 

Had no one gotten a clear shot of her? That didn’t seem likely. Had Tom known ahead of time and asked for her face to be hidden? Was her makeup smeared and her face being hidden to protect their dignity? 

~~~~~<3

“I’m done!” Sally yelled from the dining table, throwing Mia back into reality. Perhaps not reality, in a strange way what was happening on the screen was very much a part of her reality. No, her daughter’s voice had served throw her back into the present more than anything. 

“Go get washed up.” Mia called, slipping a shirt over her head and quickly finishing getting herself dressed. 

~~~~~<3

Ikea was overwhelming, as it always was. There were too many people, too much stuff and in general, far too much stimulation. But she would get through it and in the end she would be rewarded with Swedish meatballs. That was just how trips to Ikea went. You survived and then indulged in cafeteria food. She didn’t make the rules. 

They sat on couch after couch as she picked which one would be best for the space. None of them really felt big enough but she was not going to go somewhere with more expensive sofas. That wasn’t an option. She would just have a lot of empty space in her living room. More room for Sally to play. 

The one they picked was one of the largest. Under the cushions were storage compartments. It was a few hundred dollars and would likely break down after a few short years at best, needing to be replaced but she didn’t care. 

While she hadn’t planned on it, she went ahead and got herself a pair of matching end tables and lamps to set on them. While the apartment had plenty of overhead lamps, there was a warmth that came from table lamps that she loved. 

Sally picked out a soft rug to put on the floor. All in all, Mia didn’t feel too bad about the spending. It was less than a couch would have been if she went to Ashley’s Furniture or somewhere similar like Tom had probably intended. 

The lamps were on clearance and that helped keep the cost low. The tables were the cheapest they had. Hopefully Tom wouldn’t mind. 

~~~~~<3

Mia was anxious as she stood in line waiting. She had paid for their lunches with her own debit card but this was going to go on Tom’s card. She had no plan B for if it didn’t go through. 

It was a international card, wasn’t it? Would it go through okay? What would she do if it didn't? What if they asked for her ID? 

It was irrational, she knew that. Tom was traveling and had been spending money without issue on this card for as long as he was there from what she had seen. Places rarely asked for ID for credit card transactions anymore. There was so much fraud protection that it had just fallen to the wayside. 

All the stress was for nothing. The card went through perfectly fine. No one asked her who she was to use it. No one questioned her. No one said “stop!”. It went perfectly, painlessly fine. As part of her knew it would.

The furniture would be delivered the next day. It was surreal to spend so much money at any one time. But it was done and she survived the flood of panic that came with spending his money. In the moment though, as she swiped his card, she thought she was going to revisit her Swedish meatballs. 

Would it get easier over time? Mia decided she’s really rather not find out. If she had her way, she wasn’t going to be doing anymore major spending on his card, at all. It was better she didn’t get used to this. Tom wouldn’t always be there to financially save her. He wouldn’t always be there to replace her couch. This was temporary. 

Sitting in the car before leaving IKEA, she shot a text to Tom letting him know she had spent his money as he had requested and how much the total was. 

She hadn’t heard from him all day. In the morning she had assumed he was still sleeping after working the late night appearances but now it was quickly becoming afternoon without a word. 

What did it mean? Why wasn’t he texting her? 

It drove her insane the rest of the day. She checked her phone repeatedly for a hello or even so much as an acknowledgment of the purchases.

 Nothing came however, leaving her to wrestle with the thousands of ‘what if’s that quickly took up residence in her mind. Time after time she started text messages only to delete them instead of sending. 

It was fine if he didn’t text her, right? It was okay if they didn’t talk, right? They were just strangers, really, at the end of the day. This was fine. 

~~~~~<3

The elevator walls were not mirrored but the polished stone may as well have been. Dark copies of the bride and groom surrounded them. They were alone and yet not, in this magical space. 

Tom advanced on her slowly. She matched every step he took forward with one of her own backwards. There wasn’t enough air in the elevator car as it moved up and up. 

Her heart was on cloud nine and the evaluator was taking the rest of her there. 

She couldn’t breathe. It felt like she was gasping for air in all the best ways before her back hit the polished stone wall. There was no where else to go. She couldn’t take any more steps backward. 

Her future didn’t stop just because her back hit the wall. Was this a sign of what her life would be like? Was this what her future with him would be like? Advancing faster than she could keep up? 

Her future put his hands against the stone on either side if her head, palms flat and fingers splayed. His elbows buckled and then he was supporting his weight with his forearms, oh so much closer than he had been.

His face hovered just inches from hers. His breath smelled strongly of whiskey but the air around him smelled of his cologne. The mix of the two together was intoxicating.

Leaning forward, she closed the distance. The soft velvet of his lips felt amazing against hers. There was a light stubble to his face, hardly visible but as he pushed into her, she could feel it. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck as his hands roamed around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Pinned between him and the wall, she didn’t have anywhere to go. There wasn’t anywhere she wanted to go. 

His hands groped her ass through the layers and layers of fabric that made up the skirt of her dress. Pulling up and forward, he had her off her feet. Wrapping her legs around him, only possible due to the many folds of the skirts, she embraced her future closer, trying to wrap herself around the very concept.

His lips left hers and made their way down her neck, leaving a path of damp butterfly kisses down to her collar bone. Nipping and sucking at the soft flesh had her squirming in his arms. 

The elevator wasn’t moving fast enough. There wasn’t a way she could get enough of him in here. At least, there was no legal way. There were cameras in the elevators and the halls. Again and again she told herself that.

His hand was large and warm. The warmth soaked into her breast. She arched into his touch. His touch was firm and strong. Muscles twitched and moved under her hands as she slipped them into his jacket after struggling with the buttons. 

She hadn’t felt like this in years. It was more intoxicating than all the wine they had shared. She felt powerful. Desirable. Wanted. 

Was this what love felt like? Was this what it felt like to be loved? It was the best feeling in the world. 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101 @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @kats72 @soulpiercing

[journey-to-the-attic]

I need more pet zoo hcs bc that au lives rent free in my head

i love this au as well so i shall provide!!

even upon being turned back into demons and returning the devildom, the brothers still respond when called by their nicknames as animals

lucifer hates that he also responds to peter now but it's too late, the name's there to stay

in this au when solomon meets asmo he finds out about the animal ordeal, because he makes a joke along the lines of "whatever the duchess decrees", and asmo immediately bursts into tears because that WAS his name, once upon a time......

as animals, if provoked, they'd have a sort of demon form equivalent where they become more monstrous-looking (to the point of being vaguely eldritch if angry enough)

though the latter happens very very rarely, since there's not much in the human realm that could aggravate them that much

they do it do varying degrees of frequency - at first levi can't go a day without getting startled and suddenly growing an extra set of teeth

whereas lucifer does it exactly once throughout the entire ordeal: when diavolo and barbatos arrive and first attempt to send them to the devildom

mammon hangs out with ik pretty much 24/7, but he especially likes to chill with her while she does homework and stuff

he perches on the table attempting to help, but mostly just chews on her pens and mumbles "clever girl" in approval every few seconds

satan spends most of his time either people-watching from the windows (he has an unusual fascination with lawn mowers and the garbage trucks)

he has this habit of sleeping in the dead centre of the bed, and zhao is too scared of getting scratched to move him like ik does, so sometimes he ends up on the sofa because satan has now commandeered his room

for some reason belphie HATES the feather duster. when zhao gets it out to do some cleaning he spends the entire time trailing behind him and just glaring at it

mammon nicks little trinkets everywhere he goes and stows them all in ik's pillowcase (ik has to clear it out every now and then because it starts getting uncomfortable)

levi seems incredibly elusive, but in fact you can usually find him in one of two places: in his box, or wrapped around ik's wrist

when he's not watching the tv, he likes to just quietly observe what she's doing (so quietly that sometimes even ik forgets he's there)

asmo spends a not-insignificant amount of time sitting in the front window and waiting for passersby to notice him

sometimes it works and they stop to point and coo at the fluffy bunny, other times it doesn't and he has to slink to ik or zhao for sympathy

just flops down at their feet/across their laps looking like the absolute saddest little rabbit ever, waiting to be fussed over

he keeps himself very well-groomed, but he absolutely HAS to be brushed every evening or he'll throw a fit (running around the house and thumping his feet angrily until sufficient attention is paid)

lucifer mellows out unexpectedly quickly, and he actually defers to either human of the household without much protest

that's not to say he won't give you the most disparaging look a bird possibly could if you do something that he doesn't approve of though

there's a burglary on their street at some point and lucifer spends an entire fortnight hyper-vigilant about the house's security - he stays up late to keep guard and everything

he keeps going to sleep in the corner of the living room, to the point where they start putting blankets there. eventually it starts getting lovingly referred to as 'peter's nest'

(lucifer won't tell anyone this, but he secretly takes one of the blankets with him when it's time to go back to the devildom)

beel is such a big fur-ball but he never seems to quite understand just how large a dog he is

belphie likes to sneak into the hallway cupboard for some naptime, and beel always seems genuinely confused that he can't fit in with him

he always wakes up immediately after zhao because he's always giving him scraps from the fridge

there's an old lady down the road that just adores him, so ik takes him on walks past her house often and she'll ply with just endless amounts of ham

sometimes beel will attempt to share his food with belphie or his other brothers, but because he'll have had most of it in his mouth while carrying it over, they usually decline

though belphie will at least sniff at it and maybe nibble around the edges

belphie's constantly burrowing around in local hedges to find comfy sleeping spots and getting himself mucky, but then he gets so mad when they have to give him a bath

he'll put up with it because he doesn't want to get mud all over the comfy furniture, but the entire time he just looks livid

one time he crawled into the laundry machine while zhao was doing chores and he very nearly put him on spin cycle

satan likes to sit in front of the laundry machine and just watch it spin

sometimes lucifer sits with him, and this is how they bond in this form

one day ik trips and splits her knee on the way home from school, and somehow all seven of them get a premonition about it and swarm her as soon she opens the door

another time she's upset and getting shouted at while at school, and mammon senses this and dive-bombs through an open window to get at the offending teacher

in general they all develop a kind of sixth sense for each other. ik will be half-asleep in history and suddenly sit bolt-upright like "socks [levi] is stuck in the airing cupboard again"

i like to think it somehow carries through a little even when the brothers have settled into the devildom

diavolo is explaining his idea for the rad to them and suddenly, at the exact same time, all seven of them stiffen

he asks what's wrong and lucifer quickly dismisses it as a cold breeze, because no one wants to explain to him that they've all felt a sudden and extremely potent pang of loneliness that definitely wasn't theirs

so diavolo has to make the brothers cut ties for inter-realm safety when they're first brought to the devildom

and now that i think about it we'll have to do some tweaking in terms of the timeline - accelerate the events so that they can feasibly happen within ik's lifetime, since she'd be long gone if we were to follow the original course of events

in this case maybe the whole animal happens when she's younger (say like, ten to eleven), and then the exchange year starts when she's fifteen as per jtta

diavolo gets inspired to set up the exchange program a lot sooner, since ik and the brothers have already proven that humans and demons can form lasting bonds (also so that he can reunite them, because he feels so bad about having split them up)

also bringing in that other anon's idea where ik appears as a little sheep

the brothers, watching this ball of fluff appear in the council room: a sheep?

[dramatic zoom in on the sheep's head. somehow, it has an ahoge]

the brothers: IK?!?!!?!?!?

i can imagine that ik would be sorta cold for a bit. she hasn't really forgiven them for leaving her alone. sure, it wasn't their choice, but still....

she does warm up again, though - it's hard not to with them all compensating for the long separating by being EXTRA doting

it's also returning the favour, since ik was doing most of the looking after back when they were animals

side note though i feel like we can't even comprehend how ridiculous and cute ik would be as a lamb

have you seen that one video of a sheep being held up and spun around and it has the MOST "head empty" look on its face possible

ik just permanently looks like this is the only thing going on upstairs

also this video of lambs jumping on an older sheep. i like to imagine ik just absolutely trampling all over the others for fun (especially beel and diavolo, whose shoulders are broadest and easiest to traverse)

(she'd hold a bit of a grudge against the royals for some time though, given they were the ones who took the brothers away)

(diavolo is devastated by this because he loves small cute things and he wants to hold the little sheep so badly)

[marsspeedway]

COME ON CAROLINA- I mean, Sodo

Where Phantom tries to get close to Sodo and where Sodo must give the young Quintessence ghoul a chance. The question is… Could Sodo really give Phantom a chance?

There were many things that Phantom couldn't quite understand.

Complex things like his powers, how he can hear thoughts that aren't his own, how he can make pains go away or even how he can make someone's body just stop reacting... It's terrifying.

And then there's that innocent side of the ghoul who asked how there were little people inside the box in the living room... The TV.

Of course, Rain just smiled and explained to him that there were no people trapped in the box while Swiss mentioned it every chance he got.

«Hey Bug, wanna watch some little people fighting?»

He was referring to watching the boxing match.

To Swiss's luck Phantom doesn't mind what he does, in fact he thinks it's funny enough to let out a chuckle here and there with him.

Phantom had the opportunity to learn a lot about the human world during the last tour and adapted really well to crowds of people surprisingly quickly. Of course, considering he was summoned shortly before starting out and barely giving him time to adjust to life in the Ministry around more ghouls who didn't want to rip his head off.

His ability to socialize wasn't bad either, much better than others to tell the truth. He had come out of the pit together with a ghoulette and although they didn't know each other they had been each other's main point of support: sleeping nearby, eating together, talking together until they felt comfortable enough to start forming small conversations with their bandmates.

Aurora, the multi-ghoulette, had gotten very close to the band's keyboardists although her relationship with her multi-ghoul partner and the bassist wasn't at all bad either. Mountain had let her get close too, pleased with the girl's taste in flowers and surprisingly Sodo had gotten along well with her, even giving her one of the bouquets of flowers that had once been thrown at him on stage.

Meanwhile Phantom was not left behind, the ghoulettes also welcomed him with open arms, excited for a new companion; Mountain silently accepted him and let him loiter around him in the garden or wherever he was; Rain found his curiosity charming and in no time he found himself answering all the young Quintessence ghoul's questions and Swiss wasted no time in starting to learn from him, finding out everything he could to make him feel more comfortable and integrated and knowing how Swiss is also to annoy him.

But there was one, just one, that Phantom couldn't win over... Sodo.

The guy seemed to avoid him whenever he could, answer everything as simply and concretely as possible and Phantom hadn't been able to get any closer to him even if he had wanted to.

Which he really really wanted.

A lot.

Everything seemed fine on stage, he had even been able to kneel in front of him once and in response had received an approving nod of his head. Phantom swears he'd seen a hint of a smile when the man pulled down his mask to drink water but as quickly as they'd left the stage it had all vanished. There was no compliment from him, no smile, no pat on the back, no sign... Nothing.

«Give him a bit of time... He's not ready yet.»

Rain had told him once when Phantom asked how he could possibly try to get close to the Fire ghoul.

In Phantom's head the same question was going around and around: ready for what?

There was something clear that no one wanted to tell him, he could feel it and he knew it but no one would tell him anything.

He knows very well that he is the successor of someone, there was someone before him and someone before that someone just like he knew that Copia was not the first vocalist of the band and much less the first Papa Emeritus... Well, he was Papa Emeritus IV for a reason, wasn't he?

Why can't ghouls have a number too? Why does it have to be just "Quintessence ghoul"? Why does it have to be just "Phantom"?

Phantom found really difficult the amount of different names to remember... An Omega, someone who used to be called Delta and an Aether were the names he had been given when he asked Copia who his predecessors were... Well, at least they were few. He doesn't even want to ask Rain again the name of his own or even how many there were.

Everything seemed fine if he asked about Omega, or Delta, but if he asked about Aether... Oh if he asked about Aether.

He had been told that he had been transferred for major situations along with Sunshine, one of the previous Ghoulettes, and that they hadn't heard much from them since. It was clear that it hurt, Phantom knew it well because he could feel it.

After that he didn't ask again, not after seeing their reactions and sensing everyone's suffering, loss and longing... Not after feeling a particular pain in his chest that after trying to recognize he could only attribute to the Fire ghoul.

If the name hurt them so much then he would never utter it again.

When Phantom says he has a good relationship with everyone he's not lying. He spends hours around Mountain, cuddles with Rain and Swiss, lets his hair be styled by the Ghoulettes. He is close to everyone and is definitely already part of the pack, he is already affectionate with them and they are affectionate with him. Again, except for one of them.

Phantom is determined to try to get closer to Sodo, to find out what it is about him that he dislikes so much.

His first idea is to go to the cinema because a movie and some popcorn sure sounds like a great idea; at least to him.

Phantom is sure he has never begged so hard in his life.

"Please please pleeeease with a cherry on top!!"

Phantom had whined, clinging to Copia's calf as he tried to walk across the kitchen causing Phantom to drag himself across the tile floor and cling tighter and tighter to the poor man with legs, arms and tail.

"Phantom, I'm not going to let you go out alone."

The man had sighed, leaning against the edge of the bar as he felt the circulation in his leg might be starting to cut off.

"I told you I'm not going alone! Come on, please, pleeeease pleeeeeease-"

The younger man continued with his cheek pressed against Copia's thigh.

Swiss watched from his place on the other side of the bar, his tail wagging curiously.

"What with the little guy?"

The Multi-ghoul raised an eyebrow, admiring the way Phantom looked like some sort of overgrown baby koala.

"Phantom wants to go to the cinema." Copia ran a hand through his hair "And he won't tell me who he plans to go with."

"Is it one of the girls?"

Swiss asked tilting his head slightly; Phantom could feel both of his golden pupils glued on him. In response Rain only nudged the Multi-ghoul slightly and Mountain watched silently.

"No!"

Phantom simply replied.

"I can tag along him, you know" Rain quickly replied, ready to back up whatever the little Quintessence ghoul was going to do. "Actually Mountain and I wanted to go out and the cinema doesn't sound bad at all, does it?" The Water ghoul asked, shooting the taller one a complicit look.

"Sure."

The giant replied, looking really calm and in agreement with the proposal and the situation.

Swiss looked at them both, eyes narrowed and one eyebrow raised.

"We'll take care of Phantom and whoever he invites. You don't have to worry." Rain said to Copia, noting how the man seemed to hesitate before shaking his head and giving up.

"All right." Phantom smiled, his eyes lighting up visibly "But I expect him back in one piece, got it?"

All 3 nodded, Phantom doing it a couple more times than necessary but convincing Copia just the same.

"Good, now let go of me before I change my mind." Phantom quickly obeyed, untying his tail and limbs from Copia's leg with a huge grin on his face.

The man merely rolled his eyes, reached for one of the juice boxes from one of his ghouls and escaped back to his office; now with his leg free and without an extra weight to drag back.

The older ghouls watched Copia walk away down the hallway as the younger one silently celebrated by moving his arms, smiling and hopping around before doing a little dance that Rain thought was adorable.

"He sure learned that from you..."

Mountain leaned over to whisper to Swiss and Swiss just looked at him with a confused grimace.

"I expect a little more help the next time I want to go out with Aurora."

"Do I look like a babysitter?"

Mountain grinned, earning a small growl from the Multi-ghoul.

"Rain you're the best!"

They both heard Phantom exclaim and when they looked back up he had Rain hugged with arms and tail, squeezing and shaking him a little.

Rain merely petted his head, getting a quick peck on the cheek before he was released and Phantom moved on to Mountain.

"Thank you!"

Phantom repeated the action with the larger ghoul though it was obvious he couldn't shake him or lift him like he did with the Water ghoul.

"You're welcome Phantom."

Mountain replied, giving him a small gentle pat on the back before the younger one also gave him a peck on the cheek making him snort.

"Now is when you come to me and say you'll take me to the movie, right Bug?" Swiss asked smiling flirtatiously at the Quintessence ghoul. Phantom looked up at him, the small blush on his cheeks and his huge smile gave away how happy he was.

"Of course not." He said releasing the Earth ghoul, shaking his head.

"Who are you planning to take if not the girls or me?" The questioning made Phantom shrug.

"Sodo?" He whispered in a tiny voice, looking away and shrinking in place.

The other three looked at each other... would Sodo really agree to go out with him? They wanted to think yes, he wouldn't be so cruel as to break the heart of a creature as damn cute as Phantom.

Surely he wouldn't.

…

“No.”

That's what the Fire ghoul had said as soon as Phantom had told him «You want to go with me to» cutting off his words and slamming the door in the younger man's face.

"Come on Sodo, it's a horror one!" Phantom yelled from outside, not daring to open the door to a room that wasn't his, let alone Sodo's. "You like horror movies, don't you?" He asked him, his tail wagging anxiously behind him.

He didn't get an answer.

"We're not going alone." Phantom could hear movement inside the room. "Rain and Mountain are going too... If it makes you feel any better."  Phantom muttered near the door, practically leaning against it.

"Stop trying, I'm not going."

Phantom let the tops of his long horns hit the wood of the door.

"Why?"

Phantom had always been too curious.

"I have better things to do."

Even if his curiosity caused him pain.

"Fine."

He sighed.

Phantom took Swiss instead of Sodo.

When they returned the light in the rehearsal room was on... He definitely had better things to do.

…

"I need to get new boots..." Sodo said, stretching out on the couch in the common room. His head turned to Rain who was sitting next to Phantom playing some thing that Sodo had no idea what it was. "Do you want to come over Rain? We could stop by the bookstore on the Mall... I'm sure we'll find something you like."

Rain seemed too focused on whatever he was doing with the controller in his hands but answered anyway.

" Sorry, I have plans with the girls..." The Water ghoul informed him and when Sodo was about to tell him it was no problem Rain interrupted him, "But Phantom can go with you."

Phantom turned to see Rain in alarm, causing his attention in the game to be diverted to the man and at the same time causing the Game Over screen to jump in front of his eyes, losing their game.

Rain celebrated happily, raising his arms victoriously and looking at Phantom who looked back at him between nervous and annoyed; conflicted at having lost but at the same time anxious as he had been offered for something.

"I'm sure Phantom will gladly go, Sodo."

Rain assured.

"Tsk... Whatever."

Sodo clicked his tongue, not refusing but not outright accepting either.

And Phantom?

The boy just shrunk in place.

While he longed for the opportunity to get close to the Fire ghoul the truth was that it made him a little anxious. He barely knew anything about him, though what he did know was that he could easily burn him alive or rip out his jugular... Which if he was lucky neither would happen.

If he was lucky.

After a moment of silence Sodo stood up, taking a moment to fix his shirt and walk over to Phantom to put a finger on his chest, pressing a couple of times as he spoke.

"Fifteen minutes, you hurry up or I'll leave you."

He ordered, pulling his hand away and leaving the room without another word.

Phantom held a hand to his chest, looking up at some dead spot on the wall before remembering that he was in fact supposed to breathe.

"Tick tock Phantom... You're wasting time and Sodo is unforgiving."

Rain reminded him, causing the young man to stand up immediately.

"Sure sure, right... Thanks."

Phantom smiled at him and Rain returned the gesture, giving him a "shoo shoo" gesture with his hand to which the other nodded, heading for the door.

"And stay with him, I don't want you to get lost!"

Was the last thing Phantom heard, giving the man a thumbs up before disappearing down the hallway in direction to his room.

…

Sodo was already at the door, anxiously waiting for the young ghoul to arrive or, if possible, not even bother to show up so he could leave alone.

He could have left already even if the 15 minutes hadn't passed, he would have if it was someone else he didn't like... He could have simply not invited him, but certain words echoed in his head.

"I can't believe you didn't accept just to stay and practice." Rain had said, running a hand over his face. "I understand that you miss him, we all do... But could you give him a chance?"

Sodo was folding his arms, giving little importance to what the Water ghoul was telling him.

"It's not him..."

Rain frowned as he heard his words, bringing his hand to the bridge of his nose to squeeze it before sighing; his tail wagging annoyingly behind him.

"I know Sodo, I know... But you can't keep getting stuck on it." The man told him, understanding his point but not agreeing with it. "Phantom will never be Aether and I know it... We know it."

Sodo growled.

"I'm not asking you to replace him... I'm asking you to give him a chance."

His small moment of reflection was interrupted when he heard footsteps approaching.

When he turned his head he found the ghoul running in his direction until he was in front of him.

"I'm... I'm here. Do you want to go?"

Phantom asked between gasps, looking up at him with glittering eyes.

"Shouldn't you get some breath...?" Sodo murmured worriedly, looking at the watch on his wrist... The boy still had 5 minutes to spare.

He really didn't want Sodo to leave him and go without him.

He felt a little bad but he pushed the thought out of his head quickly, putting his serious facade back on.

"Whatever... Your Glamour before you leave, I don't want to hear people screaming or anything."

And with that Sodo opened the door and stepped out, waiting for Phantom outside.

Phantom was quick to obey, running a hand through his hair to fix it a bit and stepping out behind the older man.

When Sodo turned around he found the same shirt and black jeans but this time the long dark horns and long tail of the ghoul were gone, his long hair combed to one side while his skin was no longer a violet gray and his eyes no longer had that characteristic purple color, only brown.

He inspected the boy for a moment, from head to toe, before turning around again disinterested and starting to walk being followed by Phantom without saying a single word.

…

"Look, these are pretty too."

Sodo doesn't know if bringing Phantom along was his best idea or his worst.

The boy was clearly enthusiastic about helping him look for whatever he wanted to find or basically anything he wanted to do, even agreeing to be the one to ask for directions or directions from employees at establishments.

"Not my style."

Sodo had replied, averting his gaze to another pair of boots that caught his attention.

"Right." The boy muttered, looking around for another option for Sodo. "Take your time, we still have a few more stores left to look in." Phantom reminded him.

"Mhm." Was what Sodo hummed before picking up one of the boots amples in display and inspecting it.

Phantom was content to watch Sodo looking for whatever it was he wanted to find, content when he seemed to find it and content when he tried it on and liked it.

"Are those the ones?"

"These are the ones."

Sodo stated

It wasn't long before the two found themselves walking out of the store with Phantom carrying the bag with the shoebox. Sodo seemed pleased with his purchase and Phantom now felt happy that at least the main purpose of the visit had been successfully completed.

"Any place you want to go?"

The Fire ghoul had asked after a moment of silence, not sounding interested but not eager to leave either. Phantom thought for a moment, now that Sodo mentioned it maybe he could buy a few things.

"I thought about stop by the bookstore to get Rain something... Is there a candle store around here? I'm sure Aurora would like a new one for her collection." Phantom replied, looking at the shorter man. " And now that I think about it I could get some incense for Mountain. They are usually sell together, right?"

Sodo had to admit that it's cute how the boy is interested in getting some of his mates something, he also had to admit that maybe he was a little jealous of the attention.

He wondered if Phantom would do that if they were close.

"Isn't there something you want?" Sodo asked, earning Phantom's head tilted slightly to the side; he looked like a confused puppy. "I mean something you want to get for yourself, isn't there anything?"

Phantom let out a small «Oh» before shaking his head.

"Not really."

Sodo sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I know where the bookstore is, if you get to ask for that candle place I'll go with you."

Phantom perked up and Sodo could have sworn that if he didn't have the Glamour on him he'd be sure his tail would be wagging from side to side happily.

"Sure!"

And Sodo could see the boy looking for someone to ask.

Sodo doesn't know if it was worse to see Rain decide for which book to choose or to see Phantom do the exact same thing only to end up buying 3 different ones after all... Same with the candles and incense: 2 candles for Aurora and 2 incense for Mountain, just because he couldn't decide for which scents to choose.

Sodo would help Phantom with the bags, he would if the guy would at least let him.

"I can do it, I'm fine." It was what Phantom had been repeating since they'd left their last stop, carrying Sodo's bag of boots, Rain's bag of books, and Aurora and Mountain's candles and incense. "Do you want to go inside?" was the other thing Phantom had been repeating every time he saw Sodo looking in some shop window.

"No, I'm good."

That's what Sodo had replied each and every time.

He was sure that if he said he liked something Phantom would insist on coming in and getting the garment for him to try on and if he bought it he was sure the ghoul would carry the bag without letting him even say no. Well, he's sure Swiss and Mountain will be happy not to carry everything the next time they go out together.

Yeah, maybe next time.

Next time.

Sodo doesn't know when he started contemplating a next outing, much less accompanied by the young Quintessence ghoul.

He feels something stirring in his chest, he wants to think it's annoyance.

But no... It's not annoyance.

…

He's glad Phantom didn't question anything when he told him he wanted to leave, he's also grateful that Phantom is silent on the way to the Abbey.

When he parks in the driveway Sodo has his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles white from the strength. The car is still on, but they're no longer moving, they're home but none of them get out.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Phantom flinches at the tone of voice being used, turning his head to look at him.

"Excuse me?"

The rhythm guitarist questions, eyeing his major.

"Don't play dumb." Sodo spits still looking straight ahead. "All nice and obliging."

"I don't play dumb-"

"Yeah sure, and I was born yesterday Phantom."

The one mentioned shrugs looking away, wondering what to do in this situation. Was this a confrontation? A fight? An argument? Phantom is not a fan of any of those.

"I don't know what got you like this... I thought we were fine." He muttered, resting his eyes on Sodo's darkened figure. "We weren't fine?" Phantom's voice was small.

Sodo's chest contracted.

"Don't try to give me pity."

"I'm not trying to give you pity- it's a genuine question!" Phantom squeaked, his voice cracking for a moment as he tried to raise his voice a little. "I seriously don't know what you mean!"

"Stop using your damn Quintessence on me!"

"I'm not!"

"Then why do I feel this way!?

"Have you ever thought that maybe it's just you!?"

Phantom wasn't even angry like Sodo, which he could sense, but he had instinctively yelled out of reflex; a sort of thing that comes from his days in the pit, something about dominating the situation by raising his voice.

He honestly hated that instinct.

Silence settled between the two, the air heavy as Phantom felt Sodo's anger swirl in his own chest and as soon as it rose it fall, filling the burning void with a deafening pain that Phantom recognized as familiar.

Sodo's head hit the top of the steering wheel.

"Do you hate me?"

Phantom asked in a tiny voice, as innocent as a child who doesn't know that the word hate is too strong.

Sodo felt the air leaving his lungs, his stomach dropping as he realized what he had made the young ghoul believe.

"I don't hate you..." His voice sounded soft, much softer than Phantom had heard in the time he had been with them. "I see you and I can't stop thinking about him."

Sodo admitted with pain and some anger, not at Phantom but at himself.

"Is it because I look so much like him?"

"It's because you don't look anything like him!"

"Oh..."

Sodo sighed, lifting his head to look at Phantom.

"You're not him and I know it." His eyes locked onto Phantom's, narrowed and threatening to water. "I can't replace him, I don't want to replace him... But I can give you a chance." The Fire ghoul muttered, soon shaking his head.

"No..."

Phantom felt his own stomach drop, twist with anxiety at his words, what did that mean, that he wouldn't give him a chance?

Phantom felt himself breathing again when he realized something was holding his hand, a rough touch against his skin. His gaze lowered to his hand where he found a slightly smaller one holding his own.

"With everything I've done... I think you should be the one to choose to give me a chance."

Sodo murmured, the lights from the car's headlights illuminating them slightly from outside and Phantom thought Sodo's face being illuminated by the yellowish light was one of the most beautiful things in this world.

Sodo's hand was still on his, gently holding him to let him know that he could pull away if he wished. To Sodo's little surprise, and which he would have liked to have been greater, Phantom moved closer to him and made his fingers intertwine with the elder's.

"Take it." Phantom stated breathlessly, his eyes never leaving the other's. "Let me get to know you, please. Let me be one of your mates." Phantom practically begged, his cheeks tinted a soft reddish hue. "I could never replace him and I can't heal your pain but I can keep you company."

Sodo watched him, sensing Phantom's intentions for miles.

"Keep me company... Know me."

Sodo whispered, watching as in his companion's eyes a violet glint shone for a mere millisecond before he had the younger man pressing his lips to his. The ghoul's soft lips sent a faint static across Sodo's chapped lips, only increasing as Phantom leaned closer and caught his other hand to intertwine their fingers.

The kiss was soft, cute and innocent; something Sodo already saw coming. When they parted Sodo let out a chuckle at Phantom trying to scratch the underside of his nose with his shoulder in an attempt not to let go of the man; consequently he made his arm rise and thus his hand next to Sodo's, who didn't even bother trying to stop him.

"Your mustache itches..."

Phantom said almost pouting.

"Ya, and Swiss's doesn't."

"Hey!"

Phantom protested, his cheeks a little redder this time and his eyes extremely bright with that purple tinge that escaped the illusion of his Glamour.

"Come on, let go of me and let's go inside already."

Sodo ordered, trying to disengage his hand from Phantom's grip who seemed a bit reluctant at the idea.

"You can hold my hand when we go down..."

Sodo offered and Phantom didn't hesitate for a second to get out, with Sodo turning off the engine and lights before opening the door.

When Sodo rounded the car Phantom already had the bags in one hand and the remaining one was offered in his direction. Without the possibility of refusing, and without wanting to, Sodo took his hand and allowed himself to be guided to the doors of the Abbey.

…

"Phantom you didn't have to!" Rain had raised his voice, seeing the three books wrapped in protective plastic that the young man had handed him. "What am I going to do with you?" The Water ghoul muttered, pulling Phantom into a tight embrace as he laughed softly.

"Thanks for the candles Ant!"

Aurora had told him later after giving her the pair of candles, also giving him a tight hug.

Mountain approached from behind, leaning forward and placing his chin on the Quintessence ghoul's fluffy hair to rub it against him, making the boy smell a little more like him; his silent token of thanks.

"You know it's nothing," Phantom sighed happily, stroking the Earth ghoul's cheek softly "I like to see you happy."

Sodo, sitting on one of the bar stools, couldn't help but smile goofily... At last he could see his pack happy again; at last he could feel happy again.

Without him noticing Phantom slid in beside him, hugging him and wrapping his tail around him as he now knew he liked to do.

Sodo could feel the static the ghoul exuded and Phantom could feel the heat the other radiated.

"I can see you two seem to have talked a thing or two."

Rain said smiling, noting the joy evident in both of them.

"Yeah... We talked a few."

Sodo answered.

"His mustache itches."

Phantom muttered.

"You'll get used to it."

Mountain replied.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Settling - Frenkie De Jong

Summary: Your relationship is taken to another step

Whenever you thought about future, you could see your two and half years boyfriend, Frenkie, in it. Already settled in with two dogs (Not counting Jagger), a nice not too big neither too small house in Barcelona.

Now, making this big step on your relationship where he just proposed you to move in with him two weeks ago,was everything to you, you were that happy that you screamed a big YES on his face, seconds later regretting it after he had flinched covering his ear

"Move in with me?" The strawberry made words spelled out on the plate chocolate covered made you gasp

"Are you serious?" You asked laughing to yourself as he nods pulling out a little key "OMG, YES!" Frenkie laughed but flinched at your high tone

"Shit, I'm so sorry"

"I'm deaf now" You had laughed throwing yourself at him

The big deal was this one, the house hunting and decorating it, giving it your guys touches and basically doing the moving in. Already having half of that done, seeing as Frenkie did knew your likings and bought the perfect house for the two-three of you, if you counted Jagger at the moment.

It had five rooms, three bathrooms, a library and work space for you and a big backyard for Frenkie to practice a bit and for you to have a lot of fun either in alone time or with family and friends. Also with a pool, for summer days.

You loved it. And so Frenkie did.

After doing the furniture shopping, you decided to put hands on work

Couches were already put in place, the bed was put in your bedroom still not armed, the mattress on the floor, you both had already decided the bed would be done tomorrow, the fridge, the TV, most of the tables and heavy stuffs were also in place, with a lot of boxes of yours and Frenkie's stuffs and also stuffs to decorate your house

Meanwhile Frenkie was standing in front of your new house, you were pulling the food that some neighbours already came in and gave you some pastries or food to welcome the both of you in the urbanization, inside your fridge

"You can't exactly eat all the chocolate cakes there are in our fridge right now" You had said laughing knowing his strict diet, you jogged the few steps down to meet him, Frenkie groaned a bit extending his arm out for you to nestle in his side.

He liked sweets but was also very aware his life style didn't allowed him to eat it as much as he would like to

"You'll eat it for me, right?" You laughed

"I'll get diabetes if I eat them in one go" Both of you laughed lightly

"I'll take care of you then" You smiled standing on your tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. You were happy, starting a new chapter of your relationship and your life with your person

"Thanks for the house" You blurted out

"You don't have to thank me" He laughed a bit "This is our life now" You blushed hugging him tighter "I want this, you want this too. This is just a step more"

"It's a shame tho" You said "This house is so pretty and once we've kids we'll have to move out"

Both of you had talked about a family and it was in your guys plan. Not now but in a few years, definitely.

"Who said that will happen? I bought this house with that amount of rooms for our kids, as much this feeling is amazing, the moving in with you, the furniture shopping and everything else... I'm not moving the fridge out of this house ever again" You laughed as Frenkie shook his head "Too much work to do" You ended up laughing together

You were left in silence for a good few seconds more before you heard Jagger bark, you laughed lightly and yawned

"C'mon love. Let's go and take a lil nap"

"Lil? You mean as in... We sleep in until tomorrow right? I don't have the energy to keep going" Frenkie laughed kissing your head

"Of course, that's exactly what I meant, love"

[foreveralwaysanauthor]

Camp Wanamaker (Ch 8/10)

September 7, 2023

Notes - I know this chapter is exceptionally overdue and I'm so sorry that it is, but my job raised my hours pretty significantly, and, with everything else going on in my already crazy life, I found it very hard to sit down and write. However, I'm hoping to get the next few chapters out as soon as possible so we can move on to bigger and better things!

Chapter 8 - Rumor Has It

The sun slowly rose over the hills of trees that surrounded Camp Wanamaker. Morning light crept across the gentle waves of the lake and the tops of the cabins, dancing across the dewy grass and making it shimmer like a million minuscule diamonds. The yellow-orange glow snaked its way closer and closer to the windows of each building, finding the cheap cotton curtains with ease. The light eventually seeped through the curtains and spilled onto the bed of a certain brunet boy, his chocolate coils woven into little knots as he struggled to get himself out of his twisted sheets while he slept.

It had been a rough night for Royce. He had just barely fallen asleep when an emergency notification about a missing child in the area rang loudly on his phone, jolting him awake as he tore out his earbuds. By the time he had finally worked himself back to the edge of sleep, it was nearing two in the morning. He wasn’t the only one who had issues with chasing sleep that night, which was made apparent as Bentley entered the room and silently joined his brother, relishing in the quiet and calm his brother’s room provided. Thankfully, they had the day to recover and relax while everyone else did as they pleased on their last day of freedom before the next group of campers arrived.

As Royce stirred, the soft rays of light filtering through his eyelashes as he slowly blinked them open, a light grumble from his side caught his attention. Glancing down, he found Bentley curled up to his side, his face buried in Royce’s shirt to avoid the sunlight coming in from the window. A notion of a chuckle left Royce’s mouth as he peered over at the clock on his nightstand. All he needed to see was the glowing, red six at the start of the number to know that his little brother wouldn’t be moving any time soon. At least, not willingly. Taking in a slow breath and sighing, Royce reached for the cell phone he had ditched on the nightstand and relaxed back onto his pillow, ready to enjoy a lazy morning.

If you asked any of the Murphy brothers, lazy mornings were reserved for Sundays anyway. Back in their home, they would usually be found lounging on the couch with bowls of soggy cereal or packets of Pop-Tarts, their eyes semi-glued to the typical weekend cartoons playing on the TV as they ate breakfast. Well, in more recent months, they had. Their old television was a crappy box model with a single dial that had only one good station while the other four were filled with either news or politics. However, after Vivien’s “stay-cation” to their world, they had grown accustomed to the hundreds of stations they could receive with the television the girl had gotten Mick’s help with making.

It didn’t take them long to realize that living at Camp Wanamaker was something else entirely. Most of the televisions available were outfitted with every app known to mankind and possessed a slew of shows nobody in the cabin had seen before - not even those who lived in the modern world. Not every cabin had a television, of course, but the ones that were home to just counselors or staff members had at least one for the cabin to share. Royce and Bentley had spent their free mornings during staff weeks in front of the TV, watching shows that Vivien and Mick had added to their watchlists. It was a good way to spend their mornings, all in all.

Just as Royce had begun searching his phone for something to keep himself occupied, Bentley shifted, slowly lifting his head from Royce’s shirt and grumbling a complaint about the sun. A yawn caught the youngest of the Murphy brothers, forcing him to stretch against the mattress as he made a noise of frustration. Flopping back down against the sheets, Bentley slowly turned toward Royce and muttered, “G’mornin’.”

“Morning,” Royce spoke softly. “Have a good sleep?”

Bentley shrugged, “Kinda.”

Royce hummed, “Do you wanna go watch the next episode of that zombie show? We can make some cereal and just chill on the couch while everyone goes to the mess hall.”

After a moment of contemplation, Bentley shook his head, “I don’t think I’m up for watching someone get their insides eaten like a bowl of zombie spaghetti jsut yet. Can I watch you play the cat game instead? You know, the one where you help the robots?”

Bentley watching Royce play games was nothing new, but it had become far more common in recent times. While Bentley loved playing games with adventure or mindless fun as the main focus, story-driven games like What Remains of Edith Finch and their newfound favorite, Stray, made it easier for Bentley to relinquish all control of the game to Royce in favor of watching him play and piecing together the storyline at his own pace. In a way, it was easier and both brothers enjoyed the time they got to spend together. 

With a smile, Royce nodded as he sat up, “Sure, Benny. Why don’t you go get that started up and I’ll make breakfast.”

As Bentley sluggishly shoved the blankets away from his legs, he grinned, “Can I have Cocoa Puffs with chocolate milk?”

“Yeah,” Royce nodded. “You want your Hufflepuff mug or just a normal cup?”

Bentley snickered, “No, RJ, I mean, can I have chocolate milk in my cereal?”

Royce paused, feeling as though he had a circle swirling above his head as he processed his brother’s request. “But-” he took in a breath, “Benny, there’ll be chocolate milk at the bottom anyway if you’re having Cocoa Puffs.”

“I know,” Bentley shrugged, “but I want it more chocolatey so when I drink it after the cereal’s gone, it’s not like two little bits of chocolate and a bowl of straight milk.”

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Royce relented, “Alright, fine. That makes sense.”

As he followed Royce to the door, Bentley smirked and asked, “Can I have a glass of orange juice to go with it? Maybe some pickles afterward?” The look of disgusted horror Royce sent in return as he whirled around made Bentley cackle, patting his brother on the shoulder as he ducked around him. Bentley had just reached the bottom step when Royce began thumping down them, rattling off about disgusting food combinations first thing in the morning and musing how someone they knew must have been pregnant if he was craving something so nasty. Bentley beamed with pride as he grabbed the game controller from the coffee table; it was mornings like these that he didn’t mind being up so early.

Vivien moved sluggishly as the rain battered against the air conditioner that stuck out of one of the music hall’s windows. Rain always made her tired and, with nothing better to do, she and Miles were stuck in the music hall, practicing guitar and fooling around with the instruments that would, typically, go unused on a day like that. To make matters worse, it was Monday. Normally, that wouldn’t be an issue; however, that meant the carnival in Laconia was now officially open, and, due to the rain, they wouldn’t be able to go.

The trips to the carnival had been planned quite thoroughly. Every day, one group would be taken to the carnival for the day and return for dinner. Although most everyone at the camp wanted nothing more than to go to the carnival, the rain had come over the area overnight and the carnival grounds on the early-morning news had looked more like muddy grass soup, making it an easy decision for those at the camp to stay at the camp. 

As Miles strummed a song on the guitar and hummed softly along, Vivien dropped onto the bench beside him, a yawn leaving her as she tipped her head back to look at the ceiling, “I’m so fucking bored.”

“Join the club, kiddo,” Miles chuckled, allowing his strumming to fade off as he pushed his focus onto the girl beside him. 

“Does the club offer cookies?” 

“Only on weekends and at club meetings.”

“Then I don’t wanna join,” she sighed.

“Too bad,” Miles teased, nudging the girl with his elbow as he set the guitar down beside his leg. “Once you’re invited, there’s no turning it down.” Vivien glanced in Miles’ direction with an amused smirk before another yawn tugged itself from her. “Tired?” he asked.

Instead of firing off a quick quip, Vivien lazily nodded, leaning closer to Miles until her head came into contact with his shoulder. “I slept fine last night, but I woke up later than normal and it’s throwing me off.”

Miles chuckled, tugging his arm from between them and bringing it around Vivien’s shoulders, “For some reason, I don’t have that problem.”

“You suck.”

“You love me.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you still suck,” Vivien muttered as she brought an arm around Miles’ back.

Allowing himself to smile, Miles gave Vivien’s arm a squeeze, “You’re such a little shit.”

“Takes one to know one.”

As rain battered against the windows, the wind rattling the glass ominously as it passed, Miles grinned. Even though they spent almost every day in the music hall, it wasn’t too often that he got to spend time with just Vivien. Normally, the music hall was filled with kids wanting to bash the drums or learn guitar, the split of interests keeping him and Vivien on opposite sides of the large room. It was times like these - the rare moments when the hall was empty and they would be able to talk or play guitar - that Miles felt an actual connection with the girl. 

They had spent a few months under the same roof during Vivien’s prolonged stay in their world over winter break and he enjoyed watching her grow more comfortable around everyone he knew and loved. Once she had gotten out of the “Royce’s girlfriend” title everyone had given her and made a name for herself, Miles got to see the different sides of Vivien that he hadn’t yet found. After everything they had been through over her break, she now felt like the younger sister he never got the chance to have. 

As Miles glanced up at the ceiling, wondering how long it would be before they would need to break out the buckets in the storage room to catch dripping water that penetrated through the older roof, Vivien sighed. Despite her exhaustion, her mind raced with thoughts of what they were going to do to keep themselves busy until Saturday. As one of the last groups to go to the carnival, they had to keep themselves entertained for most of the week. After a moment, Vivien glanced out the window toward where the pool would, by now, be empty. Maybe she could convince Mick to let her swim in the rain; it would beat sitting around, doing nothing while they waited for a potentially musically inclined camper to stumble through the door. 

Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen much of Mick lately. Faintly, she wondered if the older girl was okay. She knew that Mick was suffering from a few health issues lately as they had talked a bit about her recent bouts of exhaustion, some pretty strong nausea, and how she had woken up with swollen ankles with no reason as to why. Maybe she had been taking things easy in the hope that everything would fix itself before the time came for the appointment she had called to schedule the day before. Though she wondered what could be happening with Mick, she had a few ideas.

Pregnancy was, of course, one of the top suspects as the nausea and swelling were common in pregnancy. However, she couldn’t be sure. After all, Mick didn’t look pregnant. She was still just as toothpick thin as always - that damned metabolism Vivien wished she possessed keeping Mick looking more lean than muscular. It could still be possible, but she couldn’t recall Mick and Butchy having the chance to sneak away to - Vivien tried not to vomit at the thought - do the deed. 

Deciding she would have to bite the bullet to find out, Vivien lifted her head from Miles’ shoulder and asked, “Do you think Mick is pregnant?”

Miles’ head lilted to the side as he shot the girl a bewildered, raised eyebrow, “Where did that come from?”

“I was just thinking. You know how Mick’s been feeling off the last few days?” When Miles slowly nodded, Vivien continued, “Well, her symptoms are similar to pregnancy symptoms.”

“They are?”

With a nod, Vivien said, “Morning sickness, exhaustion, swelling, lack of period-”

“How do you know she doesn’t have her period?” Miles questioned.

Sending Miles the most bland face she could muster, Vivien deadpanned, “We’re girls, we talk about these things. But that’s not the point.”

“Right,” Miles said with a shake of his head, “so you think she could be pregnant?”

“Maybe,” Vivien shrugged. “I mean, they delayed their honeymoon so they could help here, but they’ve had the time to go out together and stuff. There’s no telling when it could have happened.”

Though Miles seemed to consider the idea, he mused, “But she doesn’t look pregnant.”

“Not everyone does,” Vivien claimed. “When Aunt Hayley had me, she didn’t show at all.”

Miles was silent for a while as he thought about all Vivien had said. It could be true. He had seen Mick behaving differently lately - constantly feeling chilly, falling asleep on the couch while watching movies, and having to step out of the mess hall sometimes because the scent was overpowering - but he hadn’t thought of pregnancy. He simply thought she was coming down with the stomach bug that was starting to pulse throughout the town.

Taking in a breath, Miles sighed, “It sounds like Mick is pregnant.”

“Well, we don’t know for sure,” Vivien said. “I can always ask her when I’ve got the chance.”

“Better you than me, kiddo.” Miles chuckled, “She’d probably rip my head from my shoulders.”

“Yeah, somehow I doubt she’d take it too kindly,” Vivien snickered. 

As Miles let out a snort of agreement, the door of the music hall slammed against the frame, the wood rattling as the wind beat against it. The laughter died on Miles’ lips as he and Vivien turned toward the door, eyeing it with wide stares. “Was that the wind?” Miles breathed.

Vivien pushed herself to stand, maneuvering around the bench and walking to the door, twisting the handle before tugging it open. Rain bucketed from above and the only sign of life was a group of kids who were busy screeching as they ran up the path toward the safety of the dance studio. Leaning against it to make it click into place, Vivien turned to Miles and shrugged, “It was either the wind or a ghost.”

With a shrug, Vivien grabbed a guitar and made her way back to her seat, silently asking Miles to help her with a song she wanted to play as she sat back down. As they began working on figuring out the chords of the song Vivien had chosen, neither of them was prepared for the onslaught of chaos that the week would bring. Just down the path from the music hall, the door to the dance studio slammed open as a group of dripping campers piled in.

“What happened to you?” one of the girls asked from the far side of the large room. On one side of the room, dancers in sweatpants and leotards stretched on the floor while others practiced before the mirror. However, as the door closed once more, the group of five by the door had everyone’s attention.

“We all decided to hop in the pool after practice,” Chloe, one of the soaked campers, answered sarcastically.

“We came from the tennis courts,” one of the drenched campers - a blonde named Maxine - said as she wrung her hair out over the doormat. “We had to cut around the music hall to get here quicker.”

“And,” the only brunette from the group - Rachel - piped up, “you’ll never guess what we heard on our way here!”

If they didn’t already have the attention of those around them, they certainly did now as questions popped up throughout the room like a game of Whack-A-Mole. Stepping to the front of the group, the youngest of the campers - Alex - beamed as she declared, “Mick, the lifeguard girl who always gives us extra time to relax after swimming laps, is pregnant!”

Squeals of excitement bubbled up throughout the dance studio, a few commented on how they “just knew” she had to be, and others questioned how the girls knew, to which Chloe said, “We overheard her friends talking. You know, the girl with the long-ass hair and the boy who’s dating Carrie? They were talking about Mick being pregnant and we heard them on our way by.”

As excited exclamations passed through the room, the door to the back hallway opened and a small girl entered the room, followed soon after by Charlie, who led the dance studio every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Looking around the room, Charlie placed her hands on her hips and sighed, “Alright, everyone, calm down. If you keep this up, I’ll be having you go across the floor right off the bat.”

“But, Charlie,” one of the stretching dancers argued, “we’re talking about Mick.”

“Yeah,” another agreed. “What do you think of her being pregnant?”

“Pregnant?” Charlie repeated with a raised brow. “Where did you hear that?”

Murmured answers flitted around the room before settling as Alex spoke up, “We overheard Miles and Vivien talking about it.”

“Eavesdropping, were you?” Charlie admonished as she made her way further into the room.

“Not intentionally!” Rachel exclaimed. “We were walking by the music hall and overheard it.”

Making a mental note to talk with the pair about the situation at their next meal, Charlie sighed, “Well, that may be, but I haven’t heard anything about this, so I would advise you all to keep this to yourselves. Nobody likes having rumors spread about themselves.”

A chorus of reluctant “yes, ma’am”s filed the room and, as Charlie let out a sigh, she hoped she had squashed the rumors quickly enough that it wouldn’t spread around the dinner tables. With any luck, she’d be able to talk with Miles and Vivien before word spread too far. Usually, rumors at camp spread quietly and quickly, festering overnight into nonsense and plaguing everyone on the grounds within a day or two. If Charlie noticed it spreading much at all, she would try to find a way to sit Mick down and talk with her. She would need to prepare the girl for the onslaught of gossiping campers and concerned questions from her friends if the kids let it spread any further than it already had.

Clapping her hands together, Charlie brought herself back to the task at hand and declared, “Alright, everyone, find your place at the barre and get comfortable. We’re all going to feel the burn today.”

Despite Charlie’s best efforts, it had been impossible to find the chance to get Miles or Vivien away from everyone else before they headed to bed Monday night. She didn’t want it spreading more than she presumed it had, but Vivien was constantly with Royce and Bentley while Miles was practically attached to Carrie’s hip. They had spent the evening playing games and watching movies, giving Charlie little chance to speak her mind. When they were getting ready for bed, Charlie told Hayley about the situation. Hayley wouldn’t be able to do much to help as she was supposed to be helping in the office on Tuesday, but she promised that, if she heard anything, she would say something.

Charlie felt particularly tense at breakfast, overly focused on the noisy voices around the room as she tried to silently shield her niece’s friends from being the topic of conversation. It wasn’t until her wife nudged her, telling her the meal was over, that she finally moved, jerkily rising from her seat and disposing of the few pieces of egg that she had left on her plate. Stationed in the playhouse to help with makeup and choreography for the upcoming play, Charlie followed Carrie and Riven down the winding path to the old wooden building in relative silence.

While Riven got to work on helping set things up on stage, Charlie and Carrie headed to the storage room to dig out the makeup they would need for the day. Eyeing the blonde from her side of the little room, Charlie asked, “Carrie, you’re close with Mick, right?”

Turning toward the woman with the pink-tipped braids, Carrie shrugged with a smile, “I’d say we’re friends, but she’s closer with Miles than she is with me. Why, what’s up?”

Instead of directly answering, Charlie asked, “If Mick was pregnant, would she tell you?”

Carrie’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish as she processed the sudden question, but eventually, she said, “I definitely wouldn’t be the first person on the list - maybe not even in the top five - but she might. Why, do you think she’s pregnant?”

Glancing out the door to make sure nobody was close enough to hear, Charlie lowered her voice to a whisper and asked, “Some girls came into the studio yesterday and were telling everyone that they overhead Miles and Vivien talking about Mick being pregnant. I wanted to see if they had said anything to you about it.”

Nodding thoughtfully, Carrie said, “Like I said, I wouldn’t be in the top five, but they would be.” Carrie began counting on her fingers, “Butchy, her parents, Miles, and Vivien - I would assume those would be her top five. I can ask them, if you want?”

“No, no,” Charlie said with a shake of her head, “that’s fine. I just… I want to be careful with it regardless of whether it’s true or not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Charlie began as she hefted a metal case of makeup onto her hip, “if she’s not pregnant, we can help squash the rumors now before they get out of control. But, if Mick is pregnant, we need to keep an eye on her. She’s not showing and, depending on how far along she is, that can be detrimental.”

“How so?” Carrie asked, following Charlie through the backstage storage and into the dressing rooms. 

Setting the metal case on a nearby stand, Charlie sighed, “Back when Hayley was pregnant for Vivien, she never once showed. I was with her for most of the pregnancy - as a friend, at the time - and she went through hell. If Mick’s pregnant and is further along in her pregnancy, it could be dangerous for not only her, but for the baby as well.”

Carrie took in a slow breath as she soaked in the information, “Should I talk with Miles about it? See if he can tell me anything?”

“Not right now,” Charlie said. “Let him focus on music lessons. Besides, I haven’t heard anyone talking about it around camp, so I think we should be all set for now. We can talk with him and Vivien later, when they’re not busy banging around on the drums and we don’t have a bunch of makeup to sort through.”

As Charlie pulled a chair out from in front of one of the lightbulb-lined mirrors, Carrie followed suit with a hum. With the metal makeup case between them, Charlie unlatched the clasps and opened the lid before pulling out the extra trays so they could see all that was inside. Looking inside the case at all of the makeup, Carrie asked, “What are we going to do with all of this?”

Smiling at the blonde, Charlie took a lipgloss from the top shelf of the case and said, “We’re going to go through all of this and make sure it’s all still good. If something is good, we’ll try it out and make sure it still looks good. If it passes both tests, we’ll keep it. If it doesn’t, we toss it.”

Examining a tube of mascara, Carrie asked, “How are we going to check if they’re still good before we test if on ourselves?”

Charlie chuckled, “Do you see the little jar on there with a number and a letter on it?”

Carrie searched the tube before nodding, “Yeah, it says ‘6M’ on it.”

“That means it’s good for six months after it was opened.” Charlie looked for the little engraving mark on her lipgloss before setting it aside. “If it still has a wrapper or the receipt is in the little makeup bag at the bottom of the case, we’ll keep it. If not, its trash.”

“Got it,” Carrie said as she reached into the bottom section of the case and pulled out a black box. Carrie’s eyebrow raised as she read the box, “Conspiracy?”

Peering over at the younger girl, Charlie chuckled, “Oh, I remember that! Don’t throw that no matter what it says.”

Glancing up, Carrie asked, “How come?”

“It’s Vivien’s pride and joy,” Charlie claimed.

“But she doesn’t even wear makeup?” Carrie said curiously as she opened the palette.

“No, but she loves that thing,” Charlie smiled. “You see, she had watched this series online of this Youtuber guy and his friend - a makeup guru - making a palette together and that was the end product. She spent two hours waiting for it with me and Hayley, but it sold out within a half an hour. We were lucky enough to get the full set when it relaunched, but she keeps it here to keep Abby out of it.”

With a chuckle, Carrie looked over the shades and commented, “I can’t imagine she got into it at all.”

“She tried,” Charlie said, a ghost of a smile appearing as she reminisced. “She looked like a raccoon and cried before asking me for help.”

“Are you a self-proclaimed ‘makeup freak’ too, then?” Carrie asked.

“Hell yeah,” Charlie laughed. “Kind of have to be when you’re a dancer.”

“How long have you danced?”

Charlie thought for a moment before admitting, “Since I was two. My parents put me into ballet, aka the perfect breeding ground for eating disorders, anxiety, and the fear of imperfection.”

“Ah,” Carrie sighed as she set Vivien’s makeup aside and reached for something new, “been there, done that.”

Charlie set a container of powder aside and said, “You know, when I was younger it was more fun than anything, but once I was put into pointe, it was like I had stepped onto the world’s biggest slip-and-slide. One wrong move and I’d be ditched for the next best dancer.”

A sense of understanding washed over Carrie like a wave. She hadn’t felt overly close with Charlie before, but knowing they both had intense dancing backgrounds and still had lingering side effects from it, gave their budding friendship more depth. “The fear of failure is strong with every former dancer, I guess.”

Charlie hummed, “It must have been a fairly easy transition for you - going from dance to acting. The expressiveness and emotions you need to have on stage could translate well on screen, right?”

“I’d like to say so, yeah,” Carrie agreed. “Though, sometimes, I wish I could just turn my emotions off. It doesn’t take much for me to get all worked up over something small.”

“I can’t say I don’t feel the same way,” Charlie mused. “Although I find it easy to work my emotions into my books. Channeling them into something new helps force you to sort through them slower.”

Carrie thought about it for a moment before grinning, “I don’t think I could do something like that. Writing isn’t exactly my forte.”

With a shrug, Charlie said, “It’s the author in me, I suppose. However, if writing isn’t your thing, you could always try channeling it into music.” At Carrie’s skeptical gaze, Charlie smirked, “Don’t give me that face. I’ve heard you sing. You could really make something if you took the time to sit and work on it.”

“I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“And you think I did?” Charlie scoffed, “My first novel looked like a kindergartener wrote it compared to my work now. Nobody starts off great. Anyway, you could always ask Viv or Riven or even Erica for help; they all write music.”

Carrie nodded but then stalled as she reached into the makeup case. Curiously tipping her head to the side as she looked toward Charlie once more, she asked,l “I knew Riven and Erica wrote music, but since when has Vivien written music?”

“For years now,” Charlie claimed as she met the blonde’s blue eyes. “She doesn’t play them with the band muchas she can’t write the sheet music for them, but those journals of hers aren’t just filled with novel ideas. You should talk to her about it sometime. Maybe she’d show you some of her work.”

As Charlie got back to work sorting the makeup into two piles, Carrie hummed thoughtfully, “Maybe.”

“Maybe we can make a new one, but make it a bit bigger,” Carrie offered.

Bentley sighed, “And maybe I should stick with painting instead of pottery.”

As a majority of the playhouse crew had been taken to the carnival that Wednesday, Bentley had dragged Carrie to the art barn to show her his latest works while everyone else kept busy in their normal areas. His paintings, as always, were like something Bob Ross would come out with. Bentley felt at ease with painting; he could sit at an easel with a palette of colors and a set of brushes for hours without getting the least bit distracted. It was also something his brothers declared he shared with their mom - a love and natural talent for telling a story through paintings and sketches. His pottery work, on the other hand… Let’s just say that Bentley could have told everyone a seven-year-old made it and nobody would be able to tell it was his work.

The first few times Bentley had tried to make something with a mound of clay on the spinning wheel, they turned out to be understandably awful - a lopsided vase, a cracked bowl, and a statue of a dog that lost two legs and its tail in the kiln being among his efforts. However, his recent attempts appeared to turn out just the same. His first attempt at making a tea set for Mick had cracked and separated, and the potion bottle he wanted to make for Vivien’s birthday ended up getting damaged when another camper’s sculpture exploded and shattered everything inside the kiln. The mug he had tried to make for Miles was his most recent attempt and, while it still looked like a mug, it was now so small that it looked more like something Vivien would turn into a pair of earrings than it did an actual mug for drinking purposes.

Setting the miniature mug on the table, Bentley slouched into a chair with a huff as he glared at the shrunken pottery. Not willing to let the boy wallow in his thoughts, Carrie offered him a smile and said, “I think it looks great and Miles will too.”

A raised eyebrow answered Carrie as Bentley glanced up at her, “I can’t give that to him - it’s tiny.”

“And you and I both know that he would love it all the same.” As Carrie moved to sit at another pottery wheel, Bentley sighed, but remained quiet as she continued, “He loves everything you make for him and you know that.”

“I know,” Bentley muttered, “but I wanted this to be special.”

“And it still is.”

“How? He can’t drink out of it.”

“Yeah,” Carrie agreed, “but he can use it as a Christmas ornament in a few months.”

Bentley snorted despite himself, the thought of the little mug dangling from their living room tree dancing through his mind. Finally shifting his gaze from the cup to the blonde across from him, Bentley grinned, “He would.”

“I know.” Carrie smiled at the boy before flicking her hair over her shoulder and chuckling, “I wouldn’t put it past him to use that as the star on top with how much he loves caffeine.”

Feeling a bit better about how his failed pottery had turned out, Bentley breathed, “I guess it won’t be a total loss if I give it to him looking like this.”

“Exactly,” Carrie said with a nod. “He’ll love it regardless. And, if you decide to make another, you’ll know to make it a bit bigger.”

“I guess so, yeah,” Bentley agreed. Taking in a deep breath as he stood, Bentley asked, “So, what do you wanna do? We can paint or draw or make awful sculptures of each other, if you want. I’d offer you a photoshoot, but that’s more Royce’s expertise than mine.”

“That’s fine,” Carrie chuckled. “I don’t think I have the artistic abilities to do much of anything here.”

Bentley moved over to the wall of blank canvases and pulled a pair of small ones down as he turned to Carrie once more, “Come on, it’ll be fun. We can hang out and talk while we paint.”

As Bentley set up a pair of easels, Carrie let out a hesitant laugh, “I doubt mine will look anything like yours.”

“It doesn’t have to be good,” Bentley stated. “So long as you’re having fun, that’s all that matters.”

“Are you sure?” Carrie asked as she stood. “I mean, I’d be more than willing to just watch if you want to make something. You know, that way I don’t waste paint on something terrible.”

“As long as the paint goes on the canvas, it’s not a waste,” Bentley insisted. “Besides, we can make anything; nature scenes, a fictional world, or, I don’t know, maybe we could paint ourselves as superheroes or something.”

While Bentley got to work collecting paints to place on a tray between the two easels, Carrie’s train of thought screeched to a halt at the boy’s words. Looking over at the teenager with a smile, Carrie slowly sat down on one of the stools Bentley had pulled over and said, “That reminds me, I actually have something I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Oh yeah?” Bentley asked, glancing at Carrie before returning to the tub of assorted paint tubes before him. “What about?”

“Before we left home, I got a call from my manager.”

Hefting the container of paints onto a rolling table between the easels, Bentley looked at Carrie with an almost nervous chuckle, “You’re not getting fired or something, are you?”

Letting out a shocked bark of laughter, Carrie reached over and shoved Bentley’s shoulder, “No!”

Giggling, Bentley said, “Well, you never know!”

With a good-natured roll of her eyes, Carrie shook her head and said, “That’s not it at all. Actually, it’s pretty much the opposite.”

“What do you mean?”

“A film company I hadn’t heard of before reached out and offered me a role in their new show,” Carrie explained.

“That’s great,” Bentley said with a brilliant smile. “What’s it about?”

“All I know about it is that it’s an assassin show,” Carrie claimed. “However, the only down side is that it’s going to be filming almost exclusively in Europe.”

“Europe?” Bentley repeated. When Carrie nodded, he asked, “What, like England or Scotland?”

“I know part of filming will be in the UK,” Carrie mused, “but for the character they want me to portray, filming would primarily be in Russia, Belarus, or Ukraine.”

Bentley allowed Carrie’s words to sink in, processing them slowly as he uttered, “That’s a long way from home.”

Carrie sighed, “I know. That’s sort of why I haven’t told Miles that they want me signed on.”

“Miles doesn’t know?”

“Not yet, no.” Carrie took in a deep breath before admitting, “I sort of wanted to get your reaction before telling him.”

“Well, I think it’s a great opportunity for you, but I think we both know how Miles will react,” Bentley said. “He’ll be happy for you no matter what. Just remember that he’ll probably end up going to the library to do as much research on your filming locations as possible. Remember what he was like when he had to decide which school to put me and Royce into?”

Of course, Carrie knew all too well. Miles had spent hours upon hours looking into the local schools, trying to figure out which one would be best for his brothers. After work, he would go to the library and research the local schools and their programs, searching for any hint of safety issues or cases of bullying. Royce and Bentley had to ride their bicycles to the library more than once to pry him away when it was almost closing time. After basically interrogating Lela about her old school and trying to see which schools had the best art and literature classes, he finally settled on one and signed all of the application papers overnight, falling asleep at the kitchen table with some of the papers stuck to his face and his pen still in hand. When Carrie showed up to pick Miles up for work the next morning, it took Bentley grabbing the spray bottle from the bathroom and filling it with frigid water to wake him from his slumber.

“Yeah,” Carrie said slowly as she nodded.

“That was just him figuring out a local school for us,” Bentley reminded her. “We weren’t going anywhere out of the state. So, when the time comes and you finally tell him, just know that he’ll be so much worse than that.”

Wondering just how bad it would be, Carrie sat silently, her gaze drifting as she allowed images of Miles scouring shelves of old books and frantically asking Mick and Vivien for help researching things on their phones to fill her mind. Eventually, her gaze drifted back toward Bentley and the two shared a nervous smile before dissolving into laughter. For a while, joy filled the room, filling the silent gaps in conversation that had once lingered between the pair. Eventually, the laughter began to fade and, as Carrie looked to Bentley once more, she sighed, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Bentley snickered, “A few months of pestering questions and nonstop research.”

“At least,” Carrie chuckled with a shake of her head. Taking in a breath, Carrie thought of Miles’ tendency to look into every possibility with a fine-toothed comb and wondered aloud, “I wonder if he’ll do the same for Mick when the time comes.”

“What do you mean?”

Snapping her gaze from the canvas before her to the blond boy beside her, Carrie cleared her throat and said, “It’s nothing, really. It’s just…” she sighed, “Charlie told me that some girls in the dance studio were talking about Mick being pregnant. It’s probably just a rumor, but I was just thinking how Miles would react if he she told him.”

“People really think she’s going to have a baby?” Bentley asked incredulously. “That’s crazy!”

“I thought so too, but there’s no telling,” Carrie claimed with a shrug. “Charlie thinks it could go either way.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.”

“I wonder if anyone else has heard about it,” Bentley said thoughtfully.

Carrie shrugged, “If the campers know, it’s probably spreading through camp as we speak.”

“Probably,” Bentley breathed. He would have to talk to Royce about it later on as he sometimes left the library door open for fresh air. If anyone walked by and was talking about it, he would hear it from the desk. With a shake of his head, Bentley grabbed a palette from the table between himself and Carrie and held it out for her to take. “You ready to get your paint on?”

Carrie eyed the colorfully stained palette before reaching up to take it with a smile, “Absolutely.”

Royce sighed as he ran his towel over his dripping curls. He was going to take a shower that night anyway, but after being unceremoniously shoved into the lake by Riven, he had gone inside to take a shower before they started playing games. Riven had caught him staring at Vivien - a normal occurrence, he thought - and his girlfriend’s skating partner chose to tease him about it when his girlfriend left the pier to help her aunts bring coolers of drinks down from the parking lot. After a while of back-and-forth, Riven gave Royce a nudge, and, needless to say, he was unprepared for it. 

Tripping over the uneven planks, Royce had plunged into the cool lake, scaring off a nearby school of fish as the water enveloped him. Glancing out of the window near his bed as he sat down, Royce huffed; the trail of water he left from the edge of the pier to the front door of their cabin was still faintly visible in the fading sunlight. While it would be gone in the morning, Royce doubted his embarrassment would be. By the time he had resurfaced, Riven was folded over on the dock, laughing like a hyena. Bentley and Erica were no better as they took one look at each other and burst into laughter, only resorting to poorly disguised snickers when Jade elbowed them both in the ribs. Miles and Butchy hauled him up on the pier with matching smirks that told him they wouldn’t be letting it go for at least a day or two. 

As Vivien and her aunts made their way down the beach toward them, Royce ducked past Carrie and Mick and gave a halfhearted response to his girlfriend’s question as to where he was going before ducking into the log cabin they were staying in and allowing the door to slam shut behind himself. Now that he’d had the chance to simmer and wallow in his mortification, Royce wondered if the red tinting his skin was due to the hot water or the embarrassment he still felt pulsing through his veins. Despite the mint-scented body wash he’d practically caked himself in, he could still smell the strong odor of seaweed and fish in the air. Royce sighed; maybe he had gotten water up his nose.

A knock on Royce’s door drew his attention away from his misery and he cleared his throat before asking, “Who is it?”

“Just me.” 

Bentley. Royce took in a deep breath and said, “Come in.”

The handle twisted and Bentley pushed his way into the room with a grin before closing the heavy door behind him. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” Royce offered. “Did you guys start without me?”

“Of course not,” Bentley chuckled as he moved to sit beside his brother, “but Mickie wants us to watch a video before we play Mafia, so I said I’d come see if you were ready to join.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Royce said as he set his towel aside. “I just hope they’re alright with me still smelling like fish.”

“Ah,” Bentley breathed with a smirk, “so that’s what that smell is.”

Shoving Bentley, Royce chuckled, “Shut up.”

Bentley let out a short laugh, “Seriously, though, you smell fine.”

“Well, good, ‘cause I’m sitting next to you.”

“Oh no!” Bentley gasped dramatically. “Whatever shall I do? I’ll have to deal with you smelling like three-day-old sushi all night.”

“You are such a dick.”

“I can’t be a dick, my name’s not Richard.”

Royce shook his head with a laugh, “Whoever decided Dick was a good name for Richard, clearly hated people named Richard.”

“I know, right,” Bentley chuckled. Pushing himself to his feet, Bentley nudged Royce with the back of his hand and asked, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah,” Royce nodded, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

“You’d better hurry or I’ll eat your peanut butter M&Ms.”

With a roll of his eyes, Royce grabbed his towel and stood, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

As Bentley reached the door, his hand wrapped around the handle, he turned back to Royce and asked, “Hey, um, can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” Royce said as he tossed his towel into the hamper beside his dresser.

Taking in a contemplative breath, Bentley asked, “Have you noticed anything different with Mick lately?”

Glancing over as he took a pair of shorts and a shirt from his dresser, Royce shrugged, “Not that I know of, why?”

“People are saying she’s pregnant.”

“Really?” When Bentley nodded, Royce asked, “Who did you hear that from?”

Knowing how quickly Royce would dismiss the thought if he said where he truly heard it from, Benltey said, “Some campers. I guess it’s been passing around camp.”

Royce thought for a moment before sighing, “We live with her; I think we would know if she was pregnant.”

“Maybe, but maybe she and Butchy wanted to keep it a secret and someone overheard them talking about it,” Bentley suggested.

The more Royce thought about it, the more things made sense. He knew how fast rumors spread - Vivien’s friendship with Noah being one that was spun into a mess. If Mick and Butchy truly were going to have a baby and someone overheard them talking, it wouldn’t be long before the whole camp knew. Even if they weren’t and someone had made it up, it wouldn’t take long for the camp-wide game of Telephone to make its rounds. Besides, if anyone else had noticed her exhaustion as of late, her few-and-far-between coffee refills at breakfast, or the way she no longer stole pickles from Butchy’s plate during meals, that would only contribute to the way things were spiraling.

“Maybe we should ask and see if anyone has seen a difference in her,” Royce suggested as he set his clothes for the next day on his desk chair.

“I asked Erica and Jade if they noticed anything,” Bentley said, “and Erica said she hadn’t noticed anything, but Jade noticed she’s been having stomach pains lately.”

Royce nodded thoughtfully as he joined Bentley by the door, “I guess we’ll just have to keep an eye on her. Maybe I’ll talk to Miles tomorrow and see if he knows anything.”

“He’s her best friend,” Bentley mused as he pulled the door open. “He and Butchy would be at the top of the list of people Mick would tell.”

“It’s worth a shot,” Royce agreed as he followed Bentley to the stairs.

Royce’s day had gotten off to a pretty good start. Despite sleeping in far later than he usually did, almost everything had gone well. The mess hall had his favorite omelets for breakfast, the library was practically empty up to lunch, and some of the other staff had helped put together a makeshift carnival on the soccer field for everyone to have fun that afternoon. A trampoline Vivien claimed they had borrowed from her grandparents’ house was on one side of the field, a rented slip-and-slide was on the other end, and a myriad of games littered the area. The only other activity that had been set up was a water balloon fight; buckets filled with peltable balloons were arranged in a row stretching across the grass at the bottom of the fence that surrounded the playground off to the side of the field. 

As Royce wandered aimlessly through the field, he spotted his older brother crouching behind a piece of the wooden play structure, water balloon in hand. Making his way over to the wooden fence that separated the playground from the soccer field, Royce watched as a small girl Royce knew usually stayed in the back corner of the library, poked her head around the rock climbing wall and chucked a green balloon in Miles’ general direction before ducking back behind the wall. Just as Royce was about to call out to Miles, he heard another child laugh and watched a balloon sail just over Miles’ head. Miles peered over the wooden planks that sheltered him and quickly threw his balloon, watching it nail a kid who was no older than ten as he crossed an exposed bridge.

“Ah!” the kid shrieked as water burst across his shirt.

Another kid climbed up on the monkey bars to get a better view, but before they could make their shot at Miles, Royce called, “Hey, Miles!” As the kids stalled and Miles turned to see who wanted him, Royce asked, “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

Miles nodded, turning and raising his arms in surrender before calling out to the kids, “Hey, guys? I’m tapping out!”

“Come on!” the kid on the monkey bars moaned as Miles stood.

“For how long?” another whined.

“Dunno,” Miles replied as he shrugged. Despite the children’s grumbling complaints, Miles walked over to the fence Royce leaned against with a smile and lowered his voice as he asked, “Hey, what’s up?”

“I, uh, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Alright,” Miles nodded, “go ahead.”

Royce glanced over to where Mick was standing with Butchy, utterly annihilating him at the ring toss station, before looking back to Miles. “I don’t know how else to say this, so I’m just going to ask.” Royce took in a deep breath and sighed, “Do you think there’s any way Mick could be pregnant?”

Although he appeared taken aback, Miles glanced over at Mick and Butchy and thought for a moment before meeting Royce’s eyes and asking, “Where did this come from?”

“Bentley,” Royce replied. “He said he heard a few campers talking about it yesterday and that it could be just a rumor, but from what I’ve seen, it could be true.”

Letting out a slow breath, Miles asked, “What have you seen?”

Royce took in a breath to organize his thoughts before he began, “She’s not drinking energy drinks anymore and she’s having a lot less coffee at breakfast, she hasn’t been eating much of anything and can’t look at certain foods without gagging, and even Jade says that Mick’s been having a lot of stomach pains lately.”

“And both you and Ben think that means she could be pregnant?”

“I looked it up on my phone while I was at my post earlier and the symptoms are very similar.”

Miles spared another glance at Mick as she dragged Butchy to yet another booth with a gleaming smile on her face. Taking a good look at his friend, he wanted nothing more than to dispute Royce’s claim. She looked fine! Not that pregnancy would make her look bad, by any means, but she looked the same as she always did. Shaking his head, he asked, “And Bentley was sure he heard them correctly?”

Royce nodded, humming in confirmation, “He seemed worried about her, so I’d say so, yeah.”

“I’ll try asking him about it later, maybe he’ll remember who it was that said it and we can go from there.”

“Sounds good.”

“Yeah.”

Just as Royce was about to head back to the makeshift carnival, a pain flared against his shoulder as he felt water splash across his face and down his arm. “Ow!” he yelled, sending a glare at the cockily-smirking girl who threw and caught another water balloon. 

“What the fuck?” Miles called to the kids as they laughed from their places on the play structure.

“I’m not even playing!” Royce called.

“‘Cause you’re a chicken?” a boy called back.

“Chicken!” the girl with the devilish smile taunted.

“You’re a chicken, Royce!” another kid called.

As the children continued their teasing in the hopes of goading Royce into playing, Royce sighed, “Sometimes, I really hate those kids.”

Miles turned to Royce with a smirk and nodded toward the kids, lowering his voice as he asked, “You want to fuck them up?”

Royce took a look around and, noting that everyone was a pretty good distance from them, nodded as he turned back to Miles, “Yeah, I do.”

With a proud grin, Miles turned back toward the kids and began walking back to his previous spot as he called out, “You asked for it!”

“Better run, you little rugrats!” Royce called as he climbed over the fence.

Filing into the mess hall with damp shirts and laughter on their lips, Miles and Royce made their way to the end of the line to grab trays and fill them with food. After grabbing a tray, Royce took off, telling Miles he was going to talk to Vivien before disappearing down the line. Miles shook his head with a fond smile, glad his brother found happiness in little moments with his girlfriend. After grabbing some mac and cheese from its tin, Miles rounded a few campers and found himself next to Bentley as his youngest brother shoveled steak tips onto his plate.

“Let me guess,” Miles began, making Bentley jump, “you’re planning on drowning that in ketchup.”

“Absolutely,” Bentley beamed. “And you’ll pour that nasty steak sauce on yours like you always do.”

“Okay, first of all, it’s not nasty, you just have no taste buds,” Miles said. “And, second of all, yes, yes, I will.”

As Bentley’s face contorted into one of disgust, he handed the tongs to Miles and muttered, “Gross.”

Rolling his eyes with a smile, Miles grabbed some steak from the tin it sat in. Glancing at his youngest brother, Miles lowered his voice and said, “You know, I was actually hoping to talk to you.”

Bentley turned to Miles before quickly sighing, his eyes closing in defeat as he said, “If this is about the salamander, I swear, I had nothing to do with it.”

Miles turned toward Bentley again and asked, “What salamander?”

Searching his brother’s eyes for any sign of deception, Bentley slowly said, “I take it Carrie didn’t tell you.”

“No,” Miles said. “Why? What happened?”

Letting out a snort, Bentley recalled, “She and I were walking to the cabin so we could make sure we had stuff for the movie tonight and, on the way back, Carrie went to take a drink of her water and found that a little lizard had climbed onto her bottle.”

“And you had nothing to do with it?” Miles asked skeptically.

“Of course not,” Bentley replied. “Carrie and I have actually been getting along. If Royce had been there, I would have blamed him, but he was with you, so…”

“So the lizard just wanted a drink, huh?”

“Guess so.”

Heaving a sigh as he joined Bentley at the juice bowl, Miles said, “Anyway, that wasn’t what I was hoping to talk with you about.”

“Oh yeah, right,” Bentley chuckled. “So, what do you wanna talk about?”

“I was talking with Royce earlier and he said you told him there’s a rumor that Mick might be pregnant,” Miles stated. “I was just wondering if you knew which campers were spreading it around?”

“Well,” Bentley began, heaving a thoughtful sigh as he looked up at his brother, “the thing is, I didn’t overhear it from some campers.”

“You didn’t?” When Bentley shook his head, Miles asked, “Why did you tell Royce you had?”

Bentley sighed, “I didn’t want to say anything to Royce because I knew he would deny it if he knew who really told me. He’d probably say she was just spreading crap around or something, but I knew it was true and I didn’t want him to just brush it off.”

It didn’t take Miles long to figure out who his youngest brother was talking about. “You heard it from Carrie?”

“Yeah, she and I talked about it yesterday,” Bentley said with a nod. “She said that Charlie told her some girls in the dance studio were talking about it.”

Glancing at the table they normally sat at, Miles was glad to see the table had yet to be filled with their cabin’s inhabitants, but both of Vivien’s aunts had already claimed their normal seats. Then, just as Miles was preparing to make his way over and question Charlie himself, Mick and Butchy made their way to their seats and began conversing with the older women. Turning back to his brother, Miles asked, “Tonight, when Charlie and Hayley are making snacks for movie night, can you keep the others away so I can talk to them?”

Raising his hand to his forehead in a mock salute, Bentley smiled, “Aye aye, captain.”

Chuckling, Miles reached up and ran a hand through Bentley’s hair, ruffling it as he turned and headed for the table they typically dined at. Sitting down at his usual spot, he briefly wondered if Mick knew about the circulating rumors or if it had been a rumor at all. If her beaming smile and boundless laughter at Hayley’s terrible jokes were anything to go by, he doubted the brunette knew anything of the rumors. However, he couldn’t be sure. Mick’s tendency to laugh during awkward situations made it hard to tell what she did or didn’t know. Even if she was pregnant and had chosen to keep it a secret, he wondered if the rumors floating around would have any effect on her. She took almost everything to heart.

Miles inwardly sighed; he would just have to wait and find out for himself.

The smell of popcorn and the sound of laughter filled the cabin as Miles stepped inside. While everyone else was outside, playing ninja on the end of the pier and pushing the losers into the lake, Miles had slipped away in the hopes of finding Charlie and Hayley alone in the house. Just as he had presumed, they were in the kitchen, sitting on the countertops with cups of green juice that looked almost radioactive.

“Hey, Miles,” Hayley greeted, raising her cup slightly as Charlie waved. 

“Hey,” he said in return.

“Did Viv send you in to ask about the snacks?” she asked with a knowing smirk. Before he could answer, Hayley chuckled, “She knows I won’t give her a straight answer, so she sends her friend instead - the little shit.”

Before Miles could say anything to the contrary, Charlie smiled and said, “The popcorn isn’t in yet, but the pretzels are almost done.”

“That’s good,” Miles said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Viv didn’t send me in, though.”

“Oh,” Hayley said, “that’s surprising.”

“What did you come in for?” Charlie asked. “A drink, some chips, maybe to save me from my wife’s terrible puns.”

Hayley scoffed, placing a hand over her heart as though she’d been stabbed, “My jokes aren’t terrible!”

“Yeah, they are.”

“You laughed, asshole.”

“It was a pity laugh.”

“Bullshit,” Hayley laughed.

With a roll of her eyes and an exaggerated sigh, Charlie turned her focus back to Miles and smiled as she asked, “Anyway, what do you need, sweetheart?”

“I was actually hoping to ask you something,” Miles admitted.

“Me?” Charlie asked, pointing to herself. Miles hummed in confirmation. “Well, in that case, I’m all ears.”

Taking in a deep breath, Miles sighed as he slowly recounted, “Royce told me that Bentley said that Carrie told him that you said you heard people talking about Mick being pregnant. I was wondering if you knew who was talking about it?”

As Charlie thought it over, her eyebrow raised and she lowered her cup of juice to the counter beside her as she said, “Some girls in the studio were talking about it, yeah, but they said that they heard it from you and Vivien.”

“What?” Miles wondered. “But I just found out about it today.”

Charlie glanced down, allowing herself to think over what had happened in the last week. Slowly, she claimed, “On Monday, I was instructing ballet and jazz. Dina Woodward injured her wrist and I stepped out with her to wrap it. When I came back, everyone in the studio was giggling and talking. A group of girls said they went by the music hall on their way in and overheard you and Vivien talking about Mick being pregnant.”

Miles allowed the woman’s words to sink in as he tried to recall what happened on Monday. He and Vivien had been in the music hall, playing guitar, talking, and relaxing as rain pelted the area. Vivien had been particularly tired that day, nearly falling asleep on Miles' shoulder as they sat in silence. Then, as the timer for the pretzels dinged, it hit him. While Miles was worrying about the possibility of rain coming through the ceiling, Vivien had asked him a question about the chance of Mick being pregnant, listing off her reasoning for thinking about it. While they were talking, the wind had slammed the door. However, Vivien had checked it and they moved on like nothing happened. Maybe it hadn’t been the wind. Maybe it had been the campers listening in.

“We started all of this,” he admitted softly. With a heavy sigh, Miles said, “I have to go tell Vivien so we can stop the rumors.”

As Hayley pulled the tray of pretzels from the oven, she requested, “Maybe you should wait until tomorrow.”

“What?” Miles asked. “Why?”

Charlie hopped down from the counter and crossed over to Miles, resting a hand on his arm as she replied for her wife, “Tonight, we’re supposed to be relaxing with some good movies and good snacks. Let everyone take some time to breathe - yourself included - and you can worry about it tomorrow.”

“But-”

Charlie was quick to cut him off, reaching up and cupping Miles’ cheek in her free hand to draw his attention to her words, “But it will still be an issue tomorrow and everyone will still be understanding tomorrow. Take the night to enjoy time with the family. Rumors at camp don’t last, but memories with your family do. You can work things out with everyone tomorrow, but give yourself time to process it for now.”

“Yeah,” Hayley agreed as she moved to stand beside her wife as Charlie patted Miles’ shoulder comfortingly. “Besides, Vivien will go into a full-tilt frenzy trying to make things right and, if you start that tonight, that poor child won’t sleep. If you tell her in the morning, she’ll have enough energy to fuss about it all day.”

“Hails,” Charlie gently reprimanded, elbowing the woman beside her.

“What?” Hayley asked rhetorically, a laugh falling from her lips as she returned to the counter to salt the pretzels. “It’s the truth. She’s just like me and we both know it.”

With a roll of her eyes and a sigh, Charlie turned back to Miles and smiled, “As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right. I know you want to fix this here and now, but you and I both know you want Vivien’s help since you both are, somehow, at the start of it.”

“Yeah,” Miles admitted in a breath.

“So, like Hayley said, I think you should wait,” Charlie claimed. “It will still be there tomorrow and you can work on it together without having to deal with a sleep-deprived, caffeine-riddled Vivien stumbling through the grounds like Jack Sparrow on dry land.”

Letting out a snicker at the mental image of Vivien fumbling her way through the camp with a bullhorn, shouting incoherent claims in the hopes of clearing Mick’s reputation, Miles chuckled, “Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be the greatest way to handle things.”

“Mhm,” Charlie hummed, patting Miles' hand as she turned and grabbed a stack of cups from the counter. “Now, take these out and hand them to everyone. We’ll be out in a few with snacks and drinks and then we can start the movie.”

“Are you sure you guys don’t need help?” Miles offered.

“Are you a psychiatrist?” Hayley asked as she set a bag of popcorn in the microwave.

Miles’ head tipped curiously to the side as his eyebrow raised and he slowly replied, “No?”

“Then, no, I think we’re all set,” Hayley chirped as the microwave whirred to life.

Rolling her eyes once more, Charlie pushed the cups into Miles’ hands and said, “Take these and run before you’re subjected to any of her horrendous jokes.”

Miles chuckled, taking the cups and heading toward the hallway, “Alright, alright, I’m going.”

As the popcorn began sizzling in the microwave, Hayley turned to Charlie, leaned against the counter, and asked, “If my jokes are so bad, why do you always laugh?”

“Because I love you,” Charlie answered with ease as she sidled her way up to her wife.

“And here I thought you found me funny.”

“Funny looking, maybe,” Charlie teased, “but those puns of yours are just plain terrible, my dear.”

Placing the back of her hand to her forehead and letting out a gasp of air, Hayley whined, “Oh, how you wound me!”

“Drama queen.”

“Fun hater.”

“Oh yeah?” Charlie said. When Hayley nodded, Charlie asked, “Do you know what the leading cause of divorce is?”

Curious, Hayley offered, “A lack of humor in a relationship?”

“Nope,” Charlie said with a shake of her head before leaning up and kissing Hayley on the cheek. “A stalemate.”

As Charlie took the bag of popcorn from the microwave and opened it to pour it into a bowl, Hayley processed the joke, her jaw slowly opening in shock, “Holy shit; was that a fucking pun?!”

“You know,” Vivien mused, “when Carrie told me to break a leg, this wasn’t what I thought she meant.”

In place of their usual day of recreation and rehearsals, that Friday was spent challenging the campers and staff alike. Unlike many of their previous days filled with activities, The Gauntlet - as the campers had begun calling it - had taken place at the amphitheatre and, as many expected, many workers had signed on to participate. Between the ropes course, the speed challenge, the scavenger hunt, and the climbing wall, everyone had their work cut out for themselves in one way or another. While the campers competed in teams, the staff were left to fend for themselves.

It was to no one’s surprise that Vivien had signed up to compete; her boundless energy and competitive nature boiled over when she found both Riven’s and Noah’s names on the sign-up sheet. What was surprising, however, was the fact that she ended up getting injured. Despite making it through the race in the top three and finding everything on her scavenger hunt list with relative ease, it was the ropes course that had been Vivien’s downfall. Near the end of the course, her foot had slipped on the wooden planks, sending her flying into the podium, and she narrowly avoided slamming face-first into the trunk of a tree. 

Riven had managed to get her down after she quickly discovered how painful standing was, but as the auburn-haired skater was next in line for the next segment of the challenge, Miles had offered to take Vivien to the health center to see how bad her injury truly was. That was where they could be found, Miles hitching Vivien further up in his piggyback hold as he made his way to the front entrance of the health center. 

Miles chuckled, “I highly doubt you’ve broken anything.”

“I know, but still,” Vivien shrugged. “It’s a good thing I got to know her before Royce’s impression of Carrie infected my brain.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm,” the brunette hummed. “Otherwise, I would’ve said she put some ancient curse on me or something.”

Miles let out a snort as he paused to glance over his shoulder at the younger girl, “An ancient curse? Really?”

“I’m from New England, the home of literal witches,” Vivien deadpanned. “At this point, anything’s possible.”

With an amused shake of his head, Miles chuckled, “Yeah, I can’t see Carrie as a witch.”

“I could,” Vivien said with a smirk as Miles pushed the health center door open with his shoe. At Miles’ curious look, she said, “Tell me she wouldn’t be an incredible Sarah Sanderson.”

“That’s the one from Hocus Pocus, right?” Miles asked as he nudged his way further into the building. “The one who they push into the street to see if it kills them?”

“Yeah!” Vivien chirped as Miles set her on one of the beds. “You know, the blonde who sings to draw everyone in with her magic. Carrie would be incredible as her.”

As Miles pulled a stool over to sit on, he nodded, smiling at Vivien as he sat before her, “I could see that working out.”

“Just wait until I have her watch those with me after my birthday,” Vivien chuckled. “I give her an hour before she starts planning to have you two dress up as Sarah and Billy for halloween.”

“An hour?” Miles chuckled with a shake of his head. “Half an hour, maybe, but I doubt she’d wait an entire hour.”

Vivien smiled as she worked on untying her shoes, “Yeah, true. Maybe she, Mick, and I could go as the Sanderson sisters this year.”

“I thought you, Royce, and Bentley were going as Stranger Things characters.”

“We haven’t decided yet,” Vivien shrugged. “I wanted to go as Max or Robin and Royce was going as Steve or Dustin. Bentley wanted to go as Will, but then he saw the demogorgon costume and now that’s up in the air. But, if they can’t decide before we go to Spirit Halloween, I’m going to just go with the girls and they can fend for themselves.”

Miles let out a snort as Vivien dropped her shoe to the floor, “Then I’ll have to listen to them whining for the foreseeable future.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

Miles chuckled and shook his head, “Speaking of problems, we need to talk about something, but first, can you move your foot at all?”

Vivien sucked in a breath and winced as she moved her foot around in a slow circle, “Yeah, but it hurts.”

“Alright, so it’s definitely not broken,” he mused, “but it could be a sprain or a twist.”

“My bet’s on a sprain,” Vivien commented. “Even with a twist, I can stand and put weight on it.”

Miles looked around, “Do you know where they keep the crutches?”

Raising a hand, Vivien pointed to a closet on the far wall, “In there. The code for the lock is nineteen-seventy-three - the year Nonna and Grandpa George got married.”

Miles stood and made his way to the closet, setting the lock aside and opening the door before grabbing a set of crutches and making his way back to Vivien. “How tall are you?” he asked as he examined the slider at the bottom of the metal crutches.

“Five-eight,” she replied. As Miles got to work on adjusting her crutches, Vivien used a sigh to blow her hair from her face and asked, “So, what problems do we need to talk about?”

Glancing up at the girl before him, Miles took in a breath and asked, “Do you remember the other day when you and I were talking about Mick being pregnant?”

The brunette thought for a moment before slowly nodding, “Uh, yeah, why? Is she?”

“No,” Miles said before pausing. “Actually, I don’t know. What I do know is that a group of campers overheard us and has been spreading a rumor around camp that Mick’s pregnant.”

Vivien let out a humorless chuckle, “You’re kidding, right?”

“I wish I was.”

“How did you find out about it?” she asked.

“Royce told me and Bentley had told him,” Miles stated. “I guess Bentley heard it from Carrie who heard it from Charlie who heard it when the campers went to the dance studio after overhearing us talk about it.”

Vivien thought about the chain of events before recalling, “When the door slammed and I went to check it, there were campers running to the dance studio, but they were far enough away that I thought it couldn’t have been them.”

“Well, I guess it actually was.” Miles set the crutches aside for Vivien and looked up at her before saying, “Now, we have to fix it.”

Vivien nodded slowly, “We should talk to Mick first and get things straight. If the rumor is about her, she should know about it.”

“Yeah, and even if she’s actually pregnant, it would be best to get the story straight,” Miles agreed.

Vivien nodded, but before she could say anything more, the door to the health center opened and Butchy stepped inside, sending the pair a smile as he asked, “How’s everything going?”

Miles was the first to answer, “It’s probably a sprain.”

“I’ll be fine after a day or two,” Vivien shrugged. “I’ve sprained my foot before and it never lasts long if I take a day off of it.”

“Alright,” Butchy said with a small grin, “in that case, consider yourself crutch-bound for the next few days.”

“It’s going to suck at the carnival tomorrow,” Vivien sighed, “but that’s what I get for doing stupid shit.”

Fighting the instinct to tell the teenager off for swearing when a child could walk in at any minute, Butchy chuckled and leaned against the bed next to her, “We’ll work something out for you tomorrow, piccola. One of those air casts or a brace, maybe.”

“Maybe.” Vivien shrugged, “As long as I get to go on the Tilt-A-Whirl, I’ll be fine with whatever.”

Butchy reached up, bringing an arm around Vivien’s shoulders with a smile, “Atta girl. You feel up to going back to the amphitheatre and watching the rest of the competition?”

“It might take me a while to get there,” Vivien snickered as she took her new metallic friends and settled them under her arms, “but yeah. Are Noah and Riven still in it?”

“Noah lost the ropes course to Riven, but that’s all I know,” Butchy claimed as he stood.

As Vivien stood and began hobbling her way to the door she turned to Miles and asked, “Are you coming?”

Miles smiled, “Yeah, I just have to lock up the closet again. I’ll meet you along the way.”

“Okay,” she said, allowing Butchy to take the lead as she made her way outside.

Once the closet was locked up once again, Miles pulled his phone from his pocket and opened his messages. Finding his last conversation with Mick, he typed, 'Can we talk later? In private?'

It wasn’t long before he got a reply, 'Of course, why, what’s up?'

'Too much to type. Meet in the playhouse after dinner?'

'Sure, see you there.'

It wasn’t often that Butchy found himself walking back to the cabin without Mick by his side, however, as he had kitchen duty that week, he had told her to just head out while he got to work cleaning up. Though the air outside the mess hall was still thick with humidity, the sky had begun to darken and cool the heat of the day. The amount of plates covered in chili and melted cheese had made his fingertips turn to raisins in the soapy sink water and the steam from the hot water made him feel as though he’d been working in a sauna, but the cooler outside air was a welcoming contrast to the heat of the wooden building. Taking in a deep breath, Butchy sighed as a breeze blew by, urging him to make his way back to the lodge he resided in.

He wondered what everyone was up to. They wouldn’t have a game night or movie night without him there as they only ever spent those nights as a whole group. Maybe they were sitting around the living room, doing their own thing. Mick would probably be reading in her corner of the couch while Miles and Riven talked music on the opposite end. Charlie, Jade, and Carrie would most likely be found painting each others’ faces in jelly masks while Bentley and Royce would be on the floor with Vivien, talking about things they only ever talked about together. If he had to guess, Erica and Hayley would be talking off to the side. For some reason, the unlikely pair had grown close after Erica discovered Hayley was the wild child in her family and Butchy had seen the two talking a lot as of late.

Letting out a long breath, Butchy pushed his hair back and began the walk home. Normally the walk went by quickly as everyone chattered about their days and the camper drama they had heard. However, as cicadas chirped in the bushes and the faint buzz of the sparse overhead lights, the journey felt as though it would take a lifetime. A few cabins still had campers and counselors lingering outside, chatting as they dreaded the call of lights out, but many kept their doors closed as they prepared for the evening. 

Pushing his way through a line of bushes, Butchy took a shortcut between the health center and the playhouse, glancing toward the health center to make sure the lights were off before continuing toward the playhouse. Spotting a light on through one of the side windows, Butchy made his way to the back of the building, opened the screen door, and pushed his way inside before pulling out his cell phone for a flashlight. Just as he flicked it on, he heard a voice from the main hall where a performance would be rehearsed for the next week.

Choosing to not call out in case it was just people cleaning, Butchy made his way through the back rooms before stepping through the doorway that led to the back of the stage. As he got closer, the voices got louder and, before long, he could make out a set of distinct voices. A heavy sigh came from the main room before he heard a familiar voice say, “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

Mick? What was she doing in the playhouse at this hour? Was she helping someone run lines? Then another voice cut through Butchy’s thoughts, “I wish I was.”

Miles. Since when did he have anything to do with the play? He hated being on stage. Before Butchy could peer around the curtains of the stage to see what was going on, his hand stilled in the air and another voice filled the air, “I mean, at least you found out from us first and not from some random campers, right?”

Vivien’s question gave Butchy pause. As far as he could recall, Hairspray didn’t have a summer camp. Whatever they were discussing, had nothing to do with the play. Lowering his hand, Butchy listened as his wife scoffed, “Still! Half the camp thinks I’m pregnant and I had no clue! Is that why everyone’s been asking me if I’m okay and checking on me all the time?”

“Probably,” Vivien said. “It could just be that they were worried about you.”

“Why would they be?” Mick pressed. “I’m fine.”

“You weren’t eating well and you got nauseous at breakfast almost every day,” Miles stated. 

Mick let out a sigh and Butchy could imagine her pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration as she huffed, “I started my period and my sense of smell went haywire. It usually goes away after the first few days.”

“You were tired all the time too,” Vivien chimed in.

Butchy had noticed Mick’s exhaustion as of late, but he knew Mick had a good explanation for that as well. “I have two reasons for that,” she began. “First off, I was trying to finish my book before my interest in it died during the week. And, second, Butchy and I have been going on late-night excursions for the camp.”

“You have?” Vivien asked. “Why?”

Mick sighed, “I can’t say just yet, but you’ll see sooner or later. For now, just know that, no, I’m not pregnant. We’ll just have to work on clearing it all up over the weekend with all the kids gone.”

“How are we going to do that?” Miles asked.

Again, Mick sighed, her voice low as she said, “I don’t know, but we can start by spreading things to the counselors. Once they know the truth, they can talk with the campers and clear the air in the privacy of their cabins.”

“We can also tell everyone in our cabin so they can relax,” Vivien added.

“Who else knows about this and didn’t say anything?” Mick asked.

“Royce told me,” Miles began, “and he found out from Bentley, who was told by Carrie, who heard it from Charlie, who was told by the dancers.”

“And I talked to Riven and Aunt Hayley about it

“So practically everyone?” Mick asked.

Vivien chuckled nervously, “To be fair, not everyone believed it, so they didn’t say anything to anybody outside of the cabin.”

“Actually,” Miles started, “Bentley said he talked to Erica and Jade, but I think they’re the only ones outside of the cabin who knew.”

“The only person I think hasn’t heard about it, is Butchy,” Vivien claimed. 

“Yeah,” Miles agreed, “I think he would’ve said something if he did.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Mick huffed. After a moment of silence, she took in a breath and said, “We’ll start tonight. We can talk to everyone and make sure everything is smoothed out. As long as we can get through to most of the people in our cabin tonight, I’ll feel better about it, but I want to talk to Butchy about it one-on-one.”

“That’s understandable,” Miles stated.

“I’ll work on everyone else at breakfast,” Vivien said. “I know a few people who would spread it around fastest. Once I get to them, things will clear up pretty quickly.”

As the call for everyone to return to their cabins echoed through the camp, Butchy heard Mick let out a relieved sigh, “With any luck, this will be over before the campers come back.”

“Yeah,” Vivien said optimistically.

“Now, lets get back before the others send out a search party,” Miles chuckled.

“And get to clearing the air with everyone before Butchy gets back from cleaning the mess hall,” Vivien added.

“Yeah,” Mick muttered.

As Butchy listened to their footsteps echo throughout the playhouse, he inched the curtain to the side, watching as his wife left with Miles and Vivien’s arms wrapped around her. None of them looked back to see him standing there, watching them, and as Miles flicked the house lights off, turning the playhouse into a dark abyss of shadows, Butchy wondered how long they had been there, talking. Had he found them early in the conversation or had they been there since they left the mess hall? 

Another thing that came to the front of Butchy’s mind was how everyone seemed to know apart from him. Was he truly the last person in their cabin to hear the rumor about Mick’s pregnancy? Who could have started something like that and how had the rumor begun spreading? If it was truly just a rumor as it sounded like Mick said it was, how had it spread throughout the camp? And, again, how would he have been the last to know? As the father of Mick’s rumored child, why would he be the last person in line to know?

Taking in a breath, Butchy shook his head and sighed. He was overthinking it. Mick already said it was nothing more than a rumor; he had nothing to be stressed over. It wasn’t like she was actually pregnant and simply chose not to tell him. If that had been the case, he would have had every right in the world to be at least a little bit upset. That would have been an entirely new can of worms to crack open.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket once more, Butchy turned on the flashlight and made his way back to the back door, ensuring that the lights were off and everything was put away before leaving the playhouse and making his way to the path that connected to the beach. He took his time getting back to the cabin and, by the time he reached the sand of the beach, the sun had set behind the treeline and everyone was congregating on the end of the pier. Despite their smiling faces and jokes about how many dishes he must have had to scrub, he could see in their eyes how serious their previous conversations must have been.

As Butchy took his seat on the pier beside his wife and felt her head rest cozily on his shoulder, he wondered just how long it would take her to tell him. After spending so much time with her, he knew she would need time to sort through her thoughts and feelings on the matter. He had no issue allowing her the space to do so. If he had found out some rumor about himself was spreading amongst his closest friends as well as a myriad of gossiping campers, he would be pretty worked up about it too. As they watched the sunset illuminate the sky, Butchy allowed himself to relax. After all, he had nothing to worry about… right?

Ah, the carnival. The only place where the overwhelming smell of popcorn and fried dough, the sky-high prices of tickets, and the crowds packed tighter than a tin of sardines didn't have any effect on people’s happiness. Workers standing in the summer heat called for people of all ages to try the rigged games they were stationed at, begging them to pay five dollars for a toy they could easily buy at the dollar store. While parents were dragged to ticket counters and various rides their children claimed they just had to ride, groups of teenagers and adults alike gathering on the weekend for a day away from jobs and other responsibilities, roamed free.

After Vivien’s grandparents reassured the group that they had bought day-pass bracelets for everyone, they were practically ushered to the parking lot and encouraged to have a good day away from everything. Upon their arrival at the fairgrounds, the group filed out of the van and found their way through the crowds of people to the line that extended from a row of brightly-colored ticket booths. After making their way to the front of the line and being handed a stack of bracelets with rubber bands wrapped around it, the group found their way to a fairly unoccupied table and worked on figuring out what to do for the day.

After deciding to meet at the Ferris Wheel to figure out what to have for lunch, almost everyone went their separate ways. Vivien and Riven were quick to race to a ride called Pharaoh's Fury, eager to prove that they could handle the pendulum-style ride. Royce and Bentley followed the skating duo but quickly branched off to the nearby Scrambler when Bentley saw just what the Pharaoh’s Fury entailed. As Miles and Carrie wandered off to find something to do, Butchy allowed Mick to guide him around the fairgrounds.

They walked in relative silence, the screams of people on rides and the calls from game operators the only sounds nearby. Butchy wondered what could be going on in Mick’s head. She hadn’t said much of anything since the night before and, while Butchy didn’t want to press her to talk, he missed the sound of her voice. Taking in a breath, Butchy looked around and offered, “Would you like some cotton candy?”

Mick looked up at him and thought for a moment before shaking her head, “Not right now. I think I’ll wait until after we go on some rides to eat anything.”

“Where would you like to go first?” he asked.

With a sigh, Mick looked around and shrugged, “I have no idea.”

Butchy allowed her to look around, taking in the different rides and attractions before asking, “Mickie, are you alright?”

Peering curiously up at her husband, Mick slowly replied, “I was until you asked. Why?”

“You’ve been pretty quiet today,” Butchy stated, “and, usually, you have days like this planned down to the tiniest detail. I was just worried.”

Heaving a sigh, Mick shook her head, “I just have a lot on my mind today. I wanted to talk with you about it when we’re alone, but it doesn’t seem like that will be any time soon.”

Deciding it would be best to inadvertently hit the nail on the head, Butchy lowered his voice and asked, “Is it about that rumor that was going around camp?” When Mick’s wide eyes met his, Butchy sighed, “I don’t know what you heard, but I swear, I didn’t take kitchen duty this week in order to poison Carrie. Not only would it risk poisoning everyone at camp, but it would also make me the number one suspect in her murder, according to Vivien.”

Mick stopped in her tracks and, once Butchy turned back to face her, she asked, “Wait, so you’ve had rumors going around about you this week too?”

“Yeah,” Butchy claimed. “I’m assuming you have too?”

“Yeah,” Mick breathed. “Everyone was saying I was pregnant.”

Butchy froze as though he was hearing this for the first time. Looking his wife over, he took a step closer to her, taking her by the arms as he softly asked, “You’re not?”

“No,” Mick giggled, “I just said it was a rumor.”

Butchy glanced around before quietly saying, “We can change that, if you’d like.”

Mick’s eyes widened as she muttered, “What?”

“It doesn’t have to be a rumor.” With a teasing smirk, Butchy continued, “We could sneak off to the car and nobody would know.”

A shocked noise left Mick and her face burned as she squawked, “Butchy!”

“What?” Butchy asked in mock-astonishment. “I just thought we could go get one of those fake pregnancy tests from that joke shop near Walmart. I don’t know what you were thinking we’d be doing.”

Mick smacked Butchy’s chest as she huffed, “Remind me why I married you.”

“I wish I knew,” Butchy chuckled as he brought an arm around Mick’s shoulders. “I think you were just in it for the motorcycle and I was like the cruddy little prize at the bottom of the cereal box - unnecessary, but you still took it anyway.”

“Sounds about right,” Mick said with a smile, nudging Butchy with her elbow before bringing her arm around his middle. “So, you never heard about the pregnancy rumor?”

“Not until you said something,” Butchy stated. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. He had heard her say it the night before, but she didn’t need to know that. “What about you? Had you heard about me poisoning Carrie?”

Mick snorted, “No, but to be honest, I wouldn’t put that past you.”

Acting as though he’d been shot in the heart, Butchy brought a hand to his chest and gasped, “And here I thought you’d be my alibi for the crime.”

“Yeah, no,” Mick said with a shake of her head as she led her husband toward a swinging chair ride. “You and I both know I’m a terrible liar, so the chances of that happening are slim to none.”

“Guess that means I should put the antifreeze back in the truck, then, huh?”

“Butchy!”

[atcordare]

TWST characters as things my 16 yo brother has done/still does.

Heartslabyul:

RIDDLE: Gave my mom a lecture because she wouldn't stop leaving lights on around the house.

ACE: I make him fine delicious wonderful delicate magnificent ethnic dishes and he fucking puts ketchup in them.

DEUCE: Currently sitting on the couch watching something on TV but he has a chair on his head.

TREY: 5 minutes straight complimenting a brioche bread I brought home from the market. When I had to go back for groceries two weeks later and he asked me to bring it again and I had to tell him I didn't remember which bread it was he was really disappointed.

CATER: Got rickrolled and immediately made the guys reenact the scene to send it to me in a vid and ruin MY morning too.

LEONA: He's a very heavy sleeper so if he wants to get to his school (7 minutes away from our house BTW) on time, which is at 9am, he has to set alarms every five minutes starting at 6.50am. They're extremely loud and everyone in the house wakes up to them. He doesn't. He stills get to school late, just with all of us mad at him.

.

Savannaclaw:

RUGGIE: Banned from being outside after 8pm because he WILL stop by the kebab place and bring back dinner without anyone asking him and he WILL demand the money back (also inflating the price a bit so he can get some benefits).

JACK: Heard me mention once that I wanted to play Hades so he asked for it on his birthday and gave it to me afterwards.

.

Octavinelle:

AZUL: He's the only one with physical cash at home so when any of us needs to grab some he's the one to lend it. He asks for it back like not even two days later and he will impose fees if you're late.

FLOYD: Sometimes he'll just grab the cats and reposition them. Like they're nicely sleeping and he just goes over, grabs them and leaves them somewhere else. He also doesn't understand when they get annoyed so he can only pet them in front of me and my mom. (EXTRA: had to leave his rowing team because he was too tall for his league's boats)

JADE: Will cut you off and start explaining advanced mathematics if he wants you to shut up.

.

Scarabia:

KALIM: *enters my room* HEY CHECK THIS OUT *starts jumping like with his knees to his chest and doesn't stop until he does a particularly high jump* OKAY CATCH YOU LATER *heads to the living room and starts playing the trombone he hasn't even looked at since he was 9*.

JAMIL: He's constantly mumbling his inner monologue but will get annoyed at you if you do the same.

.

Pomefiore:

VIL: When he was like seven our mom bought knee high boots with a 7cm heel and he stole them and wore them for like a week straight. He can now walk in high heels because of this.

ROOK: *enters my room* Kakashi from Naruto offers you choccy milk. Accept? Deny? *I reply that I shoot him in the chest six times bc I thought he was joking so he throws a choccy milk box at my head* WRONG YOU HEATHEN. *I turn and see him on a Naruto character cosplay-idk which one but definetly not Kakashi*

EPEL: We were at my Mexican extended family's house and we had tacos for lunch. When he heard out grandma in law tell us that we should be careful with the toppings because they were very spicy, he grabbed one of the tortillas, spooned all of the chili and pico de gallo he could get inside of it and ate it just like that. When asked he said he wanted to challenge himself but it doesn't really explain why he had do that another six times especially after making it obvious that he could NOT handle it.

.

Ignihyde:

IDIA: Used to carry an entire manga collection on his backpack every day. Not a short one either it was an entire 20 manga books on his back every day.

ORTHO: The kids at our school didn't like him very much so me and all of my higher grade friends adopted him. He was the token little kid in the 11th grade friend group.

.

Diasomnia:

MALLEUS: Sometimes he gets quiet during conversations when something someone said catches his attention. He will think about it, lose the thread of conversation, and, when the topic has already changed at least a few times, he will give his thoughts without even reminding us the context.

SEBEK: I told him once that he's not good playing Tracer at OW so now every time he plays her and wins he yells at me from his room and says I WON AGAIN USING TRACER!!!!

SILVER: Every time one of our cats meows he replicates the noise. We all do. We don't even notice we're doing it at this point.

LILIA: Constantly playing at a JJBA Roblox Roleplay server and when he loses I can hear him yelling at his 12yo teammates.