#however I hope Jimmy kills himself. Oh wait

[xxether-nanoemikoxx]

Chat did I cook?

[storytellerofuntoldlegends]

tangle up the true and the fable

A/N: empires!scott and empires!jimmy have hella enemies to lovers vibes. so take enemies to hey-wait-were-we-lovers-in-a-past-life to friends. also joel and lizzie make a cameo appearance. title is from Rose by The Oh Hellos! (also reblogs > likes)

Warnings: arguing, death mention, flirting, cave-ins, cave spiders, injury, vague description of cave spider venom effects, nonchalant talk of the minecraft respawn mechanic, near death experiences, explosions, talk of past/alternate lives, angst with a happy ending, hopeful ending

Summary: Jimmy doesn't understand why the ruler of Rivendell doesn't seem to like him. He supposes that going on a mining trip in Scott's mountains without asking permission doesn't exactly help matters much though. But when the two of them end up trapped in the caves, will they be able to set aside their differences to survive?

-

Jimmy should really start thinking before he did things. Like stealing- ahem. Borrowing some cake ingredients from Sausage, which in turn caused him to steal Jimmy's prized music disc. Or whatever was the deal with the Rivendell ruler, Scott. Jimmy wasn't sure what exactly he did to get on the elf's bad side, but Scott didn't seem to like him very much. Well... at least sometimes he seemed to hate Jimmy. Sometimes it seemed like... something else. Jimmy couldn't quite place it- maybe he did want to be best friends after all? But whatever the case, things were always a little tense between the rulers of the Cod Empire and Rivendell. And it seemed today was no exception.

He was in dire need of more materials, and the swamp wasn't very rich in caves. And Jimmy had already explored most of the caves in his empire. So while he couldn't entirely rationalize why, he decided to go on a trip to the mountains to gather materials. It was a stupid idea, going near the empire of someone who possibly hated him, but part of him hoped that he would see Scott. Maybe he could work out some sort of alliance instead of their squabbling and occasional attempts to kill each other. Besides, he wasn't going to the actual mountain Scott lived on, just the ones near his mountain. Surely that’d be far enough to not anger him, but close enough to suggest an amicable atmosphere? Right?

Wrong. Very, very wrong. Jimmy had barely gotten deep in a cave in the mountains when Scott appeared, like he had some sort of “Jimmy-being-an-idiot” sixth sense. The elf admittedly was an imposing sight- enchanted diamond armor, an enchanted diamond axe strapped to his back, arms crossed over his chest, a golden circlet with antlers branching up from it, and blue eyes glinting with irritation. Those eyes seemed to see right through Jimmy, scrutinizing and seeing him for who he truly was. Not the Codfather, a strong leader- but a swamp boy whose sweet intentions got him into trouble more often than not.

“What are you doing here?” Scott asked, voice cold and unimpressed. Jimmy frowned at the elf’s tone.

“Mining,” Jimmy said simply, crossing his arms right back at Scott. He rolled his eyes in response.

“Obviously, but why are you doing so in my empire?” Scott asked pointedly.

“I’m not mining in your mountain though!” Jimmy protested, a little confused at Scott’s irritation. Scott let out a sound that was halfway between a sigh and a groan, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache coming on.

“Jimmy. All the mountains around here are mine,” Scott said bluntly, dropping his hand to glare at Jimmy. Well now he felt a little sheepish. But still, he didn’t understand why Scott had to get all irritated about it, maybe they could work something out. Jimmy took on an easygoing smile, causing Scott to knit his brows in confusion.

“I know I shouldn’t have been here, and I didn’t realize this mountain was part of your empire. If you want the materials I gathered, I’m more than willing to-”

“Oh, sorry about that, buddy! Tell you what, I’ll give you-”

“I’m not your buddy,” Scott said, cutting Jimmy off and causing his easy smile to melt away near instantly. Jimmy sighed.

“I don’t want anything from you, I just want you to leave,” Scott said, interrupting Jimmy again, and honestly it was getting pretty hard for Jimmy to continue being amicable if Scott was going to be like this for the whole conversation.

“Fine! I was only trying to come to a peaceful resolution here, no need to be a jerk like always,” Jimmy huffed, slinging his pickaxe over his shoulder and starting to head out of the cave. Scott made an irritated sound, quickly following after him.

“Oh, I’m sorry for being mean when you’re the one who showed up in my empire unannounced and unwanted!” Scott fumed, hands gesturing wildly as he kept up with Jimmy’s brisk pace.

“Like I said, didn’t realize this was part of your empire. And I’m leaving now, so you can stop following me,” Jimmy huffed. Scott stopped to stare at him incredulously, and Jimmy paused as well to raise an eyebrow at him.

“This cave only has one exit, you idiot. We both have to go this way,” Scott pointed out with a scoff. Jimmy made a frustrated sound, and was about to make a retort- but heard a hiss and saw a green shape ambling towards them from an unlit portion of the cave. Jimmy didn’t have time to draw his sword, and Scott was too busy glaring at Jimmy to notice the creeper heading towards them. So in a split-second decision, Jimmy tackled Scott to the ground right before the creeper exploded and caused a chunk of the cave to crumble down right where the two of them had been standing. Debris showered over the two of them, and Jimmy instinctively shielded Scott from it, even though he had been shouting at the elf mere moments prior. The dust settled, and it was then he realized how close he and Scott were, their noses practically touching.

“You alright?” Jimmy asked, surprising himself with how soft and concerned his voice came out. Scott looked at him with wide eyes and an almost flustered expression, until he schooled it down into smooth indifference.

“You’re supposed to take me to dinner before you pin me like that,” Scott teased with a smirk. Jimmy rolled his eyes, getting up off of Scott before offering a hand to help him up.

“I think you’re supposed to thank me for saving your life,” Jimmy shot back. Scott scowled at him, ignoring the offered hand and getting to his feet on his own, brushing the dirt off of his clothes.

“Thank you for what? Tackling me and giving me a near concussion? Or the fact that we’re now both stuck here?” Scott asked, gesturing at the cave-in. Following the direction of Scott’s hand, Jimmy looked to the cave opening. Or rather, the lack of a cave opening. The creeper explosion must have hit some loose gravel in the ceiling, because the weak rock had given way to a whole mess of stone to fall and block off their only exit.

“Maybe we could dig through it?” Jimmy wondered. Scott rolled his eyes.

“With your luck, that would only make it worse. Besides I didn’t bring a pickaxe, and I don’t think you could dig that out by yourself. We’re just gonna have to turn around and hope there’s another way out,” Scott said, turning and heading deeper in the cave. Jimmy scrambled after him in protest.

“Or we could stay here and call for help! I’m sure one of my allies would be willing to help me, or maybe you’ve got a closer ally who’d be willing to dig us out-”

“No. We’re better off trying to find our own way out. Besides, I don’t have allies- having alliances means having enemies too, and I’d much rather stay above the conflict if you don’t mind,” Scott said, stubbornly continuing forward. Jimmy groaned, reluctantly following after Scott.

“Fine, have it your way. But you let me know when you change your mind,” Jimmy said, not having the energy to argue with Scott’s weird animosity towards alliances. So instead, he followed his not-really-enemy but not-really-friend either deeper into the darkness, torchlight their only savior.

-

Going deeper into the cave was not providing them with a way out. They did, however, come across a mineshaft- which was a small but still not great shimmering light of hope. It was possible the mineshaft could be connected to another cave that could lead them out, so braving the mineshaft it was. Besides, there could be good loot to be had- even if Scott claimed most of it since it was, technically, part of his empire. And that was fine with Jimmy, he was trying to offer what he had found to Scott earlier anway. However, there was one problem with mineshafts, and that was the tendency of cave spiders making their nests in them. And it figures with Jimmy’s rotten luck that they would come across one of those nests. And even worse, Jimmy managed to get a hand caught in one of the webs at the edge of it.

“Stop struggling, you’re just gonna alert them that we’re here!” Scott hissed, trying to cut away at the cobwebs ensnaring Jimmy’s hand.

“If you cut at it any slower, they’re just gonna see us anyway!” Jimmy whisper-shouted back, but kept his hand still as Scott asked anyhow. But of course, as if things couldn’t get any worse, one of the cave spiders had noticed them. It jumped at Jimmy, but Scott moved in front of him just in time to intercept it instead, and struggled only for a moment before he managed to kill it. Scott was hunched over for a moment, trying to catch his breath- and despite his warnings not to, Jimmy yanked his hand free from the cobwebs to rush to his side, seeing the glittering red eyes in the distance. He opened his mouth to ask if Scott was alright, but he abruptly stood upright and pushed Jimmy towards a corridor of the mineshaft that was not infested with cave spiders.

“Go, we gotta get out of here!” he cried, running and pulling Jimmy along with him. Jimmy didn’t argue, keeping pace with Scott and cutting down a few cave spiders that got too close. They ran and turned down corridor after corridor, until they were sure that the spiders had lost interest. They stopped for a moment to catch their breath, and Jimmy eyed Scott with concern. He was holding his shoulder and looked rather pale- well, paler than usual.

“Scott?” Jimmy asked, voice gentle. Scott squeezed his eyes shut, like Jimmy had spoken too loudly, and took a beat longer to respond than Jimmy would have liked.

“I’m fine,” Scott said, not very convincingly at all. Jimmy frowned, stepping forward and reaching for the hand Scott had clasped tightly over his own shoulder. Jimmy instantly knew something was wrong when Scott didn’t push him away and let him remove his hand. Scott’s hand came away slick with blood, and Jimmy hissed in sympathy at the sickly green state of the wound. Cave spider bite, right in the gap of Scott’s armor. And it seemed the venom was working pretty fast through his system. Suddenly, as if taking his hand off of his shoulder had sapped all his energy, Scott’s knees gave out and he collapsed into Jimmy. With a startled gasp, Jimmy managed to catch Scott, wrapping his free arm around his waist and trying to keep him somewhat upright. His hand still clutched Scott’s, and his hand had shifted to clutch Jimmy’s back just as tightly. His head drooped down to rest on Jimmy’s shoulder, the antlers of his circlet poking him slightly, and a cold spike of fear shot through Jimmy at how feverish Scott’s forehead felt against his neck. Scott had only just been bitten. If he was in such bad shape already… Jimmy didn’t want to think about it.

“You’re hot,” Jimmy blurted, a little horrified. Scott let out a borderline delirious chuckle.

“Took you long enough to notice,” Scott teased, voice weak with pain. Jimmy let out a startled laugh.

“Scott, quit flirting for one minute, you’re dying,” Jimmy reprimanded, a little shocked at how wobbly his own voice sounded.

“I’ll just respawn, it’s not the end of the world. Nice to know you care though,” Scott said tiredly, although Jimmy could hear the slight smile in his voice. Jimmy froze a bit at his words. Yeah… that was right, Scott would just respawn. He’d lose his stuff and his enchantment levels, but he’d wake up in bed, right as rain. So why was Jimmy so worried for a moment? Why did Scott dying in his arms suddenly feel like the end of the world? And most baffling of all, why did the thought of losing someone who was at most an acquaintance rattle him so much? Yet here he was, clinging to Scott like he would disappear forever.

“I… of course I care! You’re the one who’s pushing me away, not the other way around,” Jimmy said, deciding not to address the fact that he had somehow forgotten about respawning being a thing. Scott laughed humorlessly, and him not having any sort of witty response was extremely telling of how worse off Scott was doing. He had been leaning into Jimmy more and more throughout the weak banter, and Jimmy finally knelt down and shifted Scott to be comfortably resting in his lap, his head still leaning on his shoulder, but turned so that Jimmy could see him.

“Your face makes for a pretty last thing to see before I die,” Scott said softly, and Jimmy blinked in surprise, unsure of how to take that.

“Didn’t realize a side effect of cave spider venom was delirium,” Jimmy settled on, causing Scott to let out a pained wheeze of a laugh.

“Think the side effect is actually brutal honesty,” Scott said, sounding a little wistful. Okay, well Jimmy really didn’t know how to respond to that. Scott, dying in his arms and looking at him all soft and adoring like Jimmy was a- a lover or something. So maybe it was that gentle look in Scott’s eyes even as he was dying, or Jimmy not wanting to deal with the blood of a fellow ruler on his hands, or just not wanting to watch someone die in general that caused him to shift and reach for something in his bag he had found in their journey through the mineshaft. He held out a golden apple to Scott, who looked at it with confusion.

“Nabbed it from a chest when you weren’t looking. I know you’ll just respawn, but cave spider venom is a pretty terrible way to go,” Jimmy said, smiling softly. Scott just blinked, not moving to take the apple.

“Jimmy-”

“Shut up and take the apple, Scott,” Jimmy insisted, for once cutting Scott off instead of the other way around. Scott sighed, and with a shaking hand, he grabbed the apple and took a bite. Almost immediately, color came back to Scott’s face and the green started to recede from the shoulder wound. A few more bites, and the bleeding stopped, the wound started closing up, and Scott was no longer leaning on Jimmy so heavily. He did, however, seem perfectly content to stay in Jimmy’s arms. Jimmy couldn’t really find it in himself to detach himself from Scott either.

“Thanks,” Scott said softly, like he was afraid to say it, after he had finished the apple. Jimmy chuckled.

“I should be thanking you, you’re the one who threw yourself between me and that cave spider,” Jimmy said, immensely glad that he remembered finding the golden apple before it was too late. Otherwise Scott, who usually didn’t seem to like him, would have died because of Jimmy.

“You saved me from the creeper earlier, I was just repaying the favor. Of course now I owe you again, because you healed me,” Scott said with a mock irritated tone, grinning all the while. Jimmy unceremoniously dumped him on the cave floor for that, ignoring his startled shout of protest to instead stand up.

“Well, maybe you could repay me by finally letting me contact one of my allies to help us,” Jimmy replied with a grin of his own. Scott pouted a little, still grumpy about being forcibly moved off of Jimmy’s lap.

“That was rude, I’m still recovering! Jerk,” Scott huffed, but there was no true anger in his tone. Jimmy shook his head fondly, offering a hand to Scott. He took it, and only stumbled a little bit as he got back to his feet. Fortunately Jimmy was there to steady him, ignoring the “I-told-you-so” look Scott gave him.

“You’ll live, thanks to me. Now can I message for help so that we can get out of here?” Jimmy asked. Scott let out a dramatic sigh.

“I guess so. Give them the coordinates for the cave entrance, we can head back in that direction and meet them halfway,” Scott said. Jimmy nodded, getting out his communicator to send a message to Joel.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna stay in this mineshaft any longer than we have to,” Jimmy said as he typed. Scott hovered over his shoulder, correcting Jimmy on the coordinate numbers before he sent the message off to Joel. Luckily, Joel wasn’t busy and responded fairly quickly, saying that he was on his way.

“Ready to get out of here?” Scott asked, once Jimmy had read Joel’s message to him.

“Absolutely,” Jimmy said, pocketing his communicator and walking side by side with Scott.

-

They reached the cave-in before Joel had arrived, but they didn’t have to wait too long before they heard Joel calling out for them. It seemed Lizzie had come along as well, as Jimmy could hear her voice along with Joel’s. He was a little surprised to hear her, as Jimmy wasn’t officially allied with Lizzie, but he supposed it made sense. Lizzie was married to Joel, and Lizzie’s empire was connected to Jimmy’s by water.

“We’re here!” Jimmy called back.

“Oh good, you didn’t kill each other,” Joel called back, a smile in his voice. Jimmy rolled his eyes, even if Joel couldn’t see him.

“I’ll have you know I saved Scott twice in these caves,” Jimmy shot back with a grin. Scott groaned in annoyance.

“You’re gonna hold this over my head, aren’t you,” Scott grumbled.

“Only a little bit,” Jimmy replied, relieved when Scott wasn’t actually all that annoyed, due to the chuckle he got in response.

“Stand back boys, I’ve got TNT!” Lizzie exclaimed, breaking the moment of banter. Scott and Jimmy exchanged wide-eyed glances, scrambling away from the rubble.

“Uh… you do know that explosions are what got us into this mess in the first place, right?” Scott asked nervously.

“It’ll be faster than trying to dig you out,” Joel replied, before the click of a flint and steel was heard.

“Does it alarm you at all that they have TNT already?” Scott whispered.

“They’re my allies. Or at least Joel is. Not sure why Lizzie came along, actually,” Jimmy replied with a shrug. Before Scott could reply, the TNT went off, destroying the rubble and revealing Joel and Lizzie on the other side.

“When I heard Joel was off to rescue the sweet swamp boy, I had to come along!” Lizzie said with a grin, poking her head through the hole in the rubble. Jimmy’s face flushed in embarrassment at the nickname, while Scott was poorly hiding his laugh behind a cough.

“She was with me when I got your message, I figured the extra help couldn’t hurt,” Joel explained.

“Well thank you, both of you. We really appreciate it,” Jimmy said, climbing out of the hole in the rubble with Lizzie’s help.

“You’re welcome! Although it sounds like you had the rescuing Scott part handled,” she teased with a wink.

“Hey! The only reason he saved me the second time was because I got bit by a cave spider that was coming for him. So I did some saving too,” Scott protested as he followed Jimmy out. Joel looked to Scott with concern.

“Do you need any health potions? I brought some just in case,” Joel offered, starting to dig through his pack.

“Nah, Jimmy gave me a golden apple that he stole from me,” Scott said, nudging Jimmy playfully. Jimmy laughed, pushing at him back.

“I didn’t steal it, I just took it from a minecart chest before you noticed it,” Jimmy retorted.

“A minecart chest that was in my empire,” Scott shot back with a grin. Jimmy was going to snap back, but Lizzie came to stand in between them.

“How about we leave before any more near death situations happen,” she suggested. Both Jimmy and Scott smiled sheepishly, before following Lizzie and Joel out of the cave.

-

The four of them had made it back to Scott’s home, with plenty of daylight to spare for the long journey Jimmy, Lizzie, and Joel had ahead of them to their own empires. Jimmy had told Joel and Lizzie to go on, saying that he would catch up with them in a bit. He wanted to talk to Scott first. About what, he wasn’t entirely certain, but he felt like he couldn’t just up and leave right away without saying something, not after everything that had happened. But for the moment, the two of them were stood in the entryway of Scott’s house a little awkwardly. Scott’s home was bigger than the last time Jimmy had seen it, but part of him was touched to see that he still had the pufferfish- rather the pufferish- mounted above his door. Jimmy wasn’t exactly sure why he had given Scott a misspelled token of peace, but it had just felt… right.

“So… have you changed your mind on alliances at all?” Jimmy asked, settling on teasing Scott a bit instead of tackling any sort of emotional conversation right away. Scott let out a mildly bitter laugh.

“I… will admit that there are advantages to having alliances. And you, Lizzie, and Joel seem alright. I just… well, if I’m being totally honest, I’m not really opposed to alliances… it’s just- it’s like there’s this part of me, maybe something from a past life, that knows that getting tangled up in alliances can lead to war and loss,” Scott said, heartbreak lacing his words. Jimmy frowned in sympathy. He didn’t know what Scott had been through before starting an empire, but it sounded like it was nothing fun. He put a comforting hand on Scott’s shoulder- and was instantly greeted with a flurry of images both familiar and unfamiliar. A flower forest. Homes carved into hills. Decaying skin and burnt banners. Flowers nestled in teal hair. Being helpless to watch as a loved one- a husband?- was shot down. Darkness, then light again. Then a feeling of home, and a joyful reunion.

Jimmy jerked back from Scott like had been burned. The real world filtered back into view with Scott wide-eyed and surprised as Jimmy was. What- what was that? They felt like memories, or maybe a dream. And the person with teal hair, the husband?! That was undeniably Scott, just far less regal and with rounded ears, not pointed ones. Jimmy wasn’t sure what that was, but suddenly the fear of losing Scott in the mineshaft made a startling amount of sense.

“Did you… see that?” Jimmy asked. Maybe he was hallucinating, did he get bit by a cave spider too? Maybe this was all some weird fever dream.

“I- yeah. I was kind of kidding about the past life thing… but was that even us? Or just… I dunno, a version of us from an alternate reality?” Scott pondered, looking like his brain was going a mile a minute. Jimmy found himself looking at the pufferish of peace. Was that something significant in that… other life? Or was that truly something of his own volition?

“Must be some sort of alternate reality, I think we were married,” Jimmy said with a laugh. Scott laughed as well, shaking his head.

“Yeah, can you imagine? Why would I marry some swamp boy?” Scott teased.

“And why would I marry a stuffy elf ruler?” Jimmy teased right back. The two of them laughed, but there was regret and maybe a smidge of longing tinged in both of their voices.

“I think I could at least stand being allied with some swamp boy,” Scott said softly, after a moment of silence. Jimmy smiled.

“Allies it is then,” Jimmy said, holding out his hand. Scott gingerly took it, and when there weren't any flashes of alternate or past lives, he shook it firmly.

“Allies,” Scott said, squeezing Jimmy’s hand before letting go. Jimmy bid him goodbye, exiting his home to meet up with Lizzie and Joel. And maybe, just maybe, Jimmy allowed himself to treasure the little flutter his heart made when Scott had squeezed his hand. He was sure his past- or alternate, who knows- self would appreciate it.

-

MCYT Tag List (ask to be added/removed!): @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @hetapeep41 @space-ace123

[the-phantom-ender]

okay serious entity assignments time now because i said i might yesterday and i am better rested now.

first off, ill say that like... i dont know everything about every empire, i might be a little off base with some of the members i know less about.

second, the thing about aligning characters with entities is that it doesnt tend to be as easy as just something they fear. they also have to thrive in it. if all it took was fear, there would be lots of people marked directly by the web, if all it took was the ability to thrive, most introverts would be marked by the lonely. it takes a careful balance of both (unless the characters hand is forced, which we do technically see in t.ma canon at least once) for someone to be effectively marked by a fear, much less be an avatar (which is... a loose term at best but i digress because the explanatory bit is getting long dfjkhdf)

stuffs under the cut because it got. long. and feel free to share your own thoughts about them!!

shelby: an interesting case where my gut said corruption but upon reflection i think aligning her with the eye makes more sense? she definitely is shaped by corruption, but her arc thus far has mostly revolved around her desire to learn and her fear of what that knowledge might reveal. after her encounters with xornoth, she also seems very nervous about the idea of being watched.

lizzie: the vast is obvious for her, but it does make sense. its the fear of heights and deep waters and human insignificance, infinity. lizzie absolutely thrives in the depths and holds no fear for the waters but she does show hesitance when it comes to leaving. the danger comes from the outside, the other. which seems more like the lonely, sure, but the vast and lonely link greatly.

joel: im a little biased with the desolation alignment for joel because of 3l. i still think it could work for empires, but... the stranger might work better. i dont think theres anything quite as 'stranger' as filling your home with statues of yourself, giving workers your face, but everything is just slightly... wrong. be it that they dont fit quite right or that their limbs are leather and wood. Unfamiliarity, the uncanny.

gem: so id originally said eye for gem but @loganprobably (i hope the tags cool sjgkhdfh) mentioned the lonely and... both work i think. gem has an appreciation for knowledge, for awareness and learning. but shes also in a position where she both isolates herself and gets overly involved. being one of the people to try to ally with everyone but having a clear side picked. the welcome and the shunning. whats a girl gotta do for some peace and quiet?

scott: scott is... hard. itd be so easy to just throw lonely or eye at him because he stays to himself and knows a lot. id wager the web might work better, though. he keeps his distance, keeps an eye on all that goes on, and... makes no moves. he waits, plans ahead. if war brews he needs to be able to side with the winners. he shows a distain for the idea of being controlled and avoids situations where he could be. hes careful with his choices when theyre made.

jimmy: jimmy. lonely, but for a different reason than gem would be. he is friendly and kind and cares deeply for others, yet hes so clearly... the outcast, even within his own circles. hes the picked on, the betrayed. a friend to all but loved, respected, by none. in his times of need he is forgotten, silenced. yet he doesnt seem to hate the loneliness, just the fact that no one came.

joey: oh god here we go. joeys hard to pin down. the hunt might work? he could fall into the lonely but being lost doesnt inherently mean lonely (it actually ties more in with the vast). i say the hunt, though, because he refuses to back down from his stances, even if theyre objectively wrong, and will do so by whatever means necessary. hell instigate the death of others for the sake of getting what he wants.

fwhip: the slaughter. sacrifice and destruction follow him in everything and he thrives in it. his violence isnt entirely mindless but he has a penchant for war and the things that go into it. heres where my stuff starts getting less cohesive as i watch these members much less ;^^

sausage: the corruption and the desolation lay equal claim on sausage. in everything he plays tricks and feigns niceties and makes himself out to be the one in the right. all the way he makes it seem as if hes kind and just in his actions even if his motives are chaos and destruction. he still holds a fear for things going wrong and holds tight to his alliances.

pixl: the end. his vigil is very very 'end' to me. death, to him, is inevitable, a fact of life, and he choses to honor it and give it respect. in all things he does he knows death to be a cause and an end to the means. even if his trickery may just be a signal of the spiral... whos to say?

katherine: okay. bear with me for this one, yeah? the flesh. no im not only saying this because of the bone garden. the fear that we are just meat and bones, the realization that animals go to the slaughter. i believe its a fact that many involved with the flesh become vegetarian after encounters and her whole thing is plants. she shows a distaste for killing animals but a desire to use them in projects.

pearl: the dark. yes, this is the obvious choice, but i do have reason beyond it. pearls character in empires is directly contrary to her name. she revels in the light and lives around sunflowers and growth. despite this she will let herself work into the night, she will let herself turn a blind eye to damage being done. what she cant see cant hurt her.

bonus:

xornoth: the extinction. i know there are no actual avatars of the extinction in the source, however: it makes sense, right? more than this creature is corruption or the end it wants mortals gone. it wants mortals gone and to be released and freed to do this deed.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

3rd life, Tango and Impulse are the last two standing?

this was the first 3rd Life request i received and oh boy have i wanted to work on it for so long. apologies for the older ones i havent touched yet; i’m getting to them! i’m just in more of a 3rd Life mood atm :)

...

  Etho drowned

  Impulse stares at the death message on his communicator with wide eyes. “Oh my gosh,” he whispers hoarsely. “He did it… Tango got him…”

  He checks the tab list. Etho is gone. Only two red names stare back at him: his own and Tango’s. The endgame he’s been avoiding for weeks is finally here. 

  Impulse continues trading with his villagers, though there doesn’t seem to be much point anymore. Tango is undoubtedly on his way here right now, and he’ll probably want to end things right here and now. There’s only two people left, both on red. One more death will end the game, no matter who dies. 

  He finds himself hoping that Tango will fall into a ravine or get exploded by a creeper before he even makes it here. But he knows it won’t happen. There’s only two ways this could end, and neither of them are very appealing to him. 

  All too soon, he hears the familiar voice of his best friend call his name. Wincing briefly, he turns and finds Tango standing in the entrance to his villager trading hall. “Hi, Tango.”

  “You saw in chat, right?” Tango’s red eyes are glowing bright, as is the red heart on his neck. “I got him. My trap worked!” 

  Impulse nods. “I saw. Heck of a way to kill your close friend.”

  “Yeah, well, he would’ve killed me with no hesitation, so I did what I had to do to survive.”

  “You’ve done a lot of things like that,” Impulse remarks carefully. “Remind me again who you’ve killed?”

  “Grian, Bdubs, Scott, Jimmy, Ren, and now Etho,” says Tango gleefully. “Etho’s my first red lifer, though. Gotta say, there’s a hell of a rush in taking someone’s last life and knowing they won’t be able to come back and confront you.”

  Impulse slowly shakes his head. “That’s a really… cold thing to say. Remember, we don’t know exactly what happens when we lose our last life. It’s likely we just appear back on our normal servers, but Grian said he didn’t even know that for certain.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Tango rolls his eyes. “Whatcha up to?”

  “Getting some books to enchant my stuff so you’ll have a harder time killing me,” Impulse wants to say. Instead, he opts for the safe answer and says, “Just some trading. You… want some emeralds?”

  “Nah, I don’t need to trade right now.”

  The two fall silent for a moment.

  “So I guess we should address the elephant in the room,” says Impulse slowly. “We’re the only ones left. The last two standing.”

  “Uh huh.” Tango’s eyes are still worryingly sparkling red. “We are. And don’t think I’m stupid, Impy. I know about the traps you put around your base. Plus the ones in Renchanting and the desert.”

  “I didn’t put those there.”

  “Whatever. Point is: I know where all the traps are. So don’t think you’re gonna get the drop on me. And when it comes to PvP, I’m stronger.”

  “Are you trying to tell me to just lay down and accept my death?” Impulse demands.

  “Hell no. Don’t do that! That’d be the worst way to end this whole thing.” Tango pauses a moment. “Who’ve you killed, again?”

  “I… I killed Joel and Cleo.”

  “And?” prompts Tango pointedly. 

  Impulse winces. “And… you. I took your second life.”

  “Yes, yes you did. And I’m not gonna let you take another.”

  “I don’t want to do that, Tango. I may be a red lifer but I don’t want to hurt you again.”

  “Too bad,” Tango says coldly. “This is the moment I’ve been waiting months and months for. Two people left. I’ve done too much and fought too hard to delay my victory any longer. Come to the village with your best armour and your best sword, and if you’re not there in five minutes, I’ll hunt you down and kill you without mercy. Got it?”

  Impulse can hardly hold back a shiver at the viciousness in his best friend’s voice. “G-Got it.”

  “Good.”

  Impulse watches Tango leave, before letting out a deep breath. He can’t deny he’s terrified; this is the final confrontation. Either he or Tango won’t make it out alive. And he has a suspicion as to which one will lose their last life first. As blunt as Tango had been, he’s right. Tango knows where all the traps are, he’s better at PvP than Impulse, and he has the fortune to have known Impulse long enough to be able to reliably anticipate any tricks he could come up with. 

  Impulse hardly stands a chance.

  After assembling his best armour under the circumstances, Impulse takes his enchanted diamond sword and heads out into the village. He can already see Tango sitting atop one of the houses, legs dangling over the side. Tango’s armour is iron but enchanted, whereas Impulse’s is diamond and unenchanted. He doesn’t know which will be better in this scenario but he’s leaning towards the enchanted armour. 

  Tango spots him approaching and jumps down from the house, swinging his own enchanted diamond sword. “Sorry it has to be this way, Impulse. I hope you know that however this finishes, you’ll always be my best friend.”

  Somehow, I don’t think you’ll be very happy with me if I’m the one who somehow wins after all this, Impulse thinks. 

  Aloud, he says, “I’m sorry too.”

  A brief pause follows his words.

  Then Tango charges forward and the fight begins.

  Impulse blocks Tango’s first two blows, but the third glances off his armour. This completely throws him off and Tango lands a few more hits on his armour. 

  Losing his nerve, Impulse scrambles backwards and takes off running, hoping to give himself time to think of something.

  “Hey!” Tango yells. “What are you doing?! Get back here!”

  Impulse sprints as fast as he can towards Bdubs and Cleo’s abandoned castle. Without slowing, he jumps on the ruined planks of the drawbridge and makes it across to the other side. When he dares to look back, he notices Tango skidding to a halt on the other side of the moat. 

  Impulse involuntarily nods to himself. Tango hates parkour, even simple ones. 

  After taking a moment to compose himself, Impulse turns and spots Tango halfway across the bridge, jumping steadily from one plank to another. Panicking, Impulse jumps on the pressure plate in the centre of the room, before bolting for the stairs.

  Tango has just reached the entrance when he hears the telltale hissing noise and he curses. He doesn’t have enough time to follow Impulse to the stairs and he knows it, so all he can do is dive back across the drawbridge. 

  The TNT goes off a second later, sending Tango flying onto the bank. It’s been placed in such a strategic way that it only destroys the lower floor; the second floor, which Impulse has managed to reach, is entirely untouched. 

  He grabs a spare bow and some arrows, and fires a few out the slit window at Tango, who is struck in the leg by one and has to retreat to avoid getting hit by the others.

  Impulse takes a deep breath. This is a good position; he has the high ground, as it were. He has the advantage right now. 

  Unfortunately, that advantage becomes a lot less palpable when he realises his meagre arrow stock has run out. 

  Through the split window, he spots Tango running back across over the drawbridge, clearly realising that Impulse is out of ammunition. His leg is bleeding from where he’s pulled the arrow out but he doesn’t seem to care right now. 

  Impulse rushes for the second set of stairs and bursts out onto the top of the castle. Over the ramparts, he can see the long abandoned village he used to call home and he’s briefly gripped with a deep sense of sadness and nostalgia. 

  A few seconds later, he hears footsteps behind him and whirls round to find Tango charging towards him. With only a split second warning, Impulse ducks under his outstretched arm and rushes for the stairs again, but Tango sweeps his legs out from under him. Impulse lets out a cry of pain as he lands heavily on his wrist.

  “NO!” Tango yells, standing over him with his sword, forcing him to roll over and look him in the eye. “You’re not running away again! I’ve waited TOO long for this; now fight me!”

  Impulse responds by kicking Tango hard in his already injured leg, before rolling to his feet and taking advantage of Tango’s distracted state to shove him away. 

  Tango stumbles back, his mind fuzzy from the pain. His diamond sword dangles in his grasp. His chest heaves as he gasps for breath.

  “Tango…” Impulse straightens up, a sympathetic look on his face. “Please. We don’t have to resolve it this way. Let’s just live together in this world until one of us dies naturally. There’s no reason for us to murder each other just to win this stupid game.”

  ��No,” growls Tango softly. “You’ve no idea what I’ve sacrificed to get here. If somehow we do go back to Hermitcraft after we die in this goddamn world, do you think anyone’s still gonna wanna be friends with me?”

  “Then why burn all your bridges like that?” Impulse demands. “3rd Life is temporary but we’ll be on Hermitcraft for decades to come. Why throw it all away?”

  “Y-You don’t understand. I have to win this. Th-There’s no other way to end this.”

  Impulse carefully steps towards his best friend. “Tango. Plea-.” 

  “I SAID NO!”

  Tango charges at Impulse, who intercepts him and throws him away from him.

  What he hasn’t noticed is how close he is to the edge of the parapet. 

  Tango manages to catch Impulse’s wrist, pulling him to the ground, but the shock of the landing releases Tango’s grip on him. 

  Impulse gasps as he realises that his friend has disappeared over the side of the parapet. He hardly dares look, but his communicator going off only confirms what he already knows to be true. 

Tango fell from a high place.

  Tango is gone. 

  Impulse has won. 

  He struggles to a sitting position, wincing at the pain in his arm. It’s over. It’s really over.

  After all this time, all these deaths, he’s the last one standing. The “winner”, if you could even call him that. He’s done so much to survive: things he’s ashamed of, things that will stay with him for the rest of his life. The things he’s witnessed will also haunt him; the deaths of everyone around him, including his best friends, as he’s unable to do anything about it.

  After what feels like hours, he discards his armour and steps up onto the parapet, the breeze ruffling his t-shirt and shorts. At the bottom, he can almost picture Tango’s body, broken on the hard ground below him. He doesn’t know if his death will take him back to Hermitcraft, back to Tango, but anything is better than staying here alone in this world, void of happiness and life. 

  “I’m coming home, Tango,” he murmurs. 

  With that, he lets himself fall.

[babbushka]

Hi Mrs. Z! I hope you’re doing well, lovely. I wanted to request Flip teaching his wife how to drive. I imagine how patient and doting he would be looking after her while she masters this new skill. Thanks love! ❤️

A/N: I’m sorry to say this my dear anon, but there is nothing patient about Flip Zimmerman when it comes to driving, lol! But, I hope that you enjoy this chaotic ficlet, even if it isn’t exactly what you had hoped for!

(2.3k, cw: swearing/cursing, arguing, mentions of stabbing, blood, extremely unsafe driving practices, Flip making his girlfriend cry but for only like 2 seconds I promise it’s not really angsty lol) 

If Flip had to think about your flaws, he knows he would come up with a pretty short list. There’s not much that you can’t do, especially when you put your mind to something. He has always thought this, let the record show, he thinks you are capable and strong.

He also thinks you are an absolutely fucking nightmarish driver.

Bracing himself with what he has decided can only be called the “jesus!!”-strap on the passenger side of your car, Flip tries to hang on as you tear through the roads. There’s too much happening all at once, he’s got a million things he wants to say, but as you run yet another red light, all he can manage is to shout out a panicked, “Slow down!!”

“I can’t slow down! You’re bleeding all over the fucking place!” You’re just as panicked as he is, which is a much bigger problem because you are the one currently trying to navigate rainy roads in a two-thousand-pound death machine.

It is true, yes, that he is bleeding all over the place. He may or may not have gotten stabbed in a chase that ultimately led to nothing on a big bust that one of the rookies fucked up for the squad. However, he wasn’t so sure that that meant he wasn’t fully capable of driving. He had wrapped himself in a compress of damp towels and plastic-wrap, and he had wholly intended to take the keys when you threw what could only be described as a fit at the state of him.

Which is how Flip finds himself in the very rare position of being the passenger, with you behind the wheel, driving like a bat out of hell.

“Oh my god – you can’t just run a red light like that – who the hell taught you how to drive ketsl? You’re a maniac!” You barrel through another intersection as the windshield wipers are going a mile a minute, and Flip abandons the strap to light up his sixth cigarette of the ride.

And then, you turn to him with a deep scowl, and throw it right back in his face as you point out one of the biggest regrets of Flip Zimmerman’s life, as you remind him that, “You did!”

“I’m going to die like this. Do you know how embarrassing that’s going to be, honey? I’m a decorated officer of the law, I served two fucking tours in Vietnam and I’m going to die because you can’t – watch out!” Flip has to brace himself again as you swerve around a corner too sharply on wet roads, the tires screeching as you burn rubber underneath your wheels. “You’re so fucking lucky you’re pretty, you know that? Pretty girls like you don’t go to jail like they should for bein’ a menace on the fuckin’ roads. If I were in a better frame of mind I’d give you a ticket – no, worse than that! I’d lock you up, house arrest, no more drivin’ for the rest of your days.”

“Okay fine, you drive then.” You snap, throwing your hands up with exasperation, abandoning the wheel entirely, “If you’re going to just bitch the whole time you can do it.”

“Ketsl!” Flip yells as he grabs the wheel so that the two of you don’t go crashing into a street lamp, “Jesus you’re gonna kill us. How’d you even get your fucking license anyway? Bet you smiled so pretty at the schmuck at the DMV and batted your lashes. You’re a menace, I can’t believe you.”

Yes, he was the one who taught you how to drive. Or at the very least, he’s the one who attempted. He remembers it as if it were only yesterday, and tries not to think that he’s watching his life flash before his eyes…

                                                        ~~~~~~~~

You had been waiting for him on your front porch when he came pulling up to the curb one day after work. Dressed real smartly, you bounded over to the driver’s window and he rolled it down enough that you could lean in and give him a big wet kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what do you want to do today?” Flip had asked, starry eyed that he got to call you his girl. He had a couple plans in mind for the evening, but he always liked to ask you first, because your input mattered more.

“You can’t laugh.” You started off by saying, which by all accounts should have been Flip’s first clue that it was going to be a stressful day.

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because I was hopin’ you’d teach me how to drive.”

You look too hopeful for Flip to say no flat-out, but he really wants to. He really really wants to say no. But he’s a gentleman, or at least he tries to be, so he tries to find a polite way to say it, and eventually settles on, “…You sure about that?”

“Yeah! C’mon it looks real easy, and you’re a great teacher and you love me so much and I thought that it would be nice.” You’re determined, and he loves that about you in just about every other circumstance, as you continue on and on, “You know and then maybe if I get my license I could get a car and you wouldn’t have to go waitin’ on me all the time. I could pick you up from work, take you out to dinner.”

“But I like waiting on you and picking you up and taking you out to dinner.” Flip points out as he reaches through the window and pinches your nose playfully between his fingers, gives your face a little shake.

“Please Philly? Please won’t you teach me?” You pout and give him your best doe eyes, batting your lashes at him in the way that always gets him to say yes, and he sighs.

He brings you back to his house, and gets out and calls Jimmy, who he somehow manages to convince to bring his car over. Flip drives a stick-shift, and he can already tell that would be a nightmare in itself, but Jimmy drives an automatic, which he has a feeling is going to be easier.

You’re too excited to be learning that you don’t even question it, happily climbing into the passenger seat and marveling at all the dials and numbers on the dashboard. Flip slides into the passenger seat and hands you the keys.

“Okay, this here’s an automatic car. That means you don’t have to worry about shifting gears too quickly, and can focus on just controlling the car.” He explains, and you nod.

“How come we aren’t in your car?” You ask offhandedly, and Flip scratches at his goatee.

“Because I like my car.” He replies truthfully.

“Rude.”

“First step, turn the car on and check your mirrors.” Flip ignores the remark and tries to be encouraging as you turn the ignition and the engine rumbles underneath you. You jump a little, letting a happy laugh escape your lips at the marvel of automotive technology, and Flip tries not to be patronizing. It doesn’t work that well, “Very good, you’re doing great, you’re a natural. My girl, the natural.”

“You’re so mean to me why do I put up with you?” You chuckle, not wanting to feel like a dog who learned a new trick, even if that is sort of what it felt like.

“Love you,” Flip apologizes with a kiss, and checks to make sure the coast is clear before instructing, “Put the car in reverse, and slowly lift off the brake – ”

Either you have a different definition of slow, or this is going to be a lot harder than Flip thought, because his stomach is swooping up into his throat as you go speeding down the driveway, foot almost entirely off the pedal.

“Sorry!” You immediately slam on the brake, and Flip’s head smacks forwards against the dashboard, making you wince as your entire body tenses up, “I’m sorry, slowly, right got it, slowly.”

This should have been Flip’s second clue.

His patience manages to last for three entire minutes, before he just can’t take it anymore.

You’re out of the drive way now, having successfully avoided hitting the mailbox, and are now making right turns around the neighborhood, except that you really aren’t grasping how slow slow really is, and Flip’s seriously worried someone’s porch dog is going to be in major trouble.

“You have to slow down before you turn!” He grits his teeth, his foot instinctively pressing on a brake that isn’t there, and he wishes in the back of his head that he had rented one of those student driving cars as he fists a hand into his hair and bites the inside of his cheek, “Are your shoes filled with lead? What’s the matter with you? Who have you ever been in the car with that drives this fast?”

“You always speed like this!” You point out, but Flip doesn’t want to hear it.

“Yeah, on the highway! Not in a residential fuckin’ neighborhood – you know maybe that’s what you need, let’s get on the freeway, c’mon make a right here.” Flip instructs, and you let out an exasperated sigh and do as he says.

Ten minutes later, Flip is certain you’re going to drive him over a cliff, and it shows.

“Pull over – you know what, just fuckin’ – pull over. You don’t need to learn how to drive, okay? You don’t have to do anything from now on but sit there and look pretty, and eat some snacks. Okay?” He’s not shouting, not exactly, but his voice is raised with panic and irritation, patience completely gone out the window.

“Okay.” You reply, voice small, as you put on the flashers and hit the brakes, gravel flying everywhere underneath the tires as you pull onto the shoulder, away from the free-way.

Flip lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, and rubs at a pounding headache that formed, as you get out of the car and begin to walk away. Confused and concerned, Flip immediately wrenches open the door of the car and follows you, his tension and panic giving way to an altogether different fear when he notices you wiping at your eyes.

“Are you crying?” Flip demands, his voice a little too harsh, and you wince from it.

“No.” You scowl at him, your eyes absolutely filled with tears that keep welling up, clinging to your lashes.

“Aw ketsl don’t cry – ”

“I’m not fucking crying.” You cry, before throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation and defeat, “Sorry I’m such a shitty unteachable terrible awful driver.”

Flip feels a dagger go through his chest, he doesn’t think he’s ever made you cry. Never, not once, in all the time he’s known you, and now here he is, feeling like the biggest schmuck in the world, because he lost his temper.

Approaching you gently, Flip pulls you into his arms and kisses the top of your head, kisses all over your face, at your cheeks and chin.

“Hey, no one said any of that.” He whispers, rubbing his cheek against yours, trying to get you to calm down.

“You didn’t have to.” You sound so glum, and he hates himself for it, because it’s his fault.

“Look at me?” Flip grabs your cheeks in between his hands, squishes them every so slightly as he looks you in the eye and says seriously, “You are a great person, with many, many talents. And driving…like anything it’s all about practice. That’s just what you need, some practice.”

“It was a stupid idea in the first place, I don’t know what the fuck I was even thinkin’.” You try to shake him off, but he’s stronger than you and won’t let you go that easily.

“You were thinkin’ that you’d like to be independent and I don’t blame you.” Flip realizes, chewing on his lip. It was the 1960s now, women were starting to drive in greater numbers and you wanted to be one of them, you didn’t want to be some helpless damsel not able to get herself around. As much as Flip wanted to be the fella to take care of you, he couldn’t fault you for wanting to take care of yourself, so he sighs out a gentle, “Let’s give it another go? Will you drive us back to my house?”

“’Kay.” You hear the sincerity in his voice, and you nod.

“That’s my girl.” Flip kisses away those unshed tears, and leads you back to the car, opening the driver’s door for you.

“If you yell at me again though, I’ll let go of the wheel and you’ll have to fuckin’ deal with it.” You threaten, and Flip only chuckles, not thinking you’d ever mean it.

                                                       ~~~~~~~~

At the hospital, you sit on the edge of his bed and reach for his hand. Flip gives it to you, and you pull it to your lips, pressing a kiss to the wedding band. Those days seem so far away now, and really, you are a good driver. You are.

“I’m sorry.” You sigh, “I’m just worried about you. I always get worried when you show up at home bloody like that.”

“I shouldn’t have yelled, that was wrong of me.” Flip shakes his head, an amused smile on his lips. God it really was a good thing you were pretty, wasn’t it?

“Think I just need a little more practice?” You crack a grin, biting at your lip and echoing a sentiment that he had shared years and years ago.

“Yeah, we’ll start with a couple right turns as soon as I’m free to go.” Flip replies, and you huff out a laugh.

“I hate you, you know that?” You kiss his ring again, rubbing your cheek against his palm.

“What was that? I couldn’t here you, come a little closer…” Flip’s hand cups your cheek, winds into your hair a little as he guides your face down down down to kiss him.

Eyes closing, you press your smiles together, knowing that when he’s discharged after his pain killers start to wear off, when you drive home it’ll be a far calmer affair.

                                                       ~~~~~~~~

                                                       ~~~~~~~~

@mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen

[smaidjor]

i know they're losing (chapter 2)

Hello everyone! Since the last chapter received such a positive response (well, if screaming could be called a positive response), I've decided to not make you all wait long for the second chapter of this fic. Also, I have no self-control. Anyways!

Once again obligatory disclaimer this is characters not people, don't ship real people, etc.

Chapter Title: over snow and winter's morn

Chapter Wordcount: 3203

Content warnings: more discussion of death, also quite a bit of Scott being a bit of a dick. He's going through it, besties.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Actual fic under the cut:

Jimmy doesn’t get a chance to return the ring any time in the next few weeks. Scott must have told Katherine that he visited, since she doesn’t come to bother him about it, and every time Jimmy tries to go to Rivendell, something gets in the way. Demon attacks, urgent business in his empire, once even Scott’s own guards turning him away. Apparently Scott is a ‘busy elf’. Jimmy doesn’t doubt he is, but he also doesn’t doubt that Scott’s actively trying to avoid him. Scott is a petty man, ultimately, and Jimmy knows this, used to love it like he loved all his husband’s flaws, all his imperfections that were perfect to Jimmy. Now, though, it just hurts that Scott’s turning that pettiness on him.

Finally, something changes. Jimmy gets an invitation (in person!) from one of his closest allies; Lizzie wants to hold a ball, and she wants as many people as possible to come. It will be fancy and formal, with dancing and politics and all the things Jimmy’s just a bit awkward with, but he is an extrovert at heart, and well...Scott will be there, as Lizzie warns him.

“I know you and him don’t really get on, so I get if you don’t want to come. I really hope you will, though, it’s going to be a fun night!”

Jimmy nods. “I’ll be there! I need to talk to Scott anyways, actually, got to return this ring to him. It’s important, I think.”

“Gotcha! See you there,” Lizzie says with a broad smile. Jimmy appreciates that she doesn’t ask any questions about the ring, especially given that it’s the one thing holding together his emotional state right now.

And that’s how he finds himself frantically searching for something fancy enough to wear to a formal ball, wishing he’d had the forethought to plan for this a bit better. Scott would have planned, he thinks, would have had an outfit laid out for each of them and the time it would take them to get there exactly calculated.

He shakes that thought off, settling for a green tunic with copper accents. It’s not the most elegant thing in the world, especially when you take into account the slime that’s dripped onto it, but it’ll have to do. It’s representative of his empire for sure, and the copper is a nod to his ally. It’s good enough, and that’s what matters, Jimmy thinks.

Lizzie greets him when he enters the ballroom, smiling widely with her new fiance by her side. “Jimmy! Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah, yeah, I did make it! Here I am!” The smile he gives her is genuine; he likes Lizzie. She's fierce and kind all at once, the best kind of ally.

Joel offers him a brief wave, which Jimmy happily returns before Lizzie drags him off to chat.

“So, heard from a little birdy you’ve actually been visiting Scott,” Lizzie says, a grin like the cat that got the bird on her face.

“As a favor to Katherine,” Jimmy quickly clarifies.

She nods. “She did say that, yes. She also said she heard about the visit from Scott himself.”

Jimmy hates himself a little for being pathetic enough to ask “What did- did she say what he said? Was he talking about me?”

“She didn’t say exactly, but he seemed ‘shaken up’, apparently...and a little wistful.”

“Oh, no. Lizzie, no.”

“Say, why did you have his ring?” She’s still grinning, a little more evil this time.

“It’s a long story!” Jimmy blurts, and flees. How’s he supposed to say ‘oh we were married on a server where we thought we were going to permanently die and then we respawned here and now Scott’s refusing to talk to me because the grief over my last death is slowly killing him’ tactfully? There’s just no way to do it! Nice one, Jimmy, now she thinks you’re in love with him or something, he thinks ruefully. Not that he isn’t- wasn’t. Wasn’t. Scott’s made it very clear that he and Jimmy are through.

Still, even with his depressing thoughts, the ball is pretty okay. No one’s gotten assassinated, there haven’t been any demonic appearances, Lizzie’s already showing off her engagement ring, and he’s pretty sure Joey’s going off about how hot demons are. It’s a decent party, by empires standards.

Scott makes an appearance some twenty minutes or so later, stepping into the ballroom with typical elven grace. He’s not a very elven elf, as he once told Jimmy, short and sarcastic with a love for mortals, but he still looks twice as elegant as everyone else in the ballroom. The shakiness in his step from a few weeks ago seems entirely gone, and for a minute, Jimmy’s heart leaps in hope. Maybe he’s getting better?

Well, only one way to find out. Jimmy swallows the complicated knot of emotion in his chest as he crosses the ballroom, coming to an ungraceful stop in front of Scott. Up close, the elf looks worryingly pale, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He looks like a strong breeze might sweep him away.

“Lord Codfather,” Scott greets.

“Elvenking,” Jimmy returns, dipping his head a little. Look, Scott, he can be formal too, alright? “Care for a dance?”

Scott stares for a long moment before giving a single nod. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind.” He takes Jimmy’s outstretched hand in his own gloved one, letting Jimmy put a hand on his waist as they start into a simple waltz.

Now, Jimmy is a terrible dancer, and he’s not too proud to admit it. He steps on Scott’s feet, gets off-rhythm once or twice, and nearly crashes them straight into Lizzie and Joel. But despite their current status as enemies(ex-spouses?), Scott says nothing about it. He’s silent, in fact, seemingly caught up in the music. There’s something wistful about his expression, something soft and gentle hidden under his icy facade. If Jimmy tries hard enough, he can almost pretend that the two of them are back in 3rd life, dancing under the stars, and Scott is looking at him like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

The illusion is shattered, however, by how heavily Scott is leaning on him by the end of the dance. He’s unsteady on his feet, grip like iron on Jimmy’s hand and shoulder. Though Jimmy can’t feel his hands though the gloves, when he brushes against Scott’s arm, it’s still a little too cold to be entirely right.

The music slows and then pauses before the next song, and they head for the edge of the dance floor.

“Thank you for the dance, Codfather,” Scott says. He steps away, face falling back into the emotionless facade so quickly it’s hard to be sure the tender expression of a moment before wasn’t a dream.

That’s the final straw for Jimmy’s fragile self-control. “Can we please stop acting like we don’t know each other?”

“What else do you want from me?” Scott snaps back.

“I- something! Anything! Just acknowledge that I exist, won’t you?”

“Acknowledging you exist doesn’t mean I’m still in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” Jimmy says, a little softer, a little bitter. “I know, trust me. I just want you to stop- to stop hurting yourself to try and avoid pain!”

“That’s not what I’m do-”

“Then what are you doing? Enlighten me, o wise elf!” They’ve kept their voices low enough, but people nearby are still starting to stare at them. Jimmy can’t bring himself to care. “You told me it would destroy you to lose me, but you’re losing me now by pushing me away!”

Scott’s expression is pained for a moment before he covers it with a glare. “I’m trying to do what’s best for the both of us, Jimmy.”

“No you’re-”

“I am an elf, and I cannot love a mortal. Humans are quick flames, burning and changing quickly. You’ll fall in love again, and you’ll forget me. There will be a mortal who loves you- I’m sure there are many already.”

“But I don’t want a mortal,” Jimmy protests. “I want you.”

“You can’t have me.”

“But why? Why, Scott?” His voice breaks, embarrassingly enough. “You said you loved me, you promised me all the time we’d be able to- to carve out, to steal from the universe.”

“I can’t give you that!” Scott snaps. “You’ll live sixty more years, maybe, a fraction of my life, a blink of an eye to an elf, and I can’t even give you that long! Not when I have to be the elvenking before anything else. Nothing I can do will ever be enough for you.”

“Enough for me? For ME? All I want is for you not to die to your own dumb plan and acknowledge my existance once in a while!”

“And all I want is for you to realize I can’t love you again!”

“Why can’t you care about me?”

“Why can’t you move on?” Scott counters.

“You’re not moving on, you’re just trying to forget!” Jimmy shouts.

In the silence that follows, he realizes that most of the ballroom must have heard the end of their little lovers’ quarrel. In fact, Lizzie’s somehow appeared next to him, laying a hand on his arm.

“Is everything alright, boys?” Her tight smile says that they will most certainly get kicked out of the ball if they continue this, and Jimmy can’t blame her.

“My apologies, Ocean Queen,” Scott says, switching to a formal tone with ease that Jimmy envies. He dips his head in respect, and only Jimmy sees how his hands tremble. “Everything is alright, but I am afraid I will have to leave early.”

She smiles again, dangerous this time. “No need to worry, Lord Smajor. Do try to avoid picking fights with my allies, next time, though.”

“It won’t happen again,” he promises, and sweeps away.

“Coward!” Jimmy shouts after him, anger making him bold. “You’re a coward, Scott!”

“Stop it,” Lizzie scolds. “You’ve already made quite the scene, and I did essentially kick him out. I’m not sure how much further you really want to carry it.”

“He is though, Lizzie, he’s a coward! Doesn’t want to face me because that means facing- well, facing everything that’s happened!”

“What do you mean, everything that’s happened?” Lizzie turns to the gathered audience of people who have been watching the spat, shooing them off as best as possible. They slowly disperse, thank goodness. “You and he are enemies, right?”

Jimmy almost winces. “It’s a bit- it’s a bit more complicated than that.”

“I can see that. Jimmy, that looked like a messy breakup!”

“It, um, well, it was. Sort of.”

“Oh, Jimmy.” Lizzie’s giving him a sympathetic look, which she follows up with a tight hug. “Next time, how about we don’t invite him?”

He nods against her shoulder, rage leaving him as quickly as it came. Instead, he just feels...tired. “Thanks, Lizzie.”

“Of course. We look after each other, yeah?’

“Yeah.”

Jimmy leaves the ball exhausted, still reeling from everything that happened. The few lingering bits of anger are what gets him home, a bitter taste in his mouth from the bitter words he spat. Coward! You’re a coward, Scott! He refuses to regret them.

Scott’s ring nearly ends up in the swamp again, but Jimmy’s cooled down enough by the time he gets back that he can’t bear to throw it away. Instead, it goes in a box which he tucks into his old storage chest, somewhere he’ll never have to see it again. Scott can go to hell if he wants the ring back after all that.

-

For a while, Jimmy’s plan to tuck the ring and never think about Scott again seems to be working. Lizzie visits a few times to check on him, but she never asks specifically about Scott, and Jimmy doesn’t say anything about him. He receives radio silence from Rivendell, and he tells himself that it’s good, that he doesn’t want to hear from Scott.

So yes, his plan is working, up until he gets a knock on his door and opens it to find Scott there.

The elf looks terrible, frankly, almost worse than he did at the ball. His hair, which is usually so nicely done, is a mess, cyan strands falling all across his face. His clothes are wrinkled and have swamp mud on them, his eyes have dark circles as violent as bruises, and he’s swaying a tiny bit. In short, he looks like he didn’t sleep for a week, chugged coffee, and fought god in a denny’s parking lot.

Jimmy thinks he’s kinda hot.

No, he doesn’t. Fake news, brain.

“Hi,” Scott says.

“Scott? What- why are you here?” Jimmy’s voice rises, in shock or outrage even he doesn’t know.

“I came to apologize.” Though he looks like he’s going to pass out at any second, Scott’s voice is steady. “I was scared- I am scared. I’m terrified to lose you again. But I shouldn’t have pushed you away and hurt you.”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” Jimmy snaps, but there’s little real rage behind it.

“I know. I- uh- fuck.” Scott’s hands are shaking as he pulls out a little box from some hidden pocket. “I brought a gift as an apology.”

Jimmy takes it, curious despite himself, and finds that what’s inside is a silver bracelet with little crystals embedded in it. Flowers are the predominant design; he recognizes roses, hyacinths, irises, anemone, and poppies. On the underside, there’s elven lettering, though Jimmy has no clue what it says. The whole thing is a little clumsy, not quite as professionally made as the ring Scott once gave him, and Jimmy looks up at Scott. “Did you make this yourself?”

“Mhm. I did my best, but it’s not as nice as I’d like.”

“It’s pretty,” Jimmy says.

Scott’s shoulders slump with relief. “It’s spelled, too. Protection, good fortune, that sort of thing.”

“Do the flowers mean something?”

“They do.”

Jimmy doesn’t press for details.

“I-” Scott starts again, a tremble in his voice that wasn’t there before. “I’m sorry, Jimmy, I really am. I won’t ask you to forgive me, but I needed to apologize before my time ran out.”

“Is it that- that dire?”

The barest nod. “This is what I chose to do with it. Making that, coming here. You deserved an apology.”

There’s a moment of awkward silence, Jimmy staring down at the bracelet.

Scott breaks it. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to love me. I can’t promise you eternity. I can’t promise you happiness. I can’t promise you that I won’t have to be the elvenking first and a husband second. But I am yours still, if you’ll have me.”

A part of Jimmy is very tempted to throw both Scott’s gift and his love back in his face. He can’t bring himself to stay mad, though, not when Scott’s looking at him like that, with so much raw vulnerability. So much devotion, like Jimmy’s the most precious thing he’s ever seen. It would be so, so easy to break that last strand of fragile hope in his expression; he’s offering up his heart on a silver platter, ready to shatter. Jimmy could- should- yell at him, reject his gift, tell him that he’s ruined any chance he has at Jimmy’s love.

Jimmy kisses him instead. It’s messy and it’s sudden and he very nearly drops Scott’s gift in the swamp in his haste to tangle his hands in Scott’s hair and press their lips together, but it’s real.

The little startled noise Scott makes gets cut off by Jimmy’s mouth on his. Scott’s lips are chapped and taste a little of glowberries, but Jimmy doesn’t care. He’s going to kiss his damn husband, something he thought he was never going to get to do again.

When they finally have to separate, Scott’s breathing hard, cheeks flushed. It’s a good look on him, Jimmy thinks, much more alive than his pale, rigid expression from before.

“So, I’ll take that as you want to stay married?” Scott’s voice is wry, collected, but his blush ruins the smooth effect.

“Of course I do! You absolute idiot!”

“Just checking.”

Jimmy kisses him again, just to shut him up. Scott goes with it easily, leaning into Jimmy’s embrace without complaint.

They pull apart quicker this time, and Jimmy holds the bracelet out. “Can you help me put this on?”

Scott nods. His hands are cold against the skin of Jimmy’s wrist when he fastens the clasp, but Jimmy grabs them and holds them in his own warm ones until they don’t feel quite so much like ice. It’s something. It’s a beginning.

“Come in and catch up with me?” Jimmy offers.

Scott nods again, and he doesn’t let go of Jimmy’s hand when Jimmy turns to go inside.

They talk about a lot of things. Empires, 3rd life, nightmares. Pufferfish, cake, flowers. They talk about the trials and tribulations of ruling; really, Jimmy complains that people keep attacking him and Scott nods in sympathy.

Eventually, though, the sun is starting to set.

“I need to get home,” Scott says. “You need sleep, not to stay up all night talking.” He goes to get up, and Jimmy immediately lunges, catching his sleeve.

“Don’t go! Please,” he adds, feeling his face flush at how desperate he sounds.

“Jimmy, darling, we both need to sleep.”

“We can sleep! I just….nevermind.”

“No, no.” Scott kneels back down, peering at him like Jimmy’s a puzzle that needs solving. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Jimmy.”

“I don’t want to be alone!” Jimmy blurts, and immediately flushes again. “It’s just, I’ve been alone for a long time, and there’s this demon thing that keeps showing up, and I’ve only just got you back, I’m not ready to let you go, and-”

“Hold on. What was that about a demon?”

“There’s this demon creature that I keep seeing, and it’s really messing with me,” he manages. “It sounds like you, sometimes, but all distorted, and I can’t handle it! You know me, I’m not brave or smart or anything, I’m just Jimmy!”

Scott’s frowning, worry wrinkling his brow. “Alright. How about you come to Rivendell for the night, then? I can protect us both easier there.”

Jimmy nods, feeling especially pitiful as Scott helps him to his feet. “Thank you.”

“Always. Do you still have the ring I gave you?”

“I do, I just….give me a moment to remember where I put it.”

“Good. It’s important.” Scott doesn’t elaborate, and Jimmy is too distracted looking for the ring to ask what he means.

Scott’s offer of protection feels flimsier when he has to lean on Jimmy as they travel back to Rivendell, but even then, it’s impossible to feel quite so afraid now that Jimmy isn’t alone anymore. And it’s even harder to fear anything that could happen when he’s safe in a warm bed, his head tucked against his husband’s chest. They’ll be okay, Jimmy thinks. They’ve been given another chance, and this time they’re going to get it right.

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

The Jimmy Jab Games

Chapter 4: Race around Hogwarts- The End

~The Jimmy Jab Games Master~

Paring: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 5.1K

~Master~

Sirius was stuck.

“Fine! You don’t think you’re in love with her? Then tomorrow during whatever challenge Marlene comes up with, don’t flirt with her. In fact, go the whole day without flirting with her.”

Damn Evans.

It wasn’t that not flirting with you would be hard, at least Sirius didn’t think it would be, but it was the fact now he had to be completely aware of everything he was saying or even doing. There was one more day in this silly little competition and Sirius had completely lost himself in thinking about you. He pressed the palm of his hands into his eyes as he groaned, trying to get enough motivation to move on with the day.

“Hey Pads, did you and Y/N make a bet about who’s winning today?” James called over to the boy as Sirius grew confused, propping himself up on the bed to look at him.

“How’d you know about it?” He asked as James shrugged and stood up to get ready for the day.

“Y/N told Lily; Lily told me.” James tried to cover the smirk he knew was about to appear on his face. “She also shared a certain theory of hers with me and I have to say, I think she’s onto something.”

Sirius huffed, shaking his head. “Tell your bloody girlfriend to stop talking about me.”

“And tell your girlfriend-“

“Not my girlfriend.” Sirius interrupted him.

James turned around to look at Sirius, his arms slowly crossing proudly. “And yet you knew exactly who I was talking about.”

Sirius fell silent, knowing James had thought he’d pulled one over on Sirius. “Prongs, I’ll end you.”

“I’m just saying! You’ve known her for years. You were bound to figure it out eventually.”

“I didn’t figure anything out.” Sirius mumbled as he fell back on the bed and covered his eyes. James watched him, his smile slipping into a frown when he realized that Sirius wasn’t getting it. A silence fell upon them, the sound of James’ sigh breaking it before he tossed a shirt at Sirius.

“Get up, come on. The girls are probably waiting on us.” Sirius couldn’t bring himself to speak as he tugged the shirt on, avoiding looking towards James as to not get another of his attempts at getting Sirius to admit his feelings.

Not that he had any, obviously.

You and the girls were in fact waiting for the four boys to come downstairs, killing time before you heard footsteps coming behind you. You spun around, hoping this time it was them unlike last time. Seeing it was them, you smiled.

“Ready for today, Padfoot?” You asked seeing Sirius glance at you. A smile starting on his face before seeing Lily sat right next to you. Her brow was arced as she crossed her arms, staring down Sirius. Sirius’ mouth fell open slightly as he hesitated, trying to figure out what to say before he instead gave a thin-lipped smile and simply nodded before falling onto the chair farthest from you. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal he sat there if the seat next to you, the one always reserved for Sirius, wasn’t wide open.

You didn’t do anything wrong, did you? No of course not. He’s probably nervous or… yeah, nervous.

Lily saw the look on your face and the way Sirius refused to look at you and she knew she messed up. Her eyes flashed over to Marlene, widening slightly in hopes Marlene would catch on enough to start. Marlene, however, did not catch on. “Marlene!” Lily yelled but tried to sound sweet. “Why don’t we start the game now, huh?”

Marlene made an ‘o’ shape with her mouth, getting what Lily was trying to tell her. “Sure! Yes, of course. Follow me to the bridge!” She stood up, getting a mouthed ‘thank you’ from Lily. Everyone started to get up and follow Marlene out of the common room, but you tried to talk to Sirius, reaching over to grab him.

“Siri? Can we talk?” You asked and it looked like Sirius was going to say no before he nodded his head. You let out a breath of relief and pulled him to the couch. “Is something wrong?”

“Wrong?”

You sucked in a breath, playing with your fingers. “You just seemed… off this morning.”

“I’ve never been better.” He assured you, but you didn’t believe it. He couldn’t even look at you.

“Is this about the bet? Because we don’t have to follow through on it if that’s the problem.”

“The bet?” Sirius wasn’t sure why the bet would be the first thing you’d assume would be wrong. “There’s nothing wrong with the bet, love.” He shifted in his seat at that word, overthinking how it could be considered flirting. “We uh, we should probably get going, you know? We are the finalist.” He let out a chuckle that sounded way too forced and you drew your brows together.

“Go ahead.” You told him, waving him away. “I’ll be there in a minute. I…” you paused to think of an excuse, “I forgot my wand.” Sirius nodded, believing fully you’d forget something as important like that as he left you, once again making you confused.

Before today, Sirius would always wait for you. Hell, half of the time he’d volunteer to go get it for you. What the hell was happening?

When Lily realized you weren’t with the group, she headed back, seeing Sirius leave the common and release a breath. She furrowed her brows and tried to blend in with a couple students around her, watching as Sirius smacked his hand against the wall in anger and look like he was yelling at himself in his brain. He stayed for another second, constantly looking at the common room entrance before he shook his head and walked away with clenched fists.

Lily was greatly concerned after she saw Sirius walk off and knowing you were still probably in there, she headed inside herself.

You were slouched forward onto your knees, deep in thought as Lily approached you. “Are you okay?”

You jumped at the sound of Lily’s voice, straightening up as she sat next to you. “Oh, yeah. Perfect.” You swallowed your lie, but Lily didn’t believe you, only making you sigh. “Something’s wrong with Sirius. I don’t know. He just didn’t seem like himself this morning.”

Lily put her hand on your knee, giving it a small squeeze. “Maybe he’s just nervous?”

You drew your lip between your teeth as you thought. “No, I don’t think so, he’d tell me if he was.” Lily gave you her smile, the infamous one that meant she was trying to make a point. “Lily.”

“You know everything about him.”

“He’s my best friend!” you told her slowly. Lily just rolled her eyes in a way to tell you she didn’t believe you. “Lily, let it go.”

“But can’t you see how in love with him you are?”

“Just stop!” you started to raise your voice at her and moved to look directly at her.

“Why can’t you admit it?” Lily yelled back.

You didn’t know how much you needed to raise your voice. How much you needed the extra push only someone as stubborn as Lily Evans to get your voice to finally crack. “Because what if he doesn’t love me the same way?! What if you’re wrong Lily?! How would I live with myself if I messed this up?”

“Y/N…” She didn’t expect you to break this hard, your sudden insecurities becoming clear to her as your eyes began to water.

You let out a shaky breath, trying to hold back the tears but it was no use. “I think love him Lily. I do and I’ll admit as many times as you want me to.” She nodded, rubbing your arm up and down as you fell into your lap, burying your face in your hands. “But Sirius doesn’t get to know. Ever.” You didn’t need to ruin one of the best relationships- friendships- you’ve ever had. Lily felt like she overstepped a little. You did know you were in love with Sirius, you just didn’t want to bring yourself to say it so you wouldn’t get hurt. She pulled you into her, wrapping you in one of the best hugs you’ve ever received from the girl. You sniffed as you tried to hug her back, your arms barely going around her waist, but they were stuck between your bodies so you couldn’t. “You know you’re lucky.” You mumbled in the hug as Lily looked down at you. “Potter has made it quite clear he’s been in love with you for years.”

You both giggled as you separated and Lily began to wipe away your tears. “Sirius has too. He’s just not as obvious as James.” You let out another loud laugh, thankful you had Lily by your side to help deal with your emotions. You stayed there for a while longer, trying to compose yourself with Lily’s help. “Are you okay?” She whispered and ran a hand up and down your back.

You nodded and looked in the mirror on the wall. “I’ve been better.” You sighed. “But it was nice to get that off my chest. Thank you, Lily.” She nodded, giving you a wink as you were pulled to your feet.

“Come, time for you to win your own games.” She held out her hand and you took it, letting her lead you to the rest of the group.

The cool air did you wonders as you stepped outside, feeling a weight lifted off your chest. Sirius was biting his thumb as he sat and waited for you at the bridge, hating that he didn’t offer to wait with you. He always waited with you. Lily was in his head and this wasn’t good.

“There you are!” James called out as you and Lily appeared at the end of the bridge. Sirius was on his feet in an instance, everyone looking at him knowingly except for you. You only gave him a small glance before you looked away and refused to look his way again. He tried not to take it to heart, but he waited to look in your eyes and know you were okay. Something seemed off with you, almost like you had been crying.

He was about to ask if you were alright before Marlene cut him off. “Are we ready for the final round of the Jimmy Jab Games?” Everyone but Sirius cheered as he gulped, exhaling slowly and pretending to be excited. Well, he was excited, but he’d be more excited if he would get out of his head and even stand next to you. “For today’s challenge, to figure out the winner of the Jimmy Jab Games, there will be a race!” You clapped along with Lily, both of you hyping up the game as you kept stealing glances at Sirius, seeing his face of thought plain as day. “But it’s not like any typical race.” Marlene went on. “You both will start here at the bridge and head inside, collecting certain items on your way. The race ends at the Great Hall, whoever gets there first with all their items becomes our winner!”

You shook off your nerves as you and Sirius stood at the “starting line” next to each other. He kept looking at you out of the corner of his eye, wanting to say something but he didn’t know if what ever he managed to say was going to come out flirty or not and with Lily right behind him, looking for any opportunity to call Sirius out for totally being in love with you.

Marlene listed out the items you needed to find.

A tie from another house, a book from the library by Newt Scamander, a broom from Hogwarts broom shed, a signature from Professor McGonagall, and finally a letter with your name written on it hidden in the Owlery.

You repeated the list in your head over and over again, trying not to forget it. You knew certain items would be harder to find, like the letter, convincing another student to give you their tie and finding where Professor McGonagall was at, but the broom and book? Piece of cake.

“Ready?” Marlene asked you and Sirius. He nodded and you looked at him, wanting to wish him good luck but he didn’t even turn to you. You looked forwards and nodded, having looked away before Sirius brought himself to look at you, his heart longing to give you a good luck hug.

“Good luck.” He whispered to you, catching your eye as you smiled at him, sending a flurry through his stomach.

“You too, Siri.”

“Go!” Neither one of you were really prepared as Marlene yelled, but you jumped back to your senses and took off with Sirius not far behind you, catching up rather quickly. As soon as you were off the bridge you went separate ways, you heading to the library and Sirius deciding to grab the broom first.

You dodged past students, a few of them shouting at you as you ran past and threw back apologies. “Sorry! I’m in a race!” you tried to explain but didn’t stay long enough to hear them reply. The library was filled as you entered, your eyes darting immediately to the section of the library you knew Scamander’s book to be, having read it a million times. You maneuvered around the desks before coming to stand in front of the Magical Creature section. You couldn’t help but pause for a minute. Usually when you were getting a book from this section, Sirius was right by your side, listening to you ramble off about whatever beast was your weekly fascination.

You shook off the feeling and grabbed the book Newt Scamander wrote titled Fantastic Beasts and where to find them. You shoved it into your robe pocket and checked it off your mental list. Next you decided to go for the broom, knocking the simple items off. You hadn’t seen Sirius since you separated but that was kind of expected, assuming he had his own strategy. There was a broom missing when you arrived at the broom shed, so Sirius either stopped here first or you were far behind already. You took the first broom you saw and left, hearing the door slam behind you. You winced at the sound before taking off again and heading back inside the castle.

You went for the Owlery, deciding it best to get that one done first as you had to look for the letter. It was rather chilly when you got inside, slipping on the straw that sat on the ground. “Woah.” You told yourself, grabbing onto the wall for support.

“Careful. There’s droppings everywhere.” You jumped at Sirius’ voice, not having known he was up here. The broom he had grabbed was propped on the wall as you put yours there as well, moving into the room to look for the letter.

“Thanks for the caution, I rather like these shoes.” You told him, scanning about the room. Sirius stayed quiet as he cracked a smile at your joke. “How long have you been looking?” you asked.

“Not long before you got here. Came from the library.”

“You got the broom and the book? How did you find the book faster than I would?”

“I don’t know, he’s your favorite author, I knew where his book was.” He shrugged, feeling your eyes on him. He smirked at you. “You’re crap at looking for things if you’re just going to stare at me.” He chuckled under his breath as you giggled and felt your cheeks heat up. You were glad things were starting to seem like normal with Sirius for the first time all day.

You started looking again, petting an owl next to you before seeing two envelopes with your names scribbled on it shoved between the wall a little ways above your head. “There!” you shouted, getting Sirius’ attention. He rushed over to you, putting a hand on your back before pulling it away rather suddenly. You tried to pay it no mind. “Give me a lift.” Sirius looked at you confused. “Lift me up, I’ll grab the letters.” You shrugged.

“But aren’t we competing against each other?” He asked as you rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Lift me up and I’ll grab mine and then you can figure out how you’d get yours down alone.” You grinned. Sirius shook his head with a smile as you turned around and felt Sirius’ hands on your waist. “Don’t drop me Sirius.” You ordered before Sirius counted down and lifted you in the air. You snatched the envelopes from the wall with a grunt and Sirius slowly lowered you. You were a lot closer than you remembered before Sirius picked you up, almost sandwiched between Sirius and the wall when you turned around.

Your breath was caught from you as Sirius didn’t take a step backwards, instead looking down at you with such an intensity that you had no idea what was going to happen. It scared you.

“Sirius?” you whispered, breaking the seal of silence that fell over you. It was like a switch in Sirius’ brain as he cleared his throat and took a step away from you. You were still pressed against the wall, clutching the envelopes. “Uh, here you go.” You held out his as he took it from you, his fingers grazing over yours softly before they were gone.

“We should get going, shouldn’t we?” He asked as you nodded, shoving the envelope in your pocket for safe keeping and grabbed the broom you brought. He joined you in leaving the Owlery, sharing one last look before going two different ways.

You had 2 more things to get: McGonagall’s signature and a tie from someone in another house.

“Pardon me!” you called out to a group of kids not far from you, butting into their conversation. “Would one of you by chance let me borrow your tie? I promise I’ll return it to you.”

“Our ties?” one girl questioned, playing that part of her Hogwarts uniform. “What for?”

“Well, I’m playing a game with my friends-“

“You’re friends with Sirius Black, aren’t you!” the same girl interrupted you as your mouth shut close, astonished that’s what she would stop you for. You nodded. “He’s cute! Does he have a girlfriend?”

She was quite pushy, suddenly regretting walking up to them. “No, he doesn’t. Now your tie-“

“Do you think he’d go out with me?” She kept going, making your eyes widen and a scoff leaving your lips.

“I don’t know, I’m not him.” You tried not to snap at her, feeling a sense of anger bubbling in your stomach.

“Well, you’re not a thing, right? So, he’s available and I’m available.”

A girl you didn’t remember seeing behind you tapped your shoulder, getting you to turn and watch her remove her tie. “Here. Take mine.”

You thanked her, sending a glare to her friend and walking away. You hated thinking about Sirius with anyone else but you, but with the way he’s acting? That’s obviously not something he wants.

You turned the corner, starting to think about where McGonagall would be before the lady herself was just standing in the middle of the corridor. You couldn’t believe your luck. “Professor!” you shouted at her as she turned to see you, a certain expression you couldn’t even describe crossing her features as you jogged over to her. “Good morning, Professor.” You said cheeringly, offering a smile.

“Good morning, dear.”

“Professor, I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind signing something for me?” you asked feeling your pockets for something to sign on. The only thing you found was the envelope with your name. You handed the paper over her, about to ask if she had a quill and some ink, but the old woman already had it ready for you. She scribbled her name down before handing the paper back to you. “Thank you, Professor.” You told her as turned around to leave. As you were walking away, McGonagall did too. She wasn’t going to wait here for Sirius like she waited for you? Maybe Sirius already found her…

You checked your belongings, counting all 5 items before taking off and finishing the rest of the race. You were barely paying attention to rooms you passed by, heading straight to the Great Hall.

There, right inside the door, was your friends waiting for you, desperate to see who won the race.

“You won!” Lily squealed the moment you stepped inside, scaring you from her shout as the rest of your friends all cheered for you. You were ecstatic, throwing your hands in the air in celebration. Lily pulled you in for a hug, James and Remus both clapping you on the back before Sirius rushed into the room, shoving something into his robes.

Your eyes immediately went to him, the smile on your face bigger than Sirius had seen it before and only getting bigger as you looked at him. You launched yourself out of Lily’s arms and into Sirius’ letting him catch you like he did yesterday. Your laugh echoed in his ear as he laughed as well.

Sirius knew there was only one true reason he always lost himself in your hugs.

“Congratulations, love.” Sirius whispered in your ear, feeling you squeeze him tighter before slipping off him. You didn’t want to let go of him, finding the happiness you were feeling, radiating off him. “I guess that means you won the wager.”

“I guess it does, get your complaining out now Siri cause for the next month, you are mine.” You didn’t catch how your words could’ve been taken before James pulled you away from Sirius and Sirius was frozen.

He was yours? Yeah, only in his dreams.

Lily watched his face fall when you left him, that expression remaining underneath his fake smile through the “Winning Ceremony” where Marlene dubbed you the first official Jimmy Jab Game Winner. The ceremony lasted longer than Sirius wanted, mainly because all he wanted to do was to get air and separate himself from this awkward feeling he had.

The moment it was done however, Sirius was out of there, congratulating you one last time before disappearing. He thought he left undetected but that wasn’t the case as he headed out to the wooden bridge just like this morning, but a certain girl followed him out.

“Sirius! Can we talk?” Lily called out as Sirius leaned off the side of the bridge, staring down below him.

“Uh, not now Evans. Later.”

“No, we’re talking now.” She demanded, coming to his side.

“Why are you so stubborn?” Sirius ran a hand through his hair and sent the girl a glare.

“You didn’t flirt her today.” She pointed out. Sirius stayed quiet, not sure what she wanted from him. “Why not?” She wanted him to see it. To see that this not being his typical self with you was killing him. She knew now you loved Sirius, she just needed Sirius to admit it.

“I let her win.” He mumbled his admittance, the words hitting him like a brick to the chest.

“Sirius.”

His eyes were filled with tears Lily didn’t even know he had until he looked at her. “I’ve never felt this way about someone before. With Y/N-“ He stopped himself. His eyes closed, images of you filling his brain as he tried not to hate himself for ignoring your attempts to talk him. It was hard. All morning it killed him, the only time things felt right again was when you were in his arms. “Everything’s so natural around her, like she’s just another part of me. I can’t explain it.”

“You explained it perfectly fine, Sirius. You’re in love. Why can’t you see that?”

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Lily sucked in a breath, amazed by how similar and stupid you and Sirius were.

“What if she does?”

Sirius took a second as he sorted through the thoughts in his brain. So many of them all said different things, but one, one single thought was screaming at him.

Your smile.

“I’m in love with her.” The phrase came like talking a breath. As if this whole time he was meant to say it. “You were right, Lily. Seeing her happy today, I didn’t want to look away.” He thought back to holding you close and losing himself and then hearing you laugh and suddenly he found himself again.

Lily put her hand on his back, gently rubbing. “Sirius, you have to tell her how you feel.”

“I know and I will. Just, can I have a minute?” He hated that Lily saw him like this. In all honesty, you were the only person Sirius didn’t mind crying in front of. He’s cried in front of James, Remus, and Peter before, but they were like his brothers, and he still felt different about it than when he cried with you. But maybe that was because he was in love with you.

Lily gave him one last pat on the shoulder before leaving him alone the bridge. He appreciated the silence, needing to think through how he was supposed to talk to you. If Lily was wrong and you didn’t feel the same way, he’d ruin everything between you both. How was he supposed to risk that? Risk you?

“You missed the afterparty.” Sirius’ head snapped up at the sound of your voice, not prepared for you to have found him.

“Yeah, um, sorry I needed air.” You nodded as you walked to his side, pausing a moment before putting your head on his shoulder. Sirius swallowed, trying to keep his breathing shallow to not throw you off but it didn’t work.

You turned to face him, leaning against the bridge and looking at Sirius. “Are we okay?”

He put on a smile, one you knew was fake. “Yeah of course.”

“Don’t lie to me Sirius. Something’s wrong and you’re lying to me.”

“I’m not-“

“Then you’re not telling me something!” you cut him off, making Sirius look away from you, confirming your suspicions. “You can have your secrets, Siri. It’s not fair of me to ask you to share, but I need to know if it’s something I did.”

“It’s not you.”

“So there is something.” He hated how you’d always catch him. He looked over to you, seeing you take a step closer to him as his lips parted, eyes locked on yours. You kept getting closer and Sirius was entranced, leaning closer himself. Your face wasn’t far from his as Sirius started to close his eyes, but before it got farther than that, you pulled something out of his pocket.

Sirius’ eyes opened fully and he was not only disappointed of thinking you’d actually kiss him right then, but embarrassed.

You held up the Marauders Map, the piece of paper you had pulled out from his pocket. “You let me win. Didn’t you?”

Sirius didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how you figured it out. You were always smarter than him. “Well- I-“

“Pads.”

“I let you win.” You nodded, biting you lip and letting your head fall.

“The girl with the tie? You sent her my way?”

“She owed me a favor.”

“And McGonagall waiting for me? You told her where I was?”

“You always were her favorite student.” You let out a laugh, shocked Sirius would give up winning for you, even if it was just a dumb game. He hadn’t stopped looking at you since what he thought was you about to kiss him. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” His words were cut off when your lips hit his.

That was your chance to test Lily’s theory. You hoped she was right. You jumped onto the balls of your feet to press a kiss, the quickest kiss you you’ve ever had, to Sirius’ lips. When you pulled away, Sirius was frozen, his eyes looking at you but not registering you were even there.

Oh.

Oh no.

That was a mistake, wasn’t it?

You brought a hand up to cover your mouth, trying not sob as you stepped back. “Sirius… I’m so… I can’t believe I-“ He didn’t let you finish.

His hands were on your waist, pulling you against his body with one pull as his lips found yours. Just like any other moment with you, it was natural, like you and Sirius were supposed to have done this years ago. Your hands, which you had put on his shoulder, moved to his jaw and your thumb ran across his jaw line. When Sirius deepened the kiss, your hands moved to his hair, gently running through the strands as you separated. You pressed your forehead against his, neither of you saying anything as your breathing coincided with each other.

“I love you.” He whispered to you, moving his arms to wrap around you fully. “I know it’s probably way too much to say this but I-“

“I love you, too.” You breathed out, stopping Sirius from going on with his speech that was clearly wrong. The words were like magic to him, making his heart speed up as he went in for another kiss that was quickly reciprocated by you.

You pulled away first, letting out some laughs as Sirius quirked his brow, a smile on his face at the sound. “Why are you laughing, love?” The word held more to you both this time, knowing Sirius wasn’t saying it in a friendly manner.

“Nothing, it’s just… I think I owe Lily a thank you.” you told him, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“I think I do, too.” He muttered, cursing yet thanking your friend in his head. You laid your head on his shoulder, both of you standing there in a hug you hoped would never end.

“Sirius?” you asked, hearing him hum a yes. “I think you were the rightful winner of the Jimmy Jab Games.” You told him, causing him to chuckle.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sirius didn’t really care if he won or if you won. He won anyways because right now, you were here in his arms and if he wanted, he could kiss you. In fact, he did one last time, proving it wasn’t just in his imagination as you kissed him back.

“Are you thirsty?” You asked him, looking up with your chin pressed on his chest. “I owe you some butterbeers.”

Sirius threw his head back in laughter, making you giggle as well before he brushed the hair out of your face, kissing your forehead. “It’s date.”

A/N: Well, well, well... we’ve reached the end! I hope everyone enjoyed this 4 day series and I’d love to know what you thought! Love you guys!

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[destihellhound]

We Write Our Own Destiny

Canon-divergent ending to 15x19, ignoring 15x20. Also on AO3 | ff

Tagging @destielintheimpala because she’s my best friend and @ineffable-cas because I remember seeing them asking to be tagged in any fix-it fics.

"I won't be hands on," Jack told them. "Chuck put himself in the story - that was his mistake. But I learned from you and my mother and Castiel that when people have to be their best, they can be. And that's what to believe in. Well... I'm really as close as this," he said, placing a hand over his heart. Then he raised his hand in a stationary, dorky wave. "Goodbye."

"Wait!" Dean said, as Jack turned to walk away. "What about Cas? Chuck pulled Lucifer out of the Empty, you can save Cas!"

Jack raised his hands, palms outwards. "I'm hands-off, Dean."

"But it's Cas," Dean growled, taking a threatening step forwards. "We can't get to him there, and it's not like the Empty is just going to give him back if we ask nicely." When Jack didn't seem at all inclined to change his mind, he tried a different approach. "You owe me."

"Uh, Dean?" Sam said hesitantly. "Maybe not a good idea to piss off the new... Him."

"It's Jack, Sam," Dean said, glancing over his shoulder. "The kid who killed our mother." He turned on Jack. "You said you wanted to make it up to me? This is how you do that!"

"Dean, I—" Jack's eyes glazed over for a second as his attention seemed to be focused elsewhere. "She really does have a soft spot for you Dean," Jack told him before disappearing in a burst of divine light.

Dean stared at the space where Jack had stood, just a moment before. What the hell did that mean? Had Amara persuaded Jack to change his mind, or was he still against interfering?

"Hello, Dean."

Dean froze at the familiar voice, almost afraid to turn around. The last time he'd heard Castiel's voice, it had been Lucifer. He swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. What if it was just another trick?

"Hello, Sam."

"Hey, Cas," Sam said warmly, and his brother's voice was enough to have Dean turning.

Cas was smiling at Sam, though still visibly confused as to why he was back on Earth. When he turned to Dean, however, his smile faltered.

Dean wished he could say something, anything, to wipe that insecurity off Castiel's face because the angel was back where he belonged. He was always better with actions than words, however, so he strode up to Cas and wrapped his arms around him, hands clenching in that god-awful trench coat.

"Dean," Castiel began, unsurely.

"Later, Cas," Dean murmured in his ear. "Let's go home."

Dean felt like a great weight had been lifted from him as the angel hugged him back; a weight he hadn't even realised had been dragging him down.

"I'll make burgers. You love burgers."

"Everything tastes like molecules to me."

"Not the point," Dean said, leading them back to the car. "You are a part of this family, Cas - don't ever forget it."

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked, a sudden thought striking him. "Do you think Adam... Michael was destroyed, but do you think Jack brought Adam back?"

"I hope so," Dean said. "That kid deserves to catch a break. We'll reach out, make sure everyone we know is back, and put out the word that we're looking for him."

"Okay."

As they got nearer the Impala, Dean saw Miracle sitting patiently beside the rear door.

"Oh, hell no..."

"Do you think he's got an owner around here?" Sam asked, looking around.

"We're not keeping the dog, Sam."

"You've changed your tune."

"That was different, okay?" He'd just lost Cas. "It was supposed to just be us, and then there was this little miracle and—"

Miracle barked, as if recognising his name.

Dean sighed. Looked at Sam. Ignored his brother's puppy-dog eyes. Looked at Cas. Took in the angel's hangdog expression.

"Oh, for..." He trailed off in defeat. "I am not feeding him. I am not walking him. And I am not vacuuming the hair out of Baby! That's your job," Dean told Sam. "And if you don't keep her clean, I will shoot you, and then I'll shoot Mir— the dog!" He turned to Miracle. "And you are not riding shotgun!" He got in the car and slammed the door.

"Do you want to ride up front?" Sam asked Cas, failing to hide his amusement at Dean's feigned dislike of their adopted four-legged friend.

The angel responded by getting in the backseat with the dog.

As they began the long drive back to the bunker, Sam texted Eileen. His relief at getting a response was nothing compared to the relief and joy that wiped years off his face when she answered his video call and he saw her face.

His relief echoed the feeling flooding through Dean for getting Cas back, and he glanced at the angel in his rearview mirror.

"I love you," Sam told Eileen, doubling down on his feelings by communicating them through ASL as well.

"I love you, too," she said.

"Get a room, you two," Dean teased them.

Sam called him a jerk as he dug his headphones out.

Dean didn't think Sam had said those three little words to anyone since Jess, and Dean himself had never said them; could never bring himself to say them. He glanced at Cas in the mirror again, chest constricting at the thought of losing Cas again. He'd lost him too many times, and was terrified that he'd lose him again.

Sam arranged for Eileen to meet them at the bunker, but in the end Dean volunteered to take a detour to her house so that Sam could ride home with her. Thankfully he took Miracle, too, and Cas moved into the front passenger seat.

"Is it later, yet?" he asked, once they were back on the road.

Dean swallowed. He had meant later, once they'd eaten and he'd had a chance to figure out what the hell he wanted to say. "I guess it is."

Cas sat there silently, minutes dragging by, until Dean realised the angel was waiting for him to speak. Cas had said everything he'd had to say before the Empty took him, and now it was Dean's turn.

"Look, uh, I've never... Guys aren't something that... If you know me, then you know that..."

"I am a multi-dimensional wavelength of celestial intent," Cas reminded Dean patiently. "It is the vessel that I am possessing that presents as male." He squinted. "I could take a female vessel, if that is something you would—"

"No!" Dean exclaimed quickly.

Cas swallowed. "It's not my vessel," he realised sadly. "It's that my feelings for you are not returned."

"Dude, that's not what I'm—" Dean trailed a hand down his face. "Losing you, it hurts. It hurts as much as losing Sam, only it's different, and I don't know what that means."

"I think," Cas began carefully, "it means that you love me. But you need to decide what kind of love it is that you're feeling. Familial, platonic, romantic..."

"What?"

"Do you love me as family, as a friend, or as a romantic partner? I loved you as a friend, then as family, and I grew to love you romantically - but I don't love you because I have a desire for sexual intimacy with you. As an angel that would be as disappointing as eating - merely experiencing the physical and hormonal sensations without feeling the accompanying pleasure. Though if that was something you desired I would be more than willing to oblige, but I don't see that as being something you would have an interest in. At least, not in this vessel. Yet you are unwilling for me to change vessels."

"It wouldn't be you, then."

"I would still be me, Dean."

"I know, I just mean..."

"You've gotten used to seeing me as Jimmy Novak."

Dean coughed. "Way to make it weird, Cas."

"All I want is to spend your life with you," Cas told him.

"You've always been welcome to do that, Cas. But you leave."

"Or you send me away."

Dean swallowed, knowing that Cas was thinking about his time as a human - when Gadreel, pretending to be Ezekiel, had insisted that Castiel could not be around him. "I'm sorry," Dean apologised. He'd apologised before, and would keep apologising. "You needed me, and I should have been there for you."

"You made the choice you did out of your love for Sam," Cas acknowledged. "And that love is one of the many reasons that I love you. I would settle for living your life with you as your friend, as family, if that was all you desired. But I hope for you to desire more."

Dean frowned. "I thought you said you didn't want sex?"

Cas stared at him for a long moment. "Commitment, Dean. A promise to spend your life with me, faithfully."

And Dean nearly drove the car off the road as he realised that 'commitment' meant no more one night stands, no more casual flings. He was such an idiot... But the more he mulled over the meaning of Castiel's words, the more he surprised himself to realise that he was okay with the idea. Sure, sex was pleasurable and fun, but without a meaningful, emotional connection to the other person involved it lacked something that always left him feeling physically satisfied but otherwise empty.

"Would you ever have told me how you felt?" he blurted out. "If you hadn't been trying to save me from Billie?"

"I don't think so," Cas admitted.

"Why not?"

Castiel stared out of the window, looking away from Dean. "Because to hear you tell me that my feelings were not returned, or worse, for you to ask me to leave, is something that would hurt too much."

"The Empty's definitely not coming back for you, right?"

"No, Dean. Our deal was fulfilled."

"Then say it again, Cas."

Castiel turned to him, slowly, with hope in his eyes. "I love you," he said quietly.

Dean shot Cas a meaningful look. "I know."

Hurt momentarily crossed Castiel's face, before realisation dawned and he beamed. "I understand that reference."

Dean laughed, and pressed his foot down on the accelerator.

"So, what now?" Sam asked, once they'd all pushed their plates aside, stuffed full on Dean's homemade burgers.

"Everything we've ever done has been because Chuck wanted it that way," Dean said. "From before we were even born, Heaven was manipulating Mom and Dad into a relationship. Hunting has been my life, but I don't want the job title to define me."

"Job title?" Sam echoed, amused.

"Yeah. 'Hunter' - I want to be more than that."

"Such as?"

"A teacher," Dean said. "I was thinking about it on the drive home - the next generation of hunters are growing up fast, and they need help just like Bobby helped us. And you were doing good, running that network of hunters from here. That could be our future - making our own way. Not hunters, or Men of Letters, but combining that into something that is ours. From now on, we write our own destiny."

Sam nodded thoughtfully.

"And I want to retire. At least partially. I want to live a life. I want to live my life. I want to be a brother," he said, looking at Sam. "Maybe even a brother-in-law?" he asked, giving Eileen a look that caused her to blush and Sam to kick him under the table. "And a... partner," he finished, looking at Cas. He wasn't sure what the right word was to describe what he wanted with Cas, but he had time to figure it out.

Sam cleared his throat. "You cooked, Eileen and I will clean up," he said, gesturing at their dirty plates. "Why don't you and Cas go, uh, watch some Netflix. And maybe chill." He chuckled to himself.

"Sure, that sounds like a great idea," Dean said, standing up and dragging Cas out of his chair. He failed to understand what Sam found so funny. "Maybe we can finish Game of Thrones - I hear that show had a terrible ending..."

[janiedean]

PLEASE tell me about sam >> the world and the rock band au.

OKAY SO:

 sam >>> the world was... originally a thing I wrote for an exchange which then I scrapped bc it got too long and I never finished it, but basically the concept was jon gets robb’s will before he’s elected LC and he accepts being kitn except he goes to sam like PLEASE SAM BE MY HAND OR I CAN’T DO THIS, and then sam was going to proceed on solving Each Single Problem Jon Could Have starting from being friends with theon to finding sansa in the vale to finding arya and sandor to basically really solving everything and it was gonna be jon/sam but eeeeh I quit when sandor showed up bc I lost track of the plot T_T HOWEVER, I WOULD LIKE TO FIND AND QUOTE YOU A BIT WHERE BASICALLY SAM DRAGGED THEON WITH HIM TO THE VALE BC HE WAS SURE THEY’D KILL HIM OTHERWISE WHERE THEON RECOGNIZED SANSA AND TOLD SAM IT WAS HER WHICH IS2G WHEN DND HAD THE SAME THING HAPPEN WITH POD AND BRIENNE IN S5 I SCREAMED BECAUSE I WROTE THIS SHIT IN 2013 OR 2014 AND I SAID WHAT I SAID

“Go, go,” Baelish says, and he looks pale as a sheet as well. At least he didn’t have anything witty to say, Sam thinks before grabbing Theon’s arm and leading him outside the room.

“Stop,” Theon tells him a moment later. “I don’t – I just need some air. I don’t think – I won’t.”

“All right,” Sam agrees before leading him towards a half-open window in the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” he says as Theon takes deep, heavy breaths.

“For what?”

“I didn’t even – how did you know?”

“Don’t you think that Ramsay Bolton would have spared me the details?” Theon whispers. “I threw up. Then. And he – he also threw at me handfuls of red hair covered in blood. I told you I could play along.”

Sam thinks that he’s going to be sick.

“But – I need you to listen to me,” Theon whispers then, his voice still shaking, as if he’s forcing himself to say what he’s about to say.

“What?”

“The Lord Protector’s daughter.”

“Yes, what about her?”

“That’s no bastard. She’s Sansa Stark.”

For a moment, Sam is sure he’s heard wrong.

“She’s who?”

“Sansa. She dyed her hair and she’s older than – well, the last time I saw her, but I lived at Winterfell for nine years. Do you think I wouldn’t recognize her?”

And it does make sense. Sansa disappeared from King’s Landing when Baelish went to the Vale, didn’t she? Sam is pretty sure of that.

“And – you saw her when I was telling that story. She looked sick. As much as I felt.”

Oh gods be good. He’s right. Sam wonders how a simple mission suddenly turned out complicated – and if Theon hadn’t been there he wouldn’t have even known, would he?

He thinks about his options.

And then he hopes that he still has some courage left and that he hadn’t exhausted it when he killed an Other.

“All right,” he whispers. “I have no idea of why she’s here, but if she wants to come with… do you think you have it in yourself to go down the mountain twice in one day?”

Theon goes pale all over again. Sam had noticed that he could barely keep his eyes open the first time.

“What’s the plan?” he asks.

“I’m asking her. If it’s true, and if she’s here against her will… well, I already know I’m not getting Baelish’s men. And I’m sure that if I came back with his sister Jon – I mean –”

“You don’t need to call him His Grace,” Theon says, and he sounds almost amused. Barely. As much as someone like him can sound amused. “I couldn’t call Robb like that either.”

“Fine. Jon would like that better than an army, I think. So, do you think you can do it?”

Theon shakes his head again and then looks up at him. “I don’t think that I’d ever want to do it again, but just the fact that you asked first makes me think that I can try it.”

Well then, Sam thinks, that’s settled.

like excuse me but what the fuck

rock band au: okay so I had written this rock band au for jonc/brynden for that last prompt meme I took which I should finish one of these days but like then I was doing this chalenge and I ended up writing a sequel for it where they’re touring with theon who’s like the opening solo act for their band and him and jaime argue in the changing room also theon is with robb who’s the long suffering agent and theon wants jaime to hit on brienne who’s like going to all the concerts and it’s actually finished but I really need to revise it and see if I can put it together with the other one, at the end of it theon and robb had a moment™ backstage while jaime and brienne got together post-concert but here have a snipped or more:

“You know that girl that always is in first row, Lannister?”

“I do, Greyjoy. I very well damn do, and is there a reason you’re gloating at me now?”

“Just saying,” Theon says, and Jaime thinks, don’t finish that sentence, don’t finish that sentence, don't finish that sentence, “that while the time for groupies is over, I mean, supposedly so, considering that you invite her backstage every other moment and that she’s been at each single show of this tour, maybe you could invite her.”

“Can it,” Jaime groans, “no way. I’m not —”

“And why not? Come on, I’ve opened for your band for the entire last month, we drove through half of this bloody fucking country and I know for sure that you’re the only person in it that’s not getting any, and seeing your pretty face, it’s honestly baffling.”

“And since when do you care about how much I’m getting? Are you volunteering?”

Theon laughs, dark hair falling all over his shoulders as he fixes his leather trousers in front of their shared changing room — yes, this venue is so shitty that they have to share rooms in between bands, and fine, Theon’s technically a solo act but he does have a band, and he hopes the others are not being too cramped because their room is so small they can’t even change at the same time. He nods, pleased with his hair, definitely, and then goes to grab a black shirt from his bag and puts it on without closing it. Guess this is the night where he plays with his shirt open making sure his poor manager dies of frustration.

Robb Stark is a saint, Jaime thinks sometimes, because to manage this guy, you really need to have an insane amount of patience.

Good thing that they never needed one and Jon always took care of it, but still.

“I mean,” Theon says, “in the ideal world, I would, but alas, I know that it’s not meant to be. For one, I’m not your Kinsey scale one —”

“How the fuck do you know that?”

“What, that you’re a one or that I’m not it?”

“Both, for —”

“I mean,” Theon goes on, “you obviously aren’t a zero or you wouldn’t stare at your bassist’s ass, and honestly also at your guitarist’s, and I wouldn’t exclude, you know, that you three might have had a go at it at some point —”

“That never happened!” Jaime protests, not that he hasn’t entertained that thought once or twice, but still, he doesn’t bat for that team, as a general rule. He just hates that Theon has apparently figured him out that easily.

“Regardless,” Theon goes on, “you’re a one, but if those two are your type, considering they’re both older than you and ginger and blue eyed and I’m not either of that, I think I’m not it. Also, no way you like pitching.”

+ throbb snippet

“So,” Theon says, as he drags Robb towards the back exit, “I might have told Lannister that I’d leave him the changing room for the night.”

“… What,” Robb says, following even if he’s trying to slow him down, “he finally decided to fess up to that poor girl?”

“Oh, that’s to be seen, I just gave him the chance to,” Theon shrugs, “which is why we’re taking a cab and going to the hotel at once.”

“Wait,” Robb says, “we should —”

He never finishes the sentence because Theon presses him against the wall and kisses him and fucking hell, Robb would like to just give in and let him and actually he would like to grab Theon’s shoulders and press him against the fucking wall, except —

“We should wait until the Kingsguard is done,” he breathes, “you agreed to sign those records, but it has to be with them. And people paid for it.”

“Oh, of course, ever the correct person —”

“Theon, I’m your fucking manager, you picked me, it’s not like you can exactly skirt around — obligations,” he groans when Theon sucks a bruise into his neck.

“Right, right, so you’d rather stay here and wait two hours instead of running to the hotel with me? We could make it, you know, if Jimmy Page and Robert Plant could —”

“It’s not the fucking seventies,” Robb groans, wishing Theon would just not press, even if fuck but now he really feels like he’s going to come in his trousers like a fifteen year-old and the fact that he’s definitely been wanting to kiss Theon at least since then is not helping, and yet —

“Really? I missed that memo.”

+ jb snippet

“Sure,” she says, reaching out to grab it, and then she swallows — “You know,” she said, “you sounded… more intense today.”

“Did I,” he says. “How?”

She shrugs, her large shoulders barely slimmed by the black band shirt sporting his face that she’s wearing, and fuck if it was weird being the face of the merchandise, except that it had to happen.

Fucking Targaryen.

“I’m not quite sure,” she says, “just… there was a difference? In the good sense, though. You felt… more immersed, not to say that you’re not usually, it’s just… I don’t know, I felt like crying more than once.”

Oh.

Well.

“Maybe,” he sighs, “I had a conversation with Greyjoy before that made me realize a few things,” he goes on. “I suppose. I don’t know,” he shakes his head, “I just… you’ve been listening to us since before Rhaegar fucked off, and I just — I guess it just sank in that I’m not going back to my former job anytime soon.”

“Can — can I say I’m not sad that you aren’t?”

“You can,” Jaime shrugs, “it’s just, it felt a bit too much. I never signed up for that.”

“But you sing those songs a lot better than he did.”

“Not the first person that told me that, today.”

“But it’s true. He just — he was good. But you just have a whole other delivery.” She blushes, guileless blue eyes staring into his, and he thinks of how she told him that his songs made her survive high school and some kind of ridiculous bet her supposed friends made about her fucking v-card and he just — fuck. She’s so nice. She’s the kind of nice person you wouldn’t presume listens to his fucked up lyrics, and yet.

And yet she does.

[whatwashernameagain]

Keep him safe - Chapter 34

You can read the previous Chapters here: Ch 1, Ch 5, Ch 10, Ch 15, Ch 20, Ch 25, Ch 30, previous chapter, Ao3 Link, Lo’s, Pat’s and Virgil’s aesthetics, You are Magical, I’m dying to be with you, The Dreamer

Pairings: Logan/Patton, Roman/Virgil

Words: 9.007

Warnings: Roman and Virgil’s horny thoughts (not explicit), slight mention of cross dressing, scratches, political criticism, cursing – let me know if I forgot one!                 

Summary: Detective  Logan Sanders and his best friend and dorky partner Roman Prince have  made a dear friend in the lovely pattisier Patton. Logan however, feels a  lot more than friendship for the sweet man, even though he knows he  cannot possibly have him. Their routine is broken abruptly when Logan  finds bruises on Patton’s fair skin and slender wrists he could hardly  have received from his costumary clumsiness.   Meanwhile his partner  Roman has his own demon to fight, which comes in the form of a little  delinquent who seemed to have been pulled into a street gang quite  against his will. Roman is determined to help the strange young man. It  would be so much easier though if he just stopped hissing at him!

Notes: Thanks to @sebthesnipe​ for proof reading even though she is the busiest person in the world and to @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2​ for being amazing and running the KHS Discord server for two amazing years now.

Chapter 34

“Hey asshole, pick your shit up! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Virgil screeched at the unsuspecting dog walker from his spot at the front door of their apartment building, already seething with anger. He’d just gotten back from his early morning training at Talyn’s place and had been looking forward to finishing it with Logan, who was currently on his run. And now this dirtbag was getting all up in this shit – or… Virgil was getting up in the dude’s shit. Well sue him!

The man startled, looking down at the cigarette butt he’d tossed to the ground carelessly.

“What’s wrong with me? You can’t just call me an asshole over nothing! Who do you think you are? Where I throw my fags is none of your business.”

Oh, that had been a mistake.

Virgil abandoned his attempt to unlock the door and got right into the man’s face, ignoring the bulldog happily yaping around his heels. He was so ready for this.

“Over NoThInG? Listen up, you hollow walnut!”

Before he could start ranting properly, a familiar tall man wearing a band tee with a ripped collar, no shoes and wild eyes materialized next to him.

“Oohh yay, are we throwing away our stuff???” He cheered, immediately emptying his pockets and throwing everything on the ground with glee. Bloody tissues, clothespins, a folding knife, crumbling dog treats (immediately slobbered away by enthusiastic dog) and a worn, tiny bible. Papers immediately started spilling out of it – some filled with scribbled thoughts or to do lists, others with faded printouts. In his back pockets he found a bunch of candy wrappers he immediately threw up to rain around himself, unintentionally tossing a pocket Quran along with it which he hastily fumbled with so not to drop it.

Virgil ducked out of the radius of his debris, as usual weirded out and awed in equal parts by professor Duke. The dog-walker looked at him like he’d just bitten off his own foot.

“The hell? Fags aren’t the same as your garbage, you crazy freak!” The man exclaimed, thoroughly disturbed.

“No, dude. They’re much worse!” Virgil growled, ignoring Remus trying to free his fingers from a distressed looking worm on a string he’d gotten tangled in. Quite a few people had stopped to watch them, yet with the professor cheerfully making a scene next to him, Virgil managed to keep his head high despite the heat and anxiety making his heart race.

“Cigarette butts contain over 4000 toxic substances and are virtually indestructible.” The young delinquent hissed. “The filters are made of a plastic called cellulose acetate and they take 10 years to decompose completely- just one of those fucks poisons one cubic meter of water and kills all the fucking fish in it.”

“You should pick it up, friend. Before I get ideas about where to put it out.” Remus cooed sweetly, before ruining the elegant subtly of his threat by becoming way too graphic.

“In your face!” He screeched, flailing grandly and wiggling his fingers, the bulldog distracting him by nosing at his pockets, hoping for more treats. Its owner used the chance to sullenly grab his cigarette stub and get away.

“You shouldn’t have a doggy-dog if you can’t handle being a clean boy!” Remus hollered after him, way too loud and shameless. “Do you not wipe your ass after you take a shit either? You naughty, dirty boy? Is it a sex thing? That is the one sex thing you keep in your bedroom!”

Virgil was blushing thoroughly, not enjoying the attention despite the righteous fire still fueling his anger. What the fuck was wrong with people throwing their garbage on the ground? What were they thinking? Not only did somebody else have to pick it up, it also fell apart to become microplastic and the nicotine, tar and heavy metals – all 4.5 trillion of them that were thrown away each year. Fuck smokers who did that! They were what was wrong with the word! Seriously, could you be any more of a useless human if they were not even able to throw their trash away properly? Full offense, Virgil wanted to kick them in the face.

People were staring and murmuring around them and though he didn’t feel bad about his reaction, his heart was still in his throat at all the attention.

“What? Are you not entertained enough, you mindless sheep?” Remus roared brightly, spreading his arms and bouncing up and down on his toes, placing himself in front of the younger man. “Would you like me to sing you a song about the misfortunes of little Jimmy who doesn’t pick up his litter? Spoilers – he gets eaten by an octoshaaaark!”

He struck a dramatic pose and drew a deep breath. People started fleeing.

“Aw dang.” Remus pouted.

Virgil chuckled, feeling surprising affection well up in him. Remus was scary, yeah, definitely, but he was also an ally to his cause, and that meant a lot to him.

Crouching down and using the opportunity to let his hair fall over his face, he started picking up the non-bloody articles Logan’s neighbor had scattered on the ground.

“Why do you have a bible and a copy of the constitution?” He asked, trying to shake the paper from his fingers and finding it disconcertingly sticky. Was that a cough drop? Ugh, he’d have to disinfect his whole body.

“For arguments with conservatives!” Remus answered happily. “I like slapping them in the face with the dick that is my arguments every time they go all bibly-christiany on me! They don’t love the fact that Jesus was a sandal wearing liberal that much – a lot like I am, actually! Not that facts work well with them – I found that barking and bending over backwards with your tongue lolling out works best. Makes an impression!”

He’d settled down next to Virgil cross-legged, bouncing his knees, and started munching on the dry little cookie thingies the bulldog had missed. “Dog treat?” He asked generously, holding one out.

“Why?” Virgil asked, completely bewildered. They were, indeed, little bone shaped dog treats.

“I like the way they crunch!”

“…okay.”  

Virgil still tried to make sense of the interaction he was currently having and found that using facts was indeed a lost cause with many republicans – which in this case was a generous euphemism for racists and Nazis, so one could just as well try what the crazy man did. Not everyone deserved to have a stage, after all.

Quietly, he examined the other. The ripped T-shirt made the wide collar slip down one of his skinny shoulders and the jeans he wore had definitely seen better days. His dark skin didn’t do much to hide the bluish shadows under his eyes. And also his naked, dirty feet were disgusting.

Dumping the stuff he’d picked up into the professor’s lap, he stood up. “Take a shower and come up at twelve, I’m making veggie burgers.”

There would be so much complaining once Roman found out he’d invited Remus.

***

Logan ran a hand through his sweaty hair, pulling the damp, raven locks out of his face. His muscles were burning pleasantly from his run and he was looking forward to his post workout stretch with Virgil. It would be illogical not to use the knowledge of an experienced gymnast for advice, after all. Though his little delinquent was still shy about it, the detective found he appeared to enjoy exercising together, as long as they were doing it in the safety of Virgil’s room where he could comfortably hide in his oversized sweaters.

His thoughts amusedly circled back to the way Virgil had to shake his hands free from his overly long sleeves whenever he reached for his feet while he fumbled his keys free from the little pocket sewn into his close-fitting trousers. As usual, Logan fetched the mail on his way up, sighing as a stack of colorful envelopes fell into his hands. Glitter rained down from one of them. With more gentleness than he felt inclined to, he beat the stack of bulging papers against the side of the building to loosen the shimmering plastic particles. Did this action constitute a case of littering, he wondered. He resolved to bring down his vacuum cleaner to deal with the mess after his shower.

On his way up, the detective separated the pile into his and Roman’s mail, ending up with sensibly sized, white envelopes in one hand, and a bunch of offensively colored, suspiciously rattling, sticker covered, perfumed fan mail his partner was greedily waiting for. He kicked the professor’s apartment door closed as he passed it, satisfied to hear him mumbling over the running shower in the also open bathroom.  

Roman was already lurking in the opened door to Logan’s own apartment like a silk-clad dragon looking to expand his hoard, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet. Logan rolled his eyes. Despite having received letters for a week already, he was still overly enthusiastic about them every day. And he still refused to get them himself, instead he let Logan hand them to him exasperatedly like some strange ceremony.

The young detective snatched the pile eagerly, pouting as Logan held back two of them, not liking the powdery, sandy sound they were making when he tilted them. It was likely more beads or glitter, yet they still went into the box by the door to be checked in the lab (as they all should). He had ordered the post office whose address the fan-mail was sent to, to be extra vigilant before delivering the mail to his apartment, but he would most certainly not put the safety of his family at risk. He wondered, once again, whether he ought to borrow a service dog to check the mail for – preferably the rest of their lives actually.

“Look, Patton fairest, what the wind has blown in!” Roman sang cheerfully, twirling around the baker gracefully and then taking him for a spin and dip.

Patton giggled, stumbling and holding on to the tall detective, getting his lovely curls all tangled up in the frame of his glasses.

Smiling contently, Logan slunk into Virgil’s room to engage in what he hoped to turn into a routine. The young man was already waiting for him – playing on his phone curled up on the dresser between the planet lights he had kept, hair curling slightly with dampness from his private routine in Talyn’s gym he was slowly taking up again.

Meanwhile, Roman flopped onto the couch and yanked Patton into his arms enthusiastically, wanting to share his happiness and also maybe trying to distract him a little bit from his preparations for his return to the café. He wanted to support his friend, he really did, but he couldn’t help trying to put off unpleasant tasks for as long as possible instead of facing them. It was an issue he’d always had – one that had driven Logan half-crazy before he’d started to deal with many of those tasks himself and handed over others to Roman instead. They were making it work.

Roman didn’t actually have to do anything for the café, but the plan to reopen it, no matter how much Patton needed it, still made him antsy. Trevor-the-villainous-fiend could be lurking there. Who knew what could happen? After all, they had neatly avoided any contact, despite how often he had secretly talked the little baker out of calling him in the night when he’d been frightened and guilty. Which had been a lot of times. Better not tell Logan about that.

Well, distracting himself until the problem went away or got horribly unavoidable was a strategy that had gotten him through life just fine (now that he had Logan to read his paperworky-mail which he had an almost insurmountable aversion against dealing with), so he cuddled the baker close and settled in for some pleasant distractions.

Patton probably knew what he was doing, considering the way he pushed their cheeks together and hummed sweetly. Ugh, Roman felt so loved, it was too much for words. He squeezed Patton’s little body at his side closer to himself, just needing to hold on so suddenly. He loved him so much his heart was pounding with it. Feeling giddy with it, Roman jiggled and rocked them happily, delighting in the laugh he elicited.

“Alrighty, my most precious Patton, shall we discover the adoration of my beloved fans together?” The young man cheered, bright with eagerness.

“Yes! Now that I’m enveloped in a hug letters begin!”

Pulling his legs close to curl comfortably into Roman’s hug, and lean against his warm, broad chest, Patton selected the first envelope – a loudly patterned lilac one. Roman ripped it open with childish pleasure.

“Ohhhhhhhh!” He cooed, the sound almost too high for a man this large. “Isn’t this the most delightful thing you have ever seen, my fairest friend?!”

He was unfolding a drawing of himself in full superhero regalia, cape and sash and all, clearly drawn by a little child. Picture Roman was holding hands with a little kid each – a dark skinned girl in a princess dress and a blonde child of indeterminable gender due to the quality of the drawing. They were wearing a knight’s armor with a lightsaber as much as he could tell. It was adorable and Patton was putting it on the fridge. His eyes were watering at how cute it was.

“Oh.my.god. Virgil, my starry night, come here and see this!” Roman howled, very close to Patton’s ear.

The grumbling from next door indicated the delinquent’s feeling about the nickname as well as the interruption.

Roman waved the letter around with so much enthusiasm it nearly dislodged Patton. With a squeak, the baker held on to the tall man’s neck, even though the strong arm around his waist held him safely where he was almost pulled into Roman’s lap entirely.

Virgil, dressed in a mix of his old gymnastics’ clothes and his newer, oversized hoodie that hid as much as possible and fell all the way over his hips, didn’t really feel like being seen by the attractive detective right now. He didn’t mind Logan seeing him in his pants that fit his toned, long legs like a second skin, but with Roman, he felt a little more self-conscious. Especially about the combination with the ratty, overly long hoodie.

He used to wear tight fitting shirts that he now knew could look quite enticing when they slipped up his middle as he stretched or exposed his shoulders, but he didn’t feel confident enough to pick them out himself anymore. He wanted to look pretty for Roman more with every day, but considering the way the man had seen him in the past, he didn’t know if he could pull it off. Maybe Roman would feel like he was dressing up like a whore again - wearing a costume to seduce him. He didn’t know what made him so reluctant to dress better, it was just – such a big step and he didn’t know how to go about it anymore. So he wrapped his arms around his middle and hoped not to look too annoyed and uncomfortable. Especially considering how happy Roman appeared. So bright and innocent.

He was radiant.

And he was reading fan mail.

Virgil didn’t love the fan mail. Not at all. Remy had been forced to listen about it for a long time. He just hated the thought of those dirty minded, thirsty bitches getting to tell his man about all of the horny things they came up with while they drooled over his pictures. The fuck was wrong with them, trying to steal his- his- argh Virgil hated them with a passion, okay?! Who knew what ideas they were putting into that beautiful idiot’s head?

Remy was still patient with him thought, however the fuck he managed to do it. Virgil had the feeling he was being indulgently laughed at when he raged about the letters over the phone. So what if he hadn’t actually read any of them?! Roman kept singing their praise to anyone who would listen, why would he need to look at them himself? He was sure they were every bit as awful as he imagined.

Roman looked too happy with them. Fuck that.

He really looked quite happy, actually.

Virgil slowed his steps suspiciously.

Giggling, Roman flattened the paper before his eyes to read to Virgil. He even tried to do the voice. A voice Virgil immediately recognized.

‘Tell my anxious doll to, like, not to be such a moody diva and come look at some cute fan mail with his eye-candy detective.’ Roman took a break to preen. ‘I promise you don’t have to be scared, babe. Y’all are just making tasks bigger and scarier by avoiding confrontation with unpleasant chores and then they, like, build up in your messy little minds and that is not cool cause it makes me work for my not-money. So have a letter written by my precious little baby girl angels as a treat, okay girlfriend?’

“Awwwww so sweet!” Patton sighed.

Roman looked thoughtful for a moment as he pulled out the third sheet of paper written with a rainbow pencil, probably by Emile since the girls were too little to write themselves. The words were all enthusiastic little girl, though.

“How would you feel about looking at just one or two letters with us before returning to my dearest partner?” Roman asked sweetly. “They truly are quite entertaining. Just yesterday I received one from the utterly ravishing miss Van der Beek. All her other friends promised to write as well. It turns out I am quite popular with distinguished ladies with more experience enjoying the finer things in life!”

“What he means to say, kiddo, is that old ladies just love our dashing prince. Most of those are sent by the cutest grannies from retirement homes.” Patton explained with a warm smile that was just a little mischievous. “That doesn’t mean they’re all innocent, though.” He added cheerfully. Truthfully, he was already itching to get his hands on the hilarious letters. Those ladies really weren’t shy and Patton secretly wanted to be just like them someday. Enjoying the good life and making the best puns about butts.

Roman didn’t mind the fact that most of his paper-mail was written by children and elderly women (and grandpas, sometimes). He received emails and even digital art from younger fans as well, and he adored them, so, so much, but since he couldn’t keep them in a box with the pictures and drawings and ribbons and whatnot he enjoyed the letters even more. He just loved how creative they were. They really made him feel special. He should have known they’d make his dearest raven anxious, though. He really hoped to put him at ease with this gentle introduction Remy had created for him. And it worked! Of course it did – Remy’s children were the most precious things in the world! He could barely wait for their play date next weekend!

He was a little relieved to find the other letters they opened to be just as fun and cute. They usually were. Patton had a talent for selecting the nice ones from looking at the envelope alone. Not all letters were super sweet of course, but that was why he rarely opened his fan-mail alone. Both Patton and Logan made the creepy ones disappear quite quickly. Virgil could handle those, Roman was sure, but there was one person whose letters would just upset his dear wildcat.

They’d come in fine, yellow envelopes with pressed yellow roses inside and were written in the most beautiful calligraphy he’d ever seen. Recognizing the handwriting on the outside, Roman had squirrelled them away quietly. He hadn’t been able to stop running his fingers over the gracefully curved ink and flowing, tender words for a long time. Guiltily, Roman kept them in a separate box. He didn’t know how to contact his nemesis/admirer and wanted to let them down gently, after all. Before he caught them to lock them away, of course. He just wasn’t entirely ready to give up this feeling. He’d never been courted this way before and it had softened him towards his nemesis.

Virgil returned to Logan more relieved than he had been before, especially since Miss Van der Beek’s friends had come through and had written the most outrageous fan-mail. Roman huddled up comfortably, opening one last letter with Patton before lunch. It was a square, heavy envelope made from cream colored thick, expensive paper. The card inside was heavy and decorated with ornate, delicate gold finishing on the curved corners. It opened in the middle and admitted a view of a beautifully printed card. It read

Invitation

to the Morgan’s annual charity ball 2020

at the Ritz Carlton

 All the air seemed to have left the room. The paper tilted in front of Roman’s eyes and slipped from his numb fingers.

*

“I just don’t understand – after all those years…” Roman stared at the invitation, almost vibrating with nervous energy. Whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his father’s face turn to stone as he refused to change his ways after nana’s burial. Even after such a long time, it was still crystal clear in his mind.

He wanted to jump up and pace frantically, yet he couldn’t bear to lose the grounding touch of the men gathered around him. Patton had pressed himself against his side as tightly as possible while Logan stood over him, tall and solid, keeping a firm hand on the back of his neck. Only Virgil was sitting with some distance between them since he was clearly too upset to soothe anyone. The golden embossed paper seemed to cause his fury to boil over almost entirely by itself. He looked pale and angry and… he snatched Roman’s sleeve with a thin hand, holding on tightly. His eyes were dark and so hurt on Roman’s behalf.

“They chased me away. Why would they want me there now?” He asked softy, looking at his family with a lost, helpless gaze.

The young detective agonized over the invitation for most of the day, carrying it around and reading it over and over again. Even the presence of Remus during lunch didn’t manage to get a rise out of him in this distraction, which clearly made the professor sulk. Especially since he had a few words to say about those republicans! Thankfully, Virgil and Logan made him some calming herbal tea after lunch (leaf piss, in his opinion but okay), and spent some time debating the advantages of actually murdering and eating the rich while nesting on Logan’s cozy balcony. Patton took Roman’s hand to go on a walk to help him clear his head. It helped.

“A Prince doesn’t shy away from a challenge. I owe it to my pride to go. I can and will do this with my head held high!” He proclaimed proudly at the dinner table the same night. Patton squeezed his hand in support, smiling at him warmly.

*

“I can’t do this! What was I thinking???” Roman wheezed, trying to calm his racing heart the next morning. “This is the height of hubris – I have fallen victim to the folly of man! There is no way I’m going!” He howled, pulling on his hair and staring at the letter like it would explode. What had he been thinking???

*

By midday, Roman proudly projected his voice through the entire flat from his perch on the coffee table. “I will be proud and gallant and dazzle everyone with my charming compliments and dashing appearance and my family shall be devastated to see what they missed when they threw away their most glittery offspring!”

His figure was bathed in the brightest sunlight. His fears forgotten, Roman was ready to take on anything!

*

“What if it was a mistake? Is this a mistake?” Roman wailed, flailing around with the mangled invitation in hand only an hour later. His eyes were wild. He’d been carrying the expensive paper everywhere with him, swinging erratically between nervous episodes of self-doubt and fear of his father and loud and boisterous assertions of confidence. His hair had become an utter mess from running his hands through it during dramatic monologues and moments of insecurity alike. The others were trying to allow him to come to a decision himself, but the lovely detective appeared to be coping poorly with the freedom.

Half an hour later, he was once again standing on the couch, posing heroically.

“Finally they shall see what a marvelous protector their son has become! A shining knight! A handsome hero dressed in blue!” He boasted, wide eyed and clearly trying to convince himself of his own worth – even as he was asserting his superiority, he was slipping into a pit of self-hate.

Virgil wanted to kill someone.

Seeing this beautiful, confident man spiral so deeply into mental instability because of a letter was ripping him open inside with nowhere for the blood and fear to go but the boiling maelstrom that was his protective fury.

That wasn’t what Roman needed now, though. Taking a deep breath, the barista reached for his man.

Virgil grabbed a hold of Roman’s surprisingly trim waist and pulled his heavy body down next to him. His mood swings between elation and terror were wearing the young man thin. Resigned and too tired to overthink, he yanked the already slightly worn invitation from the tan hands, chucked it on the coffee table, and folded his body onto the large detective’s lap in the wild, desperate hope to pin him down finally. He seemed to love when Patton did it.

The bold move made him sweat with anxiety, yet it was a much more comfortable form of comfort than talking about the issue and ending up insulting Roman’s family as he so desperately wanted. Physical contact had helped calm Roman down most so far, but Logan wasn’t here to grab his partner in a silent, firm hug that squished him against his chest until he grew quiet and Patton was on the phone with his staff, so no tangling his soft limbs with Roman’s now either.

Virgil had tried to keep his distance from the issue after Remy had explained that Roman needed to make his own decision. He probably hadn’t meant brooding in silent fury (while telling Patton what he was angry about and awkwardly reminding him that he loved him all the time).

He couldn’t help hating that republican trash that was Roman’s parents even more than before, though. He wasn’t confused about their motivations for a second. Those filthy pieces of shit were sensing an opportunity to improve their reputation with millennials who were rallying against billionaires who exploited the world – the environment as much as their workers – without even paying fucking taxes. Seriously, fuck Trump, fuck Jeff Bezos, fuck the Morgans! They would try to use Roman’s fame and honesty to claim him as a token to show off to liberals, to make themselves look tolerant and likeable with their beautiful, gay hero son. He was acceptable when it was useful to have a diversity card they could pull in debates, now that their homophobia and racism wasn’t as accepted as it used to be. Fuck them with a broken chair.

He couldn’t say all that, though. He’d just make Roman defensive in this terrible way that left Virgil nothing to work with. The taller man was never aggressive with him. Instead he grew quiet and sad and tried to make Virgil feel safe by being submissive and gentle and letting him have his way as he swallowed all of his pain and fear for everyone else’s sake. Roman didn’t need his anger. Logan had already gently told him about all of the fears he and Virgil shared and had offered his support, he didn’t need a reality check Virgil was desperately holding back. Roman knew they were using him – intellectually at least. Yet, his heart was probably hoping they were finally willing to love him.

So Virgil pulled himself together and silently leaned his lithe body against Roman’s broad chest and tried to gather the courage to say yes to the lovely man’s unspoken question.

The invitation contained a plus one.

Virgil had seen the way Roman’s gaze had sought him out hopefully. He wanted him there, which was astonishingly sweet, since Virgil was… well. Virgil. The fact that Roman, who was beautiful and elegant and charming to a dazzling degree wanted to show Virgil on his arm when he knew how judgmental this fucking crowd was, when he knew what they would think…

Yes, it was also completely and utterly terrifying.

Seriously. A charity ball. At the fucking Ritz? Even young and not so messed up Virgil would have hated the thought with the passion of any idealistic, liberal activist. Fucking corrupt money bags trying to look like they cared while they marinated in their arrogance and wealth while kids in America couldn’t pay for their school lunch and went hungry. While they supported putting fricking kids in actual fucking cages seriously what the fuck this really was the cursed time-line.

Also was there a person alive on this planet who fit the aesthetic of the fucking Ritz less than he did? He didn’t think so. Fuck he needed Remy now. He’d promised to help, thank Tesla. Virgil was clinging to that voice in his memory that had told him to ‘breathe, doll. Daddy has fixed lots of tiny girl hair and fashion disasters in his time. We’ve got this, okay, babe?’

Sure. Dressing a feral bat like Virgil for a FUCKING BALL was a piece of cake.

Well, first he needed to see if Roman actually wanted him to come or if that had all been in his head and Virgil was about to humiliate himself so badly, he would have to move out and change his name. Maybe Roman hadn’t asked yet because he wanted to avoid pressuring him with something he knew he was anxious about. OR he had recognized how badly Virgil would look on his arm.

Virgil felt like he couldn’t breathe for a terrifying moment. He used his position in Roman’s lap he’d chosen in a moment of courage to hide his face against the tan, smooth skin of the detective’s neck.

A deep breath left the taller man as Virgil curled close. He wrapped his arms around the thin body and sunk against him gratefully. The purple mane was so soft against his cheek. All thoughts drifted away – invitations as much as sunflower-yellow letters – leaving only the sensation of warm breaths against his skin and a gracefully curved back under his palms. Everything seemed to quiet, to slow down.

Virgil’s body moved slightly with every breath. He was so warm and alive, such a grounding weight in his lap. He arched against his chest willingly to press himself closer, letting Roman feel the way his ribs expanded on every inhale. The darkness behind the young detective’s closed eyes felt soft and safe. He gently moved his palm over the prominent spine, between wing-like shoulder blades. Stress flowed from his body like water. Slowly, their embrace lost its purpose and became lazy and comfortable, a hug for no other purpose than allowing them to exist so close to each other.  

After what felt like a long time of soft tenderness, Roman felt Virgil tense again, knowing he had to get it over with. He couldn’t keep hiding in a cute cop’s arms for the rest of his life because he was embarrassed.

“Listen, man…” He murmured quietly, pulling back slightly. Despite Roman’s hands still resting loosely on his hips, now that he wasn’t curled up and hidden anymore, he felt silly and out of place, suddenly. He really had just sat down in Roman’s lap, huh? What the fuck, Virgil? Heat rose to his cheeks and that just made things a lot worse. He pushed his head down and braced his palms on that hard chest and barreled on.

“Uhm, about- about that invitation. I know you’re anxious about it, and I’m really not good with that shit – I mean – that’s obvious, considering-” He gestured to – all of himself self consciously. “I really don’t know anything about your, eh, your social class and those fancy parties and shit. We’re from pretty, pretty extremely different backgrounds after all, and-”

Roman’s large hand rose to tip Virgil’s blushing face up in order to reassure him (and because it made him feel like a chivalrous knight). His fingers found the pale delinquent’s throat instead. Feeling the racing pulse, he curled his hand around the slender neck right under the jawbone with utter gentleness and brushed it upwards, pushing his chin up slowly.

Virgil’s breath hitched upon feeling the intimate hold he was captured in. It would be easy for the grip to turn punishing, yet he only brushed his thumb over the edge of his jaw and that felt very, very good. Vulnerable in all the right ways.

“What are you trying to say, dearest?” Roman rumbled softly, catching the younger man’s attention from where it had wandered to inappropriate places.

“Uh…” Virgil needed a moment. Roman’s eyes were so vividly green, like sunlight filtered through freshly grown, thin leaves. His mascara made his lashes so long and dramatic and so pretty.

I, uh…” He stuttered again. Roman was biting his lip in amusement, so pleased to have muddled Virgil’s brilliant mind and the barista felt like a useless, horny teenager for the first time in too many years.

A chuckle escaped the detective that was deep and rumbled under Virgil’s palms. He looked at the young man in his lap like he was the sweetest thing.

Feeling his blush flare up, Virgil ducked his head, allowing Roman’s palm to slip onto his cheek. He didn’t force his chin up as he was composing himself. Instead, the manicured hand moved across pale skin and scratched lightly across his scalp. A shiver broke out and raced over the delinquent’s entire back. His mouth fell open in a pleased sigh as he leaned into the caress.

Hell yeah, he could just keep doing that forever, please and thank you. His large palm rested on the pronounced bones of his hip, gripping gently, safely. Virgil could feel the detective’s intense gaze on him like a physical touch. He felt very warm as he leaned closer to that powerful hand in his hair that gave him so much pleasure.

His flush was still hot on his cheeks, yet the heat rising under his clothes wasn’t caused by embarrassment despite the intimacy of the moment. He’d never thought he would be able to let his guard down and be looked at this intimately when Roman made him feel this way. The detective’s other hand moved slowly, brushing up and down his back in the lightest of touches.

Virgil couldn’t help the breathy moan that escaped him. It was totally justified, okay? He felt those muscular thighs shift underneath him, adjusting their positions just a bit, so he was brought more securely into the hold of those strong arms and felt a warm breath on the side of his face.

Suddenly, Roman yanked his hand back as if Virgil had electrocuted him, yelping like a frightened dog. His whole body jumped, jostling Virgil.

“The fuck- Cat, what the actual fuck?” The younger man screeched at the ball of gray fur that had wedged itself between them and was furiously hissing and biting at Roman’s hand. The detective flailed and squirmed, unbucking Virgil in the process and dumping him on the cushions as he tried to escape over the back of the couch from the vicious raccoon. He landed face first with a ‘thump’ and an unmanly whimper.

Patton peeked in from the kitchen, phone between his cheek and shoulder, kitten purring in his big cardigan pocket and mixing bowl in hand. Finding Roman trying to twist into a sitting position while his legs were still sticking over the back of the couch and Virgil being slobbered over by an overly affectionate, possessive raccoon, he shrugged and closed the door behind himself. He and Nugget were not getting involved in that particular jealousy triangle. His kiddos would just need to make do.

“Oh shit, Roman, are you okay, dude?” Virgil asked and he knew, he knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help the laugh bubbling up his chest.

Cat was squishing her fat butt all over his lap, pawing at his shirt and lovingly gnawing on his fingers, looking fucking pleased, fricking narcissistic levels of proud and awed at her prowess, like she’d owned the biggest, baddest villain of the kingdom, like she’d saved the princess and gotten the whole cake. While Roman – well…

The young detective/tragic victim heaved himself up on the backrest and was immediately hissed at fiercely. He snatched his hands to his chest to protect them from more scratches. Peeking over the couch just enough to look over it, his precious hair a mess and his lovely hands badly wounded, donning his best, hurt puppy dog eyes, he found no sympathy from his beautiful wildcat.

Virgil snorted helplessly.

“I’m sorry-” The barista gasped, really, seriously feeling sorry and knowing he shouldn’t be rewarding Cat, he was creating a monster here, but Roman looked so messed up. All of that magnificent hair that usually made him look like a prince falling over his face in messy, fluffy tufts – that betrayed, gorgeous, hilarious face-

He doubled over, snickering turning to wheezing laughter the more he tried to suppress it, and felt Cat purring up a storm from where she was throned on his lap, Queen of the couch, breaker of horny cuddle sessions, bane of Roman’s existence.

Since the purring somehow seamlessly turned to spitting, frothing hissing whenever Roman got too close, the poor, beaten hero had to settle into the armchair facing the love of his life (stolen by a villainous adversary), where he tried not to mope too much. He felt a very justifiable pout coming up.

However, tears were now streaming down Virgil’s face while he made himself lightheaded trying to scold Cat and repress his laughter. He only succeeded in making himself hiccup and devolve into a new peal of giggles.  

Roman melted into the armchair.

*

They were quietly folding blankets and putting away pillows, comfortable with each other even though Cat was still sitting in Virgil’s hoody, occasionally touching the back of his head and neck and gurgling threateningly.

It was alright.

Roman wasn’t a malicious man.

And he would get her back for this…

Glaring secretly at the bristly beast whenever Virgil wasn’t looking, the young detective finally remembered that they had started a conversation before their mutual attraction had overwhelmed them like swooning lovers in a romantic novel.

Giddy at the memory, he briefly amused himself with imagining them on a paperback cover – his own shirt open halfway over his gleaming, muscular chest, even longer hair flying in the breeze, Virgil fainting in his arms, pale and lovely in a Victorian dress – oh my lord. A flush rose hotly to his cheeks, especially as he imagined that trim waist encased in lace and possibly even a corset.

This time, he felt Cat was justified in hissing at him while she reached for him with sharp little paws, trying to take a swipe, craving destruction.

Thankfully, Virgil took his blush as a sigh of anger as he twisted around and saved the enthusiastically violent racoon from tumbling out of his hood in its quest for blood.

“Sorry, Dude. I’ll figure something out.” He promised.

Roman thought he didn’t look nearly alarmed enough. However… his little bird deserved all the valiant defenders he could get. The beast might make him feel safe while Roman wasn’t there to watch over him like the tireless defender he was. In principle, the young detective would not mind prospective rivals to be scared off. Just not himself, did this beast not have any taste?

Perhaps he’d just have to invest more effort in his quest to win over the scraggly protector of his dashing not-damsel’s honor! That he could surely do!

Filled with a new sense of determination, he maturely stuck his tongue out to the raccoon.

Virgil snorted. He was happy.

Roman liked that a lot.

“Before I forget…” He started casually, remembering how important the question had seemed to Virgil. “You wanted to ask me something before we were torn apart so viciously?”

The barista startled, his heart missing a beat with nervousness. Right. That.

“Um, yeah. Yeah, I was just- you don’t have to say yes – obviously! It’s just if you don’t want to go alone- though you probably have plenty of people to go with- I know you have friends and coworkers and… fans… and Logan could go too so you really don’t need me to be in the way but if you want, I – uh…”

“Virgil,” Roman interrupted him gently, hoping with a fluttering heart he wasn’t misinterpreting the stuttering proposition. “Are you offering to go to the ball with me?” He asked gently, quickly adding for his lovely raven’s nerves benefit, “Because while I don’t want to pressure you in any way, going with you on my arm would make me the bravest and happiest man in the world.”

His words were very, very honest. Having Virgil there, as his date, as his to hold in his arm and show off, showing that the gay failure of the family had captured the most beautiful, smartest and strongest creature in the whole word – he would feel like the king in his castle. Nothing could make him feel like he’d succeeded despite being ashamed of his sexuality for so long than to show Virgil as his beautiful prize. Having him would validate all his struggles and make all the suffering worth it.

So no pressure to say yes. Roman was cool with whatever.

Virgil flushed brightly, ducking his head in a familiar gesture to hide under his hair. His heart beat a mile a minute, filling him with awed elation.

And a little bit of terror.

Looks like he was going to the ball after all.

*************************************************

AAAAnd it looks like Virgil will finally need an outfit for the ball. I wonder who will help him???

As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated! If you want to support me, here is my Ko-fi page. Love you guys! Take care and treat yourself to something nice <3

Next Chapter

[boringsofia]

HFGGHGGHJ Hey there homeboy I just thought of another oneshot idea. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want but yeah. Arthur x male reader where the reader is very impulsive and doesn’t really think. So like runs head first into a fight sometimes but he’s always gotten away with it. But one day, (y/n) actually gets in trouble. Maybe he’s gotten kidnapped or something by someone he mocked. And Arthur has to save him, and then Arthur confesses and hhdhdhd you can do what you want with that!

Thanks for the request! Deadass, I love Arthur with all my heart, even if he's a piece of shit most of the time. I ship him with my OC but SHHHH we don't talk about it. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: mention of Homophobia and blood

Reckless Decisions

There went (Y/N) again. Laughing his ass off while being chased by a group of Downers he just robbed. To say he's an adrenaline junkie is honestly an understatement. He acted on impulses and nothing else. And when Arthur wasn't around? Well, that's the biggest mistake to happen.

The man ran and took sharp turns until he finally lost the group of angered Wastrels. Wheezing as he tried to recover and breathe normally again. Spitting on the ground to get the phlegm out of his throat. Once he calmed down, he continued his walk towards the hatch, knowing Arthur was in there losing his shit over why it's taking (Y/N) so long. He did lie to him. Said he was just going to pick some Roses of Gilead to make more healing balm, yet here he was. Walking back 2 hours later with his bag filled with more than just the flowers and a bleeding nose.

Arthur is going to be very, very happy. Speaking of Arthur, he slowly let his mind wander to him. He remembers how cold the other was at the start but (Y/N) managrd to crawl through that cold shell he had built up. It took a bit, but he managed. Now they can't imagine being without the other. (Y/N) fell in love with Arthur quite slowly. He's someone who doesn't fall in love that fast, because of past experiences, but Arthur managed to take the man's heart rather easily. It was little things that made (Y/N) fall in love with him . Like the way he fixes his glasses, how awkward he is, how easily flustered he gets. It's cute. And Arthur has him wrapped around his little finger.

The moment the male entered the safe house, he noticed how dark it was. A dreading feeling growing in his chest until he was almost whacked in the back of the head with a cricket bat. Thank god for his reflexes, he managed to dodge the attack and put up a fight with whoever was trying to attack him. A small stumble and he found himself falling to the floor with a bleeding forehead. Just before he fell unconscious however, he caught sight of a man. A man he just so happened to have robbed the day prior. Oh boy.

Arthur had gone out to look for his impulsive friend. Well, more like love interest to be honest. Arthur had developed quite deep feelings for the other man but, considering homosexuality was looked down upon and they had been so busy with the whole 'getting out of Wellington Wells' situation, he had yet to say anything about it. He was also too much of a wuss.

He can still remember the day the two met by complete accident. He was running from the Bobbies, (Y/N) was running from Doctors. Then they crashed into each other and Arthur panicked. That was one of the few situations (Y/N)'s impulses actually came in handy, when he took his shaking hand and ran off into the Garden District to avoid getting themselves killed. After then the two just clicked and decided to stick together. Get away from everything with each other. As romantic as that sounds, (Y/N) gets on his nerves 80% of the time. But he can't help but dream of calling the other man his. It's a sweet fantasy. Unlike the sight of his motionless body getting dragged away into a house- wait..

Arthur's brown eyes widened when he noticed a small group of wastrels dragging his friend's body into a house.

"What the hell did you do this time, (N/N)...", he murmured under his breath, running and hand through his dark and dirty hair as he hid behind a tree to see if he could find a way in without being noticed. Of course that man was going to get himself into a situation like. Those wastrels are probably just some blokes (Y/N) pissed off again. Or robbed. It's quite a chore to travel with that man.

With a quiet, exasperated sigh and silent steps, Arthur managed to sneak to the back of the house. Letting out yet another sigh, this one out of relief, when he heard his friend's voice yelling profanities and insults at the wastrels. Such a quick-witted and fiesty man. Arthur loved that though. Among a lot of other things he loved about his companion. Like his dreamy eyes and charming smile and- "Come on now, Arthur, you need to save (Y/N), not fantasize about him. Keep that shit to when you're alone.", he quietly lectured himself with flushed cheeks, fixing his glasses while desperately trying to think of anything else but (Y/N). Even though he kind of had to think of him in the current situation.

He managed to force open a window with a jimmy bar and quietly travel through the house. Taking out whoever stood in his way. As much of a selfish prick as he may be, he will not allow anyone to take his loved one away from him. Not again. Just as he arrived where (Y/N) was tied up, one of the wastrels attacked him. The hostage yelled at his friend, kicking a weapon in his direction. Then cheering loudly when Arthur beat the guy unconscious. His cheers silenced when he noticed the pissed off Arthur walking towards him. Making the kidnapped male gulp and squirm nervously under the intense glare. He really fucked up this time. How was he gonna make it up to Arthur after this? He had a few things in mind but... he hadn't really told Arthur how he truly felt yet. And he wasn't planning on doing that anytime soon. They had to focus on getting out of this fucked up island alive, then they can worry about relationships and whatnot. Says the man who constantly gets in trouble and almost dies every 5 seconds if it weren't for Arthur who looks out for him. What the hell would he do without that man...

Back to the present, (Y/N) looked up at Arthur with a nervous (yet charming in Arthur's eyes) grin.

"Umm... This was a prank! April Fools?", the nervous man commented, hoping he wouldn't get in trouble with his bullshit excuse.

"It's August, (Y/N)...", the grumpy male replied as he cut off the rope from the other's wrists. The moment he was freed, he felt Arthur pulling him into a tight hug. The lanky man's arms wrapping around his waist.

As they pulled away, he noticed the man's glasses fog up a bit. Was he... crying?

"I was worried..", the concern quickly turned to anger, "God! I shouldn't be forgiving you so easily but you make it so hard for me to be mad at you for long! I was worried sick! You just disappeared for hours, then when I go looking for you, I see a group of wastrels dragging you away like you're some fresh hunt! You can be so reckless and childish and-... just... Agh! I love you and I just don't want to lose you!", Arthur yelled out to the other, his face going from anger to shock when he realized he had just confessed.

(Y/N)'s expression wasn't much different, he just stood there. Staring. Gaping. Then he started laughing. To Arthur's dismay, that is. At first the taller male thought he was being made fun of for his feelings but that changed when his troublemaker of a friend pulled him in for a kiss.

It lasted for only a few minutes but to them it felt like hours. They were basically on cloud nine.

Hesitantly, they pulled away from each other, their foreheads touching with brown orbs stared into shiny, (E/C) eyes. The latter reached up, wiping away the tears from Arthur's face with gentle fingers.

"You worry too much, love.", said (Y/N), pulling Arthur away and out of the house. Leaving a ton of dead bodies behind them as they walked back to their safe house, hand-in-hand.

Maybe being reckless and impulsive isn't all that bad. It did score (Y/N) a cute, nervous wreck of a boyfriend, after all. And together, they will escape this hell.

[iwritesoimright]

Slip Up

Word count: 1,445

Summary: Chris convinces you to go on the tonight show with him and subject yourself to Jimmy Fallons curious games, specifically the spousal version of know your bro. And of course embarrassing secrets are revealed, just not by the person you originally thought would slip up.

Warnings: uhhhh it's just an interview my dudes, there's talk of a butt naked Chris Evans and like some curse words but very few, and like mentions of sex but nothing graphic. Oh. And the word Daddy... I'm sorry. lol not sorry. And like bad writing cuz I'm v rusty....

A/N: Ha! I wrote it! I finally wrote something in two goddamn years. So, to explain the bs that you're about to read if you so choose, I was on a Chris Evans/ Steve Rogers binge. This was mostly due to one @venusbarnes and her beautiful works Occupation: Brat and Heavy Is The Head. Both are amazing and if you suffer from the same afflictions I do you should definitely read them.  Anyway, so I watched that one interview with Chris and his brother and I had this idea and poof here it is. Soooooooo I hopes ya like it. I tried real hard. Also thanks to my lovely editors Andrew and Ashley whom this would never see the light of day without.

You had seen the episode with Scott and Chris. You knew how much Jimmy loved to get all the dirty little details out of Chris. You knew just how easy it was to get those details, Chris said it himself, he's a terrible liar. You knew if you went on the tonight show with Chris something was going to come out, and Chris knew this too, which is exactly why he begged and pleaded for you to agree to do an episode with him. And of course who could say no to those precious baby blues? Besides maybe Jimmy wouldn’t have you guys play the game that brought much embarrassment to Scott Evans, right?  

“So, here's how the game goes, well Chris you already know how to play, y/n, I assume you’ve seen the episode where Scott and Chris played the game?” Jimmy looked between you and Chris, who sat to your right. You nodded, laughing “yeah I've seen it and I'm going to be honest I'm just a little bit scared to play it.” Jimmy looked at you incredulously, “what why? Why would you be scared to play it?” “because of him!” you gesture dramatically to a very cheeky Chris next to you, his childish grin furthering the point you're making, “who knows what's going to come out of his mouth? He’s an actual child!” this caused an uproar of laughter from Jimmy and the crowd and for Chris’s grin to widen even more. He looked at you, eyes sparkling with mischief “yknow what's to say I shouldn’t be afraid? You're no better a liar than me babe” you scoffed at that, turning back to Jimmy who you could tell was itching to get the game started. “okay well since you both know how to play ill just describe it real quick for those who might not know, and we’ll let Chris wear the headphones first since its y/n’s first time playing” Jimmy said, handing you the headphones, which you helped secure on Chris’s head, while he sorted through the question cards. Chris immediately started bobbing his head to the music “i love this song!” he practically shouted into your ear. You laughed, playfully shoving his head away and turning back to Jimmy. “okay so while he's... distracted... I'll ask you a question and if your answer matches his answer then you win, simple as that capiche?” you nod, giggling as you glance back at your boyfriend, dancing horribly in his seat, he looks up and winks at you as mouths the words to what looked to be Stacys mom.  

“Okay so first question, what is the most embarrassing thing Chris has done around your parents?” Jimmy looks up at you as your brow furrows in thought, “the most embarrassing thing he's done in front of my parents? Wow um okay, that’s a tough one he's actually surprisingly smooth around my parents, at least around me he is” you pause in thought for a second before your eyes light up with an idea, “wait okay here we go here's a story! There was one time, my parents came to visit for a week or so and they were staying in our guest room,” you paused and looked at Jimmy and immediately saw what he was thinking, “no, I know what you're thinking stop thinking it they didn’t ‘hear’ or ‘see’ anything like that” you said pointedly, “however due to Chris’s habit of walking around ass naked they may have seen just a little bit more of him than they wanted to...” Jimmy gasped “no! Your dad saw his dick?” you nodded, tears forming in your eyes as you laughed, “all three of us did, we were in the kitchen when he came sauntering in, I guess he forgot my parents were still there” Jimmy eyes widened “your mom saw his dick?” “oh, she didn’t mind, him and Hemsworth were the only reasons we could ever get her to watch marvel movies,” that earned a laugh, “my dad didn’t offer him any sausage at breakfast and that might be the funniest part.” Jimmy was leaned back in his chair cackling at this point, finally fell forward, attempting to slow his laughter “okay, okay Chris, take ‘em off, let's see what his answer is.”  

Chris pulled the headphones from his head, eyes wide and staring at you, “yknow all that talk about you being scared of what I’ll end up saying, I'm genuinely scared of what you were all laughing about.” you grinned back at him, eyes sparkling, “don't worry babe, I didn’t go into too much detail.” Jimmy pulled your attention back from each-other, “okay Chris, let's hear your answer, what's the most embarrassing thing you’ve done in front of y/n’s parents?” Chris’s eyes widened and he let out a long sigh. “the most embarrassing thing I've done? God everything I do is embarrassing, okay umm god okay is it the time I-” he turned to look at you and see your reaction but Jimmy caught him in time, “no! No cheating! Don’t look at y/n, this is your answer” Chris sighed, turning away from you, “okay okay, god, okay uhhhh it has to be the time I walked in on you and your parents butt naked and your dad refused to offer me sausage at breakfast right?” you and Jimmy gasped as the crowd cheered, a look of relief washed over Chris’s face. “okay good sounds like got that right, there were so many other things I could've said that probably would've been much worse...” “worse? How many other embarrassing things have you done around my parents?” you questioned at the same time Jimmy asked “worse? What could you possibly do that’s worse than walking in on your spouse’s parents butt-naked?” Chris just grimaced at the two of you, “that's a story for another time.” Jimmy laughed, “okay well let's move on to y/n’s turn, shall we? y/n will you don the headphones?” you nodded and fitted the headphones around your ears, flipping through the available songs to play Don’t Stop Me Now by Queen.  

Chris turned to look at Jimmy, who grinned mischievously as he posed the question. “okay Chris let's get you in some trouble, shall we? Your question is what is y/n’s favorite thing to call you in bed?” Chris’s eyes shot open wide and he began stuttering “w-w-w-what Jimmy, c'mon man do you want me dead? This is the exact thing that will get me killed” jimmy just laughed and nodded encouragingly. Chris sighed and dragged his face through his hands, “okay uh well there's two answers to this question, there's what y/n’s favorite thing to call me in bed and what my favorite thing is. Y/n, well y/n is a huge marvel nerd so calling me Captain is probably the big one. It's like roleplay I guess.” a few wolf whistles emanated from the crowd, making them both laugh. “ooh okay, Captain, I bet y/n isn't the first person to want to call you that in bed.” Chris shook his head chuckling, “no, definitely not, but don’t tell y/n that.” “alright” Jimmy gestured to you to take the headphones off, “y/n you can take those off now.”  

You let them slide off your head and looked to Chris, “that was short, I only got through one queen song.”  “see! I'm trustworthy! I didn’t say anything bad!” Chris exclaimed. “okay y/n, the question was what is your favorite thing to call Chris in bed?” Jimmy asked as he leaned forward, his eyebrows jumping up suggestively. “your eyes widen slightly but not even a heartbeat passes before you're answering, “oh easy, I call him Captain like all the time.” Jimmy throws himself backwards in his chair, cackling. “you said that so casually I love it!” you shrug, cocking your head to the side, “listen I get to bed Captain America, you can bet your ass I'm gonna be calling him that, who wouldn’t?” Jimmy finally regains his poseur and leans forward one last time, “okay y/n, can I ask you one more question?” you nod for him to continue, “okay y/n, what is Chris’s favorite thing to be called in bed?” you don’t even blink and the answer is flying out of your mouth, “oh, Daddy.” the entire studio erupts into laughter as your face turns beet red upon realizing what you said aloud. You look over at Chris who's smirking triumphantly, “and you thought I was gonna be the one to say something embarrassing.” you roll your eyes, shoving his face away from yours. Your head drops into your hands and you groan, hoping to god your parents aren't watching.

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

Can I ask for 3rd Life Scott angst? Idm who with, thank you :)

cw: blood

i feel like this one is a little darker than usual but that may just be me lol

…

  “Ow!” yelps Jimmy, pulling away from his friend.

  “Hold still,” Scott chides, continuing to clean the jagged cut in Jimmy’s neck. 

  “It hurts!”

  “Well then, you shouldn’t have tried to disarm a bomb by jumping on it!”

  Jimmy sulks. “You’ve got no sympathy for me. I died twice in half an hour and all you’re doing is telling me where I went wrong.”

  Scott gives a quiet sigh. “I’m sorry. I do have sympathy for you, but it’s hard to express it when both deaths were caused by your own stupidity. And the second time, you took two other people out with you.”

  “This is just making me feel worse, Scott!” Jimmy snaps. “I don’t need you to remind me that I’m stupid, okay!”

  “Jimmy, you’re not stupid.”

  “You just said I was!”

  “Well-.” Scott breaks off. “Okay, I kinda did. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean that. I just meant that sometimes, you don’t think before you act. There’s a reason I didn’t do Tango’s death game, you know.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” mutters Jimmy. “Whatever.”

  Scott takes this as his cue to shut up and get on with his task.

  Just as he’s patching up Jimmy’s last wound, they both hear a voice from above: “Hello there!”

  “It’s Scar,” Jimmy whispers. “Pretend we’re not here.”

  “I know you’re there,” comes Scar’s voice. 

  “Darn.”

  Scott gets up and heads outside Jimmy’s house to find Scar and Grian standing on the hill above them, in the middle ground between the valley and the highest point. 

  “Great,” he mutters. “What do THEY want.”

  Jimmy comes up behind him. “I only just turned red a few minutes ago. Surely they don’t want to finish the job… right?”

  “Well, only one way to find out.”

  Scott and Jimmy go up the hill and meet Scar and Grian near the edge that overlooks the river. “What can we do for you?” asks Scott warily. 

  Scar ignores him and goes straight to his companion. “Jimmy! I’m sorry to hear about your unfortunate death, and so soon after your first one. How are you doing?” 

  Jimmy shoots a panicked look at Scott, who shrugs back. “Um… it’s been a rough day, but… I think I’ll be okay.” 

  “That’s not what I meant,” says Scar. “I meant how’s the bloodlust?”

  “Wait, what?” 

  “The feralness stirring inside you, the desire to go after people and kill them, the lust for blood. You’re not feeling it?”

  Jimmy slowly shakes his head. 

  Scar frowns. “Huh. It usually kicks in pretty quick.”

  “I don’t want to hurt or kill anyone,” Jimmy says nervously. “I just want to carry on with my life.”

  “Oh! Maybe it’s not kicking in properly because you went from green to red so quickly. We might need to give it a bit of a kickstart.”

  Jimmy frantically shakes his head. “Nononononono, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to! I don’t want to be bloodthirsty like you!”

  Scar ignores him and turns to Grian. “What’s the best way to activate the red life bloodlust?”

  “Well… the easiest way would be to actually spill blood, I guess,” Grian replies reluctantly.

  “That’s a good idea.”

  Scar turns to face Jimmy, who fearfully resumes shaking his head. “No, no, no! Please!” 

  “I can’t hurt YOU, Jimmy, don’t worry.”

  Jimmy relaxes slightly, until he realises what that means instead.

  Scar turns to Scott, who has been watching this in silence. As he walks slowly towards him, Scott realises what’s about to happen and backs away, but quickly bumps into the cliff face behind him. He reaches for his sword, but Grian appears on his other side and snatches it from him.

  Left with nothing, Scott is unable to defend himself as Scar grabs his wrist and forcibly stretches his arm out. 

  “No, leave him alone!” Jimmy yells desperately. “Scott!”

  “Get off me!” Scott snarls, struggling to pull his wrist out of Scar’s grip.

  In response, Scar lifts his sword and slices a deep cut diagonally across Scott’s forearm. 

  Scott and Jimmy both scream in unison as blood gushes from his wound. Scar releases Scott, who automatically drops to his knees and clamps his hand over the wound to try and stem the blood flow, but the injury is larger than the area his hand can cover. He hangs his head, trying to hide the tears leaking from his eyes at the horrific stinging pain.

  Scar turns to Jimmy, who is staring at Scott with both hands clamped over his mouth in shock. “Do you feel it, Jimmy? The sight and smell of blood. Has it awakened something in you? It has, hasn’t it?”

  Jimmy’s eyes flash red. Scar’s words ring true; something HAS awakened in him. Something has snapped. Red hot anger is starting to surge through him, threatening to explode outwards at any moment.”

  “Let it out, Jimmy,” urges Scar. “Let it out.”

  So Jimmy does.

  But instead of targeting Scott like Scar expected, Jimmy charges straight at Scar and knocks him to the ground, his hands flying to Scar’s neck.

  Before he can do any damage, however, Scar quickly regains his senses and wrenches Jimmy’s hands off his throat. The two grapple on the ground for half a minute or so, before Scar finally manages to shove Jimmy off him and scramble to his feet.

  Jimmy immediately attacks him, raining blow after blow on him. Scar lifts his shield but the pure fury behind the red lifer’s strength breaks it within seconds. 

  As Scar twists round to start attempting to flee, Jimmy charges at him again and knocks both of them off the edge of the cliff. 

  They both roll down the side of the cliff for at least ten seconds before they finally hit the river at the bottom. Jimmy grabs hold of Scar under the water and tries to hold him down but Scar manages to get free and escape the river, leaving Jimmy to drag himself out on the other bank.

  Battered and bruised from his fall, Jimmy determinedly climbs back up the hill, passing Grian running in the other direction on his way, and finds Scott still bent over, clutching his arm. A worrying amount of blood has pooled on the grass under him.

  “Scott!” Jimmy calls, stumbling over to his friend. 

  Scott looks up as he approaches, his face pale. “J-Jimmy? Are you g-gonna kill me?”

  “What?! No! W-We gotta get you back to your house, Scott.”

  “No,” Scott responds shakily, through gasping breaths. “Go get the first aid k-kit. Quick.”

  Jimmy immediately dashes back to his house, almost falling over several times in the process, and retrieves the first aid kit. He brings it back to the mountain, where Scott has managed to move himself away from the patch of drying blood, sitting propped up against the cliff face.

  Kneeling down beside Scott, Jimmy takes out an antiseptic wipe and starts cleaning up the wound. Scott hisses with pain as it stings his skin, tensing his whole arm. 

  “Hold still, Scott,” Jimmy says teasingly. 

  Scott lets out a quiet chuckle. “How the tables have turned. As I recall, I was the one patching you up less than fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Yup, you were.”

  As Jimmy works, Scott clears his throat. “So, um… That was a thing that happened…”

  “Yeah.” Jimmy takes a deep breath. “Scar tried to get me to turn against you by activating my… my red life bloodlust, I think he called it.”

  “It really backfired on him,” remarks Scott. “I reckon he’ll think twice before trying to mess with you again.”

  “And you,” Jimmy says, starting to wind a bandage around Scott’s forearm. “I hope he knows now that if he tries to hurt you again, he’ll get another butt-kicking.”

  Scott nods approvingly. “You really did kick his butt. Honestly, Jimmy, I’m really proud of you. I think it’s fair to say you’ve never been the strongest fighter but I was really impressed by the way you handled yourself. I’ve never seen someone’s demeanor change quite as fast as Scar’s changed from smug as hell to absolutely terrified in about half a second.”

  Unable to hold back a proud smile, Jimmy finishes bandaging Scott’s arm and sits back on his heels. “There we go. That should be good.”

  Scott inspects his friend’s work. “Wow, this does look good. Thanks, Jimmy.”

  “No problem.”

  As Jimmy helps Scott up, the latter grips his arms for support, sudden dizziness overcoming him. “Oh boy…”

  “Looks like you lost a lot of blood,” says Jimmy worriedly, steadying his friend. “You should rest and get your strength back. Come on, I’ll help you back to the base.”

  “Wait.” Scott takes a deep breath, fighting against nausea. “Before I become delirious, I need to say something, so you know I mean it. Thank you for saving me, Jimmy. And just for being my friend. I get that I’m not the easiest person to live with, but I just need you to know I really appreciate you.”

  Jimmy blinks back sudden tears. “Oh, Scott… That means a lot. Thank you. But you probably are getting delirious so let’s get you back home, okay?”

  Scott gives a quiet chuckle. He’s never felt safer than he feels with Jimmy right now.

  “Okay.”

[zankivich]

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 14

a/n: i told you I wasn’t good at angst. 2-3 more chapters and then we out this bitch tbh. Hope you’re enjoying the final words. If there were ever a time to tell me you fuck with the fic this would probably be it tbh. I’m almost done. K bye. Also if you wouldn’t mind supporting at ko-fi that would be really dope. The kid is broke and has to go to grad school somehow. 

*Shawn’s point of view*

He can’t sleep without her. Can’t eat or make music or workout. It all hurts. It hurts more than he could ever possibly imagine. And he couldn’t get the sound of her voice breaking when she told him it was over out of his head. She loved him. And he loved her. But it wasn’t enough. Losing her is like losing everything that ever mattered to him. It situates her differently in his mind. He thought that she was everything to him, but it wasn’t until he had to go without her that he actually knew what it meant and what it felt like. It was like she controlled his heart beat, his lungs, even his mind. Without her there to keep him going, it all feels pointless. And so he cries a lot more than he had in years, and he reminds himself that she had been the one to tell him to get over himself and get in touch with his emotions. She had showed him it wasn’t bad to feel, and yet she never could have prepared him for this.

He tortures himself with it too. He replays the words, remembers the exact cadence of her voice so soft and muted and full of hurt. It’s over. It doesn’t matter. Goodbye. He never in a million years could have seen this one coming. All that’s left is for it to kill him slowly by the hour, when he reflects on what it means to lose her. To be without her was like not existing at all, but with a shit ton more pain.

He’s lying in bed on another guilt trip when his bedroom door opens. It’s Tiffany this time instead of his dad. It’s probably for the best. Given his current state, he surely would have lunged.

“Shawn,” She hummed softly. “It’s time to get out of bed.”

He cuddled her pillow a little closer to his chest and found that it didn’t smell like her anymore. And he had this moment where he wondered if this was the beginning of the end. Would he start to lose the parts of her that meant the most to him, that had become so salient? Would it be like she was never here at all? His chest tightened considerably and his eyes watered.

“No.” He mumbled.

“Look I--I’m not quite sure what’s going on here, or why your father has suddenly had a change in heart but...I’m here to take you to your contract signing, Shawn. This is literally everything that you’ve dreamed up for your entire life. Everything changes today, if you just get out of bed.”

The only thing he can think of is the last night he stayed over at her place. He played her a song he wrote about her. He kept messing it up because he didn’t wanna look away from her, but his fingers hadn’t quite memorized the chords yet. Everytime he messed up, he would just smile at her and eventually she asked him what he was doing. He told her:

I can’t help but look at you when we’re in a room together. I wanna always be looking at you, honey.

“I’m not signing, Tiff.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Tell dad I’m not signing and on top of that I quit.”

“Shawn. Now look I understand you’re upset but you need to be very strategic about what your next move is, here! You know what your father is capable of.”

His eyes drifted over to his nightstand where the watch that she bought him for christmas still sat. He’d never been clearer about anything in his whole life.

“Look I’m sorry he made you drive all the way over here, but my stance is final. Fuck his money, fuck his power, and fuck him. I want out.” He whispered tears threatening to choke him again.

He closes his eyes and pinch the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He can’t take it anymore.

“He’s already taken everything that matters. He can’t hurt me anymore.”

He rolled over away from her, glaring angrily at the wall until the sound of his apartment door closing rang in his ears. He goes back to counting the minutes without her. It isn’t enough to keep him preoccupied from the longing.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

It doesn’t feel the same. None of it. Your sheets are too rough. The shower is too cold. The eggs you make in the morning don’t taste the same. It’s lonely. Like devastatingly lonely. His curls don’t tickle your neck with morning kisses. You can’t hear him play guitar on the couch while you shower. His cologne doesn’t dominate your bedroom. It’s like he’s not there, and it’s like maybe he never was.

It is...so incredibly painful at first. You can’t even breathe without sobbing. But the worst part is that even when the tears dry, he’s still not there. And all you’re left with is a world that feels a little duller. Perhaps that’s the worst part. It’s not a catastrophe. No one’s died. No one’s in harm’s way. So the world keeps turning and everyone keeps living while inside you’re breaking down. Despite your world being absolutely rocked in every sense of the word, everyone else continued on as if nothing had ever happened.

You’ve got nothing that matters before you anymore. It’s not until you wake up one morning and you skip a flight to meet with Normani in Brazil that you realize the most painful thing of all. He had meant more to you than anything else, even your career, even the power, and the work. The day you’d rather lie at home missing him than working, is the day that you know you lost the most important thing in your whole entire world. And worse than that, you’d had the audacity to give him up for free. To a white man nonetheless. Your ancestors were surely singing negro spirituals from the skies.

The worst part is the waiting, because you weren’t quite sure what you were waiting for. Would they start with a single? Or perhaps a photoshoot? An interview on one of the Jimmys. You knew what you would’ve done, but Manny had a completely different style when it came to management and roll out. If Shawn was signed, he was going to take the media by storm without a doubt. The girls would certainly love him. Hell so would the gays and the non-binary folks too. He was so cute and fluffy. Your cute and fluffy! But not anymore. Somehow you had walked into your office ready to fight the whole world if it meant the two of you got to stay together. Not so much.

The fact that Tiana manages to get into your apartment must mean things are bad. She had a key to your apartment the way an assistant that makes your life run should. However you had an unspoken rule between the two of you that she shouldn’t enter your space without you knowing. Everyone knew how important your space was to you, how much being home needed to exist outside of work. For her to enter unannounced probably meant she thought you were dead. If only it were that simple.

The door slid open interrupting the mood of playing a playlist that Shawn had made for you back in a time where there hadn’t been a world of space between the two of you.

“Oh sis…” Tiana whimpered. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

You rolled your eyes into your pillow. “Well get a good look. It’s probably my permanent state.”

“Is this...is this a playlist he made you? Baby that is some middle school shit. We have to snap you out of it.”

Tiana slipped off her shoes and crawled into bed with you. You almost mounted a fight, afraid that she might take away the last of the smell of him. But then you remember that smell had left long ago. So, you fall a little more pathetically into her arms.

“I don’t wanna snap out of it, Ti. I don’t wanna lose what little I have left.” You whispered.

“What does that mean?”

“It means I deserve to mourn him.”

She snorted. “Y/n, he didn’t die.”

“No, that’s not...I mean I get to mourn what we were. It was--it was the best thing I ever had. And I lost it. I had to give it up so that he could be everything he’s ever wanted, and that means something. I get to hold onto it okay? Don’t take that away from me too. I already lost him, don’t make me lose him all over again.”

You could hear the lack of life in your voice in your own ears. And if the look of worry on her face is anything to go off, it must not be good. But it hurts too much for you to care.

“Okay. Okay, we can be alright with that.”

You nodded and snuggled a little deeper into her arms. She held for a while in silence. And it didn’t necessarily make you feel better, but it was nice to not have to shoulder the weight alone for a little while. If only for a little while.

***

You’re back at work the first time he reaches out. Work is still work and it still matters and you still love it. It’s just that you don’t get to take lunch breaks with him anymore. You don’t get the random phone calls to get you through the afternoon, or the dinner plans to look forward to at the end of the day. And it’s not the prospect of being with someone. It’s not being lonely versus being with someone. It’s him. You miss him. His laugh. That damn chest hair when he shows more cleavage than you did. The gravelly sound of his voice in the morning. And the way that he’d rather hold you in bed for hours than do anything else. You had never been loved so vastly and so wholesomely in your life. And here you were just trying to get by without it.

Your phone goes off while you’re in a branding meeting for fragrances. The only reason you paid any attention to it at all was because...it was a branding meeting for fragrances. Honeslty, who the fuck cares? When your eyes trail down to the notification in your lap and see his name you jump. It’s completely erratic, and you couldn’t explain it if you tried. Your heart rate spikes and your stomach is just as fluttery as ever. If there had ever been even the inkling that you could get over this fool, that quickly went straight out the window along with apparently any impulse that might stop you from opening it.

Shawn: Hi.

Shawn: idk if there’s like a rule somewhere that tells me how many days I’m supposed to go before being able to talk to you again. Is there a rule?

You shouldn’t answer. It went against everything that you’d said to yourself when you made the decision to leave. There had to be a clean break, or neither of you would make it out whole. You couldn’t answer him. You couldn’t.

y/n: I don’t think there’s a rule. But it’s probably not a good idea.

Shawn: Yea probably. It’s just that I walked past your favorite coffee shop today, and I went inside and bought you a dirty chai only to walk out and realized I couldn’t bring it to you.

There’s a sharp inhale as you try to breathe through the pain of a memory that might never be forgotten. It’s dumb. It’s coffee. Except for nothing is just anything with him. Coffee isn’t just coffee. It’s mornings waking up to him crawling into bed with you and handing you the cup because it’s the only free time in your schedule for the day. It’s shared bagels and fruit and kissing each other on the way out the door to go your separate ways. It’s adventures on the saturday mornings to find a coffee shop you haven’t been to before. It’s a whole slice of your life together that just doesn’t exist anymore.

Shawn: And then I spent the next two and a half hours of my life writing a song about how pissed I was at dirty chai. And instead of being mad at myself for wasting my life away I thought I could just talk to you instead.

You laughed, as he no doubt expected, and had to apologize to all the professional business people for not being professional at all. But hey, it was funny. And it was the first time you got to laugh since he left. Or you sent him away.

y/n: you’re gonna get me in trouble. I’m in a meeting, I can’t laugh.

Shawn: fuck them. I miss you. I just wanted you to know that. I miss you so much.

y/n: I miss you too. More than you can even imagine.

You end up in the bathroom in the middle of the day crying your eyes out. You don’t text each other again.

*Shawn’s point of view*

He gets called into his dad’s office more times than he can count. And first he says fuck it. Fuck him. Fuck his money. Fuck everything. But then his card gets declined at the gas station, and he figures it was time for daddy to finally pull the strings. The least he could do was go meet the prick physically to watch him do it.

He shows up in skinny jeans and an old gym t-shirt just to piss the guy off. His dad had never liked him in anything less than a hand tailored suit, and the thought of pissing him off one final time was too good to pass up.

Tiffany is waiting for him just like always when he gets there only this time she’s a little less than her perfectly controlled self. Her fingers twitch at her sides as she walks him back toward his father’s office, her face anxious and stressed.

“Tiff,” He attempted a weak version of a smile. “How are you?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t been this stressed at this job since your father told P Diddy to go fuck himself with a twenty-five thousand dollar bottle of scotch in his hand.”

“Yea? Well I’ll be out of your hair shortly and then things should go back to normal.”

“Shawn he...he’s pulling out all the stops. He has zero intentions of letting you leave.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Huh? He really thinks he can convince me to stay?”

“Yea he does. Please just...don’t give him a heart attack okay?” She asked as they stopped at the door.

He snorted and pulled harshly at the door without knocking.

“No promises, Tiff.”

In his office, his father is still just as pristine as always. He’s wearing a suit and standing at the ceiling to floor length windows of his office, hands in his pockets looking out like he’s contemplating the world. What a douche. It’s gross.

“You wanted to see me?” He sighed already over this conversation.

His dad turned to him and smiled for the first time since he was probably an infant.

“My boy! Why don’t you have a seat? Can I get you anything? Water, that kombucha shit you kids are into nowadays?”

“No, dad. I’m not interested. Why don’t you explain to me what part of my resignation wasn’t concrete enough. Tell me how I can make it clearer for you.”

His dad snorted. “Well of course you can’t quit.”

“...No I--I very much can. And I did dad. I no longer work for you. You don’t own me anymore.”

“Oh for christ’s sake, Shawn! You’re always trying to make me out to be some horrible villain.” He rolled his eyes taking a seat at his desk. “It’s very unoriginal.”

His eyes widened. “That’s only because you’re like the most evil bastard I’ve ever met in my entire life! You make darth vader look like a fucking kitten in comparison.”

His dad merely sniffed and looked at him as if to ask, “Are you done?”

And then he asked, “Are you done? Will you sit down now so I can tell you how I’m going to fix it?”

“This oughta be rich.”

He plopped down in the chair in front of his desk and leaned his chin on his hand in boredom.

“Now...I am going to get you set up in a studio next week. It’s already confirmed. Any producer you want, any collaboration you want, I’ve got it all handled.” He explained pushing a folder across the desk. “Open it. It’s the complete total package. I will have you at the top of the charts in less than a month. With your voice and your lyrics, and my power, you’ll be a force to be reckoned with.”

He stared down at the folder with zero inclination of picking it up. The story was tired. He didn’t need to be at the top of the charts. All he’d ever asked for was to be treated like a decent human being. His dad has never been able to give him that. And as much as he loved music, if it meant giving up y/n the dream wasn’t even the same without her. Everything that he wanted in life had drastically shifted. There was a hole in his life now and he knew that money and music and material shit wasn’t going to fill it. So what was the point?

“What about Khalid? Can you get me Khalid?” He asked.

His dad’s face quickly began to redden.

“What about Normani? Can I collab with her?” He continued. “Oh or what about Ariana? She’s fucking huge isn’t she?”

His dad bit his lip and took a deep breath to contain himself. This was usually the moment when he started throwing things.

“Be reasonable, Shawn.” Manny hissed.

“Me be reasonable? You convince my girlfriend to break up with me and you want me to be reasonable?! Fuck you!”

His blood boiled. His skin felt hot and his heart hammered in his chest. He wiped his hands over his face just to stop himself from spitting. He hated him. He really, really fucking hated him in a way he hadn’t thought possible. His dad had always prioritized his own self interest over everything else, but never had he ever been so vindictive to him. Never had he so viciously snatched away happiness from him.

y/n loved him. She loved him more than maybe anyone had been loved before, at least that’s the way she made him feel. He used to think that losing music was the most painful thing he’d ever experienced in his whole life. But to lose her? Her? It destroyed him. Endlessly.

“You’ve got to get the fuck over her!” His dad roared hopping out of his seat. “You’ve heard the saying, don’t shit where you eat? Well I’m here to tell you you don’t fuck where you eat neither kid,’specially not someone who could be the help! Now I hand you your fucking life’s work on a silver platter and you think you can talk down to me? Cuss at me? You little shit, I made you!”

“Did you...Was that a racist comment against her?” His voice trailed off.

His father huffed. “Oh don’t be such a snowflake Shawn, I raised you better.”

“Did you just compare the greatest thing that ever happened to me to the help?!”

“You gonna pick that bitch over your own family?! I don’t know what kind of spell she has over you, but it ends. Now! I am your meal ticket in this industry and in this world. You fuck with me and it’s over do you hear that? Your apartment. Your cars. Those fucking jeans on your waist. You are mine. Now you can either get with the fucking picture and grow the fuck up from your fairytale bullshit, or I can make a call and you’ll be out on your ass. Do I make myself clear?”

It’s amazing how one person in your life can put it all into perspective, how she could completely shake his whole entire world. It wasn’t a matter of choosing. It wasn’t his dad or y/n. It was choosing himself and his own happiness and his own freedom. Every day spent working for his dad was a day not living a life for him, but a day spent directly towards his dad’s own self-interest. It just so happens that nothing in the world could make it easier than hearing the way that he talks about her.

He gets out of his seat and bites so hard at his lip that blood hits his tongue. But it’s the only thing that’s gonna keep him from knocking the shit out of him, so it’s worth it.

“You’re not worth a damn, you know that?”

His dad blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t excuse shit. I’d rather never sing a single fucking note than give you anything ever again. That woman has more heart and more talent and more balls than either of us combined. You think you’re some tough guy because of your money? Look around dad, no one gives a fuck! At the end of the day you’re gonna die alone and miserable, and if I keep following your lead, I will too. I’m done. Get it? Fucking done.”

He shoved his chair out of the way and headed straight for the door, his dad’s yells and screams finally rolling off his back without care.

“You walk out of this room and you’re finished!”

He paused and turned back to his dad, fingers gripping tightly at the door handle.

“Just so we’re on the same page? You ever talk about her again like that and I won’t hesitate to beat the shit out of you. I hope we’re clear on that. Good bye.”

And that was the end of that.

***

She’s sitting on the edge of his countertop in the middle of his kitchen. It’s where she often would sit when he tried to cook meals for her, and vehemently failed. She’s in a big soft pink sweater that just lights up her skin in ways he couldn’t believe. She’s beautiful. She smiles at him and parts her legs for him to walk between; he does so willingly. The skin of her ankle traps him against the countertop pressed perfectly against her. He smiles.

“You don’t have to try to trap me. I’m already here.” He tells her.

“Good. Don’t go anywhere okay?”

He trails his fingers up her calves and presses closer to kiss her lips.

“Never. I’m here. Always.”

“Mmm. Me too.” She paused to kiss him again. “Always.”

He wakes up like being underwater for a really long time and finally coming to the surface. It’s disorienting to go from seeing her any minute of the day that he could, to only getting to be with her in his dreams. It sucks how bad it hurts. It sucks that he’d rather be asleep than awake, and how much he wishes he didn’t have to feel the pain of surfacing when the image of her is gone again. It just all sucks.

***

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like utter shit mate.” Niall grimaced.

He rolled his eyes and tugged at his hair in frustration. There wasn’t much he could afford to do was there? He was just sort of lost in it all.

“Is that why you invited me to lunch? To make fun of me? Cause I can happily go back to my bed.”

“Alright, alright, calm yourself Mendes. I invited you out here on account of two things. One, Ronnie told me he hooked you up with someone at Atlantic and you never called the guy. Now I’m sitting here thinking surely my Shawnie Boy isn’t a fucking idiot, is he? So that can’t be. And then two! I show up to listen to the final mastering of the album only for some pompous bloke to tell me you quit your job!” He exclaimed. “Now what the hell is going on?”

Niall leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms before staring him down in defiance. The funniest part was that Niall had the kindest, sweetest face in the world. Even though he was trying his hardest to seem angry and intimidating, he just seem really worried and flustered. Maybe it wasn’t funny. Maybe it was sad. Sad. Everything was sad.

He goes to tell his friend about the hell his life has become when two people walk up to their table. It’s a little girl no older than ten or eleven, with an older teenage guy with his hand on her shoulder. He’s probably sixteen or seventeen based off the acne and the look of utter boredom at the world. The little girl is hiding her face behind what looks to be a physical copy of Niall’s album. He hadn’t seen a real CD in years. Must be a hardcore fan.

“Go ahead. Ask him.” The guy asked in a tone just as bored as his demeanor.

She looks up at him with eyes so wide and sparkly that even teenage angst couldn’t defend against it. He sighed and pulled her closer against him.

“Look man she’s a really big fan of yours. Honestly. Like won’t listen to anything else besides you. Will you please do us all a favor and sign her CD?”

Niall turned to two of them and snorted happily. As far as fan encounters go, it’s probably one of the best ones you can get. He held his hand out politely and the little girl plopped the CD into his waiting hand before quickly covering her mouth with her hands. She remained silent.

“Well hello there. I’m Niall by the way. What’s your name darling?” He asked.

A squeal was just barely masked by her hands and Shawn could seen the teenage boy roll his eyes in a certain level of familiarity. Niall smiled at her and the squealing continued.

“Her name is Jenny.” Teenage boy answered on her behalf.

“Jenny. That’s a great name. Jenny I would love to sign this and take a picture for you if I could, but I need to hear your voice first. Can you talk to me please?”

Shawn watches the way they interact. Watches the selfie taking and the signing and the hug. The way she opens up to him and tells him how much she means to him. It reminds him a lot of listening to music at that age. Whether it was Ed Sheeran or John Mayer, music can often times feel like the only thing in the world that makes sense. And it made him feel whole and it made him feel loved and cared for, when no one could convince him of those facts. He had needed music for so much of his life, and it had given him a great deal of self-importance. In that moment he felt more connected to a ten year old girl than to anyone in the world. And it set his mind on a path that it hadn’t been in a very long time. A place he thought would never be an option again.

“You two have a nice day!” Niall smiled at the duo ran off.

Shawn was already tripping out of his chair and reaching into his wallet to pay for the meal they hadn’t eaten yet.

“Get up, let’s go.” He told Niall.

“Oiy! What the hell’s going on?”

“Dude, let’s go!!!”

***

Why can’t I quit when you break my heart open?

I need you more than I know

***

I know a girl, she's like a curse

We want each other, no one will break first

So many nights, trying to find someone new

They don't mean nothing compared to you

***

“That sounded incredible!” Niall called through the speaker.

Shawn shook his head and readjusted his headphones.

“Again, please? I wanna try it one more time.”

***

“Mate, I got someone I want you to meet!” Niall grinned. “Teddy this is Shawn. Shawn this is Teddy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Teddy, aye?”

She grinned. “That simply is not the craziest thing about me in the slightest. I sure hope you can get over it.”

He shrugged. “Crazy? I can get down with crazy.”

“Oooo. This should be fun.”

***

“I don’t know, it’s like...maybe, maybe one day I could get to a place where it was worth trying again. I know realistically that’s a thing. But I can’t even imagine it. I can’t imagine anything that isn’t her.”

He takes another pull of the blunt she rolled for him and let’s his back hit against the bottom of the couch.

She nodded. “Great so write that. Write what it would be like if you found somebody new. We get the longing, we get the angsty I miss you shit. Write what it would be if you actually tried it though.”

He nods up at the ceiling, arms behind his head as the words start to formulate.

“Like . . . like loving her isn’t something I would ever be able do because it’s not--it’s not you. Because I had you, I don’t want anyone else.”

“Yes. That. Now write it, lover boy.” She sasses handing him a guitar.

***

They’re on a break standing outside the studio while Niall and one of the producers smoke. He hasn’t seen the sun in who knows how long. He’s been living in the studio, Niall putting up every dime for him to record. Every person that he works with, every hour that he spends making this thing is largely because of him. And he’ll never forget it. Somehow what means more to him than any of it is just how good of a friend he is.

“Why don’t you just call her mate?” He asked.

He was leaning against the side of the building peering up at the night sky. He still missed her so badly it hurt to think about. And all he’s been doing every day is thinking about it.

“I can’t.” He sighed. “I mean I--I could. I just...I wanna have something to show her. I want her to know that there was another option. If I try and get her back now, it will just look like I gave up my shot for her and she’d never be able to live with herself. I know her. This is...it’s the only way.”

Niall nodded and took another puff.

“And if it doesn’t work? Cause sometimes it doesn’t, ya know?”

“I know. If it doesn’t work than I tried on my own terms. And then it’s no one else’s fault but mine. Not hers’. Not my dad’s. Not yours. I just have to hope she’ll listen to me when my whole heart is on this record.”

“Well shit. It’s a hell of a plan man.”

****

He’s drunk. There’s no way around it. He’s drunk and tired and lonely a maybe a little horny too if he thought about it long enough. Niall, Teddy, and another producer got him hammered when he said he couldn’t write another song if you paid him. They probably meant for it to be inspiring, but really it had just rooted him in his sadness. So, he stumbled home and fell into bed and that was when it hit him.

“Hello?”

“You’re not here.” He mumbled into the dark.

“Shawn? What the hell is going on; it’s three am.”

He kicked his legs out on the bed and whined into his pillow.

“You’re not here! I’m drunk and I’m lonely and I want you to hold me. I want...I want you to tell me that no one gets to love you because they can’t do it like I can. I want you so bad. Why aren’t you here?”

She breathed deeply. Soulfully. It sounded heavy and full and like maybe it hurt for her to breathe the way it still did for him.

“Where are you right now? Are you safe?”

“I’m at my apartment... Y/n, I was getting kind of used to being someone you loved.”

She giggled and he had to roll over and shove his face into the mattress to keep from exploding at the sound. God could she get any cuter?!

“You didn’t write that one, superstar.”

“I wish I had.” He whispered. “Come over. Please? No wait, d--don’t. I’ll come to you. Let me come to you. I’d do that for you.”

“I think that’s a bad idea. You stay right there sir. You fall even more than normal when you’re drunk.”

He bit his lip and held the phone a little tighter against his ear.

“Yea. You used to catch me though. Why’d you let me fall?”

“Because...Because I knew you were gonna get to fly.” She sniffled. “And I didn’t want to be the reason that you never tried.”

He clutched at his chest, eyes closing. “Please don’t cry. I love you so much. Don’t cry.”

“I know. I know you do, and I knew you’d never let me go if I didn’t make you. I had to, Shawn.”

He shook his head, wishing more than anything that she was there so he could shake her and kiss her and flick her on the forehead.

“No. You didn’t. We could have made it work. I would have made anything work with you. You were it, ya know?”

So now she’s crying and he’s crying and her side of the bed is still cold and it doesn’t even smell like her anymore. And he’s just supposed to give up? He’s just supposed to do nothing? With this crazy ass beautiful woman who was the best thing to ever happen to him? Yea, not fucking likely.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

You were trying to reheat this amazing french onion soup your mother had sent you the recipe for. Your stomach growled as you ran the spoon through it as if to say: “bitch we simply must eat more.” Despite Tiana’s begging, you didn’t have the multi-pronged attack from Shawn and her to convince you to eat in the busy work day anymore. The doorbell rings and makes you burn yourself on the hot liquid causing you to curse and run your finger under some cold water. The doorbell rings again. And then a third, fourth, fith, and sixth time in quick succession. By the time you head towards the door whoever was behind it had taken to knocking aggressively as all hell instead.

“There better be somebody dying for you to be knocking on my door like--”

You yanked the door open only for six feet of Canadian headache to literally fall into your apartment and onto the floor. You know...like an idiot?

“Oh my god! Oh my god, what’s happening?!” You exclaimed.

You were sure the son of a bitch had been shot.

“Ran straight from the subway! Elevator too long! Took Stairs. Can’t breathe.” He wheezed.

“You….You ASSHOLE!” You screamed kicking him in the thigh. “I thought you were dying!”

“OW! Goddamn y/n, I thought I was too!”

He fell back against the floor and placed his hand over his heart working steadily to gain his breath.

“Why are you here Shawn!” You screeched. “Besides to give me a heart attack?!”

“Because! I need you to be my manager!”

And that is where you killed him.

Buy me a ko-fi???

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[speedybaeandbirdiebae]

WandaVision: On a Very Special Episode... Part 2 AU Remake

Pietro and Candance are pulled into the hex and are now happy residents of Westview.  But there is something more to just a visit with a long lost sister. Warnings: Spoilers from Episode 5 of WandaVision, uber cuteness of Billy and Tommy, and fangirling Pairings: Pietro Maximoff x Candance Wilson (OC), Wanda x Vision Words: 2266

It hurt, everything hurt. She didn’t know what was going on nor did she understand why she felt a warm summer’s breeze rather than the crisp autumn air. However, in her head she could hear someone repeat the phrase “Play your part, you’re no longer who you know you are, you’ve always been here in Westview, it is your home”. Sitting up on the soft green grass Candance looked around the strange town square. Everyone seemed to be going about their businesses. She could hear excited chatter, people weren’t paying her any attention, some of them did stop to stare at her, some of them pointed and whispered. She sat up and placed a hand to her head, she let out a soft groan an oncoming headache invaded her head. Looking down at her clothes she began to wonder just what she was wearing, however that voice in her head once again repeated the same phrase, telling her to play her part, she needed to keep things happy, hopeful, and no sorrow. “Pietro?” Candance whispered softly as she looked beside her and saw her boyfriend was sitting next to her, but wait he was staring up at the sky unblinking almost as if he was entranced by something. “Piet! Pietro!” Pietro snapped out of his thoughts and looked down at Candance with a small smile. His hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “Hey sleepyhead.” “Pietro, I was asleep?” Candance asked softly staring at him. “Wait, you let me sleep in public like some kind of spazz?!” she slapped him in the chest. “How rude, maybe I should find someone else to be my husband then.” Pietro shook his head. “I’m sorry princess,” he chuckled before he stood up and dusted his pants off. “Come on, we need to get going to find Wanda.” “Wanda? You never mentioned a Wanda.” Candance said before a thought invaded her mind breaking through the cloud that was covering her memories. “Wanda…Wanda is Pietro’s sister; she’s my best friend and she needs hel—What if Wanda is his ex-girlfriend?! What if he’s cheating on me?!” “Wanda’s my sister,” Pietro assured her. “We haven’t seen each other since she left home when she was 15, our parents had left us alone and I tried to keep her happy.” “Right, your sister,” Candance got up and stretched as she once again took note of her attire. She was wearing a pair of leggings under a short skirt with a top that revealed her midriff. She reached up and touched her head feeling that her hair was held up in a tight high ponytail with curls framing her face. She looked over at Pietro quietly and took in his appearance. Pietro was dressed in a pair of black jeans with a purple shirt and a black leather jacket over it. His hair was slicked back with a few strands out of place. What stood out the most was the strange necklace he was wearing. However, something else was wrong, Pietro sounded different, he didn’t have his accent. That was one thing that Candance remembered him having, and she also knew had a better sense of style. What was going on? “Come on babe, we have to go visit Wanda,” Pietro told her. “I think she lives around her somewhere.” “Umn, ok.” Candance fell silent and gave a soft squeak of surprise when she felt him lift her up and into his arms. “Pietro, I can walk on my own.” “How can I let you walk when we’ll be running?” Pietro kissed the tip of her nose and took off running. He took a moment to look down at Candance as he noticed she was holding onto him for dear life. Wait why was he carrying her? She had something to keep up with him, right? She’d been lent a pair of wings by Sam---wait no Candance couldn’t keep up with him. She wasn’t gifted with powers. Not like him and Wanda. She was a normal girl he met in Sokovia when Candance was volunteering at a farm. Candance tried her best to figure out what was going on, why was everything so strange? Why did her head hurt? Most of all why was everyone they passed unphased by Pietro using his power in public? Shaking her head to clear the thoughts she sucked in a breath and laid her head on Pietro’s chest as she let him carry her to wherever the mysterious Wanda lived. 

---------------------------------------   “Pietro and Candance were pulled into the hex,” Monica looked at Darcy and Jimmy with worry all over her face. She knew the two were capable of fighting but she also knew that Wanda would probably eject them from her world if they even tried talking to her. “Pietro?” Darcy asked. “You mean Pietro Maximoff? Wanda’s brother? I thought he was killed by Ultron.” “He was, but the technology used by S.H.I.E.L.D. brought him back, and he had been recovering with Clint Barton and his family.” Monica explained. “And what’s his relation to Agent Wilson?” Jimmy asked. “Agent Wilson, Candance is Sam Wilson’s younger sister and also a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent,” Monica said. “She and I are friends and I’ve had her help me out from time to time. She and Pietro are dating.” “Dating?” Darcy got a small smile on her face and looked at Jimmy holding out her hand. “Pay up Woo, I called it.” Jimmy rolled his eyes and pulled some money out of his pocket and handed it to Darcy. “So, Pietro and Candance went into the hex to bring Wanda out?” “No, Pietro might’ve ran inside the hex to save Wanda himself and if I know Candi, she probably went after him.” Monica shook her head. “But don’t count those two out, they might be the ones to get Wanda to stop the hex.” “Or she could kill them,” Darcy reminded Monica. “We’ve seen her angry and we don’t want to make her angrier. I---.” She heard Wanda and Vision arguing coming from the tv. She quickly walked over to it and looked at the scene unfolding. “This is new.” “New?” “Wanda and Vision don’t fight, and it looks like Wanda’s not cutting it out of her show.” Darcy said.

------------------------------------- Pietro sat Candance down in front of a house and looked at her with a small smile. “This is where Wanda lives,” he said in excitement. “I can’t wait until you meet her.” “Pietro,” Candance began and placed a hand on his cheek. “Something’s wrong, haven’t you noticed how everyone’s happy? And what happened to your voice and—ow, umn yeah I’m excited to meet Wanda.” “Did you hurt yourself?” Pietro asked almost immediately began checking her for any bruises. “No, I don’t see anything, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you while I was carrying you?” “No no, just a headache,” Candance assured him with a smile. “I’m fine, come on let’s go say hi to your sister.” Pietro nodded as he turned to ring the doorbell. He didn’t notice a figure hiding behind some bushes in the yard nor did he notice that Candance had gone to investigate. Candance for a second had regained control of her mind and looked around the yard, she reached into her…handbag and groaned when she saw the only thing in it was a squirt gun. Shaking her head she walked toward the bushes and got closer and closer until. A stray black cat leapt out of the bushes and hissed at her before taking off. Candance rolled her eyes before looking over her shoulder when she heard the front door open. She spun around and saw it, or rather her. “Wanda is here, so she’s sa---ow…” Candance fell to her knees and held her head before looking up with a small smile and got up as she jogged up to where Pietro was. “Wanda who is this?” Vision asked. Wanda looked at Vision before looking back at Pietro. She didn’t say a word and merely continued staring at him in disbelief. “Long lost bro gets to squeeze his stinkin’ sister to death or what?” Pietro asked and held open his arms for Wanda to hug him. “Pietro…” Wanda whispered before she hugged him tightly. Pietro hugged his sister with a small smile before looking up and took notice of Vision. “Who’s the popsicle?” Wanda stayed silent before noticing Candance standing behind Pietro. “Candance?” she whispered before shaking her head. There was no way that her brother was here let alone her best friend. “Wanda, I’m sorry for dropping in unexpectantly, but I wanted to see you.” Pietro told her before he turned and grabbed Candance by the hand and pull her inside the house. “I know you have several questions but first I’d like you to meet Cadence, we’re going to be married in a few months.” “Hi,” Cadence said as she tried to figure out where she had seen Wanda before. It was strange but for some reason it seemed as though they met before. “I’m sorry that we didn’t call but Pietro insisted on surprising you.” “No problem,” Wanda waved a hand and smiled. “Oh, um Pietro and Candance, this is my husband Vision.” “Vision huh?” Pietro looked Vision up and down as he raised an eyebrow. “Where did you meet him?” “At um, a party,” Wanda said quickly. “Vision and I have been married for awhile now, we’ve lived in Westview for years.” “Oh cool,” Pietro said. “So, I think me and bro-in-law should get to know each other, how about you and Candi go and get to know each other.” “Good idea,” Wanda said. “Follow me.” Candance followed Wanda into the kitchen, as she looked at her quietly before sighing. “So Wanda, you and Pietro grew up overseas and moved here when you were teenagers?” “Uh, yeah sort of, our parents are…” Wanda began and paused. “Our parents are no longer with us, but Pietro coming here after 7 years is kind of a surprise.” “I didn’t know he had a sister,” Candance laughed softly and shook her head before looking at Wanda as she walked forward and grabbed her by the shoulders. “Wanda, what’s going on? Why are we here? Are you ok what’s goi--.” “Candance are you ok?” Wanda asked narrowing her eyes as red magic began to circulate around her hands. “Yeah, I meant are you ok, I know how weird it is for Pietro to be here,” Candance said and let Wanda go. “I’m sorry can I have a glass of water?” “Yeah…” Wanda stepped away and went to get Candance a glass of water. She took note of the strange bag on Candance’s back. “So where are you from?” “Oh, I’m from Harlem, New York.” Candance said brightly and looked around the kitchen. “I was raised by my brother after our parents were murdered by gang members. I think that’s why Pietro and I bonded so quickly two orphans in this world with just our siblings.” “I see, and you’ve seen your brother?” Wanda asked pouring water into a glass before sliding it to Candance. “Hmn? Yeah, Sam is in Washington D.C. on business for a while,” Candance explained. “He and his friend are running our family’s restaurant.” “I see,” Wanda said as she began walking around to get behind Candance to inspect the bag she was wearing on her back. “So, your brother lives nearby, and you decided to come with Pietro to see me?” “Yeah, it’s a fun road trip before Pietro and I get married.” Candance began to giggle. “I think he wants to run off to Vegas to get married.” “I see,” Wanda managed to get behind Candance and reached for the bag before she saw Candance turn around. “Oh do you want me to take your backpack up to the guest room where you Pietro will be staying?” “No thanks,” Candance said and looked at Wanda with a serious look. “You’re obvious curious about what I have in this bag aren’t you?” “no no,” Wanda said shaking her head. “It’s nothing really,” Candance took off the backpack and opened it as she held up a piece of red fabric attached to a red sleeve. “A design I’m working on for Halloween, but you’ll have to wait and see what it is, since I want to keep it a secret from Pietro.” “Oh, I see,” Wanda laughed it off as she finally relaxed deciding that Candance couldn’t have been sent in to pull her from her life she had built with Vision. “Hey, we should go into the living room and see how the guys are doing?” Candance asked. “I’m sure they’re probably bonding.” “Right.” Wanda said and followed Candance out of the kitchen into the living room and laughed at the sight of Vision being held in a headlock by Pietro. “Pietro, Vision what’s going on in here?” “He attacked me,” Vision said. “Stop being a baby.” Pietro chuckled. “I thought I’d show bro-in-law some Sokovian self-defense moves. He’ll need to learn since he’s married to you.” Wanda rolled her eyes but laughed deciding to let Pietro have his fun. She did begin wondering if she brought Pietro back to life, but why did she bring Candance to her world too? Was it because she missed her best friend? PLEASE STAND BY

[honeycombme]

Easy as Breathing (PT. 2)

Clyde has never looked so sweet.

Part 2!

(Pt 3 available here!)

Your fingertips shook ever so slightly as they pulled clothes from your dresser. What do you even wear camping. Nothing you dredged up from the depths of your drawers was satisfying the goal you had in mind. Of course, all you wanted to do was feel desirable, but how do you do that when you’ll just be sweaty and gross for the entire weekend? You decided to just text Lauren. You wrote, “EMERGENCY. Wtf am i supposed to wear to keep Clyde’s attention? Surely not the t-shirt from my middle school robotics team?!”

You felt even more frantic. Bathing suits. You didn’t have anything other than a cheap, all black one-piece. You texted Lauren again. “Ok ok and bathing suits...i’m fucked”. You took a shaky breath, piling in essentials you at least knew you’d need. After all the toiletries and whatnot were sorted, you checked your phone. Lauren must’ve been having a ball. 

“Oh sweetpea, honeybear, sugarplum. I’m at the mall right now, what’s your size?” Her text burned into your retinas as you contemplated whether or not to give her this power. You relented, realizing you were already a lost cause and she could only help from here. After she received your text about sizes, she sent a wink emoji. Winking….about what???

You decided to fold up every piece of clothing you ripped out of your dresser while you waited for her to let you know whether or not she had any luck with bathing suits or clothes. You bargained with yourself, realizing t-shirts, shorts, and leggings would just have to do in this case. You folded everything neatly into a duffle bag, cursing under your breath at your nerves. 

Your phone dinged. When you unlocked the screen, Clyde’s name came into view. Your heart fluttered and you felt the butterflies again. You’d been texting on and off since last night you went to the bar, getting to know each other little by little. You learned that  he loves spaghetti and the smell of the Earth fresh after the rain. You learned that he was in the military and that he enjoys the moon more than the sun. You learned that his favorite dessert was peach cobbler. You also learned that you wanted to learn everything about him. 

He texted, “Just finished puttin some booze in a cooler for us, that way everything’ll be nice and chilled when we get there. I’m sure excited to be gettin there and settlin’ down for the night. I hope you’re as excited as I am, darlin.” You leaned against the closest wall you could find, re-reading the text over and over as you sighed. No matter what you wore, you were certain it’d be perfect. 

Lauren proposed that you both drive together to minimize the amount of cars at the campsite. When she showed up, she invited herself in to help you with bags. She looked you up and down as she saw you standing in your living room, closing the door and whipping her head back around. In her hands was a small fabric bag and she began pulling out the contents. 

“Ok so I packed you the swimsuit and a couple other essentials; however, we need to fix this outfit immediately,” she laughed, walking over and placing a hand on your shoulder. “Listen dear, you’re perfect; but if i’m going to live vicariously through you, i’m gonna need you to put these on.” She held out her hand, holding a few items of clothing. 

You unfurled the clothes, revealing a cropped, v-neck tank top, high-waisted jean shorts, a thin, loose cardigan, and a ballcap. You looked from the clothing to her, panic rising in your throat. 

“Y/n, it’s going to be fine. This way you’ll be more comfortable, too. It’s hotter than a rattlesnakes taint out there.” Lauren was perfect. She always had a quip to make you laugh, put you at ease. You ran into the bathroom and changed as fast as you could, trying not to look at yourself in the mirror too hard. When you walked out, she praised you. 

“YEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSS girl, I AM drooling. I’m quite the life saver. No need to thank me, let’s just get outta here, shall we?” With a spring in her step, she grabbed the bag and walked out of the door. You picked up your own bag and shuffled out, locking the door behind you. And so it begins. 

When you arrived at the campsite, there was a man in a guard shack checking every vehicle in. As Lauren approached, she stated the party’s name (Clyde Logan…*sigh*) and the man let you through. You drove for about 20 minutes around and around seemingly endless trees, camp sites, and then back the place you started. 

“Fuck,” gritted Lauren. She was visibly frustrated, and you were no better to navigate the woods than her. You decided to text Clyde. 

“Classic. Girls lost in the woods. Any way you can give me a play by play on how to get there?” You sent your text in a flash. Only seconds later, Clyde’s name appeared on your screen; he was calling. 

Your stomach dropped but you answered quickly (too quickly? Oh shut up y/n). 

“Hey there darlin’ can ya give me an idea of where you’re at? I can walk up to the main street ta meet ya.” His southern drawl was exceptional, I mean. WHERE did he pick this gorgeous twang from, the heavens?  

You chatted quickly about your surroundings, coming about a gentleman holding a phone, looking in the other direction. It was him. His hair was halfway pulled back into a convenient bun, t-shirt ripped open on the sides revealing his sides and chest. You shuddered slightly. When he turned his head your way, Lauren had slowed down drastically. He smiled and waved his arms for you to follow him. The path became littered with branched and trees, the further you drove in, the thicker the foliage became. Lauren kept a decent distance between him and the car. 

“Sure is looking like a snack for you, hmm?” she teased. She bit her tongue and smiled wildly when you glanced at her, pleading. Your nerves were already shot, and you felt way out of your element in this outfit. The skin that was exposed feeling every draft that passed you. 

When the car stopped, your stomach jolted upwards. You exited the car, tugging at the hem of the crop top to try and regain some modesty. Clyde was talking to Jimmy, but when he looked over and saw you, he jogged over to help. 

“Ya made it in one piece, ladies,” he beamed, giving Lauren the quickest of embraces. He made his way to you, smiling wildly as he placed an arm around you tightly, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. You could’ve sworn he breathed you in. When he pulled away, he eyed you up and down, eyes lingering on the skin between your shorts and your crop top. You were immediately away of your exposed skin again, tugging at the hem of the shirt. 

He led you into the clearing of the campsite, holding you and Lauren’s bags over his shoulder. She reached for hers as he showed you where your tent was, escaping into the tent to set her stuff up. He placed yours down next to his tent. 

“This here’s Jimmy Logan, worst best brother ta ever walk the earth-” Clyde stated as Jimmy walked towards you arms open. 

“And you must be the pretty little thing he’s been ravin’ about, c’mere sweetie,” Jimmy Logan’s arms were around you in the blink of an eye, Your left hand raising to pat his back. As he pulled away, you noticed how bright his eyes were, a stark contrast from Clyde’s molasses colored eyes. His smile was warm and genuine, an honest smile you realized you needed to see. Jimmy’s friend introduced himself and you shook hands, becoming acquainted with everyone. 

When Lauren reappeared, she also received the same introductions, hugs and quips. You were both led through the options for dinner and available snacks, Clyde hanging around in the background sipping a beer. He was tending to a small fire, attempting to build it into one that would last the evening. Lauren and you spent a good fifteen minutes applying sunscreen and bugspray, leaving you both slightly greasy with a bit of sickly perfume hanging on your skin. 

A few hours had gone by and drinks were heavily passed around, sitting by the fire. No one was shy to drink from Jimmy’s friend’s flask after a few drinks, and boy did it burn. You swallowed an accidental mouthful from the flask, trying to regain control of your facial expression as it burned your esophagus. 

“That there is my momma’s best apple pie moonshine,” declared Jimmy’s friend. “She won awards from it….there’s another handle in my trunk.” He laughed, holding his belly as the flask made its way back to him. 

“Sometimes I honestly believe your momma’s been tryna kill you with that stuff,” chuckled Jimmy, slapping his chest as the remnants of the moonshine trickled down. You smiled into the heat of the fire and the heat in your veins. Shit. You were a little drunk. 

You were saved by Clyde pulling out hot dogs and the works. You mowed down probably two...maybe three hot dogs when you felt you had control of your mouth. Jimmy and his friend spent the sunset asking you and Lauren questions about your lives. He kept referring to you as “city girls” and acting in awe of the life you had back in New England. It was interesting to see their reactions to your everyday ventures. 

You asked the same amount of questions in return, learning about Jimmy’s criminal past (he has nothing to hide) and his hopes for the future. Clyde remained quiet and attentive, soaking in all the information. You turned to face him. “What about you, mister tall, dark and mysterious?” You felt brazen, realizing you didn’t mean to put him on the spot. Clyde just smiled at you. 

“I’ll tell ya anything you wanna know, miss.”

You all got to talking about how Clyde came to own Duck Tape, how he and Jimmy got themselves into all sorts of trouble, and how they used to come to this campsite to get away from all the negatives in their lives. 

The sun was beyond set and you began to feel the draft of the air against your skin becoming colder and colder. Without realizing you were, you started shivering; teeth chattering every so often as you attempted to stifle it. It was nerves as well, Lauren and Jimmy’s friend hit it off, deciding to go watch the fireflies by the lake's edge. Now it was you, Clyde, and Jimmy. 

“Welp, since the suns down I’m gonna take this chance to go wash off the day. You guys need anything, you holler.” Jimmy stood promptly, grabbing his bag from beside his tent and walked off into the woods. 

“Shower?” you questioned Clyde. You didn’t realize but he had stood when Jimmy did, perhaps he wanted to go shower as well. 

“Yeah, it’s like a quarter-for-a-few-minutes of hot water deal,” he explained. “It’s in an old log cabin up the road.”

“Aaah,” you teased, “so this isn’t real camping..”

He came to sit by your side, shoving you playfully with his shoulder. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with wantin ta stay pampered,” he let his hair out of the bun and shook it loose. You could smell the spicy shampoo from his hair, the deodorant clinging to his skin, the peppery cologne he must be wearing…He chuckled at his own playfulness

You breathed in deep. “Mmm tell me you brought some of that shampoo to share, mister Logan.” You smiled sweetly at Clyde and then looked back to the crackling fire. Another gust of wind, stronger than the others, attacked your exposed skin, causing you to shiver. Clyde noticed, getting up and walking towards his tent. How could this hot, muggy place have such freezing night time drafts?

Clyde returned with a balled up piece of clothing in his hand. “Arms up,” he demanded. You looked to him confused, raising your arms. He pulled the material out and draped it around your arms, tugging it down until your hands met the holes of a shirt. He grabbed his own shirt for you to wear...to keep you warm. You melted. It smelled just like him. Not exposed to the smell of burning wood, the shirt exuded his scent, each subtle note gracing your senses. You sighed as the shirt enveloped you, coming to your thighs. 

The heat of the fire on your shins matched the heat in your cheeks now. Clyde seemed closer than ever, yet the two of you were silent. 

“Clyde?” Your voice pierced a scared rhythm of crackling in the embers of the fire. 

“Y/n?” he replied.

“I think you’re too cool for me,” you joked, halfway believing it. 

He smiled wide, “Too cool...ain’t never heard that one before. Truth be told, i’m a little shy. And hell, maybe a little nervous.” 

“Nervous?”

“Yeah...i’m not real good at the whole...smooth talkin’ thing.” He looked from the fire to the ground. You turned to face him. 

“Smooth talkin’ thing,” you repeated. “Clyde, you don’t need to play games with people, you’re the real deal. That’s why all the women at the bar hang on your every word, why I come as often-” You stopped yourself. Don’t give too much away, damnit. Even if the moonshine is strong, you needed to at least not make yourself vulnerable. You looked to the ground, then to his prosthetic arm which was glinting in the fire. In your peripheral vision, Clyde was looking down at you with the faintest smirk. 

“Yes, miss y/n? Please continue,” he demanded.

You huffed a breath through your nose, taking a sip of the drink you had been nursing. “All i’m saying is...I can’t seem to get enough of being around you. You make this whole reassignment..I don’t know...brighter? Sweeter? You make everything as easy as breathing when I come to see you at the bar. I’m sure you get a lot of this, but it sure means a lot to me to have you around.” You weren’t sure where you pulled the courage to say all of this, but you realized you’d begun shaking from nerves. 

Clyde’s eyes contained the image of the fire reflected back to you. Of course they did. He’s the only person that’s made you feel hotter than the West Virginia sun. The only face you’ve pictured late at night when your hands dip below your panty line. The only thing giving you a glimmer of hope for happiness in this lonely town. You were only able to hold his gaze for a moment. His hair was curling at the ends from the humidity, a slight breeze sending the scent of his shampoo to your senses. 

“You must not know how much I think of you, y/n,” he began, “ever since you been comin’ to my bar for a laugh, I’ve been hangin off every word you say to me.” He looked down at his shirt wrapped around your body. “You are the highlight of my day, every time I see your pretty face gracin’ my bar. I love makin’ you your favorite drinks, watchin you sip and be happy with your girlfriend...hell, i’d do anything to make you feel happy,” he chuckled. “I honestly never thought I stood a chance with lady as beautiful as you, always comin to see me in those perfect dresses.” 

You shuddered at the thought of him noticing you in your dress, wondering what you were wearing underneath, how the fabric would feel against his skin…

“Y/n!” yelled Lauren. 

You both perked up, not realizing how close your faces had gotten in your conversation. You became acutely aware of the smoke coming your way in contrast to the scent of Clyde’s body coming closer to yours. You turned to face Lauren, walking with Jimmy’s friend. 

“Yes, Lauren?”

~

@callmehopeless​...because I LOVE annoying you with attention