#honestly her getting used to spending time near them or in places that smell like them is very good groundwork for their eventual intros

[kiadanta]

Kia is staying with my partner while I'm abroad on holiday and she's not best pleased, poor baby. She's safe, she's well cared for, she's with someone she knows and likes, and she's getting attention, she's just,,, in a weird place without me, and not really impressed about it.

She's starting to chill out and settle in though! Slowly.

Ft @rinnaden

[incendiobrock]

Ghosted {Matt Sturniolo}

Request: Hi could I request Matt x reader.(Dialogue 20,action 17)The reader is Matt’s best friend but she loves him.It gets hard when he kinda ghosts her for this girl he has been seeing.When they do hang out that’s when the reader pours her heart out to him.Very much angst in the beginning but hopefully a fluffy ending.Thank you !

Prompt(s): accidental confession + “Are you crying?”

Warnings: language, angst, fluffy ending!

“We’re almost there.” Matt said softly, gently waking you up from your sleep. The plane was finally landing in Boston after hours of being in the air. Matt was kind enough to give you the window seat, knowing you would want to rest your head against it so you could take a nap.

“How long was I out for?” You questioned, feeling groggy and slightly out of it. Matt laughed, “You fell asleep maybe thirty minutes into the flight… And that’s a big maybe! It was honestly more like twenty minutes.” A smile grew on your face as a blush rose to your cheeks. He would always tease you because you could practically fall asleep under any circumstance. In the car, on a plane, on the couch, and you vaguely remembered falling asleep at the kitchen table at least once in your life.

Matt’s mom met you both outside of baggage claim greeting you both with a big hug. You would be staying at their childhood home for a few days, accompanying Matt with some secret project he was working on. Chris and Nick had decided to stay in LA which meant you had plenty of time to spend alone with Matt.

It was weird not having the others with you but you were excited to hang out with your best friend one on one. There had been talk of watching some movies, going to eat at some of your favorite Boston restaurants, and meeting up with some of your old high school friends together.

Matt had some plans for the first night, he was going to catch up with Nate and some others. You were going to just crash at the house and let them have a boys night, especially since it had been a few months since they had last seen each other. What you didn’t anticipate was that Matt would be completely ignoring your texts. Hours had passed and he hadn’t responded to your message asking when he would be coming back.

The sun was completely gone out of the sky and it was nearing midnight. The bedroom you would be sharing was dark and the bed you laid on felt unusually empty.

Are you okay? Haven’t heard from you in awhile

You texted him again, nerves getting the best of you. It wasn’t like him to not be on his phone for this long. Before you knew it the night had turned into morning and there was still no signs of Matt. It was a miracle you had even been able to fall asleep last night without hearing back from him.

The smell of bacon filled the house as you made your way out to the kitchen. You expected to see Mary Lou cooking your favorite breakfast but instead you were met with the sight of Matt’s back as he faced the stove.

“So what, you’re just ghosting me now?” You somewhat joked, causing him to turn around and see you standing at the island.

Matt didn’t reply as his phone buzzed, echoing off the counter where it was placed. You watched intently as he began to text back, assuming it must have been Chris or Nick since they never spend this much time apart. It became suspicious to you when you noticed how he was grinning about whatever he was reading.

“Oh so you do know how to use your phone…” You scoffed, insinuating the fact that he never responded to your messages from last night.

“Sorry, I was busy and forgot to respond.” He said, brushing you off.

As soon as the words left his mouth he was quickly tucking his phone away into his pants pocket. His lips forming a tight line as he glanced at the ceiling, twiddling his fingers now that they were set free from his phone screen. The sound of his phone buzzing still noticeable, even muffled by his pocket.

“Matt- Who is it and why are they blowing up your phone?” You pressed, his body language was setting off a million alarms in your head.

He was hiding something from you.

Matt sighed as his phone buzzed once again, he pulled it back out of his pocket and began to look over the messages he had received. Six messages to be exact.

I’m so happy you’re back in boston for a few days.

I would love to meet up again while you’re still here

We could go to that place we used to go to

What was it called?

Davis Park???

I remember we used to go there to watch the sunset by that little pond, I really miss that… Thanks again for last night, I had so much fun :)

You couldn’t help but read over his shoulder, your heart sank as you realized what had him so giddy. He was texting the girl that he used to have a thing with before you guys moved to LA. He had decided it would be best to not continue anything serious with her so as far as you knew he had cut ties with her. A familiar stinging sensation began in your eyes as tears started to form. You had no reason to be jealous, Matt was just your friend.

Nervously, you coughed trying to clear your throat, trying your best to think of anything else besides Matt with someone else. Next thing you knew you were sniffling, still fighting back the urge to cry.

“Are you crying?” Matt asked, sounding genuinely concerned as he watched you head back towards the stairs, trying to quickly remove yourself from the confines of the kitchen.

You stopped in your tracks at his voice, feeling your body tremble. You weren’t sure if it was from anger, nerves, or the overwhelming feeling of your heart being crushed.

“Y/n?”

The tears started to fall as your head spun thinking about how you had been ghosted immediately as he reunited with somebody else.

You turned around to face him, wanting to yell and scream and possibly cuss him out for the way he had treated you. A scowl was plastered on your face as you heaved in some air, trying to maintain some of your composure.

“You can’t seriously be upset about this?”

You felt your eyes roll bigger than they ever had before, was he hearing himself right now?

“Matt, you literally ghosted me. You could’ve died for all I know!” You said, raising your voice but trying hard not to yell since this wasn’t your house.

“I was busy.” He restated, as if that was any excuse to completely ignore someone he called his ‘best friend’.

“So I heard,” You scoffed, more tears leaving your eyes and staining your cheeks. How humiliating, letting him see you in this vulnerable of a state when he clearly doesn’t give a damn about you.

“You know Matt, if you weren’t so fucking stubborn maybe you would realize that there’s a girl who’s madly in love with you who doesn’t live halfway across the country!” You spit, realizing what you had said immediately after saying it. A hand flew over your mouth as your eyes widened in shock, “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant that.” You practically whispered.

Matt had closed the distance off between the two of you, now standing directly in front of you. “You what?” He asked back softly, searching your eyes for any hint that might confirm that you were telling him the truth.

Your body stayed frozen, unable to speak. “You’re in love with me?” He asked another question, breaking the suffocating tension that filled the air.

“Is that what I said?” You tried to joke, playing off your slip up.

“Yeah, that’s definitely what you said.”

His hands were now delicately taking ahold of your own, trying to ease your nerves and catch your full attention.

“I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just- you’re my best friend and all…” You rambled.

“That’s a shame, because the only reason I was out last night was because I was trying to avoid the fact that i’m madly in love with you.”

You felt your heartbeat speed up at his words, your cheeks heating up in return, “Really?”

“Really.” He replied. His eyes bore into your own, a slight gleam inside of them displaying his admiration for you.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered, bringing a hand up to brush some hair behind your ear before resting it on the side of your face. “Please do.” You answered, anticipating his next move that you had been waiting an antagonizing amount of time for.

His lips met yours in a slow but passionate manner, taking in every detail of your lips with his own. You melted at the touch, instantly forgetting any of your jealousy. If you would have known how addicting his lips would feel on yours you would’ve confessed a lot sooner. When you finally pulled apart he rested his forehead on yours, breathless.

You could definitely get used to this.

[tobiasdrake]

Digimon Adventure 01x03 - The Blue Wolf! Garurumon! / Garurumon

Previously on Digimon Adventure: Prank phone calls sure do hit different when the emergency line operator is the one doing them.

Good news is, we have like a day's worth of food. Bad news is, we're still in this awful place File Island and don't know how to go home. Or even where we can physically be that won't piss off territorial wildlife. Man, when I signed up for an Isekai, I was promised elf waifus and unearned combat supremacy; I want to speak with this place's manager!

We open on Taichi standing on the edge of a cliff, staring into emo distance. He's trying to make sense of the rules of this death world. Why did only Agumon evolve? Why did he lose his evolution and revert to Agumon again?

Agumon has no answers for him. As noted last episode, the Partner Digimon don't understand how this works either. We're all figuring this shit out together.

Dub Tai makes the wild-ass claim that they've already searched the whole island, which is a bald-faced lie given that exploring File Island will take up much of this arc. Then he just brags about how Greymon is super badass, rather than contemplating how evolution works.

Tai does also ask Agumon why he can't remain as Greymon, but he's more macho about it and kind of mean. "I like you better as Greymon," he says with actual words from his mouth. Agumon apologetically explains that "Even superheroes need a rest."

No time to keep thinking about this, nature has discovered us once again. Monochromon, an Adult-stage Digimon, smashes through some nearby rocks. Tentomon assures us that Monochromon are docile. The narrator agrees, but adds that they have a foul temper.

As a second Monochromon emerges from the other side of the group, the kids quickly decide to skedaddle out of the way. The Monochromon aren't here for us, we're just in the crossfire. Nature can be like that sometimes.

Tentomon speculates that this is a territorial dispute. Makes sense, and also not our problem so we book. Fleeing from this violence, Takeru trips and falls, but Yamato stops to help him, giving the brothers a nice moment.

Once we've run as far as we can from the territory duel, Mimi gets tired. She offhandedly complains that all this walking is going to thicken her calves, prompting Agumon to chime in that thick calves are good 'cause you can kick dirt with them. Palmon argues that leafy feat are better. Mimi is unswayed by both of these arguments.

Dub Mimi adds a bit about shopping malls; "I don't walk this much unless I'm at a mall, and as you can see, we're nowhere near one!" However, the thrust of her complaint remains that she's tired and sore from all this walking. Agumon inexplicably suggests she'd feel better if she took off her shoes and walked in bare feet. Palmon doubles down, saying she loves the feel of dirt between her toes. Mimi is not impressed.

Meanwhile, Koushiro and Sora discuss the strangely colored sunset of File Island. Even the sky in this place is weird. In any case, the sunset brings a more pressing concern: It's going to get dark soon. We're about to spend our first night on File Island.

Tentomon notices the smell of water in the air, so he takes to the sky to scout out and discovers a lake nearby. A freshwater drinking source is a huge discovery in a survival situation, so we should head that way!

It takes very little time to reach a survival consensus. Everyone is tired and hungry. We'll make camp at the lake and figure things out in the morning.

Well, consensus except for Dub Matt. Yamato likes the idea of stopping to rest for reasons that are clearly visible onscreen with him and require no elaboration. Matt, however, decides to be contrarian and barks that "We should keep walking and stop all the complaining!" Harsh, Matt.

Lake's full of telephone poles and shit but honestly we are past caring that File Island is weird. As we approach the lake, the group takes a moment to agree that this is a great spot to camp out for the night.

Mimi's nervous, though. She asks Taichi to clarify that camping means they have to sleep outdoors, which he confirms.

However, a new option suddenly presents itself courtesy of File Island being so weird. As if directly responding to their presence, a trolley sitting on a little island connected to the mainland by a manmade stone bridge suddenly turns on and calls their attention to it.

As they race for the trolley, Dub Tai inexplicably calls out, "Mimi, wait up!" as he leaps through the doors, despite being the first kid to set foot on it.

Having thoroughly failed their Don't Get In A Stranger's Car check, they take a moment investigating the trolley. Taichi and Koushiro confirm that nobody's here. Taichi's extremely bothered by this whole thing. Jou agrees, wondering aloud if the trolley's going to start moving by itself, but Taichi waves him off; There aren't any tracks for the trolley to go down.

Dub Tai agrees with Joe, but thinks it might actually be good if the trolley suddenly kidnaps them all. It might take them home. Dub Tai somehow manages to be worse at Stranger Danger than any of the Japanese crew. To be fair, he's not alone; Dub Mimi said that too.

Well, it's decided. We'll sleep in the trolley tonight. Just like that, the group sets to work on foraging for food and supplies. Last episode, the Digimon said they're good at foraging; Now they get to show off their skills, gathering various fruits and berries. Mimi tries to help, but Palmon stops her from accidentally picking poisonous mushrooms.

Jou and Sora gather firewood while Koushiro and Takeru catch fish to cook. Taichi and Yamato prepare the fire and just like that, we're camping.

When he sees Takeru struggling with figuring out how to eat a whole fish like this, Yamato offers to de-bone it for him. Taichi interrupts and tells Takeru to just start at the head and bite; Takeru accepts that advice and gives it a try.

In the dub, T.K. complains that his mom wouldn't like this. He's only supposed to eat fish sticks, and he's not supposed to eat with his fingers. Matt assures T.K. that he won't tattle, and Tai chimes in to tell him he's "hanging with the big boys now" which seems to settle his nerves.

From there, Taichi approaches Sora, who's filling up a bamboo shaft with water from the lake. He's noticed that Takeru refers to Yamato as "Onii-chan" and he's curious about it. Sora's as lost as he is about it.

Dub Tai already gets that Matt and T.K. are brothers, and instead complains that Matt "doesn't treat T.K. like a brother, only like he's a bother." Rude. Sora agrees, but suggests he's still learning how to be a big brother.

Jou returns from having a short walk around, stargazing. He's been trying to use the night sky to figure out where the hell File Island is, but the sky is wrong. Not just wrong for Japan; It's just wrong. Neither the North Star nor the Southern Cross can be found. So we are neither in the Northern Hemisphere nor the Southern. What does that leave?

Sora quickly corroborates, observing that she can't find any familiar constellations either.

Dub Joe is less thorough than Jou. He doesn't look for the Southern Cross, instead settling on the idea that we must be in the Southern Hemisphere if he can't find the North Star. Mystery solved.

Before long, it's officially time for bed. Time to spend our first night on File Island. Koushiro wants to establish a night watch rotation, which Taichi and Jou quickly agree to.

Taichi suggests that the girls shouldn't have to keep watch. Upon hearing this, Yamato jumps to his feet to demand that Takeru be excluded too. Takeru volunteers to take a turn anyway, but Yamato tells him no; Takeru should just sleep.

The dub cuts Tai's line about wanting Sora and Mimi excluded from the rotation, which leaves Matt issuing demands on T.K.'s behalf out of nowhere. This still works for the scene's intent.

Mimi points out that they have no bedding to sleep with. Getting an idea, Taichi goes straight for Gabumon, trying to steal his pelt away from him. He's only playing around, and he lets go as soon as Gabumon freaks out and runs.

Dub Tai somehow makes this about Mimi, playing her up like a predator in the night who's going to come for Gabumon in the night and cut off his tail.

Yamato angrily shoves Taichi away from Gabumon and the two nearly come to blows before the others tell them to quit it. Jou interrupts, calling the group's attention together so they can set up the shifts. With Sora, Mimi, and Takeru all excluded, the rotation he comes up with is:

Taichi

Yamato

Koushiro

Jou

Sora and Mimi remain excluded from the list even in the dub, so I guess Joe's the sexist one in this version. :P

As the kids prepare for bed in the trolley, they proceed to make unbelievably poor use of all that seating area. Everyone has to sleep in a sitting position but like there is so much space y'all.

Mimi's upset because she's used to sleeping in a bed. Dub Mimi instead is mad that she has to share sleeping space with other people. Rude.

Going to bed, we're made privy to each of their last thoughts as they drift off. Sora hopes they aren't attacked in the night. Mimi wants to take a bath. Koushiro expects it will be a long day for the group tomorrow. Jou wants this all to have been a dream.

In the dub, T.K. bids everyone good night with, "Don't let the Monochromon bite," giving Sora a specific monster anxiety to worry about. Mimi's feet are still sore. Izzy speculates that the aliens he's still on about put the trolley here to help them. Joe worries about getting "monster cooties", actual quote.

Yamato's staked out his own bench to rest on. He orders Gabumon to go keep Takeru warm. Gabumon teases him about loving his brother and Yamato storms off in a fit of embarrassment.

As the group drifts off to sleep, things start to go to shit almost immediately. The other shoe finally begins to drop during Taichi's shift, as he steps on a strange red leaf on his way to wash his face. Nothing comes of it, however. Not yet.

While Taichi's washing his face to stay awake during his shift, Yamato exits the trolley to get away from everyone. He apologizes to Taichi for their earlier fight, and confides that Takeru's closer to Taichi than to him because of his overprotective behavior; Calling back to the earlier incident with the cooked fish.

Dub Matt, meanwhile, continues being a total jerk. He still apologizes but, rather than opening up about his feelings, Matt aggressively blames "having to watch T.K." for his behavior. Nice, bro.

Taichi asks Yamato to explain the nature of their relationship for him. Yamato explains that they're brothers from a broken home; Their parents divorced and the brothers were split between them, which is why they have different last names.

The dub hasn't been playing coy about this the way the original did, so Tai instead has to ask, "Do you two even live in the same house!?" out of nowhere to provoke Matt's explanation. Matt answers that they're half-brothers so that's why they see each other so rarely.

Having had his fill of emotional honesty, Yamato splits with Taichi and goes to play his harmonica by the lake shore. He's shortly joined by Gabumon, doing a startlingly poor job of being Takeru's blanket.

That's when it happens.

Okay, fucko, I can handle being stepped on but that is a bridge too far. Local wildlife mad now.

I blame Taichi for this. 100%. That fin wasn't exactly hard to spot.

This is the Adult-stage Seadramon, the first of a particular kind of Digimon. The "dramon" lineage is a pun on the word "dragon". Any time you meet a -dramon, that's a dragon Digimon. Seadramon is, of course, the Sea Dragon Digimon.

Seadramon honestly wants nothing to do with this. His first reaction to his rude awakening is to try and peace out. Unfortunately, his tail is embedded in the island, so he ends up dragging it around with him.

Tentomon explains that Seadramon is normally pretty docile. He only attacks if he feels threatened. As long as we haven't threatened him, we should be fine. As Tentomon says this, he hops directly onto Seadramon's tail like an idiot.

Really playing up how much this impending fight is absolutely, 100% our fault. We screwed up. Seadramon is trying to defend himself against us.

This context doesn't make it into the dub. Instead, Tentomon assures the others that they'll be fine as long as Seadramon doesn't realize they're here; However, by stepping on Seadramon's tail like that, he reveals their presence to the dangerous predator.

Wrenching his tail free of the island, Seadramon retaliates by submerging himself and pushing the island further out into the lake until it collides with those telephone poles we saw earlier and can't budge any further.

Seeing Takeru in trouble, Yamato doesn't even hesitate to throw himself in the water and swim halfway across the dragon-occupied lake to reach his brother. Gabumon hesitates for a moment, not wanting to get his fur wet, but pursues Yamato anyway.

As Seadraman renews his assault on the island, the Child-stage Digimon try to fend him off, but their attacks are useless against an Adult-stage Digimon as usual. Taichi tries to get Agumon to evolve, but he can't; Agumon doesn't know why. As previously established, the Digimon don't understand this whole thing any better than the kids do.

Dub Agumon is lost too, but at least offers speculation. He thinks his body might still be tired from his fight with Shellmon. Valid theory.

Takeru falls in the water trying to get to Yamato, but Gomamon gives him a ride. Trusting Gomamon to take care of Takeru, Yamato and Gabumon throw themselves into the Seadramon fight.

Gabumon's signature move is Petit Fire. Like Baby Flame, this conveys the idea that it's a junior attack fitting of a Child-stage Digimon. The dub calls it Blue Blaster. Like the other Child attacks, Petit Fire is useless against Seadramon, who flicks Gabumon away with little difficulty.

Wrapping his tail around Yamato, Seadramon goes in for the kill.

The dub uses careful language to avoid explicitly saying that Seadramon is going to kill Matt, but nonetheless conveys the same idea. Tentomon calls Seadramon a "bubble brain" but explains that "once he finds his prey, he won't let go".

Takeru, Patamon, and Gabumon briefly discuss what they can do. Takeru wants Patamon to help, but Patamon is powerless so he turns to Gabumon. Gabumon's hesitation strikes again; He wants to help Yamato but he isn't strong enough to intervene.

However, as he watches Seadramon choke the life out of Yamato, Gabumon thinks about his harmonica music and how much he wants to hear it again. He dwells on that music and how badly he wants to hear Yamato play, then lets out a bloodcurdling scream and begins his Adult-stage evolution.

None of this emotional conflict makes it into the dub. English Gabumon agrees to go save Matt immediately, calling out that he's on his way and assertively saying, "What's a little stinky fur compared to a friend like him?"

Either way, Gabumon SHINKAAAAAA!!!

Gabumon's Adult-stage is Garurumon, another onomatopoeia name. He's named for the sound of a wolf growling. "Garururururu...."

While Garurumon and Seadramon fight, Tentomon explains that Garurumon's fur is as strong as the legendary metal mythril. The kids don't know what that is, so Koushiro asks for clarification. This puts Tentomon on the spot, who has to admit that he doesn't know what mythril is either. Taichi wonders aloud if they should really be trusting Tentomon's word when he's explaining the Digimon lore.

Dub Tentomon only equates Garurumon's fur to steel, and adds that he's a "growling torpedo". Izzy understands what that means and declares Garurumon to be invincible, forcing Tentomon to backpedal and say it's only local heresay, nothing concrete. Tai then accuses him of "exaggerating with another one of your wild fish tales again". Uh, another?

For once, we get some focus on the antagonist's special moves too. Seadramon is a wild animal so he doesn't talk, but Tentomon explains this to be his signature move Ice Arrow. Fitting for a sea dragon, he has frost breath.

Garurumon matches it with his Fox Fire. The dub calls this Howling Blaster.

Y'all, he just wanted to sleep.

Gomamon's Marching Fishes bring us back to land, but the sun comes up and nobody's rested. Exhausted, conversation turns to Gabumon's evolution.

Sora suggests that Gabumon was able to evolve this time because it was Yamato in danger. Taichi remembers Agumon evolving to protect him and corroborates that theory. The kids are beginning to develop an understanding of how evolution functions.

Once that's settled, the kids find spaces in the grass to snooze; Everyone's too tired to even care anymore where they rest their heads.

We close this episode on Yamato playing Takeru and Gabumon to sleep.

...I guess technically it is his turn to take watch.

[unreadpoppy]

song as old as rhyme - chapter 7

{Beauty and the Beast AU - Raphael x OC (Elize)}

chapter 6

Read on AO3

Taglist: @littlemoondarling @desenhosdebolso

A/N: I'm so tired rn but I'm glad I've finished it. Honestly, I hope the chapter turned out good cause i've been preparing myself mentally to write it for a long time. Also I might be straying a bit away from the plot of B&tB but I personally don't mind it much.

Elize had closed her eyes when they were engulfed in smoke. Now opening them, she noticed two things.

The first one was that she was in a room she had never seen before. The place was big, bigger than her own house and there were big red curtains everywhere. There was a chandelier and a huge painting of a devil above a fireplace. Finally, she noticed a circular dinner table was set, with at least eight chairs in it. The food, by the smell of it, seemed to be rotting away. 

The second thing Elize noticed was the absence of her father. She turned around and Raphael was on the far side of the room, in front of the fireplace. He had shed his human skin, now looking like the devil in the picture. 

Elize took a deep breath. Whatever happened next, she needed to keep herself calm and stand her ground. 

“Where is he?” She asked. 

“Safe, in the comfort of his home.” Raphael replied. “Now, about the deal-” 

“Before you do so” She interrupted him abruptly, which made him clench his jaw. “I need to know what my father had agreed to.” She looked down, when finishing the phrase. 

He raised an eyebrow. “And why do you require that? This deal is between you and I, only.” 

“I’m aware, however” She raised her head, looking him in the eye.”If I am to take his place, I should know what he did to begin with.” She remembered an old advice Mr. Antoine had given her. “After all, transparency is key.” 

While Elize said all that, she was holding her hands in front of her, using all of her strength to not bite on her nails. 

Raphael thought for a moment. “Very well.” He snapped his fingers and a contract, with Audifax’s signature at the bottom, appeared in front of her. She held it and while she read, the devil walked towards her. “Your dear old father arrived at my Devil’s Den, talking about how he needed money to survive.” 

Without realizing, Elize had begun to slowly walk around the room while she read. 

“I, in my great generosity, of course, decided to lend him some of my fortune.” She broke away from the contract to look at him, brows furrowed. “All he needed to do was to pay me back within seven days.”

“And how would he do so?”

Raphael’s lips slightly turned upward. “Easy. Near Sharess Caress there is a gambling house.”

She stopped in her tracks, turning around to face him. “So you sent him there, to make him lose all his money?” She asked in an accusatory tone. 

“Of course not!” He opened his arms. “I send him there to make even more golden pieces! He could have tripled what I gave him!” His brows furrowed. “But what does the man do instead? He spends every single gold I gave him.”

Elize got to the part of the contract where it said how much money was lent and what was to happen if Raphael didn’t get paid his due. 

“Ten thousand gold pieces…” The girl whispered to herself, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “He should have told me what he was going to do.” Elize mentally cursed her father. She knew Audifax wasn’t the greatest with money, especially after her mother went away, and now, he had made both of their situations worse. 

“What he should or should not have done matters little.” Raphael said. “In the end, he dug his own grave.” He snapped away the contract, looking at Elize. “Or better, he dug your grave.”

Elize sighed. “So this is it.” She said in a tired voice. “What are your terms?” 

Raphael raised an eyebrow. “Straight to the point now, are we?” He remarked.

He snapped his fingers and a clean scroll and quill appeared midair. The quill moved on its own, writing down what Raphael said. 

At this point, he was slowly walking around, circling her like a predator would. 

“You are to stay here, in the House of Hope, ready for whenever I need you.” He stopped momentarily, while she nodded in understanding. “ You are not allowed a foot out of the house without my expressed permission. You may refer to me by name in front of others, but in my presence you will call me either sir or master.” 

Elize rolled her eyes at that. Thankfully, he was behind her and didn’t notice. 

He continued on with more and more terms, all of which Elize chose not to comment on. Better to just agree then make her time here worse.

“Finally, fail in any way and you will be punished accordingly.” He stopped, a few feet away from Elize. “Any questions?” Raphael asked. 

“How long will I be here for?” 

“As I said before, forever.” He answered. Elize quickly realized he had meant when they were in the woods.

“No.” 

“No?” Raphael repeated, raising one eyebrow. 

Elize closed her eyes and took a steady breath, trying to remember the things she had read in Antoine’s book about devilish contracts. 

She couldn’t falter now. “You said that before drafting anything. It was a spoken agreement, yes, but on paper, it holds little to no value.” She practically blurted out, not looking at him directly. “Due to that, the matter of time can still be agreed upon, especially considering that up until now-” she sent her gaze towards him. “I have not made any objections.” 

Raphael slightly squinted his eyes. Maybe the girl was as smart as her father had claimed. 

“You make a compelling argument.” He replied after a long pause. “Instead of eternity, you will spend a day for every coin that your father owns me.” 

Elize, knowing she wouldn’t be able to receive much better, reluctantly nodded her head. 

‘Maybe ten thousand days would pass by faster than what they sound like’ she tried to reason with herself. 

The quill had finally stopped moving and the scroll, now filled with words, was pressed towards her. Taking the quill in her right hand, she signed her name.

[dragonoflavender]

„ And whom might you be..? Step forward, please..~!”

Noël;

- Noël is an elemental dragon of the hydro element; she bears a striking resemblance to Neuvillette but they are nothing alike. While Noël is an Elemental Dragon, she is not the Sovereign, and honestly could not even compare. She is an elemental being like any other, simply having manifested into the form of a dragon

- Despite this, there are many visible similarities; hair color, eyes and the shape of them, they both have a taller height (Noël is 5'11"/180 cm) and a typically serious expression worn

- Her horns, another thing which is strikingly similar to Neuvillette, are more violet in color rather than blue; but her hydro abilities are the typical blue

- Personality wise, Noël has spent a lot of time mingling with all sorts of peoples, so while she is serious, she is easygoing at the same time, and good at having conversations with due to her nonjudgmental nature and greater knowledge - she is sociable but not without her worries, and unlike Neuvillette, she can preform a speech or stand in the spotlight, but simply... prefers not to. She has a dry sense of humor and uses sarcasm with closer people who she knows will not get offended, but typically with strangers and acquaintances, she is polite and easygoing. She cares not about the stares of others, or how others look themselves, and she does not get offended easily.

- She becomes surprisingly silly under stressful situations, though, laughing and joking a lot - probably to reassure both herself and those around her

- Noël is an early bird, and spends her mornings taking walks in the forests or along the beaches before heading off to work; she enjoys the various sights and smells, and even after so many centuries, she can never get enough of them

- She manifested completely as a draconic human around 2 centuries after Furina "Ascended" and Neuvillette joined humanity, so she bore witness to all of the events leading up, but did not have a body or voice herself.

- At first, her presence was quite unwelcome but if Neuvillette could fit in, then so could she; and it only took about a couple of decades for the charismatic, charming dragon to fit right in

- She leans both ways, but slightly more towards women; she tends to very accidentally flirt sometimes, without even realizing it, which is both a blessing and a curse at times.

- she knows of the oceanids, and of Focalors, since she had been watching for so many centuries, manifesting and manifesting..

- she was a bit spooked by Neuvillette at first because she feared her presence would be unwelcome, or declined, but they get along quite well; sometimes she comes to his office to assist in his work, being quite familiar with it, and sometimes she tells him to rest or get some sleep while she does it

- She also wanted to avoid Furina at first too, thinking that their personalities would clash in all of the wrong ways possible, but over time their brief meetings turned more proper as she and Furina got along; sometimes they do silly pranks together, usually with Noël slipping away near the end so that she wouldn't be seen doing it (the traitor)

- With Focalors, it is... complicated; the only place she had a voice before her formation was in realms such as Focalors' limbo; she'd visit at times - this didn't get in the way of the ultimate plan, luckily, as Noël didn't have a solid form quite yet

(I will add more if I think of it; thank you for reading if you got this far! I look forward to roleplaying! ^^)

(Ref image; will add a better one when I have the time!)

[stclenrelic]

@cptnrgers continued from here!

☆      Steve’s cleaning up the counter, but every few seconds he looks up to watch Loki. There’s an expression on her face he can’t quite decipher, but once he decides it’s probably not a negative one, Steve goes back to putting away the used ingredients and wiping down the countertop.

“Just fill ‘em to the brim. They will complain if it’s less than full. Not even you being a gorgeous unicorn is gonna help with that,” Steve says with a smirk. He spends the next ten minutes watching Loki as she distributes the peanuts into the bowls and then hands them out to the locals. He can’t quite describe why, but somehow it’s immensely reassuring to see her interact with the regular customers. They’re laughing, talking, and there’s even a few more attempts to hit on Loki which she easily dodges or nicely stops. She fits in, Steve realizes, even though it’s a ridiculous thought. It’s unlikely she’ll ever visit this place again.

By the time Loki returns to the bar, Steve disappeared to grab the nachos from oven and add the final touches; sour cream, finely chopped spring union, and homemade salsa and guacamole. The dish is still steaming when he places it on the counter in front of Loki. He grins. “Time for a break, huh? I think you earned this.”

“Really? You don’t think they’d go easy on me if I’d throw them a fake giggle and apologize saying it is my first time doing this? Because that usually works.” She muses. However, she does as she is told to do and begins filling the bowls until she literally can’t fit any more in.

Once she’s filled them up, she gets up to divide them over the tables. Without Steve having to ask her too. Really, he’s busy making her food and she’s not stupid. She can guess what needs to be done with them. And while she honestly expected to hate flirting right now, she actually doesn’t mind it. It’s a very different kind of flirting from the kind she’s used to at the bars and clubs Preston liked to visit. It felt lighthearted and casual, not creepy and nasty. Though, of course, she isn’t interested in them and kindly reminds them that she’s actually got a boyfriend. Loki notices how the men glance at Steve when she says that, but she doesn’t comment on it. They can think whatever the hell they want to think. And secretly.. maybe she doesn’t hate the fact that they think she’s with Steve. She may have only just met the guy but she already likes him a lot more than she does Preston, and she’s dating him, right? 

She gets back after finishing her ‘work’ and sits down in front of Steve, sipping her wine again until Steve gets back with the nachos. And truth be told  ---  they look absolutely delicious. Almost as delicious as the chef.  “That smells and looks really fucking amazing.” Not the way she would dare to talk at home or near Preston, but she isn’t at home or near Preston. A newfound freedom that she would be very reluctant to abandon in the near future. But alas, things don’t always go the way she wants them to.

[imdoingwhateverisnext]

The Desperation

It is a scent that predators love and "normal" people avoid because it smells really bad. Notice how it feels when a person that you are not interested in is saying anything, nearly begging for a date or even a moment of your time. Yesterday I put myself in the shoes of that desperate person. Not intentionally, but I caught myself doing it.

My oldest son is married. When he calls me (rarely), he doesn't talk for long. It isn't personal, it is just the way he is. He isn't a big phone talker. When he visits me, he rarely stays longer than 30 min or an hour tops. Even on special occasions. Again, it isn't personal. Yet I heard myself on the phone after 20 minutes of conversation, trying to extend the time I could talk to him. Asking questions, being overly chatty. I invited him and my daughter-in-law over for a movie or game night. I love her like she is my own as well. I asked if I could cook for them. I listed all of the dishes I had that I could make, trying to appeal to any level of cheapness or laziness by offering him basically whatever meal he wanted with no clean up requirements. He kept putting me off and declined my offer to cook for and entertain them. I could tell he was politely trying to get off the phone, so I relented. I left the door open if he were to change his mind and want to come over later (I could always hope). When we hung up, I thought to myself, 'I wouldn't want to come hang out with a pathetic loser like myself either!" Very sad.

Even writing this, I can feel how pitiful it is. I gave birth to these people. I shared my own internal organs as living space (rent free). Oh and believe me, they would not have gotten their deposits back had I charged them. They did not leave the place looking as nice as it did before they moved in. I have never tried this hard for a friendship or a date, not ever! I wouldn't dare! I have dignity! Yeah right. I used to have dignity. Apparently those days are numbered too. I can't wait to see how it feels when I am dumped at a nursing home and never have visitors. I guess I should prepare myself for that seemingly inevitable outcome.

If I wasn't yet certain of my situation or standing, I had two more opportunities on the same day to prove just how pathetic I had become. My other son, who is 18, and my daughter, 16, would be my next two chances to redeem myself.

My daughter disappears downstairs into the 'dungeon' soon after she comes home. I try to get her to stay upstairs with me for as long as I can. It is a futile effort. I often can bribe her with chocolate, or a ride somewhere she wants to go. Again offering to cook something, go pick up take out, or watch a movie together (even one I know she will like and I won't). This was the level of desperation I had reached. I knew my odds were not good, but I was pulling out some of my best work. Ultimately my pleas ended as I sadly watched her disappear down the stairs to her room. "I love you Mom. Goodnight". She says as I hear her door close.

"I love you too baby girl".

My 18 year old will usually spend 20-30 minutes at a time with me. If I press the issue, I can force more time, but if I do, it isn't mutually fun or even pleasant. I worked so much as they grew up. I missed out on so many important things...just so I could work, earn money, and destroy my knees and psyche. Since my near death experience I can honestly say that the words, "I wish I could have worked more" didn't enter my mind. Now it is too late, and my desperation is becoming clearer.

I can't buy their affection because I had been disabled and out of work for a while. Now I want to take in every last moment of time they will allow me to spend with them, no matter how brief or fleeting. There may never be another chance.

Oh My God...What have I become?! I am a beggar. I beg for my children's affection and their time. and like the Cat's in the Cradle song, it is already too late. My heart is broken and my nest is almost empty. Every day is like a countdown toward the end of my time with the best 3 things I have ever taken part in.

I am a desperate loser. I admit it. My kids are too cool to hang out with me and I fucked up my entire life and their childhoods by working all of the time. I can never get that time back.

I would be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit upset about all of the hours of work that was required for me to live comfortably, in the same exact way I live now. The main differences are then I had a little extra money to do things and no free time to do them. Now I have free time and no free money. I try to stay positive, but sometimes these feelings grab me in the center of my chest, and it feels like my soul (or what is left of it) is being crushed.

I am not looking for pity or sympathy, I am just trying to maintain what is left of my peace of mind. There is nothing that anyone can do for me or give to me that will give me that time back. I am hoping that eventually if I write about it enough, the feelings will begin to ease, but I am not overly confident.

Today my perfume is sadness sprinkled with hints of regret, in a base scent of uncomfortable desperation. Maybe tomorrow I will wear the glow of confidence, sprinkled with hope for the future, and youthful exuberance.

It could happen.

[occasionaloneshots]

But I Do

Richie Tozier x Fem! Denbrough! Reader

Song Fic -Begin Again (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift

Sequel to Just Between Us

CW: Alchol/drinking mention, Bitter ex boyfriend, Siblings arguing, Richie and Bill arguing, small age gap, fluff, language, s*x jokes but not smut, he might be a little ooc but they are baby

Word Count: 8.3K

Turn the lock and put my headphones on He always said he didn't get this song

(Y/n)'s headphones were tight on her head from the moment she left her house. Of course she knew that baseball season had to start eventually but that didn't mean she was ready to be there. The girl loved her older brother, if she were to be completely honest with you he was her favorite sibling. But that didn't mean she was happy to watch er ex play his new girl cheering him on from the stands. His jersey number painted on her cheek where (Y/n) wished it was on hers. She was over him, at least she thought so, but the bitter knowledge that she was never going to be what he truly wanted still sat on her mind. Bill knew that too, offering her an out that she was honestly grateful for, but she felt too guilty taking it. So there she was listening to a mixtape that Angel had made for her as a birthday present. Her radio favorites playing over her ears to distract her from the way the crowd cheered them on, but eve then, the tape had it's own reminders.

She pulls them off for the first time since her arrival as she neared the concessions stand. Ordering a sprite which was promptly placed into her hand, bottle dripping from the cooler, as she handed them the cash for it. She stopped at the other window, grabbing napkins to dry the bottle and her own hands. And before she could the task finished to return to the bubble her headphones provided, she heard her name being called. She thought she imagined it at first before the second call. Turning on her heel to see none other than Richie Tozier who was holding a bright red can and giving her that smile she'd known her whole life. They hadn't talked since before her birthday, and hadn't seen each other since the day of it, though they all knew the day hadn't gone to plan. That was three months ago at this point, and sure she'd wave if the losers were near by, but outside of Bev and Mike, (Y/n) made sure to stay clear of Bill's friends. Maybe it was cruel but she could find it in her to blame Richie and Eddie for her birthday drama, even if Richie did attempt to apologize. But it somehow made her feel better to blame them just as much as she blamed Stan. It should be all on Stanley, she knew that, but to have someone to blame made her feel better.

"Richie, hey," she forces the smile, knowing he was too close to her for her to get out of this. "God, Denbrough, where have you been? I haven't seen you in forever," he wraps an arm around her and she can't stop herself from leaning into his touch. It's not like Richie was ever as close to her as Stan used to be, but she'd be a liar if she said that Richie didn't feel safe. It made that guilt of ignoring him bubble to the surface. He was a forgetful guy, maybe he just genuinely forgot her sixteenth. And he came over to apologize on her actual birthday, spending damn near the whole day with her, that's something Stan couldn't say. Maybe she could recognize that she was the bad guy there. Or maybe se was blinded by home much she'd missed the smell of his cologne and the way he ruffled her hair as he walked past her. She couldn't tell you which it was if she tried.

"Yeah, yeah, it's been a while. I was just trying to give the losers space I guess, you know after everything. I just didn't want to strain the group anymore than I already did." He scoffs shaking his head, "You didn't strain it, Stan did. You here alone or did you finally drag Angel to a game?" She shakes her head, nervously sipping her drink before she could respond. "Neither, I'm here with Georgie and our parents. Gotta cheer Bill on, you know." He nods, arm still around her shoulder as if she'd float away when he moved, "Well, then I think you should come join the club. We do miss you, Dollface, you have to know that somewhere in that stone little heart of yours." She ignores the nickname, nodding softly as she closes the bottle she's holding, "Yeah, I need to go ask my parents though, they've been weird about things since, well you know."

He didn't leave the younger girl's side as they made their way to the bleachers where her parents were sitting. Not even allowing his arm to fall from her as they made their way up the bleachers. And (Y/n) may have forgotten that he did it but her parents sure noticed it. "Hey, Richie asked if I could join him and Bill's other friends. Is that okay?" They both caught it as Mrs. Denbrough looked past the duo to nervously eye the field. "Please Mrs. Denbrough, your son has been hiding her from us for months and Eddie and I are really starting to miss her." (Y/n) catches out of the corner of her eye how Richie bats his lashes, earning him an elbow to the ribs. "Well I don't know," she starts, looking over the way that yet another of her son's friends was hanging onto her daughter. "Please Ma'am? Don't tell Bill but we kinda like her more than him." She opens her mouth to respond and (Y/n) can almost feel herself deflate as she waits for the no to escape her mom's lips. She didn't realize how much she missed the losers until she realized that ignoring them may not be her choice anymore.

"Mommy," Georgie cuts in, once again attempting to be his sister's saving grace, "He's on the field with Bill, let her go see Bev and Richie." The older woman sighs, looking up to Richie, "Beverly is there?" "Yes Ma'am," he doesn't miss a beat, obviously looking more hopeful. "Then you can go, but stay with Beverly." She didn't expect to smile so wide as she turned to look at Richie whose face just mimicked hers. "Let's go, Denbrough!" She laughs, calling a "thank you" to her mom and mouthing one to her little brother. Who both send her a smile in response as they watch her make her way down the bleachers, Richie now trailing closely behind. "So, Dollface," his voice picks back up as they walk away from her family, "There's no ignoring me now. So how have you been?" She shakes her head, "The real question is, why were you just flirting with my mom? Stan with me, Bev with Bill, you with my mom? You're all trying to get in with the Denbroughs huh? Is there a bet I wasn't told about?" He rolls his eyes, bothered by the way she doges the question, "Oh of course. Eds though, he's going for your dad, you better hide him." "I'll keep that in mind," she giggles, starting up the bleachers where she could see the familiar look of Bev and Mike.

"I'm serious, (Y/n), how are you?" Her lip finds it's way between her lips stopping momentarily as his arm finds it's way back around her. "I'm getting better, I think I'm finding my old self again." He smiles, reaching over to ruffle her hair, "Good, because I missed you." She smiles up at him, nearly to the top of the bleachers, "I missed you too, Tozier." "Of course you did, I'm obviously your favorite loser." "Well," she drags it out, "You're definitely a loser. My favorite though? That's Bev without a doubt. You're second out of my brother's friends though." "Second? You met me before Bev." "Yeah, and I met Eddie first, what's your point?" "Well duh Eddie isn't your favorite, but why is Bev the favorite?" "She never cut my hair while I was sleeping," the girl shrugs, going ahead as she catches Bev's attention. "That was one time twelve years ago, let it go!" "What was twelve years ago-Oh my God, (Y/n)! I didn't know you were here," Mike is out of his seat to hug her before she can even reach the redhead she was walking to. "I wouldn't miss one of Bill's games." Bev pulls her away from Mike and down into a seat beside her before the boy can respond. "Yeah she is, and she was telling me about how Bev is her favorite because you never cut her hair when she was four." Bev's nose scrunches up, "Who cut your hair when you were four?" She just a thumb in Richie's direction as he steals the last seat beside her. "Richie! And then he tried to blame it on me, can you believe that?" Eddie huffs, patting the younger girl's knee as a silent hello. "So you've always been you, huh Trashmouth?" "I think it's what makes him so comforting," (Y/n) laughs over to Bev. Letting a smile settle on her face as the senior rested her head on her shoulder. The girl barely felt the way her headphones slipped off her neck as Richie put them on. He pulls them around his own neck as he turns to her. "I love this song, I didn't realize you even knew James Taylor." She turns to him, hearing the chorus of "Her Town Too" playing softly from around Richie's neck. "Yeah, Dad got me into him. I love that song. It's just, relatable I guess." He nods, "Yeah, it's sorta comforting. I don't know, I know it's not meant for me, but," his words die off, looking into her eyes, the way the sparkled at his words. "Yeah, but I think if you can find comfort in it that's what matters. Art comforts the disturbed or whatever it is that Wiggins is always saying." She bites her lip, not that she notices. Too caught up in the differences between the two best friends that she would have never noticed. Stan hated that song, he said he just didn't get it. It got turned off every time it came on. Not Richie though, he was slipping it back over his ears with a soft wink, turning up the volume. And unknown to her, he noticed the way she bit her lip as if she feared she'd said something wrong. But then again he noticed a lot of things that she'd never know. Like the way she'd completely ignore the existence of the losers club if Stan was there, but if he wasn't she'd wave to them on her walk to the stairs. Or how she bought a new record every paycheck even though most people were into cassettes or CDs now. It was always at the music store he worked at, the only one in Derry, and she'd pretend she didn't see him, even if he knew she did. God was he glad she didn't do that this time. Richie missed her, with every fiber in his being he missed the presence of the girl. He knew he'd never fully get over the guilt of missing her sweet sixteen. But she was there now, and he could thank himself for that.

Soon enough he was slipping one ear out of her headphones, and the three got lost in their own conversation. Richie and Bev seeming to make it their mission to keep (Y/n) laughing, and she had to be honest, she couldn't remember the last time shed laughed that hard. They didn't even realize the game was over until Bill and Stan were standing over them. He felt bad, knowing he'd have to end the conversation. When was the last time he saw his sister seem this care free and happy? And with his friends no less.

Luckily he didn't have to though, (Y/n) seeming to sense him standing there. "Billy! Hey look who found me," she smiles, leaning over onto Richie as she takes her headphones back. Bill fights the questioning look he wants to send Richie, but from the way Richie looks past him and raises an eyebrow, Stan didn't seem to. "Thanks for keeping her company, guys. (Y/n), you ready?" She pouts slightly, something that the three seniors watching her didn't miss as she stood up. "Yeah, I'll see you guys around right?" Richie nods, grabbing her hand for a second, "Don't be a stranger, okay?" " Yeah," she nods making her way to Bill, "Promise." And with that, Bill wrapped an arm around his sister and decided to lead her away before anyone else could say something to her. And she was thankful for that as she passed Stan, nearly clinging to her brother in hopes it would make the other boy disappear. But she barely felt that sense of bitterness that she was used to when she passed him. And for the first time since New Years Day, he didn't try to talk to her. To (Y/n)'s surprise, the first game day of the season was the best one she's had in a while.

I walked in, expecting you'd be late But you got here early and you stand and wave

She didn't learn her lesson. At least that's what Beverly and her own friends told her when they found out her plans for today. She knows she should leave her brother's friends alone, but it's Richie. Got in a fight on the playground over her when they were little kids, Richie. And it's not like she was expecting much from it, just a few laughs over a milkshake. And he'd probably be late, Richie was always late, it made her question how he and Stan were best friends. Truly each other's opposite, then again she was always more like Richie anyhow.

The bell above the door was a comforting sound as she entered the diner. When was the last time she even came in here? January?

"Oh no, I'm actually waiting on someone. She's going to want to pick the table, you know how it is." The voice caught her off guard, seeing Richie stand near the counter, talking to who she swore was Stanley. "You sure that she didn't stand you up? I mean, you're always late and she's not here." It was definitely Stanley and it filled her with nerves. Would he tell Bill? Would he cause a scene? The last thing she wanted was to cause more problems for Bill. Richie seems to take Stan's words to heart, nervously looking around the room for (Y/n), "No, I actually made a point to be early. She's been through a lot in the past few- there she is. Hey, Dollface!" (Y/n) makes her way to his side, swallowing her nerves, "Hey, Rich."

She could see Stan's clenched jaw in the corner of her eye as Richie pulls her into a hug, she couldn't help but hug back. "You wanna pick out the table?" She pulls away, looking around the room for a table. She sees that the table by the jukebox was open, that was always her place with her friends. She nods to it, grabbing Richie's hand, "That one." "I should have known," he teases, walking with her to the little booth. Their hands fall from each other's taking seats across from each other. He was more nervous than she'd ever seen him. "Sorry by the way, I uh, I didn't know that Stan was working today. I would have picked somewhere else if-" "It's okay, Rich, really. We should just focus on us, yeah?" He nods, reaching for her hand across the table, "Yeah, so, do you wanna share a milkshake like a silly little couple in the fifties? It could be fun." She giggles, drawing circles on his hand, "Of course, not chocolate though." "Yeah, yeah, chocolate ice cream tastes like chemicals and not chocolate. Do you want fries?"

She nods, slightly shocked that he remembered something like that. When is the last time she said that? When she was twelve? "You want strawberry?" She nods, biting her lip as she looks at him. "Then I'll be right back, I'm going to order at the counter so we don't have to wait." "Yeah, that's cool," she nods, dropping the boy's hand to let him stand up. She didn't know where her new shift came from, she'd never felt that nervous around Richie, but then again she'd never seen him act like this around her either. And of course, she'd never been on a date with Richie before. And having Stan near them for it, maybe she was just scared that this would be the same way that they were. God, maybe her friends were right. She couldn't be the girl who got her heart broken by two of her brother's friends. How embarrassing is that?

"Yes Stan, one milkshake with two straws," Richie's voice is carrying through the room now, and he was obviously annoyed. She turns her head, attempting to catch more of the conversation. Stan's voice didn't carry the way Richie's did , but his jaw was still clenched and the corners of his eyes were wrinkling, staring the boy down. "We are on a date, yeah, is that not allowed?" She wraps her arms around herself as she catches Stan stealing glances of her. "Oh yeah? I'm sure your girlfriend would be so interested to know how upset you're getting about your ex dating again. Especially when you were the one who broke up with her over the phone." Things are obviously getting heated between the friends as (Y/n) decides to get up, finding her way behind Richie. Her arms find their way around his waist, head leaning against his back, "Everything okay, baby?" Her voice isn't as loud as Richie's but she can tell Stan can hear her. "Yep, everything is just fine. Your order will be out soon." "Yeah," he turns around in the girl's arms stroking her back, "Let's go sit back down, yeah?" Her arms fall from around him as she nods, letting him grab her hand. She intertwines their fingers, swinging their arms slightly as they walk to their seat. "I'm sorry," her voice is soft but he catches it. "You didn't do anything wrong." "But-" He shakes his head, "Not a damn thing."

Richie drops her hand for just long enough to sit down, taking it back over the table. "So, (Y/n), I have a question." She sends him a smirk, "You know how to form those? I thought they might be too hard for you." He scoffs, rolling his eyes at her, "Well if you're going to be mean I will keep it to myself." She finds herself rubbing his hand with her thumb again, "No, ask me. I was playing around." He tries to act annoyed but it broke as he smiles at her, "Well, I was wondering if any seniors, or juniors I guess, had asked you to prom?" It caught her off guard, why would he want to ask that? She hated to admit it but Richie was hot, most of her brother's friends had been treated well by puberty, but Richie, he could definitely get who ever he wanted. So why (Y/n)? "No, no one has. Why?" He smiles, looking down at the way her thumb was still moving on his hand before looking back up, "Would you want to go? Maybe with your favorite senior?" She tilts her head, giving him a soft smile, "Depends." "Depends on what?" He looked nervous and it made her smile. "Well, what would I have to do to get you into a purple tie?" He raises his eyebrows, making a face she knew all too well, "Well, I mean." Her nose scrunches, thumb stopping on his hand, "I take it back. I don't want to go if I have to do that." He laughs, thumb now gliding across her hand the way she'd done to him, "I'm kidding, Doll. I'll wear whatever color you'd ask of me." "Well then, I'd love to go." And he pumps a fist in the air laughing softly, "A win for Richard Tozier!" It drags a laugh out of her too, God Richie had missed that sound.

And you throw your head back laughing like a little kid

Mr. and Mrs. Denbrough had gotten used to Richie being at their house if Bill wasn't there. To say they were skeptical about how close their daughter was with the boy would be an understatement, but at the same time, the whole house expected this would happen eventually. And they were okay with it if it meant the house would stay the way it's been. (Y/n) and Richie were constantly laughing, the sound floating out of the living room or the girl's open bedroom door made the house feel alive in a way it hadn't been in months. The two just made sense Mr. Denbrough and Mr. Tozier used to joke about the two of them, but there at sixteen and eighteen, they weren't the little kids they were back then. But still, in ways they were. And everyone in both of there families knew, except for Bill. Even Beverly and Mike knew, but neither has found it in them to tell him. Not that they didn't want him to know, they just wanted to be sure they would actually be something before Bill found out.

But there they were, stretched out across the Denbrough couch, a sitcom rerun playing on the TV as they were wrapped up with each other. (Y/n)'s legs in Richie's lap as her back leans on the armrest. A large hand rests on her knee, rubbing circles on the side of her leg with his thumb while Bill was out at practice. The two and Georgie being the only ones in the house, the younger sitting in their dad's Lazyboy, doing his homework as he watches the show before him. But (Y/n) is too busy watching her boyfriend to pay attention to the show she'd normally watch with her brother. Watching the way that her boyfriend's head falls back onto the back of the couch laughter spilling out of his lips. And she can't help bit wonder if relationships are supposed to feel as easy as she and Richie feel. Did he know how nice it felt to know that he found her funny? Would she ever tell him? Maybe that could be her own little secret, how good she felt when he laughed.

"Rich, it's so not that funny. Should could have, like, I don't know, died or something!" She's laughing too but it's really not that funny. "From paint, Doll?" "The bucket fell on her!" "Well the bucket was empty, wasn't it?" "Well yeah, the paint fell a lot faster than the bucket," maybe it was awful that they were laughing this hard at Greta's mishap, but good God did they think she was awful. She reaches down on her leg, putting her hand on top of his, and as if out of habit, he lefts his other hand fall on top of hers. "Needy," she teases, a smirk stretching across her lips. "Shut up," he doesn't take his hand back from her though. They're too caught up in each other to hear the front door open. "So did you get your pretty purple dress?" "Yeah I did," she smiles over at him, "I can't wait for you to see it. Oh! I got your tie too, remind me to bring it to you before I let you leave." "Can I see it now?" She shakes her head, leaning up to kiss his cheek, "Nope, I want you to be surprised when you see me on prom night." "Boring," he draws it out teasingly but kisses her cheek before she leans back onto the arm of the couch. His soft smiles tells her that he's not actually upset about waiting.

"So, this is who asked you to prom?" Bill's voice catches the attention of the whole room, causing the whole room to look at him like they've been caught in the act. He's visibly upset, looking between the two teens as if wondering if he should be mad at his friend or his sister. "Bill, I assure you this is not what it looks like," Richie starts. (Y/n) untangles herself from Richie, allowing him to get up as he goes to approach Bill. "So you didn't just have your hands all over my little sister?" "No, one was on her hand and one was on her knee. They were very still." "Richie!" If the scenario wasn't so tense she'd be laughing as she yells at him, he know it too as he waves her off. "So, this is funny to you? You're taking advantage of my sister and that's funny to you?" "Woah," Richie's brows raise as he stares at the boy, "Taking advantage of her? We're not fucking, were joking on your couch while your little brother does his homework." "She just went through the worst breakup of her life, with your best friend, and now you're all over her so yeah, you're taking advantage of her, even if you still have your pants on.

"Billy, we were going to tell you, Mom and Dad, as well as Mr. and Mrs. Tozier know." She walks up, putting herself between her boyfriend and brother nervously. Richie instinctively wraps an arm around her, pulling her back slightly. "So you weren't going to tell me?" "We were, we just weren't going to tell you until we were sure we were actually something because we knew you'd be mad." "Well no shit," he rolls his eyes, arms crossing over his chest, "I told my friends that things had to stay platonic with you because I didn't want to see you hurt again. And so you actively sought out Richie? After everything? He saw what happened to you and you both said, wow let me do the exact same thing." "Do not fucking compare me to him," Richie's voice is obviously so upset that his voice is dropping, shoulders stiffening. "And to think, I thought he was lying to make himself look better because there was no way that Richie would do that."

"Do not compare me to him you asshole. I am nothing like him, I don't force her to lie and leave town to be around me. I'm actually proud to have her, I am nothing like him." "Yet who was he with when he never showed to her party?" "Bill," (Y/n) snaps, pushing Richie back slightly. "Go sit down," Bill is looking past her at Richie, jaw clenched in a way that made her nervous. "No." "(Y/n)," he flashes her a look and notices the stone cold look on her face. "William, you look like you want to hit him." "I do." Richie softly tugs her back as the siblings stare at each other. "Kitchen." "No." "William, kitchen, now. Richie, go sit with Georgie." "I don't want to leave you alone when he's like this," Richie dips down to her ear to whisper it. "I can handle Bill, you go sit," she snatches Bill's wrist, dragging him to the kitchen as she leaves her boyfriend's grip.

The eldest Denbrough sibling allowed his sister to drag him into the kitchen, despite the way he was fuming. "William, what the fuck was that?" Bill's mouth hangs open for a second truly shocked, "You're asking me that? Everything that you went through with Stan and you get with another one of my friends?" She rolls her eyes, walking over to lean against the counter, "God, Bill! He's not Stanley. He's Richie, Richard fucking Tozier! The guy who stayed by my side on my birthday for the whole day even though I wouldn't look at or talk to him because he felt guilty for missing my birthday party. Got a black eye from fighting a kid on the playground when he was eight because he fought a kid for being mean to me, Richie! The Richie who drove out to Bangor to pick up Angel and I because I called him crying even though he knew he'd get grounded for it. He's Richie!" Bill opens his mouth to argue but nothing comes out, letting the girl yell at him. "Richie, Bill, the guy who came over every day to make Georgie was okay after he broke his leg. Your childhood friend who always gave us the popsicles that he liked better because so did he. He's not Stanley, Bill."

Bill sighs, dragging his hand through his hair. She was right, of course she was, but he remembered her birthday and the New Years party. He watched her block out everyone for two weeks straight, he doesn't know if she could handle something like that again. Then again, did Richie really have that in him? If he wasn't being shy about it? "He's not Stan, you're right. I'm still not a fan of it though." She forces a smile, "You don't have to, just don't be a dick to him. He's actually a pretty good boyfriend." He raises an eyebrow, "Is he?" She nods, "You should have seen how fired up he got when Stan made a comment about seeing me in the diner." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, there was a whole scene."

You said you nеver met one girl who Had as many James Taylor records as you But I do

She roamed the music store alone, fingers brushing over the shelves. It was basically empty, the only other customer bein an older man who she often saw while she was in there.

"Looking for something specific, pretty girl?" She looks over her shoulder to see Richie standing behind her. "I didn't know you were working tonight!" She's smiling up at him, eyes shining as he presses a kiss to her temple. "You didn't answer my question." "I'm looking for a copy of'(Live)' it's the last one I need for my collection." "I'm so jealous," he whines, leaning over her to look in the crate she's looking in, "I don't have a full collection yet and you just need one more." "Yeah, but you got all of yours yourself and I got a lot of mine from my dad." "So you're saying you're a fake fan." 'Absolutely not, you just gave him more money than me. You're a broker fan." He rolls his eyes, wiping the lens of his glasses on his shirt, "Well wouldn't you be lucky to have a really cool boyfriend who works here? Maybe one who knows that we just got that exact album in with the new shipment that came in today."

She lets out an excited little gasp, turning to wrap her arms around his torso, "You're kidding." He shakes his head, "You owe me something for it though." She smiles, reaching up to wrap her arms around her neck, placing a soft kiss to his lips which seems to be his secret password as he pulls back smiling. "I'll be right back with it, you meet me at the counter." She lets him go, watching him walk away as if he had the most important mission in the world. "I'll the luckiest girl in the world," she calls as she hears the door to the back room open. "Yeah you are!" She makes her way up to the front counter, tapping her nails against its cold granite top.

She can't help the way her mind wanders as she waits. It was just so wild to her that he was so public with her. Kissing her in his job, knowing it would get caught on his work's security cameras and his boss would give him shit about being professional. Stan never would have kissed her at work like that, even if he wasn't on the clock. And Richie, it's like he craved her affections. (Y/n) was slowly beginning to understand what it was like to feel wanted, and it felt good. And the girl had no idea that she was doing the same for him.

"It was on the top shelf, you severely underpaid my efforts, Dollface." She gives him a fake pout, "You're tall, you'll live through it." He shakes his head, pulling it to his chest, "I had to get a ladder for it, that's hard work." She sighs, though he can tell it's in a teasing manor as she grabs his collar, tugging him closer so that he was halfway bet over the counter. Pressing a soft , longer kiss onto his lips. "Can I have my record now? Please, pretty boy?" He laughs, ringing her up as she lets his collar go. "Only because you're really cute. And a good kisser, not as good as Ms. K, but," he winks at her as she scoffs. "You're still on that? I'm so telling Eddie." "Don't you dare," he smiles at her, bagging the vinyl carefully so it wouldn't get messed up on her drive home. She smiles at him, finally pushing herself off the counter, "I can't believe you had it. This is so exciting, you have to come listen to this with me tomorrow." He reaches over, poking her nose, "I wouldn't miss it. You know, I've ever met anyone who was as into James Taylor as I am, no one who even liked him enough to buy the records so they held up better." She hums, looking up at him, "But I do."

He types in his employee discount code, not that he'd tell her he did. She'd argue with him for at least five minutes if she knew, so he just read her the total, thankful that she hadn't seen it on the shelf. Even if he knew that he'd be in trouble when she checked her receipt in the car. But she was worth giving up his discount, even if it cost him an argument about how he shouldn't do that. "Thank you, Rich. You're definitely going to be there tomorrow right?" "I wouldn't miss it, Doll."

She holds the record to her chest as she walks to the door, an excited smile stretched across her face. "That your girl?" "Yeah," he smiles over to her, seeing the way she'd stopped at the door, "She's mine." "Lucky boy," the man laughs, placing his items on the counter, "Seems like she has good taste." "Yeah, she does. No idea how she picked me out when she has good taste everywhere else." The response makes her giggle as she makes her way out of the door. His words echoing in her mind as she gets into her car.

We tell stories and you don't know why I'm coming off a little shy

(Y/n) smiles softly from her spot on Richie's lap, leaning against him as if he trust was going to disappear. She hadn't spent time with all seven members of the losers club since Halloween, she sorta felt like an intruder in her own home. She nearly felt shy about it, clinging to Richie in their spot between Bev and her brother. As if she'd be unrecognizable without them. The group was passing around stories from the past few months and (Y/n) was trying really hard to pay attention. It was hard to keep up with Bill and Stan as they bounced off of each other, trying to tell a story about practice but it seemed to blur. And toying with Richie's fingers where they rest in her lap seems a little more entertaining than listening to Stan did.

"Oh, and that was the day that I found out that (Y/n) and Richie and she basically tore me a new one." It caught her attention, her head popping up to look at him. "Yeah, well, you wanted to tear my boyfriend apart. So you kinda deserved it." Bill puts his hands up as if to surrender, "You got me there." "No way, what did you say to him?" Bev laughs as she shoves (Y/n)'s arm. She nervously clings to Richie, "Well you know he was yelling at me worried about 'how could I do this again' and how I was going to get hurt again and I was like 'By Richard Tozier?' And I pointed out how many times this fucking fool has gotten in trouble for me and Bill was all 'you got me there' and now we're cool. He's playing it up, really."

"I don't know, Doll. You were cursing and screaming at him, it was pretty loud. Really cute that you felt the need to stand up for me though." "You heard?" She can feel her cheeks heat up as she turns to him. "I'm pretty sure the entire neighborhood heard you, (Y/n), Bill laughs. The girl looks back down to the tangle of fingers in her lap, "On that note, I'm going to get a drink, anybody want one?" "Can you grab me a water?" Bill smiles up at her as she wiggles out of Richie's arms. "Anyone else?" "I want one, but I'll come with," Richie gets up, following her out the door. He didn't actually want a drink, he just wanted to make sure his girlfriend was okay. He grabs a hold of her hand, nearly clinging to it as they make their way into the kitchen.

She's immediately at the fridge, dropping is hand to grab Bill's water and sit it on the counter. "Dollface?" She hums, searching her fridge for god knows what. "Are you okay? You seem out of it today." He walks over before she can respond, wrapping his arms around her from behind, feeling the chill of the fridge hit his face. "I'm okay. I might go lay down though." He frowns, rubbing a hand up and down her arm, "Are you sick, Doll?" She shakes her head, "I just feel like I'm intruding, no one else brought their partners so it's weird." He knows it's not his place to intrude, kissing the top of her head, "Can I join you? I'll play with your hair if you want? Rub your back?" She turns to look at him for a second, "Are you sure? I don't wanna take you away." He shakes his head, "I wanna be with you."

It makes her smile, reaching into the fridge again to grab a Gatorade, "What do you want to drink, baby?" "Oh, I didn't actually want one. I just wanted to make sure you were okay." She smiles, leaning against his chest, "Thank you." "Go ahead upstairs, Doll, I'll take this to Bill and meet you there," he grabs Bill's water as he speaks, heading to the living room as (Y/n) heads up the stairs. "Hey guys, (Y/n) isn't feeling very well so she's going to go lay down. I' going to go lay with her, so I hate to cut this short but," he shrugs, handing Bill his water. "Why do you have to go lay with her? She's a big girl," Stan looks at Richie with his brows raised as if trying to find an ulterior motive. "Well Stan, most people want to know that their partner is okay" his words aren't actively malicious but Bev laughs at it anyway.

"Door open," Bill calls after the boy, trying to hide the smirk that Richie's words made. "William, my dear, my dick has many talents but curing headaches not of them." "Gross," Bill yells back, but Richie can hear him slightly laughing, "I mean it, Tozier, I'm not ready to be an Uncle."

Richie turns the corner entering her room with a smirk which causes her to raise an eyebrow. "What, pray tell, did you say to my brother?" "He told me to keep the door open when I came up here and I so scientifically informed him that sex cannot cure a headache." "Oh, headache excuse, nice! I wish you could make all my excuses," she mumbles, opening her arms as she reaches for him. He shakes his head causing her to frown. "I'm the big spoon or no sale." She huffs turning to face her window with her arms playfully crossed over her chest. Richie however is climbing onto her bed as she fakes her little pout, one arm sliding under her head as the other wraps around her waist. Her hands reach down for his fingers, toying with them again. "What is it with you and my hands?" "I like them," she hums, twisting his class ring absent mindedly, "They're comforting. And big, makes them easy to play with."

It makes him chuckle, "You know what else is big?" He grabs her hips, snatching her back against his own hips. "Oh! Well now you've made it gross, get out of my bed," she pouts pulling away from him. "Wait, no, I'm sorry. Hold my hand again, I take it back," He pulls her back, tucking his face into her hair as he pouts. "Should I?" She giggles, squirming to get comfortable before taking his hand gently. Her hips adjust again, causing him to tighten his grip on them so she holds still. "Behave." "Oh, when have you ever behaved?"

And we walked down the block to my car And I almost brought him up

(Y/n) wasn't the type to go to parties that were hosted by someone she didn't know. But Richie was, enough so that he had her and the whole losers club at a "pre-prom party" whatever the hell that was. She didn't know anyone there outside of her boyfriend, her brother and his friends and it showed as she stood in the kitchen alone, back pressed to the counter as she sipped on a water bottle.

"Hey," she turned to see Stan walking up to her holding a plastic cup. "Hey, Stan," (Y/n) pulls her arms closer staring at him nervously. They hadn't been alone since before their break up, and if she was honest she really didn't want to be now. "So you and Richie are going to prom together huh?" She nods, "Yep, have been since March, like early March." He nods, finishing his drink before turning to her, "He'll never be me you know. He'll never know you the way I do. Once the way he babies you gets annoying you'll be running right back to sneaking around with me. Hell, I won't even make you break up with him for it, that makes it hotter." He's obviously drunk, slurring over every third word. But that doesn't make his words upset her less. "Where's your girlfriend, Stanley. You know, the one you're taking to prom?"

She pushes herself off the counter, on the way into the living room of whoever's house this was. She wanted Richie, she just wants to go home if she was honest, but not without Richie. She tried to stick to the edge, laughing slightly when she finally spotted him, dancing with Bill to "Baby Got Back". "Richie!" She has to yell for him to hear her, but when he does he grabs her no problem, pulling her against his chest and kissing her temple, "Hey there's my baby! What's up?" She frowns, realizing how happy her was, maybe she should just tough it out. "Hey, is everything okay?" He tilts her head to look at him and she smiles. "Yeah just, whenever you're ready to go home, I am." He nods, "We can go home, Bill we're going home!" "Be safe! Use protection!" She buries her face in Richie's shoulder, embarrassed as he walks her to the door. Bill was so wasted.

"Who even throws a pre-prom party?" (Y/n) forces a laugh as they walk out of the house. "Her?" He answers it as if it's the simplest thing in the world. Arms wrapped tightly around her as they walk, swaying slightly due to how drunk Richie truly was. "I see that. It was totally just an excuse to get wasted, right?" He nods, "It worked." And she tries not to change the conversation to what happened in the kitchen. She had already seen that he was willing to get defensive over her and she didn't want to see what drunk Richie would do.

But what Stan said, Richie should know right? Then again, they were both drunk and she had no way of knowing that either would remember it. Her thoughts are cut off by the way that Richie grabs for her hand, tangling their fingers together and leaning on her and she doesn't think she actually cares about Stan. More interested in the boy who would leave a party just because she asked and the way he clings to her. One day he'd have to face it, in a month and a half, Richie has been more of a man than Stan was in four. Twice the man that Stan would ever be. And Richie should know that she thinks that, shouldn't he? Just, not tonight.

"So Bill said that if you want to come stay with me he'll cover for you with your mom." And that one sentence made her drop it, if Bill, even drunk Bill, had shown Richie that he trusted him with her, the Richie already knew he was more of man than Stan. Hell, he probably knew long before that moment. "Oh yeah?" "Yeah, we're going to have a sleepover! And we're going to talk about boys; you can only talk about me though, unless you want to talk about other boys I guess. But only if the other boys are hotter than me." She laughs, unlocking his door before kissing his cheek, "There's not hotter boys than you, baby. Even when you're this wasted, I think you're hot." He turns to smile at her, sitting down but keeping his legs out the car so she can't close the door. "You're so nice. Oh! And you can wear one of my shirts which is you know, so hot" he's got a lazy smile on his face, leaning against the seat. She laughs, leaning down to kiss his forehead, "Seeing me in clothes is hot? Here I thought that I've been playing hard to get. Now, finish getting in the car, I need to get you home." He gets in the car, pulling his door closed with a pout as she goes around to her driver's side. The moment she's fully in the car his hand is on her thigh, "I think you're always hot, but I think my clothes would just double it. Because ya know, they're mine and so are you. Not that I own you, I think you could kick my ass, though you could claim you own me if you wanted. That's also hot." She shakes her head, "Okay Richie Baby."

I've been spending the last eight months Thinking all love ever does is break, and burn, and end

"You look so pretty tonight," Richie's voice barely makes it to her ear in the bustling noise of their prom. Even the slow songs were too loud for her. "Richie you've told me that at least three times an hour since you showed up at my house," she smiles up at him, brushing some hair out of his face. "And I'll keep saying it. Purple is so your color, I'm serious, Doll, you look amazing." She smiles, looking up at him, "So do you, Richie. Serious, I'm the luckiest girl here." He leans down, softly kissing her. Her hands left his shoulders to hold the sides of his face to keep him in place. "Hey, Doll?" He pulls back, leaving her to pout up at him.

"Yeah?" "Come with me for a second." She nods, taking his hand and letting him lead her to the direction of the bathroom. It was quieter there, and just the two of them. Just like he'd hoped for. "Is everything okay, Rich?" "Yeah," his voice cracks slightly as he sits down on one of the benches, "Just wanted to talk to you without screaming. It was sorta, important." She nods, making her way to sit beside him "Is everything alright?" He nods, "It's actually probably stupid but uh," he grabs her hand, "Do you remember when we were kids, and I got in a fight over you at a playground. And how from that moment up until the whole, mess that Stan made our dads swore you and I were going to fall in love one day? And we always said it was gross because of cooties and how I was Bill's friend so I couldn't love his sister?" She laughs nervously, shifting slightly in her seat, "Yeah, why?" "Well, I think maybe they were right after all, or at least half right." The nerves are turning into butterflies as he looks at her like that.

"Are you saying what I think you are, Tozier?" He lets out a soft sigh, looking at her as if he's scared of his own answer. "I love you," he can't look away from her, as if he's glued in one place. "Richie?" "Yeah?" His heart begins sinking. Maybe she wasn't over Stan, maybe he pushed too fast? What if he was just a distraction? "I love you too," her hand finds the back of his neck, dragging him closer as if she needs him. And maybe she does. He doesn't stop her, instead pulling her closer as their lips meet, the girl cupping his cheek, a thumb rubbing circles on his cheekbone in a way that makes him melt into her, hand coming up to keep her there. They pull away slowly, breathless and heart-eyed. "I love you," she smiles pecking his lips again, wrapped up in the high of the moment. He pecks her lips, whispering, "I love you too," against them. Too wrapped up in her to care who passes them.

[sugamamacustard]

Please don’t let me go

Pairing:  Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, NSFW

Request: HIII my favourite author!!! Happy new year 💜. Wishing you a very happy 2021. Ok sooo i got a scenario In mind. You don't have to write it if you don't want to Reader (half wolf/half omega, and if you don't write half wolf, then omega) in a pack (maybe like you know joint nekoma, fukorodani and karasuno but it's ok if you don't write that, only nekoma then in case) where their pack hasn't exactly accepted them, they're very cold with her. Reader , who has madly been in love with kuroo (cuz I'm such a kuroo lover) for very long, doesn't mind and continues to take care of everyone, making sure their ok and basically like having a soft sweet motherly attitude despite how they treat reader. But at one point reader is just fed up and feels very hurt, thinking they hate them and blames themselves. They also have to keep seeing kuroo bring in other girls for his heat and that Hurts them a lot. So reader thinks they never needed them and slowly stops contacting them. That's when everyone realises they fucked up and tried to find them but they can't. Until one day reader comes to practice and says their joining another pack and apologies for not being enough and all, how would the pack and kuroo, who loves them, stop them, apologize and make it up with them? Angst to fluff, and if you want idk if you write it but nsfw. You don't have to write it ofc! It's just a quick scenario that came to my mind. Please ignore this if you don't want to write it, and sorry if it's too specific and long 🥺

Summary:   You were excited when the other packs joined yours, even finding solace in one of the alphas of one, but suddenly, you weren’t needed. Wanted. Not what he desired. And that hurt. So you do the only thing you can think of. Try to find someone who will comfort your poor omega heart.

Author’s Note: I’m your favorite 🥺 🥺 Happy new year babes!  And I was reading this, and I just kept getting more and more ideas and began writing it right away Hope you enjoy!

Requests: Open!

Keep in Mind! This heavily based off of my Dragon/Shifter! AU from my mainblog! (@Angstyclowns) . The long short of it, is that Shifters have three forms. The first, is completely human. Though the person still has some attributes (Better sight, smell, hearing, etc.) they don’t have any visible features. The second form gives the shifter about half of their features. Tails, ears, wings, fangs, things like that. The third is the “full form”. This is a full dragon, wolf, cat, dog, etc.. You aren’t able to talk in this form, but you do have full control of your actions. I can go into more depth in this AU! if you all want, be sure to let me know!

Tetsuro Kuroo

➵ The Fukorodani pack was big. Huge maybe. 

➵ It was made up of three different, smaller, packs that had combined for both numbers and power. Karasuno, (the namesake) Fukorodani, and Nekoma. 

➵ You were originally apart of Fukorodani, only really close with Akaashi and Bokuto and had yet to get close with anyone else. 

➵ You still cared for them though. 

➵ You prepped meals in the morning, making enough for everyone. 

➵ Made sure you always had band-aids just in case.

➵ You took the role of pack omega well. 

➵ But people still seemed to hold you at an arms length. 

➵ You at first brushed it off, as they were getting used to being in such a big pack, but as they got more comfortable with Bokuto and Akaashi, you began to feel this sense of unease. 

➵ It was obvious they didn’t trust you, but you couldn’t quite place why. 

➵ It soon got to the point where even Akaashi and Bokuto were spending less and less time with you. 

➵ Your omega was hurt and you felt completely deserted. 

➵ You had no idea what was happening. Did you do something wrong?

➵ You didn’t think so. You just did what you always did. Maybe you were too clingy. 

➵ Too overbearing. 

➵ Yeah, that was it. Right? 

➵ Too much too soon. 

➵ So you slowly began pulling away. You stopped making breakfast (Staying in your nest and feigning being asleep when Akaashi or Suga would come check up on you.). 

➵ Stopped carrying medical supplies. Which hurt at first when Hinata or Noya would excitedly ask you for a cartoon printed band-aid, but immediately frowned when you said you didn’t have any.

➵ You just stopped...caring? 

➵ You went on runs a lot more, staying out later and later and leaving earlier and earlier. There were days when no one saw you at all-- Bokuto ending up crying on those days, almost as if his alpha knew you were pulling away. 

➵ He would make an effort to spend the next day with you but then the process would just repeat itself. He’d be gone with Kuroo for days, weeks on end and you were stuck alone one more time. 

➵ “We always have an opening.” Daishou hummed, stretching his arms out as his forked tongue wiggled between his lips. Your tail swiped behind you as your ears fell back. “We could use a wolf like you. Strong legs, strong jaw, good looks-” 

➵ “Don’t.” You sighed, wrapping your tail around your waist and wringing it gently with your hands. “I appreciate the offer, but I- I can’t. I just-”

➵ “I get it. It’s that damned cat, yeah?” The olive haired alpha smirked, playing with one of his scaled fingers. He chuckled at your red cheeks, licking his teeth all the while.  

➵ It was not secret that you fell for the Pack alpha of Nekoma, Kuroo, quickly. Though Daishou (A snake shifter that you ran into during one of your all day runs) didn’t approve of the crush, he didn’t interfere with it. He respected it, in fact, encouraging it on days he felt good. 

➵ You could honestly say Daishou was one of your closest friends at the moment. He always allowed you into his territory, his pack supporting and loving you all the while. 

➵ He had offered to let you join his pack, in fact, but you turned him down. You were tied with Fukorodani, with Akaashi, with Bokuto. They were your family.

➵ Whether or not they saw you the same way, that was how you saw them. 

➵ Your inner omega kept reminding you that Daishou was also your family. 

➵ You suppose the final straw was seeing Kuroo laughing with some random Beta girl. She smelled like cheap perfume, making you reel. You merely watched as he kissed her neck, nipping her ear, quickly taking her to his room. His rut was around the corner so you knew what was going on. 

➵ Didn’t mean you had to like it though. 

➵ Maybe like a rebellious teenager, this kicked off that side you had been hiding.

➵ Instead of disappearing for a day every few weeks, you disappeared for days, one right after the other. You would pop in for a change of clothes, shift into your wolf and you were gone. 

➵ You were strategic about it too. You made sure one person saw you enter, just to assure everyone else you were alive. You made sure they were far enough away they couldn’t catch you even if they shifted-- which most did. They tried to talk to you, just once.

➵ But you had routes made in the deep of night to get you out of sight, running through water to get rid of your scent, just doing everything to make you disappear. 

➵ And slowly, but surely, Daishou and his pack began considering you their omega, just as you began forgetting about the Fukorodani pack. 

➵ Everyone on the other side just got worse though. More often than not, meals were either ordered in or skipped all together. Alphas snapped on each other, Betas snarled in retaliation, omegas were hissing and closing in. 

➵ While Bokuto and Akaashi were expected to be the worst of this all, they weren’t. While they growled and hissed and snapped, they didn’t snarl. They were recluse and kept away, looking for you day in and day out instead. 

➵ The worst of all was Kuroo. He snarled and snapped, baring his teeth at anyone who crossed his path. That beta girl? She ran out a week ago, bleeding from her hand because Kuroo had bitten her for touching him when he told her to go away. 

➵ Even Kenma had been on the receiving end of a near-close call, making everyone turn their attention to what his issue was. 

➵ They only got their answer on one of the few short trips you made back. You smelled heavily like the territory next door, so much so they could smell it from your room while you were re-packing your bag. 

➵ Your nest had been dismantled and one of the several blankets in there was folded and you began putting it into your bag, only for Kuroo to slam open your door. 

➵ You chirped in surprise, crawling back from the seething alpha. He was angry, you could tell, and you didn’t want to get in his way. 

➵ You bowed your head, quickly zipping up your bag before making your way to the window. 

➵ You couldn’t deal with him right now. Not with your feelings, not with his anger. You just couldn’t. 

➵ “Where the fuck are you going?” He hissed, stomping to your window and shutting it before you could crawl through. 

➵ “I- I don’t- Just-”

➵ He stopped you, sniffing your neck. “You smell like him.”

➵ “Who’s him?”

➵ “That fucking snake! Who else?!” Teeth are dragged dangerously down your neck, making you shudder. “What the fuck are you doing near him?”

➵ “Dai-”

➵ “Don’t fucking say his name. Answer the question. Why were you near him?! His pack?! We are right here. We’re your pack. Not them.” He sounded close to exploding,  making you whine as you withdrew. 

➵ He ran a hand through his hair as he paced in front of you. “Were we not good enough? Huh? You needed another pack? WHY WEREN’T WE GOOD ENOUGH?!” 

➵ You didn’t realize it, but you began shaking, slowly drawing in on yourself, trying to seem as small as possible. 

➵ You didn’t want to make the alpha angry. Why was he so angry? 

➵ “Tell me!” Looking up, you hiccupped as tears began streaming down your face, Kuroo having his own tears dripping down his cheeks. “Why wasn’t I good enough?”

➵ He collapsed in front of you, hands yanking on his hair. 

➵ And while you were hesitant, you slowly crept closer. He was shaking his head by the time you got close enough to hear him whispering “Please don’t leave.” Making your heart and omega whine. 

➵ “I-” You stopped. What was there to say? All of a sudden he wanted you here? Where was he the past however many weeks? 

➵ You wanted to scream at him. Turn and leave through the window anyway. 

➵ Leave this pack, and Kuroo, behind. 

➵ “Don’t leave me. I don’t care about the rest of them-- maybe Kenma-- but don’t leave me. Please. I can’t handle- I can’t handle not seeing you everyday. I thought I could. I thought I could fill the void with meaningless flings, but they couldn’t even touch me before I was aching for you. “ He was sobbing now, tears dripping down his cheeks. 

➵ You hesitantly wrapped an arm around his shoulder, allowing him to cry into your shoulder. He held you tightly, refusing to let you slip through his fingers as he almost had. 

➵ “I-I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me anymore, Kuroo. I-I tried staying, and that didn’t work. I tried leaving, and that didn’t work either. I don’t want to leave but I can’t stay. I’m so touch starved and I can’t keep living like this!” You cried out, frustrated with all the mixed signals around you. 

➵ What did your pack want from you?

➵ “We’ll fix it! I swear, I’ll fix it myself. I swear on my life. I’ll fix it. Fix myself. Make myself that alpha you deserve. Please.”

➵ You said nothing. Only allowing him to hold you close. 

___NSFW___

➵ “Tetsuro!” You squealed, laughing as soft kisses were laced down your thighs. 

➵ “Kitten~” He responded, suckling a hickey right near your cunt. 

➵ You were wearing nothing but his sweatshirt and he was rabid seeing you, his pretty omega all nice and ready for him. 

➵ And his cock. 

➵ Sitting up, he pulled you onto his thighs with a swift movement, making you laugh once more.

➵ He smirked down at you once you calmed down, pressing a sweet peck to your lips, making you hum with satisfaction. 

➵ His hands trailed under his shirt to rest on your hips, keeping you close to him. You seemed so ethereal, sitting in the light that filtered through the window-- oranges and reds highlighting your body.

➵ “I love you. I love you so much.” He huffed, leaning his forehead onto yours, feeling the heat of your smile against his lips. 

➵ “I love you too, Tetsuro.” Another peck was pressed to his lips. 

➵ His heart felt so full, having you in his arms, having you in his grasp. He just couldn’t let you go. 

➵ He had almost done that once. 

➵ But he would never make the same mistake again. 

___

His cock dragged slowly out of your walls, sending shocks of pleasure and sensation wavering through your body as you shuddered. It wasn’t often you got to see the slow and sensual side of Tetsuro-- the one that would kiss your bond mark, the one that would tear up as he spilled praise after praise into your ear, the one that would hold a hand on your chest just to feel your thundering heartbeat only to pull your hand up to feel his own, which was just as bad--but when you did it left you  just breathless as he always did. There were days when you just needed this side and he always picked up on that, but some days he needed the solace he got with it as well. 

You’d always enable it, purring and whispering your own praises to him, kissing his temples when his emotions bubbled far to quickly for him to properly absorb, spilling over.  

It was times like this, when his forehead rested against your shoulder, did you feel closest. His pants were hot against your already flushed skin, adding already to your sensitive body. 

Running a hand through his hair, you waited for him to give you an indicator of what he wanted. What he needed from you at that very moment. 

When he didn’t move it hit you. He just wanted you close. To keep you close. To remind himself you were still there. To remind himself he won the war. He won you. He finally got the queen to his kingdom. The one he wanted from the star. 

And you would indulge him, running your both your hands through his hair and holding him close.  Even if you pretended not to feel the happy tears falling onto your shoulder. 

____

Soft sex Kuroo had me  🥺 🥺 

[whaleofatjme1920]

In a Mirror Image (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

🌸 In a Mirror Image

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: blood, language, cheating (both physical but it's not like, in your face, and emotional)]

Part 1

The flowers that grow like weeds in your lungs bloom thicker and thicker every day. Your vision clouds with blue more often than not, and you can’t think about anything but the blossoms and blood that paint the bathroom with a hue you’re already much too used to. It’s a painful existence, and it’s getting worse. One of the most wretched parts? You’re deteriorating so fast that your vision no longer services you. You are blind, unrendered to see. You still choose to live in a delusion, and you are amongst the only who choose not to acknowledge it.

By now, everyone knows but only one other than you refuses to acknowledge it.

You hear Hoodie arguing with Jack more often than not. It seems the blond haired proxy is angry over what Jack has done to you and because he knows what Hanahaki does to those it takes root in.

“You’ll fucking kill her,” Hoodie seethes as he gets in Jack’s face for the fourth time this weekend. “Look at her-”

“I am!” Jack shot back, his arms crossing defensively over his chest. “Who are you to come in here and speculate on something that you’re not a part of?” He growls. Normally, Jack likes talking to Hoodie, but not when Hoodie’s on a mission to prove Jack a sinner.

“I wasn’t even aware you still had one,” Hoodie retorts through grit teeth. “I can’t believe you. Look at the flowers Ja-” and before he can continue tearing into Jack, he hears your bedroom door open.

While you still share the room with Jack, neither of you are in it at the same time. You’ve taken residence up on the living room couch with Kate and Jack more often than not stays with Leia. The room you share is usually empty, much like your heart.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Hoodie suddenly greets you as you tiredly walk into the kitchen where the two men had previously been in a standoff. “Did you sleep okay?” He asks, voice so much softer and gentler with you than what he had just been using.

You shake your head as you take a seat at the table. “I can’t sleep,” you say.

Hoodie’s brows furrow in sympathy before they knit in frustration when Jack sits next to you. He watches as Jack snakes his arm around you before he presses an empty kiss to the side of your head.

“No?” Jack says in a sickly saccharine tone. “I’ll see what I can do about that. Does that sound good to you?”

You nod slightly, the ghost of a smile on your lips. “That sounds good,” you murmur back.

“Anything for you,” he hums as he pulls you in closer to his side.

“You disgust me,” Hoodie hisses to Jack as he gets up and pushes in his chair roughly, making the table bounce. He doesn’t take his eyes off of Jack for a second as he leaves, roughly slamming the front door behind him.

“What was that about?” You ask, feigning innocence. You refuse to open your eyes to the situation you are in.

“He’s having a bad day,” Jack answers. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it,” he hums as he presses another kiss to the side of your head.

The butterflies in your stomach are dead, but the flowers blood evermore.

“You’re still sleeping out here?” Kate hums as she takes a seat next to you on the couch. She looks exhausted and she’s covered in blood. Her mask is cracked too.

“I guess,” you yawn as you shift slightly from your not so comfortable position. “How has your day been?” You ask as you reach for a glass of water only to see it’s not there.

“Let me,” Kate says as she gets up once more. She knows you’re getting worse. After getting you a bottle of water from the fridge, she comes back to your side. “I’ve had a busy day. Met with an independent named Nyein. They remind me of a big cat,” she finally answers as she opens the water bottle for you.

You take it and begin to slowly sip from it - it stops the flowers from blooming ever so slightly. Your airway opens just a little bit. “Do they now?”

Kate nods as she flips mindlessly through the channels. “They said they’re falling in love with a human. Bad business,” Kate winces, her dark eyes watching you carefully. “I hope they don’t…”

“It’s bad business,” you suddenly say as you feel petals fill your mouth. You cough slightly and the small little forget-me-nots fall into your lap, thankfully free of blood this time. You take one of the flowers into your fingertips and observe it gently. “I hope they’re okay.”

Kate puts her hand on your thigh, lightly squeezing before finally settling on the early evening news. “You wanna burn these blue fuckers?” She asks as the flowers in your lap remain stagnant save for the buds that unfurl at an alarmingly fast pace.

You feel the corners of your lips curl into a smile. “Yes.”

Morbid, your flowers have been springing up everywhere. They’ve infested the temporary house. So, you and Kate went around the place, plucking every single one before starting a bonfire in the backyard.

Toby, who considers himself a bit of a pyromaniac, was immediately summoned by the fire the two of you had cast in the backyard. He’d been out on a grocery run, and honestly, he had wanted to get out of the house.

The dynamics of the house had become uncomfortable to him. What with Leia and Jack sneaking off together and you coughing up a full greenhouse, he has been stressed. Toby can’t stand Jack and Hoodie arguing all the time as it reminds him of the life he tried to escape, and Masky can offer so much but ever since he renounced his love for Jay by force… It’s been hard. Toby knows it’s been hard for everyone involved.

He crosses through the house, sneers at Leia’s room, and then exits through the back to the scent of fire. He sees Kate’s arm around you as the fire blazes slightly blue.

“W-What are you g-gals up to?” He asks, coming to your other side so you remain in the middle.

“Burning stuff,” Kate nonchalantly replies. “You care to chuck anything in?”

Toby glances at you as you struggle to keep air in your lungs. “If I d-d-did, I’d be u-under c-charge for killing a-a-another under the O-Operator’s care,” he muses. He’s referring to Jack, of course. He takes in the scent of burning plant matter and blood and frowns when he remembers it’s yours. His hand reaches yours and squeezes gently.

You squeeze back.

Your experiences with Leia are lukewarm at best, and cold at worst. She’s something, she really is something. There’s moments when no one is in the temp house with you except for her alongside you, and those moments are tense, sharp, like a knife and burn colder than the depths of the sea.

The most memorable conversation you’ve ever had was the one that triggered a domino effect that would lead to a black hole in your chest.

“You’re still up?” Leia’s honeyed voice questions softly as she takes a seat across from you on the back porch at the glass table.

You find it more stifling inside so you choose to spend your time out. The weather is warm, afterall. The sun shines and fluffy clouds the size of whales swim overhead. You have a glass of pink lemonade made from a pouch Hoodie and Kate had picked up earlier. You find that the tang is enough to keep the flowers down.

“Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” You say in passing before you sip from the glass. You enjoy watching the rabbits in the backyard. They hop around without a care in the world.

She begins to thread her fingers through her long silver hair, braiding it. “I just think you should be resting,” she says. “You look so tired these days-”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Touched a nerve,” she sighs. “You know you’re getting worse, right?”

You shoot her a glare, but you know she’s right. You’ve actually been holding out surprisingly longer than most people with Hanahaki Disease. Most people succumb to it within a few weeks of coughing, but you’ve managed to hold out for damn near an entire year. That’s almost unheard of. You’ve been hacking up flowers, their stems, roots and blood ever since Leia came into your life.

Everyone tells you that you’re getting worse, but you should have been dead months ago.

“Stop it,” you growl.

“You’re killing yourself,” she continues. “You could just… Let it all go, y’know?” She hums as she continues to fishtail her silver strands. “Renounce your feelings for him and save yourself.”

You grip your glass and set it back down roughly on the table. “That is literally none of your concern,” you repeat, eyes narrowing at the blue eyed beauty across from you. “Acting like you care-”

“I do, though,” she cuts you off. “I know that the Slender Man has big plans for you, but with you wasting away like this… You’ll never live long enough to see them through.” She flashes you a look of concern, but you can tell it’s fake. It shines like pyrite.

“What, so you can take my place just like that?” You bite back. “You can’t even wait until I’m fucking dead?”

Leia giggles and you hate to admit that it sounds pretty. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Daddy always did say I got what I wanted.” Her eyes drift off and you’re able to see she’s no longer thinking about you, but someone who once loved her. She finishes the braid. “Happy six years to you and Jack. Give him all my regards, won’t you?” She stands up, eyes the rabbits feasting on the clover in the grass, before she plucks your half empty glass from in front of you.

“Leia-!”

“It’s not like you need it,” she chuckles.

“It’s a special day,” you said to Masky, a small smile on your face. “It’s our six year anniversary.” Your posture changes to attention as he closes the door softly behind him. He still smells like cigarettes, but it’s a pleasant scent you’ve found comfort in where others find it a nuisance.

Masky put a smile on his face but it didn't reach his eyes. “You need me to draw a portal or something for you?” He holds his arms open to you as you fall into them, part because you’re so weak and secondly because he knows you need the affection - even if he can’t feel it.

You feel light come to your eyes as you nod after leaving a note for Jack in your shared room on his nightstand.

‘Dear Jack, happy six years! I’d wait for you to get back, but I have a surprise for you at the field you gifted to me for our first anniversary. I await you with happiness. Love, R.’

Masky drew the portal in the living room, a mess of swirling cloud-like silvers and blacks before he laid eyes upon the place you once shared only with Jack. “It’s super pretty,” he says, dark eyes scanning over all the wildflowers. There’s weeds on the path, like no one has cared for it in a while. ‘How poetic,’ he thinks. ‘It’s an allegory for your decayed relationship with Jack.’

“No it’s not,” you giggle as you bring Masky down one of the weed and chicory covered paths to the gazebo. “But it’s special to me,” you hum as you take a seat.

Masky follows beside you. He doesn’t take a seat, mostly feeling it wrong to impose on a space that is Jack’s despite his respect for him falling so far from what it used to be, but takes in the scent of dying flowers all the same. It’s summer, and instead of the sun warming the soft petals, it’s burning them. When you cough up more flowers while waiting for the man who still holds your heart (and refuses to return it) you’re less than pleased to see that they blend in with the untamed mosaic.

“Are you still tired?” Masky asks softly as he lights up a cigarette. “You can rest, I’m sure he won’t mind.”

You glance over to Masky before you rest your head in your hands, wondering where your lover is. You listen to the wind as it blows through the leaves. You listen to Masky’s hum, and eventually, you fall asleep.

You wake back up sometime during the night in your bed and not in a position you normally sleep in. It looks like whoever delivered you back here was extra careful with handling you. You only wake up because Jack has accidentally turned on the light.

“Shit, my bad,” he apologizes, quickly plunging the room back into darkness. “Did I wake you?” He knows he did.

“No,” you lie. “I couldn’t sleep anyways.” That was the most rest you’ve had in months. “Where have you been?” You ask quietly, still choosing to remain buried in the sheets.

Jack slides into bed next to you and gets comfortable. He smells like perfume you don’t wear. Through the faint light of the hallway that peeks under your door, you can see he’s got dark marks on his neck and jaw. “Leia wanted to show me her childhood home. Place isn’t run by Zalgo anymore, so we took a trip out there.”

“Did you now?” You hum as you feel tears prick your eyes.

Jack can see you in the dark. His vision at night far surpasses a human’s. He just chooses not to acknowledge it. Jack knows that his relationship with you is gone, and that you’ve been coughing up flowers for the past year. He knows, and it hurts him. Hurts him deeply that he’s the one causing you such pain, but at the same time, he’s a coward. He chooses not to let you go cleanly because his relationship with Leia is so finite.

He knows she only wants him because at the time he was unattainable. Now that she has him, it is only a matter of time until she does to him what he’s done to you. He understands that fully, but he refuses to leave the safety net that is you because he is selfish. His feelings for you aren’t nonexistent, but it’s that kind of fondness one has after the deed has been done, a love based on past memory and sentiment rather than what will and can be. It has reached his threshold, and you both are too caught up in security rather than what is healthy.

“I did,” he says as his mind rushes a mile a minute. “What did you do today?”

You wonder if you should answer that honestly or not. Would he even care? “I stayed here today, nothing special.” You feel the flowers unfurling in your lungs.

Jack hums once more, his back now facing you as he slowly succumbs to sleep.

You met Masky in the bathroom again, hacking your lungs and more of those fucking flowers up into the bathrub and the sink. Hell, you even got some in the toilet. Your body is growing weaker and weaker by the day. The fact you’ve held out for a year is astronomical, but you know you’ll be being taken from it eventually. No one survives Hanahaki when their lover’s feelings aren’t returned. It either gets returned, or you lose them all entirely.

He almost lost you. You broke the mirror when your body went limp as the vines and flowers crawled out from your lungs, through your esophagus and out of your mouth. If it was an art installation piece, Masky might’ve thought it beautiful, but the fact you went cold and limp and the flowers were blooming at a rapid pace - one he thought he couldn’t keep up with.

Masky, despite not being able to really feel anything, panicked as he took you into his arms. Did he genuinely care for you? No, but he cared to whatever extent the surgery left him with. He fretted because you are under his direct care. He cared so deeply because he too had seen many good proxies and independents lost to it. He cared because a part of him remembered what it was like to have daisies and rhododendrons fill his lungs. Normally, you only have one type of flower to clutter your lungs. Science says “just because.” An old wives’ tale says “love truly lost.” In his case? Jay’s death. Nothing was the same after that.

Masky took no hesitation in scooping you up into his arms and running out of the house to the forest to be closer to his boss’s energy. The Operator could fix this should he will it. He didn’t care that the lights in the house went on from his concerned proxies - the ones who had been sick over what befell you since you came into their care. He didn’t dare let you go as he trampled through the brush in the dead of night, using only the moon.

“Sir!” He calls out frantically. “Sir! I need your help!” He can hear your heart get slower and slower.

And just like that, the devoted father came to his child’s cry.

“My child,” he greets, instantly swooping down to look at your pained, flowery visage. “Did I not tell you to handle this?” He chides softly as he takes you into his arms. The sound of static only grows louder and louder.

“I thought she could,” he says, his tone clearly apologetic. “Please, just… Just fix this for me.” He watches the Operator closely as the tall man holds you in his arms.

While you are not exactly his child directly, you are also still under his care. Leia did not lie that the Operator sees good things for you. Without any other words, the tall man is gone, giving you to gods know who to perform a surgery that should be considered the only humane way out.

He returns to the house where Hoodie, Kate and Toby eagerly awaited him, clamoring around him and pecking like hens wondering where you are. He says that you’re in the hands of a god.

You floated in the ether, your body a galaxy. You watched as your chest was torn open - looked like by the hands of an independent that had talons to rival an eagle.

‘There’s so much,’ she says, her mouth turning into a frown as she worked on carefully removing the clusters of flowers. ‘How is she not dead?’

The Slender Man continues to observe, not offering the doctor any words.

The spirals and swirls inside of you continue to swirl before the flowers get torn out, one by one. The roots that cling to your lungs are stubborn, but with every single one removed, the lights of a different universe go out. Snuffed. Lost. The cavity in your chest grows wider until it births a black hole.

‘How much longer?’ The Slender Man asks, watching as the independent calls in another to help her rid your body of weeds.

She shakes her head as she continues to root them out. They bloom under her touch. ‘I have no idea - she must’ve felt so strongly-’

‘They just keep coming up, Sir,’ the other interjects, her four eyes scanning you rapidly.

The black hole begins to suck up the stars and nebulas that comprise your system. It feasts on you, making every part of what made you you, disappear in its depths. It grows larger as it consumes you. It grows heavier. It grows more powerful.

‘We’re almost there,’ the taloned independent says, her wings fluttering softly to emphasize her point. ‘I’ve never seen it this bad before.’

‘Fix this,’ the Slender Man seethes, his patience wearing thin. He knows your body will not be able to handle this much longer.

The black hole reaches its mass, and slowly, it begins to consume you. It overtakes you, bathes you, and leaves nothing left when it has taken all that it can. Your body is empty. You are a shell. Glimpses of blue, grey and reddish brown flash in your mind’s eye and through the eye of the black hole, but you cannot place the feelings you used to associate with them. You remember, but you do not feel.

The last of the flowers are pulled. The taloned independent is exhausted, and her partner is just as tired. ‘Good fucking lord,’ she breathes out, exhausted from the late night gardening session. ‘In all my years I have never seen that awful disease take hold of an individual that bad,’ she notes. Her bird-like eyes watch over your open chest to make sure they’ve fully cleared it out.

A single forget-me-not sprouts, and the Slender Man is the one who plucks it. Just like that, the flowers, their roots, all evidence you’d ever had life inside of you, is gone. Withered and wilted away.

The black hole takes all that you have to offer, and you are back to consciousness, no longer floating, no longer a home to the vibrancy of the universe.

What came after was a bit of a blur. The Slender Man had brought you back to the safe house you had called your home for the past year surprised to see that some of his favored children were still away, waiting for you as the light of the sun rose over the grass. It was a new dawn.

“How is she?” Hoodie asked, immediately springing up.

“Fixed,” was all the Slender Man said, his gaze shifting from you to your group’s leader. “Masky, I’m entrusting you to watch over her as you have been through something similar.”

“Of course,” the dark eyed man says as he takes you gingerly into his arms. “I wouldn’t trust her with anyone else.”

“One last thing,” the tall man in a suit hums. “I am taking Eyeless Jack from this house. Leia will stay with him.”

“It’s probably for the best. We trust your judgment,” Masky replies.

The Slender Man’s head gently cups Masky’s cheek before he leaves them with the sound of static that dissipates as fast as it appeared.

You spent the first few days after your surgery under bed rest. The Slender Man had healed you but he still worried for the state of your lungs. You needed the rest, and you were pleased to have it. Other than that, you felt… nothing. You were numb. Fleeting feelings of happiness or thankfulness, maybe something melancholic would slip through but ultimately, you were nowhere near your old self.

Jack was not allowed anywhere near you. That was one of the first instructions given to him when the Slender Man had popped into his head. While he did not have an opinion on Jack’s unfaithful behavior, he was more displeased with the fact he’d kickstarted the disease in you. The Slender Man thought that if he started it in Leia, then perhaps everything would turn out alright.

So, he sent the two out with a different group - which mostly meant Jeff, someone the Slender Man knew detested behavior that Jack had committed.

It was not easy for Jack to share the same space with Jeff after word had gotten out about you.

“You’re my best friend,” Jeff had sighed one late afternoon, refusing to even acknowledge Leia in the room. “But that? That was fucked up.”

Jack hummed and kept his gaze on Leia, who looked at him with nothing short of adoration. “Sure.”

Jeff sighed once more and stood up. “You don’t feel an inch bad, do you?”

“No.”

“You’re a shitty guy but you’re an even shittier liar.” Jeff broke the door with how hard he’d slammed it on his way out.

Jack really wasn’t the same, that much was apparent. He’d slowly been becoming more withdrawn and quicker to agitation. Of course, he’d take it out on whoever was around to deal with it. Leia included - it just came in a different form. One in which she’d never complained. But when things were rough between them, things were rough.

Jeff could hardly stand the two most days, so when he’d sneak out, it was with his dog to come pay a visit with you. And he hated how dull you had become.

“Masky used to be a lot more personable,” Jeff would say. “Life of the party when we could get him out of his pseudo-philosophical bullshit. Then he hurled flowers and we knew something was wrong.” Jeff’s hand rubs your back gently as a sign of friendship.

“And then?”

“Then he got that stupid surgery and now he’s just existing. No further purpose, just existing because some pale guy says so for his benefit.” Jeff huffed and looked up at the setting sun.

You found your gaze following his.

“What you’re doing right now,” he began. “It’s no way to live.”

“Would you have rather I’d succumbed to it?” You asked, not adding any inflection to whether you’re happy or sad, hurt or even offended.

“In all honesty?” Jeff tore his eyes from the pink and blue sky. “Yeah. This,” he gestured to you. “This isn’t you.”

Everything you’re supposed to feel feels dampened. Instead, you nodded. “Note taken.”

Jeff frowned.

The first time Jack was able to see you after your surgery was nearing halfway to what would have been seven months. It’d been a rough time without him seeing you, mostly because the guilt had been devouring every humanity he had left. Nothing could fill the void.

Like the first time you had met him, it was an accident when you crossed paths once again. You had been clearing out a house one fine winter’s evening, doing what had been asked of you before you got the faintest scent of something familiar and something you once recognized as comforting. You furrow your brows, weapon at your hip as you slowly and quietly come down the stairs.

Your lips are pressed into a thin line as you peer into the living room. Snow falls outside the window.

“Reader?” A male voice asks, turning around from the hallway. “Is that you?”

You tilt your head slightly as you register the mask you’re looking at. Eyeless Jack, mostly just known as ‘EJ’ or ‘Jack’. You’ve never really spent any time with him though outside of little jobs, so you have no idea who this is or why he sounds so happy to see you.

“Uh, hi, EJ?” You say as you walk at a leisurely pace down the stairs.

Jack freezes momentarily as he comes to greet you in the living room. He’d almost forgotten that when the flowers are removed, so too are the memories alongside feelings.”It’s… It’s good to see you,” he says as he looks down at you, wondering if he should touch you or not.

“I guess it’s nice to see you too,” you say. “What are you doing in this area?” You inquire. You vaguely remember the Slender Man not wanting you two to be in the same area.

“Just out and about,” he answers as he scratches at the back of his neck. “Leia wanted to uh, hunt down some of her sisters - I - it doesn’t matter,” he suddenly finishes, feeling much too awkward to even look at you. He knows you don’t remember, but he certainly does. Looking at you… He has a fresh slate.

“That’s nice,” you say in a tone that’s clearly disinterested. You walk towards the living room windows and look into what is now a cold winter’s night. You can see the snow still falling. If you want to make it back to Masky before he gets worried, you’ll need to head out almost immediately. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Jack slowly comes to your side and puts his attention on you, watching as the snow continues to fall. “Yeah, the prettiest,” he says softly, desperately trying in vain to hold back on scooping you into his arms. There’s something scratching at the back of his throat.

You nod once again and zip up your coat. “They’re expecting me,” you say, gearing up to brave the snow.

“Do you need any-”

“No,” you cut him off. You’re not sure why it comes out so harshly, but you figure it must be a remnant of a memory you no longer have access to. “I can manage on my own.” You brush past him and open the front door, eyes momentarily clamping shut at how cold it is before you step onto the porch. The sound of the crunching snow is satisfying.

“Stay safe out there,” Jack says softly, not moving from his place as he continues to gaze out the window at the falling snow.

You turn your head briefly over your shoulder, “and you as well.”

Jack hears the door close and you walk off into the night, back to a group he was barred from. That tickling in the back of his throat grows more and more prevalent until he clears his throat. Feels like there’s something on his tongue. He coughs a few more times before holding his hands in front of his mouth, displeased to see the small blue petals he knows will bloom to full flowers in a time frame that is too long to be considered fair.

[dancingamongstdust]

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting Part 2

Hoodie

The area where you lived had a ton of back alleyways that acted as shortcuts in a pinch. They were generally safe but you often got an uncomfortable feeling when using them so you preferred to take the busier roads if you could.

Unfortunately, when you had gone to leave work that day, you had spotted the customer who had been harassing you the entire day. It wasn’t anything creepy but it was over-the-top persistent and you weren’t in the mood to deal with it. You slipped out the backdoor as a result. At least you’d get home sooner.

For the most part, you didn’t encounter anything too suspicious and the light from the streets illuminated where you were going.

The large bins outside the grocer’s home indicated that you were getting close. You sped up and rubbed your eyes blearily.

Ahead of you, a dog was barking from inside one of the buildings. It was a pretty noisy animal and you began peering around to see what the source of its agitation was. Ironically, you ended up bumping directly into him.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, rubbing your shoulder.

The guy was tall, wearing dark clothing and standing right in the shadows. You could have probably noticed him if you were a little more awake.

He turned and your breath caught.

His face was obscured by a dark mask with red features stitched onto it. His hoodie which originally seemed dark was now illuminated into a soft yellow or orange, stained with a dark substance.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. His voice crackled out, clearly coming through a voice changer of some kind.

“I – I was just taking a shortcut home. I live near here so I thought… I really didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m super tired.”

“Tired or not, you shouldn’t have seen me,” the guy said. “Do you have a phone or a camera?”

Slowly, you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. “I don’t have any cash in my wallet –“

“I don’t want your money!” he snapped. “I’m not some petty thief, believe me, I have better things to do with me time. Unlock this.”

You did so and he went through it with a gloved hand. He didn’t have a weapon but something in your gut warned you to just go along with it. Nobody covered up everything, including their voice, when they were up to something good. This guy may not be a thief… but the alternative didn’t feel too much better.

He shoved your phone back at you. “Get out of here and don’t breathe a word of this to anybody. Consider yourself lucky that I’m in a good mood today.”

You swallowed nervously. “Thank you?”

“I’m serious,” he warned. “I can let you go just because you seem pathetic enough to not take this to the police but unless you want to catch a bullet in your back, you’ll keep quiet. My boss doesn’t like people getting involved with this nonsense.”

“A bullet?”

He didn’t answer and your heart thundered in your chest. Part of you wondered if he was going to kill you while you ran away but his attention seemed to have moved away from you. You hurried away, holding your breath the entire time. Every time you glanced over your shoulder, the guy remained unmoving.

When you reached your home, you locked the door tightly and slumped against it in exhaustion.

Homicidal Liu

The sunset was beautiful over the graveyard – the only beauty to an otherwise morbid place.

You stared at the purples and oranges dancing across the sky. The wreath pricked at your hands after a while and you stared down at it. Why did you still bother with bringing flowers? Hadn’t it been long enough? Still, you made your way down to the grave and placed them there, not even bothering to read the name on there.

Lately, your graveyard visits had becoming fewer and fewer. Time hadn’t been on your side recently and thus, your precious solitude had to suffer. You relished in the way that nobody really bothered you here.

An orange glow warned you when the streetlights came on. Perhaps you had been there for longer than you thought but this was to be your last visit.

Better to make it count.

Something caught in the wind made you raise your head. A piece of fabric was stuck in the nearby fence, identifiable as a scarf when you ventured closer.

You took it from the fence and looked around for its owner. Nobody was in view… maybe it had been blown off one of the graves? It did seem homemade.

Guessing, you began to place it on a grave when a voice startled you.

“I’m sorry to bother but I think you have my scarf?”

The man was standing far too close for you to have not seen him when you were glancing around but you blamed that on your night vision. He wore dark clothing and seemed awkward just to be speaking to you.

“Thank goodness,” you said. “I was just going to leave it on one of the graves because I didn’t know who it belonged to.”

He thanked you for it, wrapping it around the lower half of his face almost immediately. “That would be a waste,” he said. “Especially to leave it on this one. Thank you for grabbing it.”

A harsh wind blew through the graveyard, carrying with it the smell of an incoming storm. He grabbed his scarf just in time to prevent it from going flying away again.

“Seems like the weather is determined to steal it from you.”

“Far more powerful things have tried.”

You buried yourself further into your jacket and smiled. “I haven’t seen you around before, are you new in town or just coming to visit a new grave?”

“I’m not visiting a grave,” he admitted. “I just thought that this would be the way back to my house… I grew up in this town but only recently moved back and I’m already lost. It’s a little embarrassing if I’m honest.”

“Well, I like to know everybody,” you said. “What’s your name?”

“Su – I mean, Liu,” he said. “Liu. Sorry, I nearly gave you my surname.”

You laughed. “Oh that’s no problem. It’s nice to meet you but I really like your name. Is it Chinese?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He looked around and began walking away. “I really have to go. Thank you for getting my scarf and all that.”

“I’ll see you around,” you said with a wave.

It was only later when you realised how suspicious that entire interaction was. You had never seen Liu before in your life and he was just hanging around in the graveyard? He hadn’t seemed too creepy at least. Maybe you would see more of him in the coming days.

Jane the Killer

It wasn’t that you were unobservant or inattentive toward girls but nobody had really caught your eye until Jane.

She was stunning in a way that few people could ever match with dark hair that tumbled past her hips and soulful eyes. Her walk was always confident, her smile always perfect, and her attention always desirable. Your main regret about life was that you didn’t speak to her sooner – especially when you thought back on what happened not too long after your first meeting.

You organised with your friends to somehow bump into her but instead, you wound up getting treated for a pretty painful bruised hip. Your second plan didn’t work out either and your third never even left the drawing board.

“Just go up to her and say hi. Tell her that she’s beautiful,” your friend encouraged. “She’ll say thanks and then you’ll be able to talk to her.”

“That’s so boring though,” you said. “It’s not like something out of a romance novel.”

Your friend groaned and stood up. “Well, I’m going home. We have like three months left of high school and I’m not going to spend that time obsessing over how to speak to a girl. She’s literally a regular person.”

They were right and you knew that. No matter how you tried to set up a sweeping romance, it probably wouldn’t work out.

So you tried.

And you tried.

Two weeks later, you were about to give up on mimicking a romance novel and it appeared that your friend was thinking the same thing. She grabbed your arm and began to drag you somewhere, muttering about changing the topic. You had a vague idea of where you were going but you didn’t fight too much.

“What if she’s still dating that Woods boy?” you asked. “The older one.”

“They broke up after literally a month of dating. I don’t blame her – those Woods boys are pretty enough but the older one has something seriously wrong with him. And the younger one is always talking to himself…”

“I really don’t care about the Woods’,” you commented.

“No, you care about Jane who is honestly quite weird as well,” they said. “But that is going to be your problem and not mine.”

They dragged you directly up to her group. It wasn’t large – despite Jane’s beauty, she wasn’t incredibly popular due to her associations. Your friend wasn’t the only one who was a little scared of the Woods boys and Jane had hung out with them for quite a while.

“Hey,” your friend said before even letting you go. “You have no idea who we are but my friend here has a massive crush on you. Could you please just say hi so they can get it out of their system?”

You were sure that it was unhealthy to be as red as you were. It felt like your heart was about to leap from your chest.

Jane laughed, a soft and gentle sound. “I’m not really interested in a relationship,” she hummed. “But thank you. That’s very flattering.”

Somehow, your heart sped up still and you awkwardly rubbed your arm. “No problem?”

“Why don’t you join us for a little bit?” Jane offered. “Just because I don’t want to date anybody doesn’t mean that we can’t become friends. You look like my kind of person.”

You stumbled over your words but somehow, your conversation managed to go extremely well. Jane was brilliant in every possible way and you quickly grew attached to seeing her every day. That was why you mourned so greatly when she died.

Jason the Toymaker

The sun was so warm against your skin. You could stay there forever, stretched out on the grass and basking in the sunlight.

“It’s done,” your friend’s voice broke through your daydreaming

You opened your eyes and rolled over to see exactly what they had been working on for the entire trip. After realising the first few times that you weren’t going to get a reaction, you had decided to wait for them to finish working before you tried to have a conversation.

“I didn’t know you could draw,” you said. “That’s amazing.”

The hyper-realistic man was sketched to perfection with a top hat, a fur coat, and a small mouse sitting on his left shoulder. It felt like his eyes could piece into your soul.

“Who is that?” you asked them.

They stared blankly at the image and shook their head. “I don’t know,” they said. “He’s been in my dreams for so long. I think it has something to do with my amnesia. Maybe I knew him once before.”

“He’s a little intimidating,” you said. “I could imagine him to be a ringleader in a circus that’s like a secret cult. Maybe he’s why you lost your memory.”

“Maybe…” they said, tapping the picture. They suddenly shoved it into your chest and stood up. “You keep that. I don’t want it anywhere near me. I need to go talk to my parents.”

You watched them race out of the park in confusion. The man in the picture stared up at you with haunting eyes.

Folding it in half so it didn’t freak you out, you stood and dusted off your clothing. Maybe it would be best if you headed home. It was getting late either way.

Later on, you’d call your friend and check up on them.

About 10 minutes away from your house, the feeling of being watched snuck up on you. It hung heavily around your shoulders like a cloak. You glanced around but saw nobody.

Still, you didn’t feel comfortable leading whoever was following you back to your house. You made a point of walking amongst large crowds and headed for the police station.

They were watching you the whole way.

You sped up. A few people bumped into you and you apologised as best as you could. Your grip on the picture was getting tighter enough for you to tear it. The later it got, the fewer people were on the streets and so you were pretty much alone when you bumped into him.

It took you a few seconds to recognise the man from the drawing.

If you thought his drawn eyes were captivating, they had nothing on his real ones which glowed with an almost ethereal light.

“You’re him,” you breathed.

He stared at you, smile falling from his face in confusion. “Who?”

You shakily held out the drawing and he yanked it from your hands. “My friend drew that,” you explained. “They said that its of somebody from their past. They have amnesia you see.”

He was unmoving as he studied the picture. You began feeling a little uncomfortable and then his gaze snapped to you. “Is that so?” he asked.

You nodded and took a small step away from him. “Maybe you should go and talk to them? See –“ you swallowed nervously. “See if you can help them remember?”

“No need,” he said, dropping the paper on the ground. “Who are you?”

Your name came out as little more than a soft whisper. Something about the entire scenario made you uneasy. His appearance was too unnatural.

A gust of wind came by, picking up the drawing and whipping it away. You watched it go and when you looked back down, his eyes were locked on you.

“Such a pity,” he said. “You would have been the perfect doll.”

Wearily, you took a step backwards. His words made your stomach churn uneasily. “What are you talking about?”

He smiled. It was kind and warm but it only made you more nervous. His eyes looked like they had almost changed colour; shifted a shade darker than previously. “Thinking aloud my dear,” he said.

“About dolls?” you asked.

He tilted his head a little towards you. “I’m going to have to bid you goodbye. It seems I have other matters to attend to.” He brushed past you, stopping briefly when directly next to you. “Consider yourself lucky.”

He was gone before you could even spin around to face him.

Jeff the Killer

Pausing the song, you removed your earphones as quietly as possible and placed them down on your desk. According to the blinking numbers on your phone screen, it was nearing 2 AM. Far too late for anybody to make an excess of noise.

You listened closely. The music had been too loud for you to hear anything and you almost brushed the strange noise off as your sleep-deprived imagination. Until something squeaked like shoe soles on tiles.

In retrospect, you should have immediately called 911 but you didn’t want to sound a false alarm.

The light switch was thankfully directly outside your room. The hall illuminated most of the house when they were on and it steeled your nerves. Your roommate’s door was open, allowing you to confirm their sleeping state, curled up in their bed amongst the piles of mess. They had had to move to the spare room due to a faulty window earlier in the day and had clearly given up sorting items.

You glanced into the apartment’s other rooms before heading to the kitchen. There was nothing odd. The scuttling when you entered the kitchen just suggested that your neighbour’s rat infestation may be migrating.

Making a mental note to call the exterminator, you turned to switch off the kitchen light.

Something slammed into you, forcing your back to collide with a wall. A hand covered your mouth and the overwhelming scent of blood and decay invaded your nose. Something cold and sharp pressed against your neck.

“Shut up and stay still,” the man snarled at you. “I don’t think anybody will appreciate you getting blood in the kitchen.”

Your heart leapt into your throat and your body stilled. The man in front of you was terrifying. His skin pale and mutilated. Eyes far too wide for a normal person and dancing with an insanity that sent chills down your spine.

And his mouth… a bloody smile carved across his face, stretching halfway to his ears.

He studied your face carefully and his expression twisted. “You’re not the right one,” he snapped. The knife moved away from your neck, so he could point with it. “I had this all planned and yet when I came into that room, I found it empty. Why?”

Even if he hadn’t been holding your mouth shut, you doubted you would have been able to formulate an answer. The pounding heartbeat in your ears was nearly blocking out his voice.

He lightly tapped your cheek with his knife. “Not that it matters,” he said. “I’ll just have to adapt my original plan. You’re not the right target but I’m a huge fan of collateral damage.”

A small whimper escaped you and tears welled at your eyes. You didn’t want to die.

“Don’t blubber!” he ordered. “View it as a good thing. You’ll be all over the news. Another victim of Jeff the Killer. Hell, you might even be added to a Wikipedia page or something.”

You could recall that name from the news. Often followed by a lengthy list of deaths and the police chief begging for any information about the murderer.

Jeff stared at you for a long minute before he pressed the knife’s blade to your throat and moved his hand away from your mouth. “Scream and I will remove your vocal cords,” he threatened. “Who are you?”

It took several deep breaths and a flicker of impatience in his expression to give you the ability to talk again. You stammered out your full name as quickly as you possibly could.

He rolled his eyes and tilted the knife so it scratched your skin. A sticky and warm substance ran down your throat in small droplets. “Pathetic.”

“Sorry,” you whispered on instinct. “Please don’t kill me.”

“Why not?” he asked. “You ruined my earlier plans to take out my original target by interrupting me before I could find them. Why shouldn’t I settle for you instead?”

You didn’t have an answer.

He took the blade away from your throat. “If you call the police and report what happened here tonight, I will slice you into little pieces.”

It was almost twenty minutes after he left before you regained any movement in your body. You slumped into a heap on the kitchen floor and started sobbing.

Kagekao

Things had been going missing around your house.

Initially, you had thought it was just due to you forgetting where you’d plopped things because it was simple things. Drinks that vanished, keys turning up on the opposite side of the house, and random spills that you didn’t remember making.

But then it started getting weirder still.

You would make food and pack it away, knowing that you would eat it later, and find it gone. Picture frames disappeared, never to be seen again. Your rug half-unraveled during the night and you found it in a pile the next morning. A candle in your bathroom fell over and, somehow, the curtains on the other side of the house had caught alight.

It was suspicious, to say the very least. You began to think that you had some kind of intruder – once, the news reported that a woman found a homeless man living in her attic and eating her food when she wasn’t looking.

So you went out and bought cameras, setting them up throughout your house.

For two weeks, they caught nothing until one of them ended up breaking. You went to get it repaired and the company managed to recover what it had last seen. Which was nothing on your first glance.

But you were soon to realise, that was only because you had been looking at the floor.

While you were rewatching when you got home, you noticed something. The window was sitting wide open and the camera’s angle only allowed you to see half of it. Right toward the end of the feed, a gloved hand appeared on the side of the window and a slight shadow indicated something climbing through.

So you got reinforced windows and made sure that none were open unless you were in the room.

Things still continued happening.

You were beginning to get really annoyed by this. It was tempting to go to the police and let them just handle it but that was going to be a lot of effort that you really didn’t care for. You didn’t feel like you were in much danger. Nothing had happened in your bedroom.

Your next plan was to set up a trap of some kind. With a hidden camera set up, you made extra food and left it on the counter to see if something happened.

The next day, you watched as a plastic toy of some kind was thrown directly into the plate from somewhere off-camera, breaking it and leaving an absolute mess everywhere.

Still not considering it to be anything dangerous, you just cleaned up the mess and loudly cursed out anybody who was listening. You stalked the house after that, searching every nook and cranny with a bat in hand. The final place was the closet in your bedroom and you peered in, expecting nothing.

When you turned around though, you spotted something sitting in the corner of the room.

It was humanoid with arms twisted into awkward positions and a mask on its face. Half the mask was black and the other white, both sides bearing an unnaturally smiling expression. The creature cackled when you saw it and scuttled out of the door, stuck to the roof the entire time.

A second passed.

Then another.

You pinched your arm hard and waited to wake up. Surely there was no way… I mean, why would… humans didn’t generally crawl along the ceiling? Well, you were quite sure they never did that. You must have been imagining it.

A second laugh corrected you on that.

You swallowed thickly, walked over to your door as calmly as possible and locked it. Then you took out your phone and finally called the police.

Kate the Chaser

The day when Kate was sent away remained very clear in your mind. It was a moment that brought extremely change to your life, mixing up your friend group and sending you in a different direction.

The years has passed and you had never gotten over your best friend. They said that she had lost her mind and you knew it was true. All those games investigating the woods and ghost hunting must have put a toll on her mind. Sometimes, you blamed yourself for all the pranks and you knew that Lauren had similar doubts.

And now she was back.

Lauren and you hadn’t remained close, the entire situation feeling too real with one another. Your greeting was stilted but neither of you wanted to be the first to approach the house.

“Do you think that she remembers us?” Lauren asked.

“If she didn’t then her mom wouldn’t have invited us over,” you said.

You stood in complete silence, staring up at the house. Would you even recognise Kate? The last time that you had seen her was when you were both young children and her face remained at that age in your memories.

Eventually, you gained your confidence before Lauren and you walked over, knocking on the door before anxiety could find you.

Kate answered the door and you forgot why you had ever been nervous.

Time had slimmed her face and shortened her hair. Her eyes were still a gentle brown and the cockiness had faded from her smile, but it was recognisable from your nostalgia. It made you feel warm and known – an aura that you had missed without even realising it.

“Hi,” you greeted.

Kate pulled you into a tight hug and you returned it, clutching at her tightly as though she could slip through your fingers. It really had been too long and when you moved away, she held onto Lauren with the same enthusiasm.

“How have you been?” she asked. “You have to tell me everything.”

The three of you spent the rest of the afternoon having tea and just talking about the world at large. Kate didn’t have many stories from the hospital – she claimed it was because the place had been extremely boring and neither of you pushed to find out more about it. Honestly, it was more comfortable to act as though she had simply moved away.

Lauren had to leave first and you were going to go with her but Kate had looked so down that you remained just a little longer. That was when things got weird.

“I’ve missed music a lot,” Kate sighed.

“Did they not allow you to listen to music?”

She grimaced. “No, they did but often I couldn’t hear it over the static. Its mostly gone away now but it came back last night… it fills my brain and all that I can think of is a way to make the pain stop.”

The colour drained from your face as you stared at her. You didn’t know much about what happened to her but you had thought she would be okay now.

Realising it, Kate hurried to reassure you, “I really have recovered,” she said. “My hallucinations have faded and my medication keeps my emotions in check. You really don’t have to be scared of me.”

You stared down at your cup awkwardly. “I’m not scared of you,” you reassured her. “You’ve never done anything to me.”

She nodded. “It will be alright, you’ll see. I’m ready to get back to a normal life with my friends and not have to worry about that ghost stuff ever again.”

Laughing Jack

It was on your leg…

The glare you fixed the small child with could wilt plants. It didn’t care though and merely clutched at your clothing with a happy smile. “Come play with me?” it asked. “I can introduce you to all my friends!”

“How old is she again?” you grumbled at your friend.

Your friend laughed and ruffled their cousin’s hair. “I had an imaginary friend when I was 10. She’s only 6, she’s still at the stage where they’re a big deal.”

The child was oblivious to your conversation and reached out her arms. “Come on. The parents are being boring. I have candy that my friend gave me. We can share it.”

“I agreed to come along to your family get together to keep you company,” you said to your friend. “You know I don’t like children. Babysitting really isn’t my forte.”

All you received for your complaining was laughter.

By the time you had the 4th teddy bear had been introduced, you were done. Why did one kid have so many toys?

“Now which one of your friends gives you candy?” your friend asked. “Because if it’s from Princess, I don’t think it’s edible. What if she secretly puts glitter in it?”

Expected to play along, you sighed. “Unless it’s glitter from rainbows because then it’s got magic powers and allows you to fly.”

The child liked your thumb-sucked statement because she jumped up in excitement. “I don’t get it from Princess. Jack gives it to me! But if Princess can make me fly, I want to have that kind of candy instead!”

“Which one’s Jack again?” you asked, eyeing the line of toys.

“He’s not here right now,” the child said, biting her inner cheek. She turned in a circle. “Sometimes he hides in the cupboard though!” She ran over to her cupboard and pulled the doors open. “I don’t think – OW!”

She reeled backwards, clutching her cheek. Both you and your friend immediately jumped up and ran over to her. A tiny slice mark ran across the side of her face. It wasn’t anything serious, but she was sobbing as though it would kill her. You presumed a small edge on one of the boxes in the cupboard had been the cause.

“Do you want me to take you to mom, so she can kiss it better?” your friend asked. “Your new best friend can wait here and make sure all your toys are safe.”

The child nodded, and she got led out of the room. You rolled your eyes at the sensitivity and reached into the cupboard to push the box out of the way. A clawed hand reached out of nowhere and grabbed your wrist tightly.

Before you could even shout, it lifted you off the ground by your arm and a second hand had wrapped around your mouth.

The monster’s body appeared out of the closet.

It was a clown. Easily 7ft tall and comprised of monochrome colours with a sharp, pointed nose and long, greasy hair. Its black lips spread into a smile, revealing pointed teeth and a sickeningly sweet breath.

You writhed against its grip, trying to scream or do anything but it was insanely strong, and it just laughed at your efforts.

“How mean,” it purred, leaning in close to your face. “You ask who I am and then, when I appear to you, you insult my appearance. Awful etiquette. Your parents should be concerned about how rude you are to strangers.”

You strained your memory to think about what you had been doing before it grabbed you but the adrenaline was clouding your mind. What had you asked? You struggled more with the lack of memories.

The clown shook its head. “I haven’t revealed myself to somebody so old in a long time. You should be flattered but instead you choose to try and kick me. This is why I don’t do this. Children are far more polite.”

He released you suddenly and you landed hard on the ground. It winked and disappeared, right as your friend and her cousin returned.

“You met Jack!” the child shouted excitedly, pointing to the candy lying next to you.

You shoved it away from you as quickly as possible.

[quillsanddaydreams]

what great men say

james potter x reader

—author’s note: I was extremely soft about James and just how goofy he is around his friends and I just had to write it down. So what does being friends with James and eventually falling for him include? Enjoy!

—warning(s): mentions of food, she/her pronouns!reader 

—wordcount: 3,196

You sighed looking at the time. He would be here any minute— he never came late. Tapping your foot, you turned your attention to the book open in front of you. Transfiguration. The subject that you struggled with the most. James excelled at it. 

The turtle he transformed the teacup into that day was stunning. Popping its head inside the green-gold shell as everyone looked on. James smiled teasingly wide when McGonagall had commended him. No one noticed when he shifted aside to talk to the turtle in a baby voice. It made you smile. You blinked. Words swirled on the page you’d opened. Shaking your head, you turned to concentrate on them.

“There you are!” James shouted as the librarian shot him a glare. He was huffing— apparently from running to the library. He made an apologetic face and slowly came and plopped down beside you.

“Do you always have to be loud?” you said as he playfully rolled his eyes.

“Well, a great man once said loudness is the way of life,” he huffed, breathing deeply as you raised an eyebrow.

“And is this great man you?”

“Are you saying anything to the contrary?”

You let a small smile play on your lips which etched his grin further.

“I wouldn’t dare,” you said as he adjusted his collar, looking smug.

“I mean, even great men tell the turtle they made from a teacup that it is a good boy,” you said nonchalantly, opening a notebook. James flustered.

“I didn’t tell Jake he was a good boy,” he murmured.

“Jake, huh?”

“Shut it.”

The two of you spend the next hour working on the transfiguration assignment. James was patient as he helped you through spells and theory. You laughed, studied and talked. It was just like that between you two. You were good friends, you teased each other, pulled a few pranks and had fun. There was something about him that made you open up more than anyone else. And you loved him. It was stupid really. 

James was utterly and completely in love with Lily Evans. Everyone knew that. You tried and you tried to push it back but you couldn’t help it. It crept up upon you- he had always been so kind to you, so adorably cute that you just fell for him. As torturous as it was, you didn’t dare to even hint him about it. Listening to him gush about the perfect head-girl, you never let your smile fade even if it never reached your eyes. 

James poked your side as you packed your books.

“Hmm?”

“Lily and I talked a lot last night,” he said excitedly as your chest contracted. You zipped up your bag, hanging it by your side.

“Oh yeah?” you asked, plastering on a smile. The two of you started moving out of the library.

“It was amazing,” He said, punctuating each word, a dreamy look on his face. “She told me about her muggle life- records, music tapes- that sort of stuff. She was surprised when I talked to her about Queen and Beatles, impressed even.”

He scratched the back of his head, narrowly avoiding a first year who ran past the two of you.

“Couldn’t tell her you introduced it to us and it’s what Sirius blasts in the room all day long.”

You giggled.

“Did he listen to all of them already?” you asked, desperate to change topics. The two of you turned around the corner. James scoffed.

“Pretty sure he heard each of them at least a hundred times.”

“It’s good music James,” you sighed. “Ask him whether he’s free next Hogsmeade weekend, I’ll show him a place he’s going to adore.”

“Ah, I have some head-boy duties with Lily, Remus is helping Slughorn for extra credit and Peter is practicing astronomy,” James said as you furrowed your eyebrows.

“So Sirius is free?”

“Yes, but we aren’t,” James shrugged as you laughed.

“Okay,” you dragged on, not sure where the conversation was going. “Ask him if he’d like to go with me?”

James turned to you, confused.

“You’ll go with Sirius, alone?” he asked as you hummed in response, shrugging. He scowled.

You turned back at James standing at the door to the common room.

“Tomorrow, same time?” you asked with a smile. He nodded giving you a half-hearted grin and moving towards his room. Did you say something wrong? Shaking your head, you retreated to your dorm.

-♡♡♡-

A loud knock shook you. You looked towards the window and… James?

“James what the hell are you doing there?” you asked, jolting towards the sill and unlocking it. The idiot was standing a broom nearly forty feet above ground.

“I was wondering whether you’d join us all for a trip to the kitchens?” he breathed, a small smile playing on his lips. You heard snorts making you look down at the ground. Sirius, Remus and Peter were rolling out in laughter, but you couldn’t think much about that.

“Are you insane? Bloody sit down on your broom or come in,” you said eyes wide.

“Fine, I’m coming.” James grinned, jumping inside. He grabbed your arms almost falling over you. A strong perfume attacked your senses. His face was so close to yours, you could count the faint freckles on his face. Messy strands of hair fell over his forehead making you want to run your hands over them. You blinked, steading yourself before taking a step back. James coughed.

“Um, I was sneaking out for some hot chocolate,” he said placing his hands in his jeans’ pocket, thumbs out. “I remember you complaining we never took you.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “Let me just get my jacket, it’s kinda cold.”

Grabbing the nearest jacket, you put it on as James stared around your room. You had decorated it beautifully. Post cards, quotes and some letters were put up on a wall on the far end. His eyes fell on you as you turned to him smiling, ready to leave. He gulped.

“How are we leaving?” you asked and James gestured to his broom floating outside your window.

After much bickering, you found yourself sitting behind James, holding onto him for your dear life. That wasn’t to say you didn’t enjoy it. It felt good being so close to him, having your hands around his waist. You almost felt sad when you reached down. Sirius smirked at you as you climbed off the broom. He knew more than he probably should.

“What took you so long?” Peter complained. You saw Sirius open his mouth to say something but closed it on seeing your glare. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder.

“Well now that she’s here, shall we?” he said leading you ahead of the group.

James frowned at the two of you. Sirius whispered something in your ear making you roll your eyes playfully.

“What’s made you so off now?” Peter asked. Remus patted his shoulder.

“Jealousy is always a bad colour on people my dear wormtail,” Remus said dramatically. James raised it eyebrows.

“I’m not jealous,” James said pointedly and then shrugged. “What would I be jealous of?”

Remus rolled his eyes.

“Sureeee.”

You took in the warm room while the boys asked for hot chocolates for all of you. Sweet smell of banana bread and muffins eloped the kitchen. Remus called for you, handing you a steaming mug of cocoa. You sat down beside James tuning in to their conversation. He gave you a small smile as Remus and Peter quarrelled about their divination predictions. You laughed and you talked, feeling the week’s tension slowly slip off your shoulders. When it was time to leave, you felt oddly content. Making them promise to make this a monthly thing, you finally turned to leave. James held you back.

“I was wondering, if you’d like to have a bit more fun?” James asked, biting his lip. “Just us two.”

You looked at him curiously and licked your lip.

“And what will this fun, entail?”

“There’s this small place near the edge of forbidden forest,” he said and you raised an eyebrow. “I swear it’s not that dangerous. It’s honestly beautiful.”

James didn’t know why he was so bent over to spend some more time with you. All he knew was that he didn’t want the evening to end. He didn’t want to leave you just yet. So when you nodded slowly, he couldn’t stop the grin that spread on his face.

The two of you tip-toed through the castle, James’s invisibility cloak with him just in case. Checking the map, he turned towards you. Taking your hand in his; he whispered, “Run.”

Your eyes widened. James sprinted forward, taking you with him. There was no time to think. Trying to keep up with him— you made your way through the grounds, the air icy against your face. You were huffing by the time you reached the lip of the forest.

“What exactly were we running from?” you asked, taking in gulps of air.

“No one— we were taking too much time,” he said shrugging. “And adrenaline always feels good.”

He didn’t notice you glaring at him. You slapped his arm playfully.

“Hey—” he groaned, rubbing at the spot.

“Now that you’ve wounded me, shall we?”

You nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. Placing his palms on your shoulder James turned you, leading you towards a small clearing. Your arms erupted in goosebumps, feeling him right behind you. His breath tickled your neck. Did he really not know the effect he had on you? Reaching there, James gestured around dramatically. Fireflies buzzed around the area and the ground bloomed with wild flowers.

“Wow,” you gasped. James watched you, his face lighting up. Running your hands through the shrubs you looked up. Night sky was always clear at Hogwarts. But somehow it seemed even more beautiful then. You glanced towards James catching him staring.

“See something you like?”

“You look beautiful,” James uttered before he could stop himself. Your cheeks heated up.

You did. You looked gorgeous every single day. James swallowed, a distinct blush covering his cheeks. He felt your gaze on him, waiting for him to say something. He heard you sigh after a little while.

“You know, when I was small, I used to collect fireflies in a jar,” you said, sitting down slowly. James joined you. “Pretty little things they were. I would stare at them for hours. Mum hated them. Dad didn’t seem to mind. They would zoom around in the jar and I would take it in hand running through the house saying they were my army. Danger shall befall those who cross me— I used to say”

James let out a laugh, sighing as you both watched the stars. Sneaking a glance at him, you caught him doing the same. Light from flies lighted up his face, his brown eyes sparkling. You didn’t know who leaned in. His lips were soft against yours as you let your hands tangle in his hair. His arms went to your waist, tugging you towards him. The kiss seemed to light you up. Pulling back breathless you stared at him, seeing something that made your stomach. Guilt. You dug your nails into your palm, waiting for the excuses to come. And it came. He called out your name.

“Don’t.” You snapped.

Scrambling to your feet, you started moving back towards the castle. James followed you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think. I don’t know what happened and I—”

You twisted towards him.

“I’m not angry at you James,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. James frowned. “I— I just like you, okay? I’ve liked you for quite some time.”

James’ eyes widened a little. You let out a laugh, looking away.

“I’m not angry at you. I’m angry at myself. Do you realise how pathetic it is, to love someone knowing they’ll never love you back?  Every day I’ll tell myself; it doesn’t matter. That it’s a crush and it’ll go away. And every day I fall a little more in love with you knowing you’ll never feel the same.”

Silence fell around you and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You felt cold. James watched you, desperate to reach out. He wanted to stop you but he didn’t know how. All he could do was listen.

“I think, I think it’ll be better for me to stay away from you for a while,” you breathed, trying your best not to let the tears in your eyes fall.

You walked back to the castle leaving James alone. A tear fell down his face and he furiously wiped it off.

-♡♡♡-

The next few days seemed never-ending. Classes, homework and head-boy duties kept James busy. He practiced harder and longer on the field. But his mind wasn’t in it. It was full with the thoughts of you. He tried. He really tried to reach out to you somehow. To catch your eye during classes, give you a small smile, but you hardly even glanced at him. It hurt. More than he could ever care to admit. He had quite forgotten what it was like not to spend time together every single day. To not listen to you complain about your day, hear your laugh. He felt alone.

Bacon and eggs were laid out in front of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat. He toyed it around with his fork.

“Ahhh James! Just the person I was looking for,” Lily said with a bright smile as James looked towards her. “I was thinking maybe you could join me after lunch? We can review the prefect rounds’ details.”

James furrowed his eyebrows.

“Didn’t we do that last week?”

Lily’s expression fell, but she covered it up quickly.

“Yes we did, but I thought maybe we could go over them again?” she said expectantly.

“Uh- sure.” He said, moving his attention back to his plate. He pushed it away.

Sirius, Peter and Remus raised their eyebrows at him. James looked at them questioningly.

“Are you dead?” Remus asked.

“No?”

“Yeah I think he’s dead.” Sirius pipped in. James opened his mouth to retort but Sirius bet him to it.

“Look, I know finding out your friend is in love with you while you think you’re in love with someone else isn’t easy—”

“Especially when you’re actually in love with the said friend," Peter said, taking a bite of his toast. James opened his mouth.

“Especially then —but you gotta make up your mind. Go date Lily and find out how worthless it is and then go back to friend or go now and talk to her and tell her what you really feel about her.”

James blinked.

“I’m not in love with her,” he said slowly as they collectively groaned. He ignored them. “And how did you know that she told me she likes me?”

“It was obvious?” Sirius said as Remus rolled his eyes.

“You know what? Let him continue his idiocy for more. I want to see how long this can actually go on,” Remus said as others hummed in response, shrugging.

“What? You’re not even going to listen to me now?” James stated as his friends paid no attention.

“Not when you’re being a dumbass, no.”

James banged his head on the table. Remus continued to read his book while Sirius and Peter concentrated on their breakfast.

“What if, what if I said,” James began slowly. “That maybe I do love her. I do love her and I was the biggest fool in the world and screwed this up beyond repair?”

Remus stared at James, a small smile overcoming his features.

“You tell her exactly that.”

-♡♡♡-

You sighed turning the page. The story was captivating at first, but now— not so much. There was a knock at the window and you turned to see… James? Your heart thumped against your chest. He stood there, probably on his broomstick waiting for you to let him in. Pushing the covers aside, you got up and opened the small lock as James hopped in. Your chest clenched seeing him for the first time in weeks. You had missed him. His hair was disheveled and he fidgeted awkwardly, staring at you.

“James why are you here?” you asked softly. You wanted nothing more than to hug him. But you held back. You couldn’t do that to yourself, not anymore.

“I— um— I wanted to tell you something,” he said as you gestured at him to go on. There was silence.

“Well?”

James flushed, looking down.

“I— I had this whole speech prepared and now I forgot what I was supposed to say,” he said and you looked at him curiously. “I know it starts with me saying I might be the biggest dumbass at Hogwarts.”

“That I can agree on,” you pointed out, a small grin evident on your face. James cracked a smile hearing you tease him after weeks. Somehow, he never minded it when it was you. There was silence again, but this time it felt calmer.

“You see? I had a fascination with this red-headed girl,” he whispered. Your throat bobbed. He was here to talk about Lily? “This fiery girl who rejected me every time I asked her out. And my fascination just grew. So much that I couldn’t even notice myself falling for someone else. Someone who’d been an amazing friend.”

Your eyes snapped towards him and he gave you a light smile.

“I don’t love Lily. I don’t. And I hate myself for not realizing it. But even more than that I hate myself for turning you away. I’m sorry,” he said as you sniffed, letting his words soak in. He loved you, not Lily. You knew you must be looking like an idiot then, giddiness blooming through your body.

“Are you sure this isn’t the speech you prepared?” you said as James chuckled. He shook his head.

“My prepared speech was written by a great man and it did not end with an apology.”

“Oh? What did that great man end the speech with?” you said, joy evident on James’ face. He was enjoying this.

“Asking you out,” he said cheekily and you let out a snort.

“Well, that’s a let down,” you said, putting on a disappointed expression, noticing James furrowing his brows. “I was hoping the speech would end in some kisses; after all, don—"

You couldn’t finish the sentence as James pulled you closer by your waist and pressed his lips against yours. You sighed, tugging him closer by his neck. Pulling back, you rested your forehead against his taking deep breaths.

“I fucking love you,” James said, cradling your face and starting to press kisses all over. You giggled.

“I love you too. Tell that great man I’d like to go out with him this Hogsmeade weekend, will you?” you said as James let out a laugh.

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

[intheticklecloset]

Sibling Bonding (My Hero Academia)

This fic was purchased from my Coffee Shop Wish List by a generous supporter. Thank you!

Primary Universe

Summary: Spring break has arrived, and Todoroki heads home to spend some time with his older siblings since Endeavor is out of town. When he accidentally reveals that he's ticklish, things take a giggly turn very quickly!

A/N: YES I'm so excited to share this one! Earlier this year somebody suggested a Todoroki siblings fic, which I declined at the time because I didn't feel like I'd be able to do it justice. Later I felt more confident and put it on my Wish List, and now it's been purchased for your reading pleasure! Enjoy! ^^

Word Count: 1,915

~~~

“I’m here,” Todoroki announced without flourish as he entered his home for the first time in months, kicking off his shoes in the entryway.

Fuyumi poked her head around the corner from the kitchen where she was working on dinner. “Welcome back, Shoto.”

"Thanks.” Todoroki shrugged off his backpack and entered the kitchen, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He felt awkward, but did his best to ignore it. “It smells great. What is it?”

“Soba.”

He blinked at her. “You…didn’t have to go out of your way for me.”

“It’s no trouble at all. It’s your favorite food, right? I wanted to make today special. It’s the first day of your spring break and you’re spending it with us!” Fuyumi smiled at him. “I want you to have a great time.”

Todoroki nodded at her. “Thank you for cooking.”

“Of course. Natsuo should be here any minute. You can take a seat in the dining room if you want. We can talk easier that way.”

“Okay.”

But instead, he leaned against a counter she didn’t appear to be using, putting his hands in his pockets. His first instinct was to cross his arms, but he didn’t want to come across as grumpy or ungrateful. He was truly happy to be here, finally able to spend time with his siblings without the presence of his father to ruin his mood.

It had been Fuyumi’s idea. Endeavor was out of the prefecture on business, which left her and Natsuo home alone for the first time in a while. That, and it was spring break for U.A., which meant Todoroki was free to come over and hang out with them without having to get permission to leave the campus. Fuyumi had quickly arranged for this first day to be spent having dinner together.

“So…” his sister said after a brief pause. “How’s school going?”

*

A couple of hours later, dinner was over, the dishes were in the dishwasher, and the Todoroki siblings sat around in the living room staring at each other awkwardly. None of them really knew how to proceed.

Still, Natsuo tried. “So, uh, Shoto. What kind of stuff do you like to do?”

Todoroki knew what he meant. What should we do now that dinner’s over? He thought for a moment. “Well…my friends and I play Mario Kart a lot, I guess.”

Fuyumi perked up. “You like video games?”

“They’re fine.”

“Well, we don’t have Mario Kart,” Natsuo said, “but we do have the latest Mario Party game. Do you want to try that?”

“Sure.”

Todoroki helped his siblings set up the game, then selected Yoshi as his character and proceeded to inadvertently dominate both of them as time went on. He won several mini-games and always seemed to get to the star first, no matter the circumstances. He honestly couldn’t tell if he was really good, or if his siblings were just really bad. Or both.

“Jeez, Shoto!” Natsuo finally exclaimed after the youngest sibling got his fifth star – three ahead of Fuyumi, who had two. He nudged Todoroki, his elbow pressing into his ribs. “Give us a chance to catch up!”

Todoroki giggled.

The room went silent for a moment.

“Shoto?” Fuyumi asked, staring at him incredulously. “Are you okay?”

Todoroki knew he was blushing and he wished desperately that he could have held in his reaction better than that. But it was too late now, and he knew it. He sighed. “Yes, I’m fine. Natsuo nudged me and it…it tickled. That’s all.”

Natsuo’s eyes lit up. “You’re ticklish? Really?”

“Nat,” Fuyumi warned.

Todoroki hesitated. Game forgotten now, he glanced between his siblings on either side of him and struggled to decide how he wanted to proceed. He knew they wouldn’t touch him without permission – knowing what he’d gone through with their father kept them from doing that much, at least. But he didn’t want to brush them off, either. As it happened, he did enjoy being tickled to an extent, but he’d never been tickled by family before.

“I…um…” he swallowed, heart racing. What would they think if they knew the other half of it, too? That he enjoyed doing the tickling?

Fuyumi reached out as though to put a hand on his shoulder, then stopped herself. “Shoto, it’s okay. We won’t tickle you if you don’t want us to. Right, Nat?”

“Definitely not.” His brother was surprisingly emphatic, nodding. “I was just surprised to learn you were, that’s all. If you don’t like it I’m not going to tickle you just for the sake of it.”

“I…I do like it.” Todoroki mumbled, setting his controller down, hoping that would be enough invitation for them. “My friends tickle me quite a lot, actually. It’s fun. As long as you stop when I ask you to.”

Natsuo grinned, setting his controller down, too. “So you don’t automatically say ‘stop’ when you’re being tickled, huh, Sho? That’s interesting.” He poked him in the ribs again. “Cute, too.”

Todoroki smiled, pulling away only the tiniest bit.

“Fuyumi? I think we have some long overdue sibling bonding to catch up on.”

She beamed. “I totally agree.”

And that was it. The next thing he knew, Todoroki had been tackled to the floor, fingers digging into his ribs and sides and belly in rapid succession, giggles bubbling up out of him quicker than he had time to process. He squealed and curled up, but did his best not to push them away. He also never said a word of protest.

“Aww, you really do like it, don’t you?” Fuyumi cooed, wiggling her fingers up into his underarm. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~”

Todoroki yelped, his whole body jerking when she found one of his hot spots, and his squirming became near-thrashing when she realized what she’d done and continued to do it. Natsuo laughed, grabbing his wrists and pulling them above his head with little resistance, giving their sister full access to his armpits.

Fuyumi dug in, smiling wide as her youngest brother tossed his head back and laughed freely, eyes squeezed shut and teeth showing as he beamed happily, legs kicking behind her. “Aw, is this a good spot, Sho? Does it tickle really bad here?”

“YEHEHEHEHEHEHES!!” he cried, arching his back as she raked her nails from his underarms to his hips, searching for another hot spot. “GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! CAHAHAHAREFUL!!”

“I will be,” she promised.

“I want in on the fun, too!” Natsuo declared, shifting so he was sitting on Todoroki’s arms, pinning them above his head while he leaned down to pinch at his ribs and sides, sometimes scribbling along his neck and ears as well.

Todoroki dissolved into giggles, flustered beyond belief but still enjoying himself. Then Fuyumi squeezed his thigh experimentally, and he screeched with a new round of fresh laughter, shaking his head. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Ooh, another bad spot?” she teased, squeezing gently, drawing loud laughter from him every time. “You’re really ticklish, aren’t you, Sho?”

“I KNOHOHOHOHOHOW!!” he laughed, digging his heels into the carpeted floor. “PLEASE, IT TIHIHIHIHIHICKLES A LOHOHOHOHOHOT!!”

“Are you still okay?” she asked. “Do you want us to stop?”

Todoroki whined but shook his head. “I’M FIHIHIHIHIHINE!!”

“Fuyumi, I want a turn!” Natsuo complained, releasing Todoroki’s arms and shuffling down to join her. “Let me try some spots! Don’t take all the fun of experimenting away from me.”

“Fine, fine, you big baby,” she shot back playfully, scribbling lightly over Todoroki’s sides and belly. “Go on, try his knees and feet.”

Todoroki couldn’t help the sound that escaped him at the mention of his feet being one of the next targets. He slapped his hands over his mouth the instant it was out, but it was too late.

“Oh? None of that,” Fuyumi admonished gently, pulling his hands away from his mouth and down to his sides, straddling him, pinning them in place as she danced her fingers over his ribs, occasionally sneaking into his underarms as well.

“I’m not getting anything here,” Natsuo said, squeezing Todoroki’s knees but not getting any kind of twitch or extra giggles for his efforts.

“Then try his feet.”

Todoroki couldn’t help it. He pleaded, “Behehehe careful, plehehehease, I’m reheheheally ticklish there!”

“Oh?~” Natsuo grinned, pulling off his socks and scribbling wildly over his bare soles. “Are you, now?”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! CRAP, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOHOHOHOHOHO!!” Todoroki shrieked, tossing his head back and unleashing loud, uncontrollable bouts of laughter that had both of his siblings staring at him in shock. He squirmed uselessly, trapped under Fuyumi’s weight and – following that outburst – Natsuo’s as he straddled his legs and went to work tickling him like crazy on his worst spot in true brotherly fashion. “NONONONO PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE NOT THEHEHEHEHEHEHEHERE!! NAHAHAHAHAHATSUO!!”

Fuyumi grinned. She’d never seen Shoto look so happy in his life, and despite his ticklish distress and the pleas falling from his mouth, he never once said stop, never once looked to be truly panicked. He was loving this, she realized, and it made her heart so full she thought it might burst.

Laughter was truly the best medicine.

“AAAIEEHEHEHEHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHOHOHOOOO!!” Todoroki suddenly screamed, laughing so hard his hysterics went silent. He shook his head desperately, trying to gasp for breath. “NO MORE NO MORE PLEHEHEHEHEASE NO!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Fuyumi climbed off of him. “Nat, get off, he’s had enough.”

Natsuo complied, but he was laughing just as hard as his younger brother had been moments ago. “Dude, your laugh is the best thing in the world! You know that? Got a serious sweet spot on your arches, don’t you, little bro?”

Todoroki curled into a ball, still giggling, still smiling. “Y-Yeheheah…thanks f-fohohor stopping…”

“Of course. Wouldn’t want to go too far.” Natsuo ruffled his hair, beaming down at him. He and Fuyumi shared smiles with each other.

“Are you okay? Let me get you some water,” she said, hurrying into the kitchen and returning a moment later with a glass.

Todoroki took it gratefully, taking a few sips after he sat up. Then he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You guys probably think I’m such a child.”

“Shoto, sweetie, you are a child.” Fuyumi smirked, winking at him. “You’re the baby of the family, remember? But that doesn’t matter. Liking tickling doesn’t make you any less of a man. Or a pro hero.”

“For sure,” Natsuo agreed. He nudged his shoulder. “If anything, we think it’s awesome. Right, Fuyumi? It just means we have a guaranteed way to make you smile.”

Todoroki never imagined his first time really spending time with his brother and sister would wind up like this, but he wasn’t complaining. Not in the slightest. He smiled, unable to contain his relief and happiness. “There…there is one more thing, though.”

“Yeah? What is it?” Fuyumi asked gently.

He bit his lip, then glanced between them. “I like doing the tickling more.”

They went quiet.

They looked at each other.

Natsuo jumped to his feet. “Crap, Fuyumi – we’d better run!”

Fuyumi took his hand as he offered it to her, and they began to disappear from the living room.

“Wait!” Todoroki cried, worried he’d ruined the happy feeling from moments before. “I won’t do it unless you’re okay with—”

“Well, what are you waiting for, Sho?!” Natsuo called from somewhere in the hallway. “Come get us, tickle monster!”

“You can’t catch us!” Fuyumi sang teasingly.

That familiar fire flared up within Todoroki, and he beamed and leapt to his feet, chasing after them.

Sibling bonding went both ways, after all.

[cdroloisms]

i think that although the theories/aus of puffy's son dream and wil's brother dream are interesting to think about, especially the implications, the (probably) canon statement that he really has no family to me hits the hardest. because it's just dream, you know. his friends hate him, he has none (p relatable), but i can't really imagine,, both not having friends and not having a family. that's kind of what keeps a lot of us sane and okay ( - quill anon (same anon from the c!tubbo c!wil ask) )

ouch quill anon ,, this ask Hurt. it’s true - usually, it’s our family and friends that keep us going, that are the ones that we fight for and live for and love for. c!dream’s “family” was his reasoning behind ,, a lot of the stuff he did, good or bad, and even now you can hear his desperation in getting someone, anyone to visit sometimes, in wanting to know how people are doing outside the cell. 

at the same time, he’s a character very much defined by his solitude, by his isolation, by all of the time he has spent,, alone. by the alliances that had been broken, betrayed, forgotten. by how- at the end of the day - he sits for hours on end in an obsidian box with nothing but his thoughts to accompany him. it’s awfully ,, sad, despite everything he’s done. through it all, he’s alone. he survives the horrors of the vault (until this current arc) alone. nobody’s there to hear his thoughts. nobody knows his mindset, or feelings, or wants, or anything that really makes him human. for someone so driven by people, he spends so much time completely isolated - and it’s. honestly really, really tragic. 

anyway, this is a sad little drabble set pre-roommates arc abt c!dream in the prison, alone, bc he makes me Sad. 

tw: mentioned torture, abuse, violence, broken bones, blood, injuries, mental deterioration, isolation, panic attacks, self-deprecation, trauma, memory loss, death, contemplations of death, dark content, dark imagery

The blank book in his hand stares at him stubbornly, the stark white of the untouched pages nearly burning his eyes, used to the dark walls and floor of the cell. Dream’s hand shakes around his quill, ink splotches marring the pages from where his too-unsteady hand had let the nib brush against the paper and left freckles of black spots behind. He pulls his thumb back from the bottom left corner, hissing slightly when it leaves a dull red fingerprint behind, a smudge of half-dried blood further dirtying the paper.

He’d pulled out one of the books for some reason, probably on a whim, letting his hands run over the leather spine and along the thread of the binding absentmindedly after Quackity left for the day. He hadn’t touched them in a while - he liked to save them, at the beginning, just in case visitors came and he wanted to thank them or if he needed to communicate (though he hadn’t gone silent since Sapnap left, ‘cause Sapnap wanted him to talk and he doesn’t know why he still clings to that visit when it’s been months and he still hasn’t come back, but he promised that if Dream behaved he’d visit again and - it’s stupid to hope, but Dream can’t give up, not yet) and then he kept them because he would need them for the revive book and the Warden would confiscate them, anyway, so it was better not to get attached. Regardless, he’d stubbornly ignored the chest of books for a long time, let the remain closed and the clasp go unlatched as he wasted his days away watching the walls drip bright purple and pretend he didn’t miss his clock.

Until now.

He runs his fingers along the surface of the paper again, ignoring the red and black smudges they leave in their wakes, ruining the previously unblemished pages. The paper is smooth, bearing a very slight grain, and smells clean and woody - this book must’ve been a newer one the Warden replaced into the chest. He’d counted the pages a few times, front and back - there are fifty sheets, so a hundred pages to use as he sees fit, completely empty and untouched. The quill shakes in his hand, the tip pressed against the paper, unmoving.

What is there to write?

He’s forgotten why he pulled out the book in the first place, already - his head keeps getting fuzzier, memory impossibly fragmented and seemingly worsening with every passing day. He knows he had a reason because he’d been very determined about it, had spent what must have been hours dragging himself along the obsidian floor with a broken shinbone jutting out of his right leg and a dislocated left shoulder that he’d taken an extra few minutes to jam back in place by pressing it against the floor. Something had come into his head, probably in the middle of Quackity’s daily session, and he’d found himself desperate to write it down before he forgot despite the throbbing of his head and the pain in his chest making it impossible to take a full breath.

(He must have talked back, or acted defiant, or something - he doesn’t remember much besides the look Quackity had given him after, dark and angry and tight with rage. There had been a hand tangled in his hair, a blade jammed right up against his throat, curses and screams in his ears dying into a singular ringing echo as the blade was pushed deeper and deeper. It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Quackity realized that he’d gone too deep and that Dream was choking on his own blood - his memories shatter, and there’s nothing but more screaming, red and black and blood everywhere, warm against his skin, the sweet-sour taste of glistening melon on his tongue, a healing pot desperately stitching his skin together and bringing him back from the darkness that he’d swelled in the corners of his vision - mostly, he remembers everything going cold and numb and he’d realized, halfway into the Void, that he would never leave the Vault alive.)

His hands tighten on the book as he breathes a shallow, harsh breath through his teeth, because - oh. Oh. He looks back at the trembling white plume in his hand, at his shaking fingers clenched tightly near the end, and he swallows the thick, heavy feeling in his throat. Quackity had- and he had- and then-

Right.

He forces air into his lungs steadily, counting the seconds off in his head. He’d learned how to stave off panic attacks on his own ages ago, and the knowledge had come to full use in the Vault - the struggle to stay calm seems harder with every passing day, but he can’t exactly risk himself passing out every three seconds when he’s inevitably set off by the smell of blood or a twinge of pain or any of the million other triggers crammed into this tiny box that’s been the source of all of his torment for months. He keeps up the slow, steady breathing for another few minutes, just enough time to pull back the darkness creeping in from the edges of his vision, and looks back down at the blank paper.

It stares back at him, almost judgmental of his hesitancy. You opened me up, it seems to challenge him, why aren’t you writing? The quill still shakes in his hand. He doesn’t know if it’ll ever stop shaking again.

Dear, he begins, almost in defiance, proof that he Is Going To Write Something, thank you very much, he isn’t just going to chicken out and leave it a blank book (like you have before?) but the quill tip digs into the paper as he grinds to a sudden halt, the empty space next to the first word nearly taunting. He feels his mouth dry, heat rising behind his eyes - the book, silent and blank as ever, stays imprinted in his vision even as he squeezes them shut.

Dear, what a stupid, sentimental way to start a letter. He can’t even fool himself into thinking of it as a business venture, turn it into an elaborate plan to escape and address it to either Techno or Wilbur (who would never receive his message anyway), not without admitting his regard for the two edged past his pretense of professional interested and owed favors. He can hardly write it to Ranboo, not without compromising their already fragile alliance (if it even exists, anymore. The enderman hybrid had yet to visit for months - and sure, it was probably for the best, who knows how Quackity would react if he found out about the nature of their relationship, but that didn’t make it sting any less.)

In the back of his minds, name rise from where he’d kept them carefully buried despite his best efforts. Punz. Bad. Puffy. Sapnap. George. He shakes his head, trying to wave away them from his thoughts, but the effort is as fruitless as it has always been - he stares at the first word angrily, like it has betrayed him, and receives no response. The words are messy, shaking, his script overly looping and rounded like a child’s. He hates it, hates how cheery it looks, even on the bloodstained page - it looks like the beginning of a birthday card, or a perhaps a particularly dedicated Halloween party invite. Like he’s some sort of lovesick teen, writing letters to crushes that would never pay him a second glance. He laughed a little, without any real humor - minus the romance, that description isn’t all that far off.

Because- well. His memories might be shot to all hell, but he doubts he’ll ever forget the hatred on Sapnap’s face, a loaded crossbow pointed between his eyes, George’s expression set in disinterested apathy - “George, you can give the word.” Bad’s face, twisted in pity and resignation, voice carefully measured as he looks away and gestures at the cell, “you did do some pretty bad stuff to get put in here though, Dream,” the hidden “you deserve it” that he’d heard, just as clearly behind the words. Punz - “you should’ve paid me more” - jaw set stiffly as people poured through the portal, watching, wordless, as Dream bled out twice on that blackstone floor. Puffy, poorly hidden disgust flickering over her face as she looks away from him being dragged away in chains, sword held steady in her hands. Sapnap, that same fiercely determined expression on his face so familiar that thinking of it aches, even now, “it’s gonna be me, who takes your final life.” Months and months and months and months, alone.

Always, always, alone.

The page makes a quiet, complaining groan under his pen - he looks down to see it torn under the tip of his quill, the word completely unreadable under line after line of black ink scratched over it, each one deeper than the last. He stares blankly at it for a few minutes longer, the brief flash of anger that had seared through his body settling into numbness once more.

To whoever may find this: he scratches the words on the page slowly, keeping his print deliberately blocky and neat. The heavy feeling in his throat returns, stronger than ever, and he ignores it as he pushes on.

He pauses for a moment, wondering what more to write. Apologies? Accusations? He could detail every second that he remembers from Quackity’s visits, describe every inch of pain that had been pulled from his aching lungs, every line etched into his skin. He could apologize for every act of cruelty that had ever been caused by his hands, every bridge he’d ever torched to light the path to a better future. He could explain - everything, every tortured thought that had circled his head for hours on end and every night that had passed without any sleep and every time he’d pushed on without complaint or hesitancy because it would be worth it, even if he was the only one who saw it, it would be worth it because he’d sacrifice too much for it to be anything but. He could- he could, he could write and write until he’d filled every page of every book back and front, and would they even believe him? Would it even matter?

Goodbye, he writes at last. It feels strangely final. (He won’t be leaving this Vault alive. He knows this as surely as he knows that he will leave this world uncared for, unheard. As surely as he knows that he’ll always be alone.) With a quick snap of magic following the signing of his name, the book is preserved, shining slightly with a purple glow as he sets it back down in the chest. He looks around, the cell once again stiflingly quiet without the book to busy him, Dream once again completely alone as he’s been for - well.

(Pandas, eyebrows drawn in uncharacteristic seriousness from the usually painfully spirited eight-year-old, pinkie raised between the two of them, solemnity belied by the gap in his front teeth poking out between his lips.

“We’ll be together forever,” he whispered with the volume control you’d expect from a kid that age, which is to say that it wasn’t much of a whisper at all, but Dream, newly ten years old, remembers being particularly moved by the gesture anyway, moving to hesitantly hook his own pinkie in the other’s.

“And we’ll never be alone ever again,” he’d replied, voice faraway with a disbelieving sort of awe.”

“Never,” Pandas’ voice had been just as firm as his first statement, twisting his wrist to tighten the grip of their linked fingers further. “Best friends for ever and ever, right?”

“For ever and ever.”)

“For ever and ever,” he whispers, eyes fluttering shut as he slumps down against the floor, and only the lava bubbles in reply.

[spencersawkward]

i’m so happy ur on tumblr now!! i love between the lines so much, could you write a blurb or one shot about mgg and a younger co-star, but like very spicy if possible 🙃, idk i just love that scenario🥵.

i was literally about to write "omg i love this concept too!" and then i was like “well no fucking shit, sophi.” lol. YES i can 10/10 write you a one-shot with a similar scenario! also thank you for your kind words that was the first fic i ever wrote so it’s very near and dear to my heart!

summary: reader goes to a holiday party with her co-stars and best friend, Matthew... but all the fun happens in the dressing room.

content warnings: this one is quite dirty but i’m also proud of it lol. unprotected penetrative sex, oral (female receiving), degradation, use of the term “little girl,” creampie, age gap. dirty talk?

pairing: Fem!Reader/Matthew

word count: 4.7k

masterlist

"no."

"what do you mean, 'no’?” Matthew laughs, looking between me and the mirror.

"I look like the Ghost of Christmas Past." I lift up the soft white tulle of the dress, watching it float back down to settle over my skin. he's got his eyebrows raised and there's a smirk on his lips like he's holding back a laugh. I resist the urge to reach around and hit him.

"would you rather wear that?" he points to the punch-stained gown that's now laying pathetically over the back of the vanity chair. I genuinely ponder the idea for a moment.

"honestly, the crime scene vibes might work well with the theme of our show."

"seriously, it's not bad, Y/N!" he insists, drawing my attention back to the mirror.

"you're just saying that because you're the one who spilled on me and you don't want people making fun of how clumsy you are." I cross my arms over my chest. he gives me a dubious expression in our reflection on the wall.

"do I seem like I care about that?" he challenges.

"I--" the truth is that no, Matthew is not the type. Matthew is the kind of person to flounder in front of anyone and proceed to crack a joke about himself. he's humble. but I kind of like when we talk like this, our back and forth.

after a year of working together on the same show, he and I have grown incredibly close. I'm friends with all my co-stars, but he and I just have the natural friendship chemistry that makes me want to spend all my time with him. when we're not on set, we're hanging out on his couch or ordering dinner or driving out of town to check out wacky sites around California. we just have fun. pure, clean, honest fun.

of course, in my dreams it isn't pure or honest. frankly, there's a lot of sordid scandal to what goes on in my head when he accidentally touches my arm or brushes his fingers over mine. the amount of times I have gone to cast parties trying to work up the nerve to kiss him are embarrassing. he's older and more experienced and, obviously, he has no interest in me.

but that doesn't matter.

the only reason I'm standing in a dressing room alone with him is because he knew someone on the crew who could hook me up with a replacement for the night. he left while I slipped out of the old one and came back in only after knocking and checking, like, twice to make sure I was decent. he's so respectful that it's almost like he's afraid of making me think the wrong thing-- which makes me feel absolutely stupid for my almost schoolgirl crush.

"come on, you look great. let's go enjoy the party."

"was this a dress one of the victims was wearing?" I ask with a laugh.

"probably. not like we carry a lot of gowns on set." he grabs my hand, makes my heart leap into my throat. he only does it to urge me along, but it still feels intimate as I follow him out of the room, tossing one more evaluative glance at myself in the mirror. I seem terrified.

we continue to do our rounds at the party, Matthew filling my glass of eggnog even though I hate it. I wince and take a sip while we talk to some of our co-stars.

"what's wrong with you?" Shemar chuckles at my expression.

"lost a bet."

"with whom?" he glances between Matthew and me, knowing damn well already from the mischievous grin on the former's face.

"I told you not to take it." Matthew says over the rim of his glass.

"if you mention it one more time, I'm gonna throw up eggnog all over your outfit." I threaten him, but we're both smiling. Shemar frowns.

"what was the bet?"

"you know David-- the guy I was telling you about?" I reply quickly, determined to give my side of the story. Shemar nods; I told him last week when David oh-so-chivalrously danced up on me at a club and asked me out. usually in those situations, guys just want a one-night stand, so I was impressed and agreed. "anyway, Matthew said if it turned out that he was a weirdo, he would get to pick my drinks for the next week whenever we go out."

"your drinks? that's specific."

"she's so picky!" Matthew teases me.

"leave me alone, you dick!" I elbow him and he dodges just in time.

"tell him why he was a weirdo." he grins. the glare I give could kill. but Shemar is waiting expectantly for me to share the information, so I sigh and set my jaw before telling the truth.

"he collects antique dental tools."

"what?" Shemar laughs disbelievingly. I throw my hands up.

"I don't fucking know. we went back to his apartment and he showed me his whole collection."

"you're attracted to weird people, Y/N." Matthew says. I raise my eyebrows and almost say something that dooms me. I hold my tongue, however, and turn back to Shemar with a reserved smile.

"anyway, how are you?"

...

the cast holiday party is actually pretty fun. I tend to leave these functions early in favor of my couch and some ice cream, but something about the bright colors and the smell of wintergreen in the air makes me want to linger in the studio.

I stuff myself with sugar cookies and Matthew mercifully lets me switch from eggnog to Sprite. normally, I'd drink at such an occasion, but I'm a messy drunk and this is one of my first real jobs as an actress. I don't want to even come close to jeopardizing that by breaking some expensive equipment or something.

my throat gets a little sore from all the talking I do-- Paget and I spend about half an hour horribly belting out Christmas carols at the baby grand piano they brought in. they originally had someone hired to play it, but the guy disappeared about an hour ago.

by the time it hits around ten pm, my limbs are tired. I thought people would be leaving (a lot of them have families), but the party is still very much raging when I start to wind down. maybe it's because I'm sober.

"hey." Matthew sidles up next to me as I sit at the piano bench with a slice of lime in my mouth. I like to suck the juice out of them; sour things are my favorite.

"hi." I pluck the fruit out and drop it back into my soda. he sits next to me, his cologne filling my senses with the kind of sensual warmth that it shouldn't be making me feel. he always smells so good.

"ladylike." he gestures to the movement.

"is that why you call me 'princess?'" I smirk, half-joking.

"once-- I called you that once!" he defends. it's not a lie. he used the nickname when he was mocking me for my somewhat selective food preferences. it was sarcastic, but I wish it wasn't. something about the way he said it in the moment made me blush.

"is there a reason you've come to grate my nerves?" I raise an eyebrow and he turns away from me as he bites back a smile. I pout. "what?"

"you're talking like a Jane Austen novel."

"what's wrong with Jane Austen?" I defend, skin heating up. his proximity is doing things to me that it shouldn't.

"nothing," he glances at me before moving his gaze to the ivory keys. "do you play?"

"elementary level, sure." I giggle. he runs his fingers over them, never pressing down hard enough to release a sound. I'm entranced by the delicate nature of his actions, the veins and the curve of his fingertips, the sheer width of his hand. I think about it too much for it to be healthy.

"show me." it's a direct order, one that doesn't feel directive but still ends with me placing both hands on the piano and wracking my brain for something to play. I decide on a piece that Paget and I were doing earlier, "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

I've never been quite good at piano, and the nearness of his body is like an anvil on my fingers, but I play anyway. and it feels good. his eyes are on me, drawn to my tracings over the instrument as they press and lift and glide.

"sing." I tell him.

"no!" he protests. I don't stop playing, only now getting into the thick of the tune.

"oh, come on. just the chorus..." I plead, turning my head to beg. "please?"

I bat my lashes playfully, fully intending it as a joke, but Matthew softens a bit. for a fraction of a second, I think he looks at my mouth. he turns his head back to the piano and lets out a quiet "here we are as in olden days... happy golden days of yore..."

"there you go!" I egg him on, and he starts to get more into it. his voice is absolutely off-key; he's no singer, and somehow that makes him even more endearing to me.

Matthew has always been this flawless, intimidating figure in my mind. even when we first met, I was certain that he was hiding something because everything else about him is so... perfect. he's funny, sweet, genuinely kind, handsomer than hell. it didn't make sense. but knowing that he can't carry a tune makes me feel a bit better. it humanizes his beauty.

while he sings, I can't help looking at him. his side profile is even more enchanting; the curve of his features meeting a smooth elegance in his jaw and cheek, especially when his mouth is open. he catches me smiling at him and returns it with his own gleeful face, now totally fine with singing like a fool in front of everyone. nobody is even really looking at us-- they're several drinks in and lost in their own universe of drunken laughter.

there's something kind of magical about that, I think. we're sober. when the song draws to a close, I lift my fingers off the keys and into my lap.

"you're quite the Pavarotti." I joke.

"the who?" he furrows his brow with a smile.

"he's a famous opera singer."

"oh," he laughs, "thanks, Mozart."

I twist my face up as I hide my smile. this is also part of the reason I could never tell Matthew how I feel; we just fit together too well. he almost always gets my references and I understand his, even though there's an age gap between us. he's an old soul with a youthful heart.

"how's your night going?" I ask him softly, changing the subject. he sets his hands on his lap, absent-mindedly toying with his fingers. it's not a nervous tendency at all. he does it whenever we're on set.

"as of right now? pretty damn good." he replies with a smile. I get warm again at the implication. he doesn't mean it like that, but god, do I wish he did.

"very smooth." I compliment appreciatively.

"how about you?"

"it was kind of boring, but then this rando sat next to me and started singing Christmas songs and it got a little better." I say flatly, grabbing my glass off the top of the piano and running my fingertip over the rim. he drops his head in a giggle.

"you're something else."

"insult?" I clarify.

"definitely a compliment."

"I like compliments."

"well, I wasn't lying before. you look really beautiful in that dress."

"the murder dress?" I glance down at it to hide the absolute wideness of my eyes at his words. he's completely flustering me and I'm starting to find it hard to breathe. he said I look beautiful. not "pretty," not "great"-- beautiful.

"yes, the murder dress." he gets a little pink in his cheeks, and that makes me want to explode on the spot.

"well, say goodbye to it because I'm gonna go change back into my plebeian clothes," I stand from the piano bench. "it's past my bedtime."

Matthew looks up at me with an unreadable expression and I feel my heart flutter in my chest. I hate leaving him. "do you wanna come with me? like-- walk with me?"

"sure." he nods, stands, and follows behind. I can feel his presence like a delightful reminder of the emotions surging in my stomach. we wind through the crowd of party-goers until we end up back in the dressing room, away from the party. it's quiet.

Matthew walks in with me, carrying our drinks in his hand, and he's about to stroll back out so I can change when I touch his arm. the door shuts automatically behind him.

"wait," I swallow quickly. "can you unzip me?"

"oh." Matthew looks at me, then at the glasses in his arms, then at the vanity. he sets them down and comes back quickly, his frame behind me while his fingertips locate the little piece at the top of my gown. my breath hitches in my throat when he brushes over my spine by accident, one nail dragging accidentally against my skin as the fabric slowly gives way. I don't know if he hears it-- it's nearly imperceptible-- but he definitely hesitates once he reaches the place where my back starts to curve into my ass. he pauses, doesn't breathe until he reaches the end of the zipper.

"there you go." he mutters. his voice is a little more hoarse than usual, and he clears his throat as he steps away. I know he's going to back out. he's going to back out of the room and wait for me to slip into nothing and I know, somehow, that he's going to be thinking about how I look in here with my clothes off. he's going to wish he stayed.

and I'm going to wish he'd done more than stayed.

before I can lose my nerve and allow the moment to be swallowed up by practicality, I shrug the straps of the dress down my shoulders and let gravity take over. it drops to the floor, leaving me in only my bra and panties. I can sense him behind me; he's silent for a moment.

"Matthew." I say, the name sitting on my tongue like a sugar cube. perfectly formed, slowly dissolving.

"y-yeah?" he stutters for the first time since I've met him.

"are you looking at my ass right now?" I ask, still turned around. the way he's frozen in place tells me that I'm right.

"yeah." he admits.

"you can touch it, if you want." I murmur softly. part of me doesn't think this is real, the way each sentence leaves my throat like it's been pre-planned. truly, I don't understand how my brain is moving so quickly.

"are you... sure?" he's hesitant, but even I can taste the longing.

"yes."

his hand smooths over my butt, softly at first like he's still not believing his own eyes, before moving back to grab it. he squeezes the flesh, and a low exhale from him tells me that he's excited.

"do you want more?" my voice barely carries. my head is almost foggy from how good it is to have his grip on my body, even in such a simple way. I can feel myself getting wet.

"how much more?" his lips brush over my shoulder and I get goosebumps. my mouth opens and closes for a moment, searching for the right words.

"however much you want."

it's flint and steel, the way he sparks. the air literally leaves my lungs when Matthew grabs my hips and spins me around to face him. my lips part as I peer up at him, at the lust that now darkens those hazel eyes and the way he holds mine. his touch is certain. he pulls our bodies together, tilts my chin up to kiss me.

it's passionate, strong, the kind of kiss that causes me to lean back a bit just to receive the full force of his desire. but I return the affection easily, moaning into his mouth. I've never been held the way that Matthew holds me. like I'm made of sugar glass, like he wants desperately to feel the soft give of my skin and make a home of me.

the heat between our bodies is almost overwhelming, and I sigh when he subtly pushes our hips together. his erection is against my stomach.

"fuck." I mutter when I pull away for air. Matthew doesn't stop his perfect movements, though, tugging my earlobe between his teeth and starting to leave love bites up my skin and over my shoulder. he chuckles against my throat. I shiver.

"you alright, little girl?" he asks.

"just--" I let out a moan at the sensation of his fingers exploring my bare waist. he reaches behind me to unclasp my bra. "just surprised."

"about?" he slides the straps down my shoulders and looks me in the eye. the lack of physical contact makes me whine.

"that you want me."

"how is that surprising?" he smiles, using one index finger to guide me to look at him.

"you don't seem like it."

Matthew raises his eyebrows as if I'm a crazy person. truly dumbstruck. "what?"

"you-- well, I don't know." I frown, but Matthew takes my hand and moves it over his torso until my palm is resting over the considerable bulge in his pants.

"is this enough proof?"

I struggle for words, sputtering. "yeah-- yeah, it is."

he bucks into my hand a little and I bite my lip, eyes moving up to meet his. something passes between us that I don't fully understand, but feel in my bones. I have never, in my life, wanted someone to fuck me as much as I want Matthew to fuck me right now. my jaw clenches.

"I need you." I tell him like this is the most relevant piece of information that will ever pass between us. he smirks.

"yeah?"

"mhmm."

"then lean against the wall and let me give you what you deserve." he orders. for a second, I try to think through what he means. then I look behind me at the open space and back up, him following me closely. his hands move up to cup my breasts, kneading and tweaking my nipples as he kisses my lips. the coolness against my back causes me to gasp, and he swallows the sound with his tongue before moving down my body.

he's torturously slow, taking one of my nipples into his mouth while he shrugs off his suit jacket. he switches to my other peak, one hand splayed over my stomach, and then proceeds southward with his lips. his kisses are delicate, open-mouthed, as they find their way to the waistband of my panties.

he hooks his fingers in them and looks up at me.

"can I eat you out, baby?" he asks. I bite my lip.

"please." like a beg.

"oh, you're polite tonight." he smirks, tugging the garment down my legs and discarding it somewhere in the room. I don't respond, and he doesn't seem to need me to, because he pushes one leg up for better access to my pussy. "let's see if it lasts."

my back curves off of the wall involuntarily when he holds the flat of his tongue against my clit suddenly, trying to roll my hips against his face. my fingers tangle in his hair, one leg resting over his shoulder.

he starts to flick at my clit. I lose grasp of my own language.

"Matthew, that feels so good, I--"

he attaches himself to my bundle of nerves, seemingly turned on by the sounds I'm making for him. he groans as he laps at the wetness between my legs, dipping into my folds and sucking the soul out of me. I whine and use his curls as leverage to gain more friction. he peers up at me.

"needy little girl." he mumbles against my pussy. I shove him back into me.

"make me cum, then." I beg. I can practically feel the devilish smirk on his face as he devours me like he'll never get enough. every twist and lick of his tongue is sending me to new places. I'm panting, chest heaving, while I grab my own tits and buck into his mouth.

he moans. my orgasm hits me like a wave, causing me to nearly thrash with pleasure as I cry out.

"Matthew, keep going, fuck yes!" I feel tears prick the back of my eyes, the culmination almost too much to bear as we hold contact. he stares into my fucking soul as he eats me out, and I want to stay like this forever. it's hard to support myself with my legs going weak, but I love it. the sensations are otherworldly. it's only when I'm about to collapse that I push his face away from me.

"I love your pussy." he tells me, licking his lips as he sets my legs down. I grin and let my head fall back against the wall.

"thanks."

"come here, princess." he takes hold of my hips and guides me over to the mirror, turning me so that he's standing behind my frame. the pet name causes me to smile.

"what?" I reference our reflection. he stares at me, reaching around to squeeze my tits.

"I wanna fuck you in the mirror." such a vulgar thing, said so beautifully. he kisses my cheek. "if that's okay with you."

"I don't care what position we do as long as you're fucking me." I breathe honestly. he chuckles and draws me towards him so his clothed boner is against my ass. I reach behind and work the button on his pants. he undoes the ones on his shirt. we're silent, him watching my naked body move like he's trying to memorize every detail.

when he's finally stripped, he lets me stroke his cock for a couple moments before pushing my upper back forward so I'm holding onto the sides of the mirror. I see him biting his lip as he lines himself up at my entrance.

"you ready?" he checks. I nod and he smiles at me once. pushing in, the smile melts into a jaw-dropped haze, eyes rolling into the back of his head. "Y/N..."

"it's so big." I try to breathe. he's so deep, I grip the mirror until my knuckles turn white. he's going to snap my body in two with the angle of his cock, filling me easily.

"tight little thing." he grunts as he holds himself inside. I can only watch in shock as I try to adjust to the sheer feeling of him. Matthew runs his hands over my sides, my ass, touching whatever he can. "how's that?"

I start to wiggle my hips and he groans at the feeling of my walls desperately swallowing him up. "Matthew, I need it."

"need what?" he thrusts into me and I have to fight a scream.

"need you."

"fuck... yes." he hisses out, sliding into me. "you're so wet I don't even need to try."

I bite my lip to withhold my sounds and he stares me in the eyes in the mirror as he starts to fuck me harder, building a pace with his hips. he growls a little if he hits certain angles, getting ruthless.

"so many times when I wanted to be inside you, princess..." he trails off. I start to play with my clit with one hand, using the other to stabilize myself with the mirror. the idea turns me on.

"when?"

"whenever you have attitude," he pants. "tonight, in that innocent fucking dress. making me wanna pound you like a little slut."

I make a high-pitched sound at the shudder of pleasure that jolts through my stomach at his words, wanting more. I've never heard him talk this way before.

"Matthew, shit--" I rub myself in circles, caught between watching his face and watching the way his hips slam into mine.

"you're begging to be fucked, you know that?"

"am I?" I smile sweetly in the mirror. we're in our own world, locked in a fantasy that I never want to leave. I can feel him in every corner of my body, sinking beneath my skin. he digs his nails into my ass.

"mhmm." he hums. I can feel the familiar weight in my stomach that indicates how close I'm getting. a knot that screams to be undone by his perfect length. I would do anything for more of this. I can taste everything good in the world on my tongue.

"I'm so close." I whine.

"I can tell," he studies my face in the mirror. "so pretty when you're breaking."

"oh--" I feel my thighs tense and my body pulses, the euphoria almost overwhelming. we move steadily, rhythmically, and he pushes my climax to new levels. "faster." I cry.

Matthew is quick to respond, gripping me closer while he plows into me like he's never going to have my body again. the sound of it is filthy, perfect, a mess. he groans at the sensation of my cunt pulsating around his cock.

"cum for me, princess." he moans, losing himself in the embrace of my core. the foggy stare in his eyes is like drowning in the ocean. I sink below, not caring at all about the consequences of him inside me. fuck working together; I need him. "where should I cum?"

"in me." I groan.

"beg." he commands easily, watching my face contort in pleasure. I could pretend to fight it, to give a little attitude, but I don't want to. I love begging for him.

"fill me up, Matthew. please." each word punctuated by the breathlessness of my voice. he gets even more ferocious with me, beating up my pussy until I'm sure he's going to leave me sore.

"right there, right there," he gasps, hitting the same spot that makes me go cross-eyed. "such a good little slut."

his cum shoots into me, deep and warm and erotically twisted, and I nearly collapse. it feels weird, but so good at the same time. full. he groans out my name and withdraws, quick to grab my shoulders and hold me up as I almost fall. I hadn't realized that most of my body weight was supported purely by his thrusts.

"whoa." he lets out a tired laugh, gentle in his touch. I'm heaving air into my lungs.

"sorry." I apologize, my body unstable.

"are you okay?" he seems genuinely concerned and I nod.

"yeah, I'm fine. just a little overwhelmed."

"here," he scoops me into his arms and brings me over to the old love seat in the dressing room, laying his jacket down before putting me on top of it. "can I get you something?"

"Sprite." I gesture to the glass on the vanity, and he smiles as he goes to get it. I gulp down whatever remains of it. "thanks."

"of course." he keeps glancing at my face and the red marks on my hips where he was clutching me like a lifeline. "I'm sorry."

"what?" I set the cup down. "don't ever be sorry for fucking me like that."

"no, I meant--" he laughs, but then he sees my playful expression and realizes that I'm genuinely alright. I think my legs were asleep.

"you're a saint." I tell him. he frowns and shakes his head bashfully. I'm already getting up and collecting my clothes. "or maybe what we just did prevents you from reaching sainthood. I don't know."

he places his hand on my lower back, kisses my forehead tenderly.

"seriously. you're okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine," I assure him. "but I would be better with a milkshake."

Matthew breaks into a slow grin, staring at me like I've done something miraculous.

"how are you so perfect?"

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter Five}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta’s time for mourning was up.

As she pulled into Elain’s driveway, reality set in. It would be her first day back at the restaurant since the accident, since her life was thrown completely upside down.

She wasn’t ready

But, she had no choice.

Elain was already smiling when she opened the door, reaching out to take Nyx. “Hi, my baby! Aunt Lainy and Seph are so excited to spend the day with you, yes we are.”

“I’m glad, because Aunt Nesta isn’t so excited to not be spending the day with him,” she said, sighing.

Elain gave her sister a wistful look. “I get that. How about Cass, how did he feel going back to work last night?”

Nesta snorted. “Don’t know. He never came back. They started inventory around two this morning after last call, according to the short text I woke up to. He says he’ll be there for most of the day.”

Elain lifted a brow. “Wow.”

Nesta blinked. “He’s a bartender, what do you expect?”

“No,” Elain chuckled. “I meant: wow, looks like you two are actually communicating. I’m shocked.”

Nesta rolled her eyes. “We’ve been living together for three days. If we weren’t communicating, what exactly would we be doing instead?”

Elain carried Nyx into the living room, sitting him down in the playpen she’d set up in the corner. “I mean, honestly, Az and I just figured you were pretending each other didn’t exist.”

For all intents and purposes, they had been, but they had made sure to talk about important things. Like whether Nyx had been fed, when he needed to go down for his nap and what the schedule for the next day would look like.

To be totally honest, she hadn’t even realized Cassian had her number until she’d woken up to a text from one she didn’t have saved in her phone.

“We’re…adjusting,” she finally said, watching as Nyx crawled over to the pile of toys in the corner of the playpen. “I gave him a bath last night, and he said he would handle the next one, since he had to go to work. But… Gods, Elain, giving a one-year-old a bath is exhausting. I looked like I’d just left the pool, not to mention the entire bathroom was soaked.”

Elain chuckled and shook her head. “Seph loves baths, but we’re still having them in the sink right now. She’s not quite ready for the bathtub yet.”

The baby in question was asleep in a bouncer, resting on the floor by the couch.

Nesta glanced at her watch, whatever reply she had falling from her lips. “Shit, I have to go, I’ll be late.”

“Go,” Elain said, wrapping her sister up in a hug. “The day will fly by and you’ll be home with Nyx before you know it.”

Nesta nodded, even though her core was filled with dread.

Nonetheless, she was across town in fifteen minutes, hurrying into the café just before nine. She tossed her purse behind her desk after she unlocked the door to her office and looked around, only to find everything exactly where she had left it.

With a sigh, she pulled a bottle of water out of her mini-fridge, only to find it completely warm. They must have unplugged it when they were cleaning. It wouldn’t be the first time.

She didn’t have time to think on it too much, though, because there was a knock on her office door, her manager’s voice calling her name through the wood.

Her first day back had officially begun.

*

Cassian was exhausted.

For the past couple hours, he felt like he was lost somewhere in a dream. Now, as he continued to stare at the shelves of liquor in the back room, he debated curling up in the corner and falling asleep.

He’d messed up so many drink orders the night before, worrying about whether Nyx was okay or if Nesta had forgotten to do anything for him. He knew Nesta was perfectly capable of taking care of Nyx, had been doing so since Rhys and Feyre had died. But he still worried about him constantly.

He yawned as he shoved a box of tequila up onto the top shelf, turning to see how much was left.

Only to find the store room empty of boxes. He let over a relieved sigh, pulling out his phone.

10:37

He knew the opener would be in at eleven, a shift that was usually his, but as the manager, he preferred to ensure inventory was done correctly, and with such a big shipment, thanks to his unexpected time off, he told them he would work the night before.

His feet damn near shuffling across the floor, he made his way into the office and sat down at the desk, to wait for Kallias. He didn’t see a reason to lock the place up when Kal would be here five minutes later to start setting up.

He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until he heard a knocking on the office door and sat up quickly, his feet falling from where he’d propped them on top of the desk.

Cassian found Kallias standing in the doorway, a small smirk on his lips. “Baby keeping you up at night already?”

He yawned, dragging a hand down his face. “No. Well, sometimes, but not this time. Didn’t finish inventory until about fifteen minutes ago.”

Kallias whistled. “Damn. You should’ve called. I would’ve come help.” Cassian shrugged. “No use having both of us exhausted.”

Kallias just shook his head. “If you say so. Go home, Cass. Get some sleep. I’ve got everything under control.”

Cassian didn’t need to be told twice. He stood, clapped Kallias on the shoulder, and walked out to the parking lot. After hopping into his truck, Cassian dozed off.

And six hours later, he woke up, his head against his steering wall, his neck hurting like hell, and his chin glistening with his slobber.

It wasn’t an attractive sight.

After a curse, he looked at the clock on the dash, and swore again.

It was just after five.

The truck was in gear and he was speeding home seconds later. When he rounded the corner, Nesta’s car was already in the driveway.

He parked beside her, hopping out and hurrying to the back door. When he threw it open, he found her standing at the stove, stirring something in a pan. It smelled delicious.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, collapsing in the nearest chair at the kitchen table, his head dropped into his hands in exhaustion. Even after his impromptu nap in the truck, he still felt like he needed another eight hours sleep. “Inventory took way longer than usual and then I passed out in the truck.” He shook his head, letting his obvious exhaustion explain the rest to her.

“It’s fine.”

He looked up and glanced at her stiff back. She hadn’t turned back to look at him, was completely focused on whatever she cooked on the stove.

Her tone said it absolutely was not fine.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but I’d been awake for over twenty-six hours.”

“Elain had to reschedule a shoot with a client tonight. She was expecting you to come pick up Nyx after you got off and got some sleep.”

He cringed. Nesta had texted him around ten, while he was still focused on inventory, asking him to get Nyx from Elain before three. He didn’t ask why, had honestly forgotten she’d even texted him.

“I’ll call her later, I’ll apologize,” he sighed.

Nesta turned abruptly and tossed the towel she was using to hold the warm handle on the counter. She was pissed, he’d seen that look in her eyes more than once. “I get that you worked and you were tired, but you have to be more responsible, Cassian.”

“I said I was fucking sorry,” he said, standing. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep in my truck, but I did. I’m fucking sorry.”

She rolled her eyes, but turned back to the stove.

Cassian scoffed, and was nearly ready to bite her head off, but then Nyx’s soft cries came from the living room.

“He fell asleep in the pack and play,” Nesta said, continuing to stir what she had on the stove.

Cassian took that as his dismissal. He hurried into the living room and picked up Nyx, who was standing up in his pack and play, gripping the edge. When he saw Cassian, his hands shot straight in the air.

“Hey buddy,” he said, quietly, as he lifted Nyx out of his pack and play. Nyx instantly relaxed in his arms, laying his head on Cassian’s shoulder.

“He’s probably hungry,” Nesta said, as the boys made their way back into the kitchen.

“I’m aware,” Cassian snapped.

Nesta’s shoulders tensed.

Cassian said nothing more as he opened the fridge and took out some leftover mashed potatoes, Nyx’s favorite.

“He should have some kind of protein with that,” Nesta said, her back still to them.

Cassian spun around, exasperated. “Shit, anything else you’d like to add?”

She said nothing, pretending he didn’t even speak. Cassian didn’t say anything else, but he fixed him a bottle, and set Nyx in his high chair. As Cassian shook it, Nyx held out his hands, reaching for it. He gave it to him, turning to the microwave to heat up the potatoes.

He heard plates being set down at the table and found Nesta setting two plates full of stir fry on the table.

He hesitated, but moved Nyx’s high chair closer to the table. He took the already empty bottle from him and got a small spoonful of potatoes for him. He quietly said, “You didn’t need to cook for me,” as he fed Nyx.

“I made too much,” she replied, simply, sitting across from him. She didn’t meet his eyes as she took a bite.

He watched as her eyelashes fluttered in satisfaction.

As Nyx grabbed his bowl from the end of his high chair and stuck his face into it, Cassian looked down at his own plate, at the steak, broccoli, peppers, peeled carrots, and snap peas that sat before him.

It smelled delicious.

He hesitantly took a bite as Nyx clapped his hands and began to babble.

“Afraid I may poison you?” Nesta asked.

Cassian blinked, meeting her eyes. They remained like that for a moment, staring at one another, then Cassian took another bite. “It’s good. Thanks.”

“I made too much,” she repeated. “Cut Nyx up some of the steak. It’s tender enough for him to eat, just make sure the pieces are tiny. The broccoli, too. He likes broccoli.”

Cassian did as he was told without a word. He set the food in front of Nyx, who instantly had his chubby little hands on them.

“Don’t think I’ll be cooking every night,” Nesta said, in the middle of their otherwise silent meal.

“I wouldn’t think of it,” Cassian said, then cleared his throat. “I can cook sometimes, too. I’m not bad in the kitchen.” A look crossed Nesta’s face that said she didn’t quite believe that statement.

“I make a mean breakfast,” he said, after chewing through another bite. “I’ll show you. We’ll do breakfast for dinner one night.”

Nesta nodded, but Cassian couldn’t tell if that was confirmation or just agreeing to shut him up. After a minute, she set down her fork and cleared her throat. “Speaking of breakfast, I’d prefer to not share the table with any friends you may bring home.”

Cassian’s brows lowered, not fully understanding. And then what she was saying clicked and he was coughing around the bite of food he’d been swallowing. He drank from the glass of water he’d grabbed, and cleared his throat, ensuring he could breathe. “I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“If I live here, it is my concern,” she said, going right back to eating, as if she hadn’t just brought up an extremely unexpected topic. “I don’t want Nyx to see a revolving door of women leaving either, he doesn’t need to get the wrong idea.”

Cassian could only stare at her, though when Nyx heard his name, he paused his eating to look up at her. He finally said, “He’s one, first of all, so he has no idea what that would even mean, and secondly, I can have whoever the hell I want here, and they can stay for breakfast. I live here, too.”

“Would you care to see an endless string of men coming out of my bedroom every morning?” Nesta asked, her tone light, but her eyes full of hellfire.

Cassian’s chewing slowed. No, he wouldn’t care to see that, but he’d never admit it. He wasn’t even one to bring women home...well, at least not often, but apparently she thought of him as some unhinged casanova.

“As long as you ask me to join, I don’t care who you bring home,” Cassian said.

Now it was Nesta’s turn to choke on the bite of steak she just took. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of red as her eyes watered. After catching her breath and taking a long drink of water, she said, “That’s inappropriate.”

Nyx giggled, his lips covered in mashed potatoes, as if Nesta had just said the most hilarious thing in the world.

He took one last bite of his food before standing and carrying his plate over to the sink. “You don’t bring up my sex life and I won’t bring up yours. Deal?”

“Fine,” she said, picking up her plate as well and dropping it next to his on the counter. “You take care of the dishes, I’ll give Nyx his bath.”

“Fine.” That seemed to be their word to end conversations, as most of them ended with one of them snapping the word at the other, and it being repeated right back to them.

He wanted to fling more insults at her, wanted to snap that he wasn’t the man-whore she apparently thought he was. He never had been, despite the obscene amount of those stupid condoms she’d seen in his glove box all those years ago. But he knew she wouldn’t believe him.

He heard her unclipping Nyx’s high chair and then she was carrying him upstairs. Cassian was already wrist deep in soapy water when he heard the bathtub running from upstairs.

It was then that he realized he had originally told Nesta that he would give Nyx a bath tonight.

He didn’t pick him up from Elain’s.

He didn’t give him a bath like he said he would.

Maybe Nesta was right.

Maybe he was just setting himself up for failure.

As he scrubbed at the dishes, Cassian felt that sense of failure wash over him and sent a thought to Rhysand, wherever he was, hoping that his oldest friend wasn’t as disappointed in him as he was.