#i came here for BREAKFAST and IDLE CHATTER not THIS we will talk about this in CHURCH

[todayisafridaynight]

snap u r like a priest runnin a confession booth but ppl keep catchin u on the streets and confess

i open up a nice clean handy dandy confession blog and aint no body sendin all their wack ass asks to it !!!!!

[loganwritesprobably]

I Can't Do This Anymore

Inspired by some chatting about Shanks I was doing with @fanaticsnail and @maritimebird

Content/Warnings: Shanks/GN!Reader, breaking up, arguing, hurt/no comfort, Shanks is characterised as a bad guy/ kind of toxic

Four years. Four entire years of your life dedicated to Red Haired Shanks. He was globally revered and respected, considered one of the strongest of a generation, a real contender for Pirate King as an apprentice and honorary son of Gol D. Roger. He was also a scumbag. It seemed like you were the only person who knew that, though, and frankly you were ashamed it'd taken you this long.

You'd woken up today feeling stronger than you had in ages, and when you sat for breakfast alone once again, you knew it was over. You were already gone, you'd emotionally left your partnership months ago, you'd just been hanging on for the sake of nostalgia, because of the man he'd been at first, who you'd wanted him to be. Who he hadn't been in a long time. Plus, you were finally coming up on an island and the Red Force would be docking, so you'd be able to completely leave Shanks, the ship and the crew. A clean break.

He wouldn't wake up for hours, you knew that now. No matter how many times you'd told him it would be nice to spend the morning together, to be quietly present for each other when you first woke up, he never stirred til after noon. It was because of his drinking of course, and you knew that, but he wouldn't cut back on that either. Why would he do that?

You left the kitchen before Lucky had even finished preparing breakfast with just a slice of toast in hand. You didn't feel like food this morning.

You sat on the deck with Beckman while he smoked, and you explained to him what you were about to do. He accepted it, had even seen it coming, and agreed to help you leave without Shanks clinging on or lingering on the island to try to make you come back.

When Shanks finally emerged after lunch had already been served, you headed to take a shower while Yassop and Hongo helped to pack up your stuff from Shanks' room, wanting to cause as little suspicion as possible.

Freshly washed, in the perfect outfit for the occasion which made you feel confident, you returned to the deck. Shanks sat with Beck, one smoking and the other drinking, idle chatter occasionally passing between them.

"Shanks, I need to talk to you." You said, interrupting whatever they'd been speaking about. "Sorry doll, I was just chatting with Beck, can you give me ten mi-" "No. I can't. This is more important." You said, voice firm, expression stony. "Oh c'mon just a few-" "No Shanks. Not this time. We can have this conversation here and now if you really want, I don't care, but it might be better for your ego to go somewhere more private." You said, and Benn awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, clearly wishing he was anywhere but there. "Go on then, gorgeous, what's up?" He asked, taking zero regard for your serious tone or the look on your face. Of course he didn't, nothing ruffled the feathers of Red Haired Shanks.

"You are, you overgrown child," you hissed, surprised as the words came out of your mouth, you'd been intending on separating peacefully but clearly that wasn't going to be happening, "I am sick of you, and your bullshit Shanks! This? Us? It's over, I'm done. I'm getting off at the next island, and I'm not coming back." Shanks paused, looking temporarily confused, before a smile came back over his face and it made your blood boil. "Oh c'mon, is this cause I missed breakfast? You know I try, I just don't do mornings. I'll try again tomorrow." You'd never wanted to strike someone more. "I don't know why I bothered even trying to have a conversation - I can't even have a damn argument with you! I'm fucking leaving, you cannot grin and laugh your way through or away from that. I'm leaving this ship, this crew - I'm leaving you." You couldn't stop your anger from pouring out in your words, your hands slightly trembling from the rage coursing through you. "That feels like a bit of a rush decision, love, are you sure you've really thought about that?" Shanks replied, now looking concerned for you, as if you were experiencing some sort of meltdown.

"Oh- I've never been so fucking angry. Rush? I've been planning on leaving you for months! I'm so tired of the way you treat me, Shanks. You treat me like I - and frankly like nothing else - matters! You can't just laugh and shrug all your problems away, and ignore my attempts to communicate and tell you when there's a problem in our relationship. I have dedicated four years of my life to you, and most of those years were spent being delusional and convincing myself that it wasn't that bad, and I just had to remember how could things could be. But they never went back to being that good. I'm not even sure they were that good to begin with, you just charmed me with your words." It was a lot to scream at someone in public, knowing the crew had all stopped what they were doing to listen to you, to witness what would happen when you raised your voice at the Captain like that. "There's no need to yell doll, c'mon. This should be private." You couldn't believe him. A wave of unstable, humourless laughter overcame you that you couldn't help releasing, and Benn eyed you warily. "Oh you are so lucky you're stronger than me, because if I thought I had any sort of chance, I'd attack you." You told him, still laughing just a little. It was a cruel sort of power imbalance between you really. "Is that a threat?" Shanks asked, and you pinched the bridge of your nose, the humour passing and being replaced by just.. exhaustion.

"Benn, my stuff is all packed, I'm going to go sit with it until we dock and then I'm gone." You said to the first mate before turning on your heel to walk away. "Where are you going? Are you seriously just walking away from me like that?" Shanks yelled after you, standing from his chair. "Yes! That's exactly what I just told you I was doing!" You replied, but you didn't turn to look back at him, just continued on your way.

When you docked, Shanks appeared to have disappeared. You hauled your stuff from the ship, and hugged the crew goodbye. It wasn't fair that you'd lose your friends just because you'd split with Shanks, but that was just the way of things. They were his men, not yours. You sat on top of a crate, rubbing hands over your face as you shoved down the rising tide of emotion in your chest.

"Hey," Benn said, stepping up to stand beside you, "if you ever need anything.. I mean it anything, just call." He said, handing you two pieces of paper. One piece held the number for his den den, while the other was blank - his vivre card. "Thank you." You said emphatically, and then he walked away, back to the crew.

You sat there, just observing, as the crew ran to quickly board their ship with their small restock, and undocked from the port, Shanks stood on the deck observing you.

The red force sailed away, and you heaved a deep sigh of relief. You finally felt like you could breathe again.

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

[sunshinejihyun]

Enamored || Lucien

Author’s Note: So! This is my first time writing for Lucien, and I’m only on chapter 11 of the game so I apologize if he seems out of character for him later in the game, this is just how I find him right now.

Summary: Lucien finds love in a place he never expected: the orphanage he volunteered at

Warnings: Brief mentions of familial death, mutual pining, kinda a slow burn?

Word Count: 2568

Masterlist

On your 15th birthday, your present from the world was your parents passing in a terrible accident, leaving you to live on your own. Not too long after your family left you, you got taken in by an orphanage with a kind man as an owner who raised you as he would his own child. Now, at age 22, you were doing all you could to give back to the man who helped raise you, that included continuing to live at the orphanage and donating all your extra time to giving love and attention to all the wonderful children living there now.

As you groaned from being awoken by a soft kick to your stomach, you shoved your head into the thin mattress you were sharing with a child who had taken a particular liking to you. Peony was a sweet little girl with a kind smile, but she was a restless sleeper and you always ended with various bruises from her knocking into you during the night. Taking a deep breath, you rolled out of the bed, going over to the window that overlooked the large gate that kept all of the intruders who wanted to exploit the children out. As long as you remembered, you were completely intrigued with the volunteers who showed up early in the morning on weekends and spent their time reading, teaching, or just talking to the children. Every morning that there were volunteers there, you would wake up early as well and watch as the first group of early rising children ran out to greet the people they’d grown fond of, an endearing grin adorning your face.

This morning was different though; there was a new man in line. His clothes were cleanly pressed and his calculating eyes had a smile within them that you could see from far away. You watched as he bent down in front of a little boy and said something, a soft smile on his face, before the boy jumped up and shouted before throwing his chubby arms around the tall man in a tight hug.

Anxiety bubbled in your chest as the door to the sleeping area slammed open causing you to startle and you turned away from the window, grabbing a book and trying to make yourself look busy. “Is it possible you can start waking up the rest of the kids? They’re going to be sad if they miss visiting hours today..” One of the workers grabbed a broom from the corner of the room and smiled at you as you nodded your head. “Thanks, we’ve set aside some breakfast for you in the kitchen.”

When the worker left the room, you hurriedly went around and tried to wake them up so you could catch another glimpse of the new volunteer who looked so out of place in this environment. And when you did peek out of the window, you swore that the man was looking back at you.

The glances went on for days. Every weekend he would show up bright and early, and you would watch out the window as he greeted the kids before following them inside a room. By then, you also knew that it wasn’t just your imagination. The dark haired man was looking for you -  at you -  and watching, and that brought a flutter to your heart. You knew nothing about this person; you only knew his name from the children who came back chattering excitedly about the newest science experiment he taught them.

When the weather’s a little nicer, everyone would welcome opening a window or two and maybe then you could catch some of the soft words he spoke, but only if he was close enough to a window for the wind to pick up the sound and carry it to you. Until then, you just had to watch and wonder.

The owner of the orphanage silently watched as you curiously snuck around the orphanage, trying to catch a glimpse of the man who intrigued you so and he couldn’t help but smile as he whispered in that man’s ear that there was someone inside that day, looking for someone to help make lunch to feed the children.

You also watched the owner in horror as he whispered in Lucien’s ear before he made eye contact with you through the window, nodded, and started making his way towards the entrance near where you were currently located.

“The owner said you needed some help with lunch today?” His voice came out softer than you’d heard before and your heartbeat sped up. Lucien, noting your flushed cheeks, raised his eyebrows at you before gesturing in the general way to the kitchen.

As you chopped the apples for the children, Lucien started making the sandwiches and you both made idle conversation. You learned that he was a scientist who gave lectures and was researching a top secret project. You told him about how you got taken in here at the orphanage when you had no one and now you wanted to stay and help, to pay back the owner for the years he helped raise you. The conversation never died, it was never awkward with Lucien. One thing you’d say would lead him into talking about something else and vice versa. It was easy with him.

Before you knew it, you'd both worked your way through all the meals for the children and had no reason to continue chatting in the kitchen, so Lucien left to go back to his lab, but not before leaving without your phone number, so he can receive updates on the kids while he’s away, of course.

Late one night a few weeks later, you were awoken by your phone ringing, and you quickly grabbed it to silence it before it could wake the sleeping children. Peony only had just fallen asleep and you’d curse the person on the other end if they were the reason for her awakening.

“Hello?” Your voice came out in a soft whisper and the person on the other end laughed. You knew that laugh anywhere.

“I’m in a bit of a debacle and was wondering if you would be willing to help me out?” Lucien, the always cool and composed Lucien, sounded a bit panicked on the other end.

“Anything,” you responded before facepalming. You always seemed to make a fool of yourself when it came to Lucien and you only wished he didn’t think of you as someone who was silly and immature. “How can I help?”

“I’m actually outside the gates. Any way you can let me in and we can talk face to face?” Without responding, you threw back the covers on your legs and slipped your shoes on before quietly making your way out to where Lucien was waiting.

Sure enough, there he was, looking as dark and handsome as ever and you were thankful it was dark enough outside so he wouldn’t be able to see the flush across your cheeks and neck when you approached. “Are you okay?”

Lucien sighed and as you studied his face closer in the moonlight, you noticed the dark purples under his eyes, only barely concealed by the dark rimmed glasses he was wearing. “I’ve suddenly ran into trouble and can no longer stay at my apartment.” Glancing down at you, his mouth quirked into a small smile. “Do you think you guys have room for one more orphan for a few days? Just until I get back on my feet?”

“I’m sure we can make that work.” You replied before quietly leading the professor inside.

Lucien didn’t sleep at night and you woke up earlier than the rest of the kids in the orphanage, that much you two had figured out quickly. Once Lucien arrived, you had managed to swap beds with a few kids to get two beds next to each other so you both could stay up talking into the early morning. Peony was still right next to you, of course. Between hushed whispers in the early morning, you managed to learn a lot about him and vise versa.

Lucien told you about his hopes and dreams, to become a world renowned scientist and how all he wanted to do was research to make the world a better place. Lucien told you that he had plans to make his way around the world eventually and start a new life in a new place where he could research their lifestyle and help people in need.

What he didn’t tell you was that Lucien noticed every time you would sneak a glance out the window and your face would fall. He knew you didn’t want to stay in the orphanage forever, but felt obligated to the owner. He didn’t bring it up for the first few days but after he felt more comfortable with you, his curiosity got the best of him.

“If you could do anything with your life, what would it be?” Lucien asked, his voice coming out slurred and his arm extended towards you and goosebumps rose up your arm as his long fingers brushed against your shoulder. He had closed his eyes for a few minutes after he asked you, soft snores pouring out, and when he awoke again, you weren’t next to him; you were perched on the low window, looking out longingly. You opened your mouth to protest his questioning glance and he quieted you with a look that could command an entire room. “Don’t try to tell me you’re not looking for something, I’ve seen that wistful look across your face everytime you look out that window.”

You sighed, looking out the window once more before hopping down and crawling in the covers next to Peony before turning to face Lucien. “There’s just something about the outside. From the day I saw you, I was intrigued. Just a glance at you could send my mind racing and think of the possible life I could have led. And sometimes, it feels like that life is looking for me too.”

“What do you mean?” Lucien’s eyebrows were furrowed and you grabbed his hand and held it as close to you as you could..

“I don’t know how to explain,” you replied and you shut your eyes, moving closer to Peony for warmth. Lucien had so many questions, that much was obvious. But he knew you didn’t sleep much, so he dropped them for now, before turning over and hugging himself, his eyes closing as well.

A few weeks after your conversation with Lucien, you decided it was time to go off on your own, ready to live the life you longed for. The one that laid dormant until you met someone who made you want to live.

“Where are you going to go?”

You smiled softly, adjusting Lucien’s jacket so you didn’t have to make eye contact with him. “I’ll be around. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime.”

Lucien gently grabbed your hands, forcing you to look back up at him. “I’m thinking about trying to find a new place to go, a place where I can do the type of research I want without being watched all the time. It’s not a life of luxury but....” He trailed off and you could almost hear him finish his sentence. It’s not much, but it’s better than being by yourself. Lucien twisted his mouth into a teasing smile. “I know my life is better with you around.”

And with that sentence, you found yourself agreeing before you could even think to stop yourself. You wanted to go with Lucien, continue to help people as much as possible and just be free enough to live the life you’ve only read about in books. You’d miss the children and the owner of the orphanage, of course, but you could always visit. Come back to tell stories of your adventures with Mr. Lucien. So with one last goodbye to the place you called home, you grasped Lucien’s hand and began on your new adventure together.

Three months after you left the orphanage, you couldn’t be happier. You made quick friends with the new children in the place that you and Lucien ended up in and ended up taunting them much like an older sibling would. Lucien would watch as he worked with a fond smile and every time you felt his eyes on you, you gazed back before you shared an intimate smile with the other.

Everyone who knew you also knew about your crush on the dark haired man. All the women whose children you watched as they worked liked to sit you down and beg you to ‘just tell him, MC.’ But things were going good the way they were, you and Lucien were friends and you were happy with your new lifestyle, you didn’t want to ruin that by saying something he might find stupid.

There was a quiet air about your professor one day after you two finished work for the day, walking silently back to your shared apartment. “Lucien, are you okay?”

Lucien nodded his head and you sent him a disbelieving look. “I think so. I just, uh. Some of the ladies pulled me aside today.”

Your heartbeat picked up and your mouth went dry. “Really,”

Lucien grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers. After months of knowing him, that soft touch could still turn your knees to jelly. “They told me something,” you looked at him, encouraging him to continue. “It was about you. They told me you have, y’know, a crush on me.”

You dropped your hand from his. Taking a deep breath, you looked him in his violet eyes and felt a slight bit calmer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want you to find out. It’s just like I watched you for a while and was intrigued and then when we became friends it just grew into more of a crush and-”

Lucien cut you off by putting a hand over your mouth. “Can you let me finish please?” When you nodded, he dropped his arm and grabbed your hands again. “I’m glad they told me. Do you know why?” You shook your head no and Lucien smiled at you. “Ask me why.”

You sighed, just wanting to get this over with so that you could go home and hide in your bedroom forever. “Why are you glad they told you?”

Without responding, Lucien leaned in and before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, he looked at you for visual confirmation that it was okay. Once you nodded, his slightly chapped lips met yours and before you could even relish in the taste of him, he pulled away. “It’s because I like you too.”

You felt a smile tug on your lips and Lucien’s mouth was almost mirroring yours. “Well that’s an interesting development.”

“I know a good word for how I felt the first time I saw you from the window.” Lucien said and then leaned in to kiss you once more. “Ask me what it is.”

“What was the word, Lucien?” You two probably looked like fools, standing in the middle of the street, both your hands joined with wide smiles that neither of you could wipe off your faces.

“Enamored,” Lucien responded, bringing your right hand up to his lips and kissing the top of it. “Being filled with complete love for something.”

[thedreammweaver]

That Would Suffice to Make a Formidable Monster Chapter 4 (Burton-Schumacherverse Sci-Fi Horror au, riddlebird, sea monster/alien!Oswald)

(A/N: I was supposed to be taking a break from this since I actually have thalassophobia and ‘research’ for this chapter was taking a physical toll but this has now become a hyperfixation and separation was making me depressed so...my break was brief. I’m feeling a bit better now and it was definitely worth it.)

Chapter 3 Chapter 5

Warnings: thalassophobia tw, animal death, blood tw, panic attack

Ed was still engrossed in the book by breakfast, hardly noticing the idle chatter between his crew mates. “Doin’ a little homework there Ed?” Harvey asked, referring to the book in Ed’s hands, patting him hard on the back as he passed by. Ed shook his head and ignored the other man. Bruce came into the kitchen looking a bit frustrated “I heard thumping outside, it could be nothing but something may have come loose. Who wants to go check?”

Ed grumbled as he walked the length of the sub looking for anything missing or damaged, he’d definitely drawn the short straw. He felt chills go up his spine as he noticed bubbles coming from part of his suit helmet. “Hey, Bruce?” He asked. Bruce was inside watching scanners and whatnot and by the radio.

“Yeah?”

“There’s bubbles coming out of my hose here, am I okay?”

“Oh- yeah, I think you’re just dealing with a faulty valve. I’ll fix it once you’re inside, your air is fine don’t worry. Just don’t breathe too hard, it’ll fog your mask up.” Reassured by the knowledge he wasn’t going to drown Ed reached the front of the sub, he scanned around looking for something off but couldn’t find anything. He rolled his eyes and started back. The sub was about 360 feet long with a few doors placed on the outside, the closest one was seventy feet from him. As he slowly made progress back towards the opening he’d come out through he found his mind drifting to the impenetrable darkness all around him.

“Ed, I have your vitals pulled up, what’s going on with your heart rate?” Bruce asked.

“I’m just freaking out a little here.” Ed chuckled nervously “Could you stay on for a bit and talk to me so I can’t...think.”

“Sure.”

“How are things with you and Selina?”

Bruce got a little flustered but obliged “Good- They’re um- they’re good, we’re getting to spend more time together than we have in months, that’s for sure. Not a lot of good dating spots down here though.” He laughed. Ed felt a little calmer, now just fifty eight feet from the door.

“Did she ever tell you how I proposed that was a very hectic-“ Bruce suddenly fell silent “Ed, stop for a second.” His tone had switched to dead serious so Ed did as he asked. “Not to sound cryptic but you’re not alone out there. Something big just came into the scanner, about forty feet long. It should be above you.” The scanner picked up everything within 200 feet so Ed could guess that was roughly how far away it was “Just keep your head down and take your time, I’d be willing to bet it’s only a sperm whale or something like that.”

“Kinda deep for a sperm whale...” Pamela mumbled, she wasn’t close enough to the radio for Ed to hear.

Ed felt nervous but kept moving as Bruce suggested. If he’d been on land he could’ve easily sprinted but of course humans were so terribly adapted for the water and he could only go so fast. Harvey came over having heard the scanner beeping since something large was in range. Bruce’s brow furrowed as the longer the animal stayed in one place the clearer the shape on the scanner became, it went from a a forty foot blob to a shape more triangular, the end of it splitting up and forking out in many directions, Bruce’s heart dropped as he and Harvey reached the same realization simultaneously “Jesus Christ, is that a fucking squid??” Unfortunately Harvey was close enough for Ed to hear him loud and clear. Ed immediately remembered the comment about his book at breakfast “Oh, that’s really hilarious, Harvey.” Ed shook his head, the corners of his mouth turning up in annoyance “Has anyone told you you’d make a great comedian? I’d guess not since you’re really not that-“ Ed out of reflex had looked up, the light on his helmet at full brightness since he’d been looking for damaged or possibly fallen equipment, expecting to see nothing or at the least the underbelly of a whale but instead he faintly saw suckers as big as frisbees about 160 feet above him “...funny..” he absently completely his sentence, most parts of his mind now on autopilot. He quickly put his head down and dimmed his light, hoping the thing didn’t see him. Without realizing he had come to a stop at fifty two feet from the door back into the sub. “Forget everything I said about taking your time, get back in here now.” Bruce said. Ed felt himself beginning to panic, trying to keep his breathing calm as he couldn’t afford to loose visibility now. He went as fast as he could despite everything in him wanting to curl into a ball. “It’s coming towards the ship now,” Bruce said “It’s eighty feet and closing, get the hell out of there.”

If Ed had the presence of mind he would snap at Bruce for assuming he was trying to do anything but get back to the door.

“Sixty feet-“

Ed felt himself freezing up “Bruce, I can’t do this.”

“Don’t say that. Forty feet-“

“It’s closer to the door than I am! I ca-“ Ed was cut off by something huge swooping by the ship very fast causing a current that made the ship move and sent Ed flying. He was relieved as he remembered he’d tethered himself to the ship earlier, Harvey chiding him for being paranoid, but the relief was short lived as he felt the tether snap and himself continue to spin away from the sub. He tried desperately to reorient himself or grab onto something but it was of course no use and so commenced the desperate clawing and pathetic wiggling of a human quite literally far out of their depth. When he finally came to an almost stop he noticed at some point during his spinning his glasses had come off and he couldn’t get them back on without taking his helmet off which wasn’t an option. Realizing he was stranded and unable to see made him panic, unable to keep from fully hyperventilating now and clouding his mask, obscuring his vision further. Not that he’d be able to see with the pitch black around him on all sides. Just as he’d begun to imagine what drowning would be like for him he felt something brush against his back and then start pushing against him. That’s it, he thought, he was dead, he was about to be eaten. But the thing behind him just kept pushing, he could only assume it was taking him somewhere to be eaten. Though soon he could make out the lights of the ship and felt himself being pushed onto it, then he wasn’t being touched anymore. After gathering himself for a moment he started feeling around for the door. The lights kept catching something red in the water around him which he couldn’t make out. As he felt around he jumped back a bit when his hand landed on a tentacle against the ship in front of him. There was more red around it. As he cautiously inspected further he discovered the tentacle....wasn’t attached to anything. He shakily stepped over it and felt like he’d gone from the deepest layer of hell to paradise as he finally felt the door of the sub.

“Just leave him alone for a while, Dent.” Bruce ordered, barring Harvey from entering Ed’s small sleeping quarters.

“He has to tell me what happened out there.” Harvey insisted.

“He’s in shock. He shouldn’t be made to recount anything too soon.” Victor insisted.

“Oh what are you now, a psychologist? Whatever, I’ll ask him later...” Harvey huffed before walking away. Ed was curled up in bed, having not spoken for the last hour. Bruce walked away as well but Victor came in “Try to get some rest, Ed. You’re okay now.” He said softly before leaving. Somehow Ed managed to sleep.

About forty five minutes later Ed stirred awake to vibrations shaking the ship a bit, he was going to brush it off and return to sleep but he soon recognized it as the same vibrations they’d felt when Oswald was first trying to make contact. He yawned as he crawled out of bed and grabbed his glasses before making his way to the main room of the sub.

Victor was at the computers once more and everyone else was sort of hovering around him. “Did I miss anything?” Ed asked.

“No,” Victor assured “It is just greeting us again.”

Harvey wanted to take control of the conversation this time “I need to know about it’s species, where are the rest of them, are they aquatic, that kind of stuff.”

‘Are there others like you?’ Victor typed.

‘Nothing is like me.’

‘Where is your species?’

‘I do not know. They left me.’

Pam frowned, feeling sorry for the creature again.

‘Does your species usually inhabit water?’

There was a delay, like a pause someone would take if they were being flooded with painful memories.

‘I evolved.’

“So basically it’s a freak.” Harvey said flatly, that was met with glares from the rest. “Oh, don’t be so sensitive. What I want to know is if it has met humans before how do we have no record of an enormous monster?”

Victor rolled his eyes, as he typed, Harvey was definitely dampening the wonder of this experience.

‘You have met entities like us before?’

‘Yes.’

‘You’re quite big, yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘Entities like to keep record of big things, why is there no record of you?’

‘Wasn’t big then. Had only witnessed five turns of this rock and one equivalent off of it.’

Ed puzzled “Five turns...I think it means years.”

“So it was left here when it was only one?” Pam had a very sad tone to her voice as she absently pulled at the slightly too long sleeves of the green sweater she was in.

‘No more askings from entities.’

That made Harvey start fuming “Yeah, right, ask it-“

“Chill out,” Bruce ordered “You already have more information than you did a few minutes ago, give it a break.”

“Who are you to interfere with my operation?”

“Your operation which is being facilitated by my ship...” Bruce reminded. Harvey glared at him before storming out, knowing he couldn’t really argue.

Another message appeared on the screen that floored Ed.

‘Lost entity is safe now? I brought it back.’

“It saved me on purpose...” Ed mumbled, he’d though maybe the squid had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and gotten eaten by something and...he had been blocking out the part where a mysterious force pushed him back.

‘Yes, entity is safe now. Thank you.’ Victor typed, marveling at the care and apparent gentleness Oswald possessed. There was another delay.

‘You help me now?’

‘What is the matter?’

‘Hurts.’

The medical doctor in Victor was now seeing Oswald as a potential patient which was surreal. Pamela cleared her throat “It might’ve been injured while attacking the oil rig or by another predator, I doubt they appreciate suddenly being demoted and their whole ecosystem changing. Some of them might be trying to fight back. I’d be willing to bet a lot of wild life has been out of sorts since the cave opened.” She said, going to look out the front window.

‘How were you hurt?’

‘Sharp whale.’

“What the hell is a sharp whale?” Selina muttered.

“Shark.” Pam said.

“Yeah, it probably means a shark.” Bruce nodded.

“...Shark...” Pamela squeaked once more.

“Yes, Pam, we heard y-“ Bruce stopped as he turned to look at Pamela and in turn followed her gaze out the window. Barreling towards them was a shark that had to be at least a hundred feet long, jaws open. “Oh..” was all Bruce could say before there were teeth colliding with the ship.

[bexterbex]

A Soul To Mend His Own | Ch. 39

[Gif by @cloudyfacewithjam​]

Warning, if it hasn’t been obvious in the movies there is Nazi symbolism within the First Order. I will expand on this much more throughout the story. If this is something that bothers you, please just exit the story. The author does not condone any Nazi ideals, this is just for fictional uses only.

A Kylo Ren x Modern! Reader in a soulmate au with some canon divergence. —————————————SLOWBURN————————————–

He is already the Supreme leader, searching the universe to find you, his Empress. Your name on his wrist has been the only constant in his life, while you have doubts about his existence and his acceptance of you. He isn’t in the database and why did the name Kylo Ren cover Ben Solo?

MASTERLIST

Chapter 39: No But They Can Try

You finished breakfast and bid the lieutenant a good day, sending him off to go get rest. You turned to the general. “So what is it that we are learning today?”

The general was over on one of the walls preparing a giant screen that you didn’t know existed. “It has been requested by the Supreme Leader that you take some finishing lessons.”

“Finishing lessons?”

He successfully brought a video to the screen. “Yes, along with your diplomacy lessons the Supreme Leader has requested that you take finishing lessons or etiquette lessons. You are to be a refined lady, an empress. He has made it clear that you are to succeed in the areas he does not.”

He started the video or lack of video as it seemed to be an audiobook.  

Ch. 1: What is Best Society?

Ch. 2: Introductions

Ch. 3: Greetings 10 min

Ch. 4: Salutations of Courtesy

Ch. 5: On the Street and in Public

There wasn’t much discussion as he had talked about with the lieutenant. You both just sat back and listened, rather you listened and he worked on his data pad. After the fifth chapter, you had enough of listening to rules of etiquette, so you decided to strike up a conversation in hopes of ending the lesson.

“Why is it that I am learning this and you are working on something else?”

“Because I am not going to become a lady. That is your job, my job is to make sure that you are learning what you are learning. I am currently working on my other job of running the First Order. Just because the Supreme Leader has assigned me to be in charge of your care and your lessons does not mean any of my other duties have ceased.” He still failed to look up from his data pad.

“I thought the Supreme Leader ran the First Order?” You were digging for something.

The data pad hit the redhead’s lap in frustration, but before the words you suspected that he wanted to say came out of his mouth he answered, “of course the Supreme Leader does, but there are many, many duties he cannot do himself and so he leaves them in the very capable hands of others.”

“I sense some hostility in you general. You don’t have to keep it from me that you wished he would do more or that you did less.” You were looking at the man rather pointedly.

“The Supreme Leader and I knew each other before he became the Supreme Leader. At that time we were both competing for the previous Supreme Leader’s good graces. Ones that he never really gave out. And then the Supreme Leader usurped him. I was afraid that because of our past grievances that he would just put me out, but he looked past that and saw the greater good I could do for the First Order. He gets the glorious title of Supreme Leader and the ability to supersede anyone that questions him, but I get to make the First Order into a legacy that outshines the Empire.”

The man sitting next to you loved what he was doing. Married to his duty. Has the love of creating a great empire of his own.

“I’m sure he’s thankful, even if it just means he doesn’t have to do all of the paperwork. In my lessons of the Empire, Vader and Tarkin had a similar relationship. Maybe not as vicious as your relationship has been, but a parallel none the less. I am thankful, from what I have seen from the Supreme Leader, he is much more an intimidation tool than he is a leader.” You were being honest with the man, after all he really has only kept things from you because of Kylo’s orders.

“That he is. He is very effective in leading Stormtroopers. They gladly follow him into battle. And not just because he will kill them, but because the enemy focuses on him, and it is almost a guaranteed win if he is with them. You saw him in training, but seeing him on the battlefield is something else entirely. He becomes the human embodiment of rage and destruction. Which unfortunately can transfer back to damages on board the ship.”

“Is this what you meant by needing to ‘brace ourselves’? I understand that he is quick to anger but isn’t there something that we can do about it?”

“If I knew the answer to that m’lady I would be the richest man in the galaxy. Yes, that is partially the reason why I said it. The other reason is that any time an issue is about you, before or after he met you he becomes even more unstable, more unpredictable. I may have known him for years but I have no idea what he will be like when he gets here.”

“I see, so are you suggesting that I should be scared?”

“No, m’lady just prepared.”

“Prepared for what? You just called him unstable and unpredictable.”

“Prepared for the unexpected, occasionally and I mean rarely he surprises me. The last few times that has happened it has been about you. So just be prepared for anything.”

You didn’t know whether to find his words comforting or horrifying. You could already see that Kylo was unstable. You glanced down at your wrist, to the faded Ben Solo. You wondered if the unstableness was Kylo or Kylo’s struggle with Ben. You had seen him almost kill a man who spoke and thought ill of you. What would he do this time because you did it to yourself, accidentally but to yourself?

“I believe it is time for lunch,” said the general.

You then went about ordering and eating lunch in the dining room, not really talking about anything in particular but just light conversation. He then escorted you down the halls to the large conference room that you usually met in for your lessons. This time the room was filled with generals and admirals and holograms of generals and admirals. You took a seat next to Hux, who was sitting across the table from Pryde. Phasma was on guard in the corner of the room in her silver armored glory. You wondered when would be the best time to apologize.

“As you all know the Supreme Leader will be here in a matter of minutes. He will give us the rundown on his mission, and maybe his next plans. He is currently not in the best of moods so brace yourselves. Everyone,” said Hux.

The room went about idle chatter for a few moments before you heard loud footsteps coming down the hall, and some screaming too. If the door had hinges you would have guessed that it would have slammed open. He stalked in with the Knights of Ren filling in the back of the room along with Commander Pyre.

You saw Ap’lek eye Phasma up and down with hostility, almost assessing whether or not he could take here out now. But he then turned to face the Kylo on the other side of the room. You could see Phasma’s body language change, she was now ready for an attack.

Your attention quickly shifted to Kylo, who seemed to refrain himself from slamming his palms on the table, but just barely. His clothes were slightly singed in various places, he and the knights seemed to have some light mud on them as well. They look as if they have come straight off the battlefield, Pyre even had scuffs on his gold armor.

“Skywalker is dead.”

There was malice in his voice. You could sense the anger and hostility that radiated off of him in dark waves. His own personal storm cloud.

The other generals and admirals around you lifted their heads in what seemed to be acknowledgment and relief.

A balding general whom you have never seen before spoke up, “And what of the scavenger?”

In an instant, he was on the ceiling choking. His chair had been thrown back and clattered to the ground. He was crying out, gasping for air.

Kylo’s head turned quickly to you, assessing you. He moved swiftly from the front of the room and grabbed you by the arm pulling you up and out of the room. He was grabbing your arm so tightly you were sure that it was going to bruise. He did not stop until you were both in your chambers.

You were scared.

“I have half a mind to kill her.” The helmet was still on.

You were confused, “to kill who.”

“Phasma, you were under her care and she let it happen.” He then abruptly took the helmet on and backed you into a corner. “Why did you do it? Are you that unhappy with me?” His voice was still laced and stitched with anger.

You were frozen in fear.

His eyes were almost black. You could literally feel the anger that was radiating off of him in the electricity in the air. Or was it the Force that you were feeling?

His hand slammed into the wall next to you. “Answer me!” He was yelling, his voice dripping with fury and rage.

You thought you were going to die.

His other hand hooked itself under your chin and yanked your face upwards while he stood over you menacingly.

No, you knew you were going to die.

You trembled out, “It was an accident, I didn’t mean to.” Your voice barely a whisper. Your eyes were wide in fear.

“What do you mean it was an accident? How could it have been an accident?” He was still yelling.

“I wanted them to stop.”

“What to stop?” He was a tiny bit calmer.

“The lights.”

“What lights.”

“The lights I saw every time I closed my eyes since you have been gone.”

His face shifted slightly, you could see the concern start to brew in the cauldron of his eyes. “What did these lights look like?”

“They were red and blue and they were fighting. Every time I closed my eyes I could see them.”

The hand that was under your chin shifted to caress the side of your face. “Tell me more.”

“There was also an ocean, I don’t know where it was but it was big. I haven’t been able to really sleep since you have been gone.”

“All you wanted was for them to stop, and you didn’t realize what was happening?”

“Yes, and Phasma saved me. I had ordered her to stay away from me. I wanted to be alone.”

The hand then shifted down to your neck. It rested there. “Why did you want to be alone?”

“I feel like a songbird in a cage here. People constantly telling me what to do, say and think. I am watched 24/7. You give them orders to tell me, without telling me anything. I wanted to be free, if only for a few minutes.”

The hand shifted back up to your face, his thumb ran over your lips. “You are a beautiful songbird Kitten.” He then drew you in and kissed you. You missed this, oh how you missed this.

When you broke apart, “but kisses won’t fix this.”

“No, but they can try.” He leaned back in to kiss you. Pushing you into the wall, eventually, his kisses started to roam down to your neck, “no, but they can try.”

[mdzsgildedfate]

Gilded Fate - Chapter 9

Reincarnation AU [Chapter 9/?] Characters: Xue Yang, Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan, Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, Jin Ling, Original Characters. Pairings: Xue Yang/Xiao Xingchen, Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen, Lan Sizhui/Lan Jingyi, Xue Yang/OC

Is it morning already…? I need to make breakfast…

But Xingchen feels so warm… I don’t want to get up…

How late is it?

A-Qing will complain…

Xinyi opened his eyes slowly, confused to find that the room he was in was not the coffin house, and that the person he was draped over was not Xiao Xingchen. Blinking a few times, the dream quickly disappeared from his mind and he remembered where he was. Careful not to wake Chen, Xinyi slipped out from under the covers and crawled across the room to look for his robes. After looking through his pile of clothes two or three times, he finally remembered his own robes were still in Xiao Xingchen’s room.

Pulling the borrowed grey robes back on, Xinyi stepped out of the room and headed towards the courtyard. The memory of last night was muddled, the details refusing to return no matter how hard Xinyi tried. He couldn’t remember whether or not he was the one to initiate the kiss with Chen. The only thing he could remember clearly was the face of the mutilated ghost who’d chased him into Chen’s arms to begin with.

“I must really be out of my mind.” Xinyi muttered to himself, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “What am I supposed to say to him? He’s gonna hate me no matter what.”

Although it had slowed to a lazy drizzle, the rain from last night still hadn’t stopped. In the blue dawn light, only one figure could be seen standing out in the courtyard. Smiling Ghost paced slowly around the wet stonework, seeming to follow no particular path. Xinyi watched her for a few minutes, mesmerized by her aimless wandering and how her robes billowed around as though she were underwater.

Not wanting to wait around too long and risk her noticing him, Xinyi turned around and headed back into the temple. Going back to his room and facing Chen was equally unappealing, so he let his feet lead him up and down random hallways with no direction in mind. Not long into his walk, he halted at the sound of hushed, urgent voices coming from around the next corner.

“Did you find him?”

“No, he’s not in the kitchen either. Did you find Xiao Xingchen?”

“He doesn’t know where he is either.”

“So he’s definitely not in the temple then? Why would he leave without saying anything?”

Xinyi inched along the wall to the corner and peaked around, spotting Sizhui and Jingyi a few yards down.

“I’m sure it’s fine. He probably just needs a break from being around Xinyi so much.”

A break from being around me?

“You’re probably right. Jin Ling seemed so concerned about it, though.”

“Jin Ling always sounds like that. Xingchen wasn’t worried, so I don’t think we should be.”

Xinyi turned around and left the conversation behind. Nothing else made sense since arriving at the temple, he wasn’t about to let one weird comment detract from the most important thing- Song Lan wasn’t around to glare at him. If little victories were all he got now, Xinyi would take them when they came.

During breakfast, Chen had the good sense not to bring up the events of the previous night. They ate together quietly, as though nothing unusual had happened. Even as the idle chatter started to pick up, Chen spoke with a relaxed smile and a calm demeanour. Xinyi was starting to feel at ease, not even finding the will to care when Song Lan did finally enter the room. The dark robes drifted by his peripheral, but he didn’t bother to even glance over.

Xinyi’s attention drifted around the room, pausing to listen to various conversations or watch as students mingled around. As his eyes scanned over the professors at the head of the table, he noticed how none of the apprehension from earlier had dissipated from their demeanours. Only then did he realize the figure he’d assumed was Song Lan had never actually sat down.

Finally looking directly at the figure, he could see the black robes didn’t belong to Song Lan, but to a woman with kind features, lined softly with age and weariness. A small smile appeared on her face when he looked at her, though her eyes seemed full of sadness. While the other ghosts Xinyi had seen up until now filled him with some looming dread, he felt a strange sense of relief and familiarity at her presence.

The woman held his gaze, and her sad smile, for a few heartbeats before slowly trailing around the edge of the room. At the door, she paused and looked at him again as though beckoning him to follow. Xinyi looked around and quietly excused himself from the table, following her out into the hall. She walked a good distance from the dining hall before stopping to wait for him, partially hidden in the shadows.

Xinyi approached slowly, unsure of what to expect. “Wh-... Who are you?”

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Never before had he directly addressed any of the other ghosts like this. It felt completely counterintuitive, but the compulsion to talk to her was overwhelming.

She sighed softly, looking him over. “A-Yang…”

The sound of her voice sent a chill throughout his entire body. “M-Mom…?”

How was that possible? His mom was a pale woman with chin-length, brown hair and sharp features. The woman in front of him had dark skin and long, black hair. Her features were soft and inviting and downright motherly. Most importantly, his mom was very much not dead.

“Oh, A-Yang…” The woman took a step forward, reaching her hand out to him. “My son…”

Xinyi mirrored her movements, stepping closer with one outstretched hand. “Mom…”

The tips of their fingers touched and Xinyi recoiled slightly, surprised to find that the woman had a solid form. Nothing about her indicated that she was a ghost- She bore no injuries, her skin had colour to it, and her touch was tangible and warm. With both of their hands now clasped together, tears spilled out over her cheeks and dripped from her chin.

“A-Yang… How long I’ve waited to see you…” Her shoulders shook gently.

Xinyi’s breath hitched in his chest and tears stung in his eyes. Consciously, he knew this woman was a stranger, but every fiber of his being was screaming that this was his mother, without a shadow of doubt. When she lifted a hand to his cheek, he leaned into the touch with a stuttered breath. Feeling no longer in control of his own actions. Xinyi wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her neck.

The woman didn’t hesitant to hug him back, holding him tight against her. “Oh, my dear. My A-Yang… What luck I had as a mother…”

His heart skipped painfully and tears broke out as he spoke. “I missed you...”

She pulled back just enough to look at his face, the smile having disappeared from her face. “What sin did I commit to have such a wicked child?”

“Wh-what?”

She stroked a hand over his hair, smoothing out the flyaway strands. “How was I ever supposed to love a son like you?”

“What do you mean-? I don’t understand… I-”

“If I had known how you’d turn out…” She pulled away from him, sorrow overtaking her expression. “...I would have drowned you in a river as soon as you were born.”

The comments made no sense to him- this ghost made no sense to him- but that didn’t stop the feeling that his soul was being ripped from his body. Sobs racking his body, Xinyi reached out desperately, only for his hand to now pass right through her. The more he cried out apologies and begged her to stay, the more transparent her form became. When she disappeared completely, he fell to his knees, crumpled over himself on the floor. After a few minutes, the feeling suddenly disappeared.

As though the ghostly encounter had never happened, Xinyi wiped the tears from his face and stood up. Looking up and down the hall, he was relieved to see no one else had come out of the dining hall. Before that had a chance to happen, Xinyi hurried down the hall out to the courtyard to cool off. The second he was outside, the sweat on his body instantly turned to ice against his skin. He took a deep breath of the cool air and scrubbed at his face with his sleeve, trying to make sense of what just happened.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Xinyi turned around to see Xiao Xingchen standing a ways back. “Hilarious.”

Xingchen smiled, a small chuckle shaking his shoulders. “Do you want your clothes back? Or will you wear those again?”

He followed the man back to his room, trying to memorize the route this time. Once they were back, Xingchen opened his trunk again to retrieve the robes and handed them back. On top of the neatly folded pile was some golden trinket that shined under the light from the window.

“What’s this?” He asked, holding it up to inspect it.

“A gift.” Xingchen replied, watching him carefully. “Since you gave me one, I thought it’d be appropriate if I returned the favour.”

Setting the pile down on the bed, Xinyi slipped out of the borrowed robes. “You didn’t need to, you know, and this… looks expensive.”

Xingchen helped him back into the white uniform, tying the robes in place with expert hands. “It’s not. Besides, your hair is always falling out, you need something to hold it in place.”

Xinyi laughed, turning around to face Xingchen with the trinket in his hand. “Right, for the last two days I’m here?”

The man laughed and reached up to fix Xinyi’s hair. “I wanted to give it to you sooner... “

Once his hair was tied back in place, Xingchen took the ornament and fixed it to the top of Xinyi’s head. Stepping back to examine his work, his expression faltered for a moment, as though he wasn’t entirely satisfied with what he was looking at. After a moment, he swallowed and looked away, letting the smile return to his face.

“Xiao Xingchen.”

He looked back up, not quite meeting Xinyi’s eyes.

“Tell me honestly...You know what’s happening to me, don’t you?” Xinyi stepped forward, cocking his head to try to catch Xingchen’s gaze. “You said before, the ghosts I’m seeing are attached to the objects here. Is that true? Will I stop seeing them when I leave?”

Xingchen was quiet for a moment, seeming hesitant to answer Xinyi’s questions. “That’s a difficult line of questioning to answer.”

Xinyi frowned and grabbed Xingchen’s hand. “You do know the answers though.”

“Yes.”

“But you won’t tell me…”

Xingchen took Xinyi’s other hand and sighed quietly. “No… I don’t think I should be the one to tell you… I don’t think I should even be around when it happens.”

Xinyi stepped forward and put his forehead against the man’s shoulder, letting his eyes slide shut. He felt Xingchen let go of his hands, quickly wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. No matter how badly he wanted to keep pressing the man with questions, he knew there was no point. He held on for a moment longer, letting himself simply enjoy Xingchen’s warmth, before moving to pull away.

Only managing to move a few inches back, Xingchen’s grasp tightened, holding him in place. He met Xinyi’s eyes finally, looking at him with a strange intensity.

“I’m sorry.” He said after a long pause.

Xinyi shook his head. “It’s fine…”

Xingchen pressed his forehead to Xinyi’s, lingering as though he was considering saying something more, before placing a soft kiss against his lips. Unlike the kiss in the river, this one wasn’t quickly cut short. Xingchen paused, momentarily hesitating, and then pressed in again with a sharp inhale. Xinyi clenched his hands around the fabric of Xingchen’s clothes, refusing to let go of him this time.

The knowledge that they’d only met a few days prior completely melted from Xinyi’s mind. Something about the kiss felt achingly familiar and sorely missed. Before he knew it, Xinyi had one arm wrapped tight around Xingchen’s shoulders and the other hand tangled in his hair. Both of Xingchen’s arms were wrapped around Xinyi’s waist, with one hand between his shoulder blades and the other at the very bottom of his lower back. The intense line of questioning from only seconds ago was quickly lost in a heat of heavy breathing and wandering hands.

Locked against each other, Xinyi stumbled back, losing his balance and bringing them both down against the bed. Xingchen broke away and stared down at Xinyi breathlessly, half-kneeling half-laying on top of him. Bringing one knee up, Xinyi pushed his thigh up between Xingchen’s legs and pulled on the collar of his robes, trying to urge the man back into the kiss. Xingchen’s eyes fluttered momentarily before he let out a breath and pulled away completely to stand up.

“Xingchen?” Xinyi questioned, unable to hide the disappointment on his face.

The man turned away, flattening out his robes. “I’m sorry. We… We shouldn’t be doing that.”

He stood back up, feeling a twinge of frustration. “What do you mean, you kissed me.”

“I know.” Xingchen looked down at the floor, a strange expression on his face. “I’m sorry, but I shouldn’t have.”

Frustration turned to hurt. Xinyi balled his hands into fists, feeling his nails cut into his palms.

“Why do you keep doing this to me?” He snapped out suddenly, feeling his eyes sting again. “You keep acting like you like me- like you care about me, but-... but why? Watching me struggle like this- Is this fun for you?!”

Xingchen gaped at him, shocked. “I-... Xinyi, that’s not-...”

“Forget it.”

Without another word, he walked out of the room and disappeared down the hall. Quickly retracing his steps, Xinyi went back to his room and threw himself down on his bed, covering his head with his pillow. It was a long time before anyone else came into the room, breaking the silence that had enveloped him. When he felt someone lay down beside him, Xinyi scrunched the pillow down harder, assuming Xingchen had followed him.

When the person didn’t say anything, he lifted the pillow up just enough to see Chen’s face staring back at him.

“You ok?” Chen asked softly, looking him over.

“I’m fine.” Xinyi replied, relaxing his grip on the pillow.

Chen pushed the pillow off him and held a hand against Xinyi’s forehead. “You’re really warm.”

“Is that your version of flirting?”

He took his hand back, looking a little guilty. “N-No… Sorry, that’s not- I just meant that you look sick.”

Xinyi put his own hand to his face, feeling a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Mm. It’s probably just a cold from being in the river so much. It’s fine.”

Chen frowned. “Maybe… Sizhui Jiaoshou sent me to come get you, we’re supposed to go on some day hike around the mountain… But if you’re sick, you should stay here and rest.”

“I feel fine.” He sat up, shaking his head. “I don’t wanna stay here by myself.”

Ignoring Chen’s protests, Xinyi stood up and brushed himself off, flattening down his robes. Once Chen was on his feet too, he led the way out to where everyone else was waiting in the courtyard. Quickly catching up to QianHua, he gave Sizhui a wave and fell in with the rest of the group. Sizhui and Jingyi took up the head of the group and led them away from the temple, following the river path south, deeper into the valley.

“What’s up with the fancy jewelry?” QianHua asked as soon as they started walking.

“Jewelry?” Xinyi gave him a confused look.

“Yeah, that!” QianHua reached up and tapped on the ornament in his hair.

“Oh, right.” With his emotions running high, he’d completely forgotten about Xingchen’s gift. “Xingchen lent it to me when I went to get my clothes back from him. He said my hair kept falling out without it.”

“You too sure seem to be sharing a lot of clothes lately.” The other man joked, winking at Xinyi.

Xinyi rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the trail, not wanting to think about Xingchen right now. Everyone else quickly fell silent as well as they trekked on down the path, too out of breath from the incline to chatter amongst themselves. By the time they stopped for their first break, the beaten path had long since disappeared, leaving them to rest wherever they could find space. All at once, there were students scattered across the ground, seated on rocks and leaning against trees.

Slumped with his back against Chen’s shoulder, Xinyi scanned his eyes over the group as he unscrewed the top of his water bottle. He took a few gulps, replaced the lid, and wiped a layer of sweat from his face.

Maybe I really am getting sick...

Huh, Song Lan isn’t here…? Did he still not come back…?

...No ghosts out here so far...

Maybe they really will disappear when I leave…

Xinyi thought about it for a minute and then frowned.

If that were true, Xingchen would have just said so.

Frustration was itching throughout his entire body, like ants under his skin. Xingchen had always been a little mysterious, but to outright refuse to tell him pertinent information about what was plaguing him... Xinyi shook his head and stood up, handing his water bottle to Chen.

“I’ll be right back.”

Chen started to stand, but Xinyi waved his hand at him.

“I don’t need help to take a piss.”

“Oh. Fair enough. Just be careful.”

Well past the point of which Xinyi stopped hearing the voices from the group, he continued down the gentle slope into the thicket of bushes. Whispers had begun picking up around him, albeit quiet enough that he hadn’t noticed them at first, but persistent enough to trigger a trill of anxiety. Finishing his business quickly, Xinyi turned to head back, coming to a stop almost immediately.

Circling around a cluster of trees, Smiling Ghost came into view a few yards up the hill. She looked at him curiously, her usual smile barely a whisper on her lips now. Xinyi stared back at her, feeling all the frustration of the day resurge. Contrary to his usual instinct when it came to dealing with the ghosts, Xinyi balled up his fists and walked right up to her.

“What do you want from me??” He snapped, struggling to keep from yelling. “You’re always following me around but you never say shit! Just get it over with already! Accuse me of killing you! Call me a monster! Just say something and quit following me around!”

She frowned and let her eyes lower to the ground.

“Everyone has so much to say, but no one has the balls to actually say it to my face. Is that gonna be you too?” Xinyi took another step closer. “Tell me why you’re here!”

Slowly bringing her gaze back up, she looked at Xinyi and silently mouthed something. His eyes widened, surprised that she actually responded to him. Tentatively, Xinyi reached a hand up and brushed his fingers against the fabric of her sleeve, curious to see if they’d pass through her or hit a solid form. When they did indeed pass through her, he recoiled his hand and looked back up at her face.

“Who are you?”

A small smile returned to her face.

“Say something!”

Her lips moved again, still no sound coming forth. He narrowed his eyes, watching carefully, trying to decipher what she was saying. Before he had a chance to ask anything else, the sound of leaves crunching rang out behind him. Smiling Ghost looked past him, looking equally alarmed, and vanished. With a string of curses, Xinyi spun around to see what had disrupted his interrogation.

Surprised to see a human figure moving between the trees, a sudden sense of fear fell over him. Quickly ducking out of sight, Xinyi peeked out just enough to see what was happening. The forest fell quiet and still, anxious anticipation pounding in his ears the longer it went on, before MingYue and her husky suddenly came out from a tangle of vines and fallen branches. He held his breath and watched on as she walked past his hiding spot, back up the hill towards where the rest of the class was resting.

Once Xinyi was sure she was far enough away, he let out the breath and stood up. A hundred questions had appeared in his brain, urging him to inspect the area MingYue had appeared. With that dog with her, why hadn’t he heard them coming? Why had Smiling Ghost seemed so alarmed? Why did the air suddenly smell like smoke? The rest of the area looked completely undisturbed, as though MingYue had really materialized out of thin air.

Xinyi paused, putting a halt to the onslaught of questions. Why should I care about this?

Is this really the weirdest thing going on here?

Fuck this. I’m not wasting time on this.

Quickly making up his mind, Xinyi retraced his steps up the hill and returned to the group. Everyone else was already on their feet, idling about as they waited for Sizhui to lead them forward. Chen and QianHua met him with a relieved look, as though they were worried he wouldn’t make it back before they left. He wiped a layer of sweat from his face and fell into step beside them, letting the swirl of thoughts dissipate from his brain.

The hike carried on through the valley, pausing one more time before they reached a pond where the river came to an end. Sizhui and Jingyi announced a lunch break and everyone broke into joyful chatter, instantly making themselves at home around the water. Before long, half of the students had shed the outer layers of their robes and plunged into the pool. QianHua and Chen followed suit, dragging Xinyi along behind them.

They all stripped down and, with a moment of consideration, Xinyi removed the ornament from his hair, dropping it unceremoniously into the pile of robes on the ground. He waded around the shore to sit on a rock jutting out from the pond, letting just the bottom half of his legs hang in the water. Chen came to sit beside him, abandoning QianHua to rough-house with another group in deeper waters.

“Are you feeling ok?” Chen asked quietly, putting the back of his hand to Xinyi’s forehead again.

“I’ll be fine. I am starting to get tired, though.” He replied, closing his eyes at the touch.

Chen smiled and ran his hand over Xinyi’s hair, tussling out the parts still holding together from the ornament. Xinyi matched the smile, grateful for the moment of normalcy. Xiao Xingchen was mysterious and exciting, but after everything that had happened the past few days, Xinyi was glad to be with something who made the ghosts feel less real.

~X~

Even though Xingchen had seemed unbothered by Song Lan’s sudden disappearance. Jin Ling couldn’t shake the anxiety festering in his gut. It very well may be normal for the man to wander away from the temple, but with the presence of demonic cultivation in the valley, he was becoming increasingly worried for the two fierce corpses. The only small relief he got was when MingYue returned from walking Gongzhu and could see that his spiritual dog was still at ease.

As the group settled down for lunch, Jin Ling allowed himself a brief moment to forget his worries. With Gongzhu napping in a patch of sunlight, and MingYue leaning on his shoulder, he ate his meal in peace. Sizhui and Jingyi’s soft voices beside him relaxed the tension in his neck, settling the quiet sense of loneliness he’d felt without them. Even the noisy presence of the other students around the pond didn’t irritate him like it usually would.

Between the warm weather, melodic song birds, and good company, it was admittedly difficult for Jin Ling to finally tear himself away from the scene. He allowed himself a few minutes after he finished eating to relax, and then gently pushed MingYue away so he could stand. A quick word of departure to her and the two Lans, Jin Ling called Gongzhu to his side and disappeared into the trees.

Following the path from memory, the Jin cultivator returned to the entrance of the cave filled with corpses. He watched Gongzhu carefully as they approached the opening, looking to her for any warning that the situation under the ground had worsened. Gongzhu trotted along beside him, panting contentedly as though they were on a leisurely walk. Once they reached the cave, the reason for the dog’s relaxed conduct became apparent. Whereas yesterday, the cave’s opening had been heavily decorated in camouflage talismans, there were now none. Jin Ling frowned, feeling all tension return to his neck.

Tying a robe to a nearby tree, Jin Ling careened down into the cave. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he walked straight to the tunnel and waded into the river. With a flame talisman lit, he quickly returned to the cavern that had previously held two dozen corpses; and just as expected, the room was now completely empty, cleared out of all evidence that anyone had been here. He swore loudly, kicking the nearest rock and sending it ricocheting against the far wall.

Jin Ling reached into his sleeve and pulled out Wei Wuxian’s compass. The needle spun around slowly, never pausing or jerking to spin in the other direction, indicating that whatever Yin energy had existed until now had disappeared. He slammed it shut and dropped it back into his sleeve, putting his hands on his hips and walking aimlessly about the cavern while he pondered the situation. Without the corpses in the cave, the only evidence he now had was the one walking corpse and singular iron nail he’d stashed away.

If I’d known the necromancer would cover his tracks so quickly, I would’ve taken one of the camouflage talismans as well… What the fuck am I supposed to do now? This was my one lead and now… Nothing!

Swearing loudly, he waded back through the river to the main cavern. The cave was giving away no new secrets or hints, so there was no point in hanging around. He climbed back up the rope and packed it away into his qiankun pouch. After confirming no scraps of evidence had been overlooked or forgotten in the area surrounding the cave opening, Jin Ling returned to the pond.

“Sizhui. Jingyi. Come here.” Jin Ling tapped each of their shoulders and gestured for them to follow as he moved out of earshot of the students.

“Rulan.” Jingyi replied, matching Jin Ling’s formal tone.

Jin Ling turned to face them, hands folded behind his back. “I didn’t want to say anything and add to your worries, when Wang Xinyi was a more pressing issue…”

“But?” Sizhui’s brows were already upturned with concern.

“The Yin energy I’ve been investigating in the valley.” Jin Ling spoke in a low, curt voice. “Yesterday, I found a cave nearby that was full of corpses, obscured by camouflage talismans.”

Sizhui and Jingyi exchanged bemused looks.

Jin Ling pulled the qiankun pouch from his sleeve and fished out the iron nail. “Each of the corpses had one of these inserted into their skulls.”

Sizhui took the nail, looking it over quickly, pausing when he spotted the sigil on its head.

“I was there just now, and everything’s been removed. Whoever was using the cave cleared it out after I found it.”

“Wait. Is this why you were so worried about Song Lan-?” Jingyi started, his eyes growing wide.

“Exactly. If there’s a necromancer in the valley, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen are both at risk of being manipulated.” Jin Ling took the nail back and hid it away again. “How is Xinyi?”

Sizhui glanced back through the trees to the group, chewing his lip anxiously. “His energy is more unstable today, but he’s still behaving normally. I think the situation with him is less pressing in comparison.”

Jin Ling nodded. “Let’s head back to the temple. We’ll need to tell Xiao Xingchen about this as soon as possible.”

[akvtsuki-ari]

Saccharine

Warnings: smut! fingering, crying, penetration/creampie, unprotected sex

Length: 4k 

Authors note: i truly do not have words or explanation for this fic lol its loosely based off of real life events and this tweet. also the 90′s RnB song is So Into You by Tamia. either way hope yall enjoy! 

Summary: Luke think you’re the cutest person in the world and it makes him wanna fuck the shit out of you. 

Luke Alvez is an asshole. 

Don’t let his charming smile and puppy-dog existence fool you. He’s an asshole, a complete dick and his entire persona demands to be fought.

Why? 

It’s a bit of a hefty explanation but for the last maybe week or so, Luke Alvez has managed to figure out the fact that you’re actually kinda easy to embarrass. He wouldn’t really peg you for the type since you work together and in the field - well, you’re someone who always stands your ground. No matter the unsub, the stakes, the risks - you stood tall against everything and it was hard to shake your existence. 

It was actually rather admirable to Luke. It was what attracted him to you in the first place, because despite all that you were always watching over everyone, always showing him genuine thought and care when a case was hard on him and giving him solid advice. Luke liked you for a lot of reasons, but your unwavering sense of reliability was a huge, towering factor and he can’t say that part of you had changed that much. You were so dependable and steady - when the two of you started dating, and he saw such a different side of you - he could feel his heart collapse. 

It was so goddamn cute. It borderline frustrated him how cute you were being and you had no idea. Luke’s a gentleman by nature, he figures. It was how he was raised, always wanting to respect women and be chivalrous, but it was clear early on that that wasn’t something you were all that used to. When he asked you about it, you clarified. 

 “I mean, I’ve been in relationships before and it’s nice when guys do it for me, but you’re different,’ you explain carefully, blushing painted on your cheeks. 

“Different?,” his voice laced with genuine, bright-eyed curiousity. 

“It makes me feel really happy when you do it, if that makes sense. Like I’m special, and you’re not doing it just because that's just what guys are supposed to do. I like that you’re just nice,” you sat slowly. Luke couldn’t help the grin on his face and you flush, covering your face with your hands. 

“That sounds stupid, I’m sorry,” you say, groaning at your own existence. Luke watches the way your hair falls over your hands and can’t help the way his heart soars through his chest. He wraps his arms around your waist and hugs you tight, picking you up and spinning you around. You let out a fit of giggles and Luke struggles not to do anything more. 

He couldn’t get over how fucking adorable it was. You’d been dating for nearly a year and it never changed about you - your genuine suprise at his romance and affection for you made his heart absolutely scream. If someone mentioned you, he’d smile till his face hurt and every time you did anything unintentionally adorable it left Lukes mind racing. It was different things that got him every time. When you first started dating and you cooked him a bunch of healthy meals to make sure he ate well while you were visiting home. You falling asleep with Roxy in his bed, or leaving a bunch of sweet-smelling shower products over at his house. Nothing was ever a big deal to you, you just did what you did because you were you and Luke was so wholly in love with it. 

One time, in particular, stands out to him. It was 2am and Luke was coming home from some paperwork - you ended up leaving early cause you’re a lot better on that stuff than he is. When he comes he finds his dim lights turned on, you dancing to 90’s RnB in the kitchen while making breakfast. You were wearing his tshirts, Roxy playfully running around your feet as you did. You were completely in the moment, too concerned with the music to notice him so close by. 

“I really like what you’ve done to me, I can’t really explain it, I am so into you ~ ,” your voice is soft and sweet as you sing the melody, flipping pancakes and being in your element. Luke was in love, so damn deep in it. He came up behind you to give you a tight hug and you yelp a little before you relax. 

But that was then, and this was now. Closing in on a year, and Luke just couldn’t really help himself but to tease you and elicit that adorable reaction at absolutely any chance he had. Every time he saw you, he just needed to get that teeny adorable reaction out of you. 

But - it was masochistic because Luke knew that he wanted something more, wanted to frustrate you more out of something a lot less wholesome than careful affection. He knew that the teasing had much greater stakes in his favor that would result in a shower and 15 minutes with his hands wrapped around his dick trying to get the image of you falling apart for him out of his mind. 

It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t had sex before - you did and it was fantastic. You were attentive, and good in bed. He didn’t have any problems with your sex life for the most part but - 

It’s genuinely hard to explain. He just wants to touch you and be the only person to make you feel how he can make you feel. Maybe it was kinda selfish but it was growing on him day to day and teasing you relentlessly was his only outlet. 

You were easily embarrassed just as you were easily frustrated. Luke's teasing was only growing and while you know it was never meant to be mean, it was starting to make you frustrated. You weren’t genuinely angry or anything, but it was goddamn frustrating to be easily embarrassed especially randomly during the work-day and you were going to put your foot down damn it. 

It was the end of a case, and everyone was packing up to get back onto the jet. Luke saw you struggling to reach something on a top shelf close - it looked like your coffee mug. You assume Spencer had put it up while cleaning and now you were here, feeling your shirt ride up as you stretched yourself up trying to get that damned mug. 

Luke saw you and laughed, and with great purpose takes his hand around your waist and pulls you down. You huff, then blush and look away as you feel his chest pressed against your back - picking the mug up with ease. 

“Damn it, Luke,” you sigh frustrated. He looks at you as you turn to him and smiles charmingly, 

“What's with you lately? Huh? You’re so mean to me,” you pout, not angry but frustrated. Luke sense your genuine upset and pouts back. 

“Aww what?,” he respond

“What’re you being so mean for huh? It seems like you have something you’re hiding,” you joke. But Luke's expression changes and you falter - watching the way he swallows and looks at you, eyes dark. 

“Hey,” you say, pressing your hand against his cheek. His eyes flutter to you, mind suddenly swimming with something as dangerous as thought and fantasies and he doesn’t seem to be able to breathe. 

“Sorry, we can talk at home,” the words escape him faster than he can stop them and you smile, getting on your tip-toes to give him a kiss and patting his chest adoringly. Luke smiles and watches you head out, following in suit. 

_

The plane ride and drive home were normal. Idle chatter and soft touches as usual. Luke ended up falling asleep in your arms on the plane and the team took a rather cute picture of you running your fingers through his hair. 

But now the two of you were alone, in your shared apartment. You were half undressed wearing a dress shirt and no pants, and Luke was changed into a t-shirt and sweats. You pour yourself some white wine and pour Luke some scotch before handing him a glass. You sit next to him on the couch, knees pulled up underneath you as you sit, wine glass in hand. 

“What’d you wanna talk about?,” you ask, taking a sip. Luke does the same and sighs, swishing the alcohol in his glass. 

“Ah, it’s nothing important babe,” he says mildly. You look at him suspiciously, earning him a laugh. You stretch your legs to be on his lap and he puts a hand on your outer thigh, rubbing circles into it. You felt yourself flush and Luke smiles, laughing quietly.

“From the way you looked earlier, it was definitely something. Whatever it is, I won’t judge you - just wanna make sure everything is okay, you know?,” your tone is warm and gentle. Luke can’t help but sigh, ready to succumb to your affection much quicker than he wanted to admit, you smile at him genuinely and it makes his heart twitch. 

“It’s honestly just too embarrassing,” he laughs. You frown at him and readjust. He’s joking but there's some honesty in there too. You sigh. 

“Try me,” 

You’re looking at him intently and it makes Luke nervous. He coughs a little bit, suddenly noticing how cute you look like this and he shakes his head. 

“You wanted to know why I was teasing you so much, right?,” he asks. You nod. 

“Well, honestly - I can’t really help myself. It’s the little things you do, you make me feel like a teenager in high school,” his laugh is bright, yet fond. You scrunch your face up and blush and Luke looks to you. 

“See what I mean? You’re adorable, really,” he makes a point out of your reaction but you just shake your head in embarrassment. He smiles, leaning over to press a kiss on your forehead. 

“You’re annoying with how cute you are, man. It gets a little in my head you know?” he tries to say the thing, without saying the thing. It makes you realize what this could be about but you try and dismiss the thought quickly. 

Curiosity killed the cat though, and you were the cat it seems. 

“You couldn’t mean... that, could you?,” you say slowly. You look at Luke and he gives you a sheepish smile. You hit his shoulder, only to hide your face in it seconds afterward. He can’t say he doesn’t get it, he can see how you might be embarrassed about your adorable antics turning him on.

“That’s embarrassing,” you whine out. Luke laughs heartily, and rubs your back as you cling onto him, shy as ever. He ignores the way his dick twitches when you do. 

“But wait,” you pull back from his side, and look up at him curiously. He was seriously going to die. 

“I mean it’s embarrassing but if you just want to have sex than that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, so it’s something else isn’t it. What is it?,” you repeat the question to him softly as you pull closer to him. You look at him, exploring his features, noticing his lips, and the scruff of his beard, and his eyebrows. You’re not really looking for anything in particular, rather you’re just looking at him because you like to. You stare at his lips for a while because you think they’re pretty, and Luke can’t really hold back when you do.  

He leans when he kisses you, his grip around your thighs just a little bit tighter. The kiss is slow, mouth subtly giving Luke more room. You can feel the way his tongue nips at yours, pulling back from soft pecks that slowly turn to something more than just a kiss. You whine when he kisses you like that, the way he pulls off soft and slow just to look at you. You feel inebriated when he pulls back, unsure of a time he’s kissed you in such a way. Your face must’ve been one of shock, because when you pull back, Luke chuckles. He can’t help himself. 

“Sorry,” he apologizes but he doesn’t mean it. You take the scotch out of his hand and set it next to your wine glass before you throw your legs on the other side of his and straddle him. You look to him, face hot and thighs just itching to tighten against one another but you hold out. 

He takes you in when you sit on his lap like that. His hand aimlessly grazing your waist as you put your hands on top of his, as if to let him know you were attuned to his action. You always did so, even if it was momentarily. Your face was red at the way he touched, looked at you, - adored you really. His eyes were fixated on the spot between your legs, hands dangerously close to your backside. You cover your eyes with your sleeve when he does, and he smiles. He kisses your collarbones, teeth grazing the spot of skin slightly as ever and you whimper. A groan escapes Luke's throat and your eyes shoot open to look at him

You expect to see something that resembles that cheesy, shy smile that he normally has but you don’t. Instead, you’re greeted with eyes glazed over in lust and depravity. Unexpected is the understatement of the year and you fold under the weight of it. The way he’s so still in watching you, taking you in - it gives you a sense of how long this must’ve been taking place in his head. You look into his eyes for a second and you can see the way his teeth grit and that makes you pout. He just closes his eyes when you do. 

“You make me crazy, my love,” he laughs. His voice is dark. The tension between you two is tangible and you, unsure of what to say, smile. 

“Sorry,” you say softly. Your fiddle with your hands in your lap, and Luke is at his limit. He moves your hands behind your back, and leans into you. You’re startled but turned on as he whispers to you. 

“Let me show you what it is, yeah?,” Luke's voice has a grip on you that you can’t get rid of. You nod, chewing the inside of your lip and Luke takes a deep breath, taking you in as he lets go of your hands. 

“Take your shirt off for me, okay?,” he asks, voice hoarse. You nod, unbuttoning the top three buttons and revealing tight lace. It was comfortable and expensive and Luke couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Your shirt falls to the floor and Luke doesn’t have patience at this rate so he unclasps your bra too, pretty as it is, letting you slide it off and watching fall to the floor. 

For a second, Luke just looks at you. He notices the curve of your breasts, and how gorgeous they are - how the sheen of sweat and flushed heat makes appearances all over your body and how your thighs seem to squish you sit down on him. He can feel how wet you are through the layer of his sweats and he really can’t seem to do anything but focus. His expression is enough for you to feel the heartbeat in your clit and you whimper. 

Luke's groans and goes into action - recklessly latching his mouth to your neck as his hands explore every part of your body. You moan again, high and whiny - just trying to make sense of the feeling of Luke. He manages to be everywhere all at once, overwhelming all your senses without having to touch you too much at all. His hands explore your skin, rough and calloused serves contrast to yours, soft and supple. His hands grips at your thighs as his mouth works his way down to your nipples, mouth latching onto one as his settle on your hips. He presses you down lightly, and without much consideration you rock yourself against his erection, pressing up against you. You whine - the friction leaving your existence incessantly sensitive. 

Luke is busied by you, his tongue left to flick against your nipples as he goes between brushing them back and forth and sucking them. His hands are focused on getting you to press yourself against him, and his head is insistent on listening to every little whimper that manages to leave your mouth as he does so. You can feel all the spots on your chest covered in hickies - fingertip bruises just above your thighs. 

“Luke,” the whine leaves you unintentionally, your words too out of focus for you to repeat. You’re too focused on the way you need to be touched or fucked or anything, to say anything sensical. You don’t have to speak though, Luke already knows what you need, his hand is immediately at your panties. 

His fingers were careful, two pressed up against your clit - at first, simply brushing against them, eliciting multiple unwavered sighs and whimpers. He speeds his pace up just a little, and you grip onto his shoulder in anticipation, pressing your forehead to his as you take in the feeling of pleasure. 

“It feels so nice,” your voice is carried out and distant, jaw just slightly slack. Eyes fluttering as they looked forward to see Luke, who was carefully watching his own hands work you 

“You’re so wet, fuck,” his voice is hoarse. You nod, chewing your lip. 

“Cause of you,” your voice is worn out and Luke swears he can see god, she’s right there in front of him bringing his whole being closer to heaven. 

“Say that again, please,” he’d beg on his hands and knees to hear that again. Enticing because he knows what you mean. 

He looks up at you, foreheads still touching as you make eye contact with him - your expression painfully far away. You shut them once he hits that speed you like,

“You’re the only person who can get me this wet,” and that's all it takes. Luke's hands go just a little further down, finding your entrance. He runs his fingers across your slit and is greeted with slickness he can’t help but be pleased by. 

One finger first - it goes in ridiculously easily. You can feel it in you but it’s still not enough, you urge Luke with a tug to his shirt and he doesn’t hesitate to push his ring finger inside of you. Before he does anything else, he angles his palm to push against your clit and his fingers to be just a little bit deeper inside you. He curls his fingers tightly, pushing directly against your g-spot. 

The noise you let out is too beautiful for him to comprehend. It was loud and wanton and desperate. It was high-pitched and whiny, and soft and so fucking cute. He couldn’t describe how it got to him even if he tried and he let out a groan from deep in his chest. 

You pull away from him to look at him and he looks back at you. You can feel his fingers curl inside of you so many times over you lost count, the palm of his hand lazily pressing up against your clit. He looked into you, eyes never leaving yours as his fingers worked otherworldly magic in you. 

It felt so fucking good. Bursts and waves of pleasure hitting you at maximum speed, over and over and over, as if today was your last day on earth. Your skin was so hot it could burn someone to touch, and your stomach was tight as you held yourself over Luke, earth-shattering orgasms hitting you wave after wave like it was nothing. Your voice was coarse, screams of Luke's name ripping through you as you try to steady yourself from the unseemly tidal waves of pleasure you happened to be experiencing. Your thighs and core ached from all the tensity, hair sticking to your forehead, all your weight leaning on Lukes. He was breathing so heavy, egging you on softly with praises about how cute you looked like this. Ruined like this just for him. 

Before you can explain, tears form in the corners of your eyes as you look at Luke. He slows down but you shake your head in protest as hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your makeup, already smudged, is ruined but you smile at him. 

“Please don’t stop, I’m okay, it just,” your voice catches in your throat as Luke speeds up again - clearly inclined by your urgency, your fingers wrapped around his wrist. You look into his eyes searching for how to explain yourself but 

“It feels so fucking good, so please keep going,” your voice is exasperated. You plead with him like he wouldn’t give you exactly what you wanted and then some. He doesn’t know what to say so he just grins, kissing tears off of your face.

He knows he should break you off soon, so in one last act of vigor - he curls his fingers inside of you again and rubs his palm against your clit. His speed isn’t faster as much as it is more consistent, slowly picking the pace up as he draws you in closer one more time. He leans his mouth next to your ear, nipping at your neck and jaw before he guides you through your last orgasm. 

“You have me so in my head, baby. Look at you like this, how fucking wet you are for me - I don’t want anybody fucking else to see how cute you are like this,” his words are aggressive but they meaning they carry is loving. Right now all it does is edge you into your orgasm further and your brain is entirely fried. You just nod, mindless, breathless, speechless - simply unable to exist at all as for one last time Luke Alvez makes you cum until you see stars, like the asshole he is. 

You’re still crying when you come down from your high. Luke slips his fingers in your mouth and you clean them off for him obediently before he kisses you. Your eyes are filled to the brim with loving tears and your orgasm was so intense you don’t know what to do. You tell Luke to take off his shirt and he does, laughing. You koala wrap yourself around him and settle into him, so happily exhausted. 

“Baby,” he laughs. You lean back to look at him and furrow your brows. 

“Did you cum yet?,”  you say. Luke laughs sheepishly and shakes his head no.

“Uh, no -  I was just gonna take care of it later -,” Luke gets cut off by the feeling of your hands around his waistband, pulling his pants down. He sucks in a breath between his teeth and looks at you. 

“I know you’re tired Y/N, it’s,” he’s cut off again by you, this time you sloppily place your lips on him as you line his dick up with your entrance. You sink down on him easily and the gasp the leaves his throat makes you giggle. You grind on him for a second, before bouncing up and down on him. You knew he wouldn’t last too long at this rate, and you wanted to get him off. 

“You can cum inside, ‘m on the pill after all,” you say softly. Luke is letting out strings of swear words, as he works his hips up to meet your pace, pounding into you. Luke stretched you out nicely. Normally you two still use a condom for the purposes of safety but you really wanted to feel him inside you. 

You work your teeth along Luke's neck leaving some moderate hickies before he holds your hips up and pounds into you one last time - cumming inside you, your name escaping him like a prayer. 

“God fucking damn, Y/N,” he can't help his shock as he pulls out, and you just giggle. You wrap your arms around him carefully and hug him koala style once more. He places kisses all over your shoulders,  holding you to him and listening to your breathing. The two of you lie there in soft warmth, trying to slow down and relax from your high. 

“You pull back to Luke and look at him so fondly he could melt and he smiles at you. 

“Luke, don’t date anyone else ever,” you say straight-faced. He can’t help the loud laugh that slips and looks at you adoringly. He kisses you sweetly. 

“Never princess. You either, okay?,” he says. You nod, placing kisses all over his bearded face loving, hugging him close. 

“Mhm, okay,”

___

taglist: @cynbx​ @skrrrrrrrrrrt​ @reid-187​ @zephyr-studiesjp​

[unfolded73]

Five Times Ronnie Was a Friend to David and One Time She Was a Friend to Patrick (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

"I think it's less about Ronnie disliking Patrick, and [more about] Ronnie seeing this person come in and having a huge effect on someone she cares as much about as she does David," Robinson said. "Ronnie likes to take her time and figure things out, and err on the side of suspicion." -- Karen Robinson in The Advocate

Rated Teen, 3876 words

___________________________________

1.

When Ronnie saw Stevie get out of the car that morning with David Rose, she almost spit out her coffee.

Ronnie had been going on Roland’s annual turkey shoot since before she’d run for town council almost a decade ago, when she’d shot more turkeys than any of the men on the trip and had earned a lot of grudging respect. This morning, she’d been standing there with Bob and Roland, shooting the same kind of shit they always did. Their council meetings often devolved into this kind of idle chatter, which was one of the many reasons it was hard to get anything done in Schitt’s Creek.

The day was cool and crisp and Ronnie’s thermos of coffee was warm in her hand. She was already looking forward to swapping it for beer later, after they’d hopefully bagged a few wild turkeys. Then David and Stevie arrived, and Ronnie’s attention was thoroughly diverted.

Ronnie hadn’t really spent any time with David Rose yet. She knew Johnny because he’d made a nuisance of himself at a couple of council meetings, and she knew Alexis, thanks to her court-ordered community service. (And yes, Alexis was a princess — the type of person you’d see on one of those ridiculous reality shows on basic cable. But she showed up for her community service dates and made some kind of an effort. Plus she was pretty; not Ronnie’s type and way too young for her, but admittedly enjoyable to look at.) Ronnie had even spoken to Moira, the most baffling of the Roses, a couple of times at the café. David, she hadn’t really given much thought to yet.

Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. She’d clocked David as queer right away, and she couldn’t say she was sorry to have another queer resident in Schitt’s Creek. But she’d also assumed he was vain and probably an asshole, and she didn’t have room in her life for assholes. Seeing him at the annual turkey shoot didn’t fit at all into her preconceived notion about him.

The way he handled a gun, that fit into her preconceived notion about him. Still, he was trying, and she had to give him credit for that. Ronnie took pity on him and helped with his grip on the gun so that the recoil wouldn’t knock him flat. And when he shot his first turkey in the neck and had to watch it slowly die, she did feel sorry for him, patting his back to commiserate.

When they paused for a break in the early afternoon, Ronnie took it upon herself to bring David a beer. He accepted the bottle with a poorly-restrained grimace. “Thanks.” His voice was quiet, the edges from earlier filed off.

“How did Stevie talk you into this, anyway?” Ronnie asked. “Doesn’t seem like your scene.”

He looked down his nose at her. “How’d you guess?”

She just raised an eyebrow and waited.

David huffed. “I don’t know. Stevie asked me, and there had been this bug thing, and… I figured if I said no, it would just confirm her assumption that I have no practical skills. And… I don’t know. She’s been a… friend… to me. So.”

Ronnie nodded, impressed with his openness. Maybe it was brought on by the trauma of killing a turkey, but it was openness nonetheless.

“Plus, I had nothing better to do,” David added.

Ronnie clinked her beer bottle against his. “Fair enough.”

2.

Ronnie couldn’t help being curious when word got around that David was starting to get things set up inside the general store, that maybe he’d be opening his new store soon, although no date had been announced. There was a lot of buzz around town about it — Brenda had been telling anyone who would listen that David Rose was a fan of the moisturizer she made at home and would be selling it under his label. If Ronnie was honest, Brenda was getting a little too excited about it given that the store hadn’t even opened yet.

Still, when Ronnie came out of the café one afternoon and saw a sign painter starting to work on the windows outside, she wandered over to have a look.

She tapped on the door, waiting until David looked up and beckoned before she went in.

Already, she could see David’s mark on the space. All the metal shelving from the old general store was gone, replaced by wood furniture that gave the store a much more upscale look. David was busy sticking labels onto bottles in the middle of the room, his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on his task.

“Hi, Ronnie,” he said, his eyes darting around nervously. “Are you here to revoke my business license?”

She laughed. “I don’t have that kind of power.” Sticking her hands in her back pockets, Ronnie rocked on her heels. “I just wanted to get a look at the place.”

David gestured around. “Here it is. There’s a lot to do still.”

She looked around at all the boxes of products, at the empty shelves left to fill. “You don’t have any help?”

“Oh, I do, actually? Not at the moment, but I have a… I guess I have a business partner now?” A furtive smile flickered on his face. “Not officially, yet. But I will have a business partner.”

Ronnie raised her eyebrows. “Who?”

“Um, Patrick Brewer? He works with Ray right now, but—”

“That guy? Isn’t he brand new in town?” Gwen just so happened to have introduced her to Patrick last week as the newest player on the Café Tropical baseball team.

David shrugged. “I guess.”

“And so you trust him to help you run your business… why exactly?” Ronnie had gotten the impression of a hypercompetitive bro type, what little of Patrick had caught her attention during the game. She hadn’t been impressed.

David’s eyes widened. “Because!” She stared at him and waited for him to elaborate. “Because he knows about taxes and grant money and food product licenses and I don’t know about any of those things.”

“So you’re going to entrust your business to him,” Ronnie said flatly, shaking her head. “Isn’t that exactly the kind of trust that led to your family losing all your money?”

“Patrick’s not going to embezzle money from me,” David said with an eye roll. “For one thing, I don’t really have any money for him to embezzle. And for another, he’s not that kind of person.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know.” David huffed, flailing his hands around. “Now can you please stop trying to give me more things to be anxious about? Believe me, I’m anxious enough as it is.”

“Okay.” She sighed. David was like an innocent lamb in some ways, she thought, and not just because of his fuzzy sweaters.

“Look, I know the town council would have preferred Christmas World, but—”

“Oh, that was mainly Bob and Roland,” Ronnie said. And Moira, it had to be said, but she wasn’t about to mention that to David in case he didn’t already know. “Personally, I think year-round Christmas stores are tacky.”

“Thank you.”

“Whereas this place looks like it’s gonna be…” She scanned the room again. Somehow it seemed brighter than it ever had under the previous owners. Maybe it was just that the windows were clean. “Really nice. Classy.”

David gave her a charming, lopsided smile. “That’s the plan.”

3.

“Where the hell is Bob?” Ronnie said, looking at her watch. The sooner they got this council meeting started, the sooner she could get on with her day.

“Robert does seem to have a rather dégagé relationship with the clock, doesn’t he?” Moira said, flipping the page on the book she was reading.

“How late is David’s store open?” Roland asked. “Jocelyn wanted me to pick up a couple of things on my way home.”

“I’m afraid I don’t monitor the hours of my son’s place of business, Roland,” Moira said with a bored sigh.

Roland leaned back and put his feet on the desk. “I mean, assuming they aren’t making a habit of closing early so they can get up to some hanky-panky in the back room,” he said with a snicker. And then when no one commented, he added more directly, “Twyla told me David and Patrick are an item.”

Moira finally looked up. “Are you asking me to gossip about my own son’s romantic liaisons?”

Roland was undeterred. “Just curious if the rumours are true.”

“I’m not sure which rumours you speak of, but yes, I understand that David’s relationship with his business partner has grown into an affair de coeur.”

“So you are going to gossip about it then,” Ronnie said, her chin resting on her hand.

“I shall give no further details, Veronica,” Moira said, going back to her book.

Ronnie didn’t give it any more thought until she saw David in the café a few days later. She was lingering over her breakfast at the counter when David came in and ordered a coffee and a tea to go from Twyla.

“How’s the store, David?” Ronnie asked when Twyla went to make the drinks.

“It’s… great, actually. People seem to want to buy the things we sell, which is nice.”

“Well, that is sort of the whole point of owning a store.” She hesitated, unsure if she should say anything else, but then she figured, what the hell. “The scuttlebutt around town is that you and you and your business partner are more than business partners.”

“Oh, so people are talking about us,” David said with a frown.

Ronnie shrugged. “It’s a small town and there’s not much else for people to do. You know how it is.”

He looked insulted at the idea that he would know how it is.

“It’s an awful lot to share with one person, David,” she said, because she’d been there before, when she was young. Madly in love and certain that she’d found the one, the stereotypical U-Haul lesbian, moving too fast and getting her heart broken. She’d learned the hard way.

“Are you giving me relationship advice?” His head moved a complicated dance on the end of his neck, somehow expressing his anxiety better than his words ever could.

“I’m saying that getting involved with the person who you have to run a business with can get messy when things don’t work out.”

His eyes flickered down to his shoes. “I know. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I fuck it up.”

“So sure that you’re going to be the one to fuck it up?” she asked, feeling that same protectiveness that he’d always engendered in her for some reason.

“Well Patrick isn’t going to be the one to fuck it up, he’s… perfect, basically?”

Him? she wanted to ask. Instead she said, “Nobody’s perfect.”

Twyla brought over David’s to-go cups.

“Just… be careful, that’s all I’m saying,” Ronnie said, accepting the check from Twlya and pulling out her wallet to pay.

“I will,” David said softly. “I mean, I am.” But she could tell that he was already a goner, his cheeks flushed and bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He also pulled his wallet from his pocket, handing over some cash to Twyla. “He’s… new at this. Being with a man,” David said, so quietly that she almost didn’t catch the words.

“Oh, boy,” Ronnie said, because she’d been down that road too. She’d been an experiment to a few girls who later decided they weren’t really all that bisexual after all. She’d been forced back into the closet by girlfriends who weren’t ready to be out. All of it sucked. She guessed David had been through his share of those kinds of relationships too.

Fighting every aloof instinct she had, Ronnie put a hand on David’s arm. “If you ever want to talk, I’m around. You can give me a call.”

David looked as surprised by this moment of tenderness as Ronnie herself was. “Thanks, Ronnie.”

“Any time, David.”

4.

Ronnie was on her third whiskey when David and Stevie arrived at the Wobbly Elm.

David was wincing as they joined her at the bar. “I hope my partner hasn’t driven you to drink, Ronnie.”

Ronnie glared at him. As if she cared enough about Patrick Brewer for anything he did to drive her to drink. “I finished the bathroom when I said I would, didn’t I?”

David held his hands up in surrender. “The bathroom is beautiful, Ronnie. The calligraphy workshop last night went off without a hitch.”

“Glad to hear it,” she muttered, her drink back at her lips.

“Will you shut up about the damn bathroom, David? We’re here to drown my sorrows, remember?” Stevie said, poking him in the chest. “Go get us drinks.”

“Fine, fine,” he said, moving down the bar to get the bartender’s attention.

“Drown your sorrows?” Ronnie asked.

Stevie sighed. “The guy I was seeing turned out to be an asshole: the Stevie Budd story.”

“Mm.” Ronnie took another sip of her whiskey. “I’d say the problem is men, but my love life hasn’t been much better lately,” she said just as David rejoined them.

“I thought you were with… what’s her name? The gravel lady,” David said.

“Karen,” Stevie said at the same time that Ronnie said, “We split up.”

“I’m sorry, Ronnie,” Stevie said, lifting her hand as if she was going to touch Ronnie’s back, and then wisely thinking better of it and dropping her hand back to the bar.

Ronnie shrugged. “It happens.”

“Wow, this has, like, never happened to me,” David said.

Stevie narrowed her eyes. “What?”

“I’ve never been the one with the successful relationship in a group of people at a bar like this. I’m always the one crying into my martini.”

“Shut the fuck up, David,” Stevie said.

“Does that sound like a thing you should be saying to us right now?” Ronnie asked, her voice going high with indignation.

“Just for that, you’re buying the next round too,” said Stevie.

“Okay.” David said, biting his lip. “Sorry.”

***

“And so apparently a casual fuck is all I was good for,” Stevie said before drawing more pot smoke into her lungs. She and David sat on the hood of Stevie’s car at the far end of the Wobbly Elm parking lot. Ronnie stood beside them, holding herself steady using the car’s side mirror and sharing a joint with these children because apparently that was how low she had sunk.

“That’s bullshit, Stevie,” David said, taking the joint from between Stevie’s thumb and finger.

“Well, you’d know,” Stevie said.

“That’s exactly it, though,” he replied before pausing to hold the smoke in. “It’s because you are such an excellent person in other ways that it would have been a mistake to ruin it with sex,” David said in a long exhale before passing the joint to Ronnie. “Or, with more sex, I mean.”

“Maybe I’m also bad at sex,” Stevie said.

“You are definitely not bad at sex. You’re great at sex,” David said.

“Really?” Stevie asked.

David nodded. “Yep. Yes.”

“You’re great at it too, David.”

“Uhhh, yeah. Of course I am.”

“I am getting such a fascinating window into your relationship,” Ronnie said as she passed the joint back to Stevie.

“I bet you’re great at sex too, Ronnie,” David said.

“Damn right I am.”

“Stevie and I tried the friends with benefits thing a long time ago,” David explained, the marijuana freeing his tongue. “And although we’re better off as friends and I’m very much in love with Patrick, that doesn’t stop me from seeing that you are the whole package, Stevie Budd, and if Emir didn’t see that then he can suck a bag of dicks.”

Stevie laughed wildly.

“Same goes for Gravel Karen,” David said, gesturing up and down at Ronnie.

“Uh huh,” Ronnie said impassively, although deep down she was pleased.

Stevie’s head dropped until her chin touched her chest. “I’m gonna have to leave my car here. We should call a cab.”

It occurred to Ronnie that she wasn’t anywhere near sober enough to drive either. She was out of practice at this whole going out and drinking in bars thing, and she was even more out of practice with this smoking pot thing. “I’m too old for this,” she said with a heavy sigh.

“I’ll call Patrick,” David said, fumbling for his phone. “He’ll pick us up.”

Which was how twenty minutes later, Ronnie found herself climbing into the back seat of Patrick Brewer’s Toyota next to Stevie, who immediately let her head fall onto Ronnie’s shoulder. David was planting a sloppy kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek in the front seat, making Patrick wipe the saliva off his face with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Wow, you guys reek of pot smoke,” Patrick said, looking at Ronnie with his stupid Bambi-eyes in the rearview mirror.

“Just drive, Brewer,” Ronnie said.

“Straight men are the worst,” Stevie murmured. “Why do I bother with them?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, honey,” Ronnie said, petting Stevie’s hair.

5.

“So they tell me I have you to thank for all the extra flowers,” David said, sinking into a chair next to Ronnie as she put a forkful of wedding cake in her mouth. She caught a flash of his inner thigh before he crossed his legs, and while Ronnie had no interest in the male half of the species, she’d have to be dead not to appreciate David Rose in that skirt and those boots.

“Well, it was the least I could do,” she said after she’d swallowed her bite of cake. “You deserved a nice day.”

“And you and the Jazzagals learned our song,” David said with one of his lopsided smiles, a glass half-full of champagne dangling carelessly in one hand. “You, Ronnie Lee, stood in a room full of people and sang the song that Patrick sang to me at the first open mic.”

“That was Jocelyn’s idea,” Ronnie said with a frown. “I had to go along with the group.”

David elbowed her. “Come on. Admit it. You don’t totally hate Patrick. You like him a little bit.”

She was going to admit no such thing. “I don’t hate that he makes you happy. I don’t understand what you see in him, but I’m glad that you’re so happy.” And then she felt tears welling up again, as if it wasn’t bad enough that she had cried during the ceremony. She fervently hoped no one had seen her wiping away tears.

He grinned more widely, so she guessed she’d given him a satisfactory answer. Ronnie looked over at the dance floor, where David’s husband was currently dancing with his sister-in-law.

“I hear you’re buying the place out on O’Beirn Road,” she said.

He nodded, his face positively glowing with happiness now. “I’ve been admiring that cottage from afar for years. We’ll be moving in next month.”

“A place like that, it might need some work done. I trust you’ll come to me first if you need a contractor?” She took another bite of cake. It was delicious cake, moist and citrusy, and she savored the bite on her tongue.

“Of course we will. I have some ideas for the kitchen, although we might have to wait a year or two until there’s enough money to do justice to my vision.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to do anything that didn’t do justice to your vision.” She ate some more cake and watched David watching Patrick until she couldn’t stand it any more. “Ugh, your heart eyes are giving me a stomachache. Go dance.”

David held his hand out to her. “Come dance with me, Ronnie.”

She hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and took his hand and let herself be pulled out onto the dance floor.

+1.

Ronnie had almost dozed off at her desk in Town Hall when he came in.

“Patrick Brewer,” she said, eyeing him up and down. “Shouldn’t you be off on a honeymoon somewhere?”

He approached her nervously, his hands clutched together in front of him like a supplicant. “We decided to hold off on the honeymoon until we could afford to go somewhere really nice.”

“It’s not time to renew your permits for the store already, is it?”

“Nope. I’m here about council, actually,” he said.

“Public meetings are the second and fourth Tuesdays of every month,” she said, leaning back and putting her feet up on the desk.

“Okay, but I was more curious about the open council seat. With Mrs. Rose gone.”

“There’ll be an election to fill the seat,” she said, her feet thunking back down to the floor. “Why?”

“I, um… was thinking about running.” He chuckled nervously. “To keep it in the Rose family, I guess.”

“Assuming you’d win,” she said. “That’s presumptuous.”

“Is anyone else running?” he asked, a little of his usual, annoying self-confidence showing through.

Ronnie sighed. “Not yet.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Is that really the reason you want to run? To keep it in the family?”

Patrick cleared his throat and stood up a little straighter. “No. Since we’re settling here pretty much permanently, I’ve been thinking about other ways I might be able to contribute to Schitt’s Creek. I have ideas about bringing more business to downtown. And David and I have gotten to know several of the farmers in the area, selling their products in the store, so I hear a lot about their concerns.”

Ronnie stared at him for another few seconds, and then opened a file drawer, pulling out a form. “You’ll need to fill this nomination form out and get five signatures to support your nomination,” she said, pointing at the blank spaces on the form. “Think you can do that?”

Patrick took the nomination form from her. “Do I think I can get five people to sign my nomination form?” he said, sounding a little bit testy. “Yes, I think I can manage that.”

“You’re a real joiner, aren’t you?” she asked, hand propped up on her hand. “Baseball, community theater, town council… next you’ll be joining the curling club.”

He smirked. “I would, but it interferes with my hockey practice. Besides, Ronnie, you do all those things. Plus the Jazzagals. I’d say it takes a joiner to know one.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Tell you what,” she said, reaching for the form. When he handed it back to her, she signed on the first nomination line. “I’ll give you your first signature.”

Taking the form back, Patrick gave her a bemused look. “I figured I’d be the last person you’d want filling the empty seat on council.”

She shrugged. “Not the last person…”

“Okay, thanks,” he said with an eye roll, turning to leave.

“I’m looking forward to hearing your ideas,” she called, making him stop and turn back. “And if you win, I’m looking forward to kicking your ass on a regular basis, just like I do in baseball.” And then Ronnie laughed, loud and long.

“Good to talk to you too, Ronnie,” Patrick said, headed back toward the door.

She was still laughing. “Say hi to your husband for me!”

[7deadlycinderellas]

No more math and history, ch6

Ao3 link

BIG TW in this chapter for discussion of an incident of religiously motivated child abuse. Please read responsibly.

  Halfway through second session, Sansa’s halfway through reading a letter when she suddenly starts slapping the side of Arya’s arm, making her drop her sandwich.

“You’re never going to believe this!” she gushes, pushing the folded letter at Arya. She takes it and scans the words quickly.

Gendry has paused eating his soup.

“What is it?”

Arya can barely believe her eyes. There’s a polaroid photo included and Arya runs her finger over it.

“Robb wrote that Nymeria came home. Gods, it’s been six years, I figured…”

She doesn’t say. There are still wolves in the north. She stares at the photo, at Nym’s blue eyes, at her gray markings. She wonders if she will even remember her.

It’s nice for a letter to bring good news this time.

She’s sick of Ygritte being so distant, so between her and Sansa, they decide to ambush her during the next rest period.

They both approach her on her cot with arms crossed.

“OK, Ygritte, we’re not leaving until you tell us what’s wrong.”

She tries to stare them down, but Arya and Sansa are better at it than her. With a deep sigh, she reaches into her trunk at the end of her bunk and pulls out a folded, battered letter.

Arya scans the back before turning it over. Sansa hunches over her shoulder so they both can read at the same time.

“You didn’t tell us you heard from Jon,” she says, miffed, “He hasn’t written any of us yet.”

Sansa’s still reading while Arya talks and gets to the middle of the letter first. She clamps her hands over her mouth to stifle a squeal.

Ygritte looks at them both, and mutters, helpfully, as though they hadn’t just read the letter.

“He asked me to marry him.”

Sansa squeals and her hands fly to her mouth. After she’s calmed down, she asks.

“Don’t you want to be part of our family?”

Arya rolls her eyes.

“Don’t mind her, she’s as big a romantic moron as Jon has always been. Also-”

Arya runs her finger along one line in the letter.

“He asked you, ‘how you would feel about getting married’, pretty sure that’s as indirect as Jon can get. He’s probably terrified of what you’ll say.”

Ygritte looks at Arya dubiously.

“So what should I tell him?”

Arya shrugs.

“Tell him how you do feel about getting married. Which, I might ask, is what?”

Ygritte sighs and pulls her knees up to her chest.

“It’s not that I never want to get married, but seven hells, I’m only twenty. I see half the girls who leave school up north at sixteen and get married immediately. They’re my age and half of them already have kids and the other half work shit waitressing jobs while their husband’s run sheep and drink, and it’s just- Forever is such a long, long time to think about...”

Arya rolls her eyes.

“Then tell him that.”

“Isn’t that a little-”

Arya rolls them again, and sits at the end of Ygritte’s bunk.

“Ygritte, you’re the only serious girlfriend Jon’s ever had. You’ve been together for like, five years, and he never even looks at other girls. I’m pretty sure telling him you’re scared to get married so young won’t be a deal breaker.”

“It’s also sort of a cliche for young soldiers to marry immediately upon enlistment, then come home and discover their wives were unfaithful, might want to remind Jon of that,” Sansa comments. Arya snorts. Sansa watches far too many sappy made for TV movies. She’s heard Robb’s friend Theon make a couple of cracks at Jon to make sure he doesn’t get himself tied to a “dependapotamus” too. Arya had lashed out at Theon for being insensitive as usual, but on his rare phone calls, Jon hadn’t seemed to think the other recruits were bastions of rational decision making.

“Just,” Arya adds before she leaves with Sansa, “Don’t panic and make a decision you’ll regret later.” She should write Jon and remind him to keep that in mind too. She’ll go get some stationary at the tuck shop later. “Take your time. That’s one of the benefits of only being able to get snail mail out here.”

Marriage, Arya can barely believe it. It’s such a grown up concern, out here in the woods. She thinks of Jon, off with the Air Force, standing and marching, and wonders if he wishes he were here, even when he is also thinking of marriage.

Later that week, Gendry comes to breakfast whistling. When Arya eyes him, he rolls up his shirt sleeve.

“Made it twenty-four hours without a patch. I now declare myself free of nicotine’s power over my mind and my wallet.”

Arya gives him a high-five and Shireen follows up.

“Shireen was the one who really pushed me to quit,” Gendry confides in Arya. “She really doesn’t like fire, and is apparently invested in me living to old age.”

Gendry’s so pleased with himself that Arya hates reminding him that the canoe races start today. He slumps over when she does. Gendry’s really not suited to a counselor role, he’s far too anti-social, but he’s quite good at enforcing rules and enforcing them fairly. But the races bring out the most rambunctious and the most competitive among the campers and there are frequently tears and occasionally blood. He spends the days of the races even more sullen than normal.

The day of the semi-final races, Tommen Baratheon flips out of his canoe and doesn’t come back up. A blow of the whistle, and it’s the first actual rescue Arya’s seen happen at camp in years. The air is thick with anticipation, as everyone stays still, buddy arms up, watching the water.

The canoes are still sitting idle when Gendry jumps in and pulls Tommen from the water. He’s limp and pale, and Gendry lays him on the shore, and checks his airway. He hasn’t even had a chance to check his pulse when Tommen coughs and the air thins and everyone can breathe again.

“That was fucking terrifying,” he admits to Arya, “but...sort of exhilarating too.”

“It was exhilarating to watch,” Arya tells him. It’s true, she rarely gets to see him so confident and self-assured. It’s like watching a great athlete play, but Gendry’s never really been able to give half a hoot about competition when they played anything. It’s such a huge change, to see him so... sure of himself. It’s nice, really.

But even afterwards, he’s tense through the end of the races, a tiny bit shaken up by the save.

The night the races end, he looks incredibly relieved. That’s the same night that Shireen whispers to Arya.

“My cabin’s doing a snack raid tonight. You should bring Gendry and help him cheer up.”

That Arya can definitely handle, she’d been so disappointed at the end of first session when Hot Pie hadn’t managed to tell them when any of these were planned.

After campfire, Arya grabs his hand.

“Snack orgy tonight with Shireen’s cabin, give me five minutes to change into my stretchy trousers.”

Snack raids were always an exciting event as a camper. Despite this, Arya is still a bit disappointed in herself that she never realized how carefully they were planned. They not only never got caught, but they always seemed to happen right when there were two or three of the big ten gallon ice cream drums close to their expiration dates. And somehow, the kitchen staff never locked up or put the toppings away.

Not that any of this knowledge stops Arya from loading up her sundae with crushed pineapple and whipped cream.

Shireen’s cabin is young enough that snack raids are an entirely new concept, so thankfully they are too excited by the ice cream to truly cause any real mischief, and keeping an eye on them in the kitchen is easy.

“Y’know, the first time we did this, Sansa was completely convinced we were going to get kicked out if we were caught,” Arya whispers to Shireen while Gendry squirts the can of whipped cream into a camper’s open mouth.

“She always was the rule abiding type,” Gendry adds.

Shireen slumps a bit, her cheeks red.

“I’ve always been like that too.”

The whole group is quiet for a bit, when one of the younger girls approaches with her spoon.

“Will the cold make your face stop hurting?”

Shireen smiles.

“Thank you for thinking of me, Lily, but it’s just scar tissue, it doesn’t hurt.”

Shireen’s eyes drift downward as the girl pads away, and Arya forces her mouth to stay closed but the words start tumbling from Shireen’s mouth regardless.

“Arya, you said you thought the Lord of Light was from Essos, did you ever hear about his followers affinity for fire?”

Arya is frozen, her eyes trailing towards Gendry, who is nearly as still as she is.

“No, no I can’t say I have.”

Shireen’s tilting forward, her bowl of strawberry ice cream sitting at her chin, untouched.

“That’s his follower’s favorite topic, cleansing and blessing by fire. When I was young and my father first started making me go to services with mum, it was all they talked about. Then a new priestess came to Dragonstone, all the way from Asshai. She was different. She didn’t just like talking about it. No matter how short a sermon was, there was always a fire on the altar.”

Next to her, Arya watches Gendry stiffen.

“After that, we had to go to chapel every night, not just on Sundays. We weren’t supposed to do anything else at all it seemed. And her sermons were longer, and bigger. She made people stand up and profess things...and they burned things. At first it was just books and things she insisted were wrong, but then…”

Arya’s mind is racing. She knows the sort of thing Shireen was describing. In history class a few years they’d learned the word. A cult. Arya darts her eyes around trying to see if anyone else is listening, but thankfully the younger girls are chattering away.

Shireen reaches up and touches the side of her face.

“I had chicken pox bad as a kid, it left some nasty scars. My mum used to try and cover it up, but it always stuck out.”

Arya nods.

“I was so upset they got the vaccination like, a year, after I had it.”

She’s desperately trying to lighten the mood. She knows sometimes when people ask about her parents and her past, her words could get sort of heavy. It went with the territory, but Arya’s actually almost frightened of where this goes.

“This priestess, her name was Melisandre. I don’t know if that was her first or last name. She sort of fixated on my scars. Kept saying she would purify me of them.”

Arya’s beginning to shake as she thinks of what could be coming.

“I’d seen her...the chapel had a fire of hot coals. Standing over them was said to purify your breath. She would sometimes call people to the front of the congregation and have them lay their hands on the coals, for what she said was ‘spiritual healing’”.

Shireen’s hugging her middle with both arms now.

“She used to take my father aside and talk to him, and he always came away angry, until one day he didn’t. One day, Melisandre spoke to him, and he led me to the front. I don’t remember thinking anything was strange, until she held the coal to my face.”

Arya’s stomach churns. It’s taking near all her power to keep her sundae down.

“I don’t really remember it that well. I think I must have screamed, but all the rest I remember is the smell. Like cooked meat.”

“That must have been when Mr Davos called emergency services,” Gendry interrupts. Arya frowns slightly, somehow still being able to express further confusion at his response.

Shireen nods.

“I was in hospital for a while, then I went straight into care. The nurses kept going on about how lucky I was not to lose my eye…”

“They like to do that,” Arya interrupts. She has to interrupt. Shireen’s eyes are shining like she’s going to cry and if she cries, Arya won’t be able to stop herself and they’ll have a mess hall full of curious pre-pubescent girls who have magically managed to not hear this terrible story. “When Bran was in hospital after his accident, he said they wouldn’t stop talking about how much worse it could have been.”

Shireen chuckles grimly, but otherwise stays quiet, her eyes squeezed shut. Arya and Gendry both lean forward at about the same time and each hug about half of her. It feels so strange that Arya already knows how to do this with so much grace.

When they walk back, Arya asks Gendry quietly,

“You knew all of this?”

He nods.

“Mr Davos took us in at the same time, he used to be close to her father. He hardly spoke at all when he brought her home from hospital. We had to take her in for appointments regularly after that, for nearly a year. She had to have skin grafts and all that jazz.”

Arya stays silent for a bit.

“How is she dealing with it?”

Gendry pinches his nose and squeezes his eyes shut.

“I don’t think she is. She doesn’t say a word, and last time her parents had supervised visitation, she went completely stony faced for a week, and for another week after the visit. I used to think it was just to deal with the media- there was a fair amount for about a week on TV down in the Crownlands about the ‘mad rich people cult’ down in Dragonstone before something else took over. That’s why I let her keep going, because she never talks at all about it.”

Arya sighs. She knows that too well, sucking all your feelings in and keeping them inside until they threaten to explode.

“I should tell her to talk to Bran,” Arya says, thinking, “He was always the only one of us who was good at feelings, I think his cabin’s up for archery rankings in a few days, I’ll have to ask him while we’re at that.”

Arya chuckles. And if talking doesn’t help, shooting things might, even if it involves sacrificing one of her precious days off.

Arya has hardly seen Meera this past week because she’s been setting things up. The Mormont girl who’s her junior this year looks the same as every other Mormont. Arya has missed archery a lot, it’s not something she can exactly practice at home.

For added fun, it turns out Bran can still draw and shoot even without dropping the arm of his chair.

Bran tells her he’s spoken with Shireen a bit at meals and when their cabins share activities. Arya asks him if Shireen has talked to him at all about her past.

“Just little bits here and there, I never wanted to pry.”

“I’m not telling you to pry but...Gendry says he thinks she really needs to talk to someone.”

“Y’know of all the things I thought would be different after the accident, I never thought that it would make people talk to me about everything. At this point they should just give me a therapist’s license.”

Arya feels a smile quirk at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s because they know you can’t run away.”

There’s a brief lull when Meera pauses to announce the current rankings. Arya watches Bran’s eyes linger a bit on her and can’t resist the urge to tease.

“Still?” she asks.

Bran sighs.

“Still.”

The summer before the Starks had first come to Camp Durrandon, Meera and her brother Jojen had both spent the summer up north with them, their father having been an old friend of Ned’s.

“At least we don’t have to fight over her attention anymore.” Arya comments. Not that they’d ever really wanted the same sort of attention from Meera. Being twelve to Arya’s ten and Bran’s nine, she hadn’t paid either of them any mind that year, choosing instead to spend the summer trying to climb every tree on the grounds of Winterfell, and very nearly succeeding.

Something pricks at the back of Arya’s mind and she asks.

“Has she been being kind of distant lately or is it just me?”

Bran turns and cocks his head in Arya’s direction, his face disbelieving.

“Well it is her last summer here, I think it would be pretty normal to be a little sad.”

Arya’s eyebrows fly up into her hairline. Her mind had somehow skipped over that fact.

“I don’t think I even processed that. Her not being here with us will be so strange.”

Bran shrugs.

“Well it’s not like the conservation corps have summer holidays. It’ll be three years until she returns to civilization full time.”

Bran’s ears are a little pink, and it suddenly hits Arya that he and Meera are only one year further apart than her and Gendry.

“You ever think of telling her?”

“I don’t know what good it would do, especially now. Maybe I’ll tell when she gets back.”

“Do you think you’ll still feel that way after three whole years?”

Bran’s eyes get the strange, old look they get sometimes when he’s thinking hard. Mum had once laughed and said Bran seemingly had a soul a thousand years older than him.

“I mean, I didn’t think I would still feel this way now. I thought I would grow up and my feelings would fade. That’s the way it always goes in films. But I haven’t.”

Arya smiles, and pats Bran on the shoulder.

“You see? Things like this are why I say you’re better at feelings than me.”

It doesn’t take much prodding for Bran to agree to talk to Shireen more when their cabins do activities together, and by the end of the rankings, Arya places rather well considering she hasn’t shot in years.

That night, in their cabin, Arya ambushes Meera with a hug. Ygritte’s gone to the tuck shop to buy some more paper, but she hasn’t mentioned if she’d written Jon back yet. Regardless, it leaves Arya and Meera alone.

“M’sorry, I didn’t even realize you might not be coming back next summer.”

Meera still, but laughs.

“It’s okay. I’ve not tried to think about it too much either. It’s all so big...no more summer holidays, no more exams, no more uniforms with skirts and ties.”

Arya chuckles and tries not to be glad that the system in Winterfell didn’t require uniforms after junior school.

“I think that’s part of the reason I always liked coming here so much. It’s like all the rest of the world disappears for three months.”

And Arya realizes that’s so much of the reason why she loves it here too.

And she realizes the next day at the kickball tournament that second session is one day away from ending.

She’s in the stands with most of the camp, watching Shireen’s cabin going against Myrcella Baratheon’s, and only half paying attention when she realizes Ygritte and Sansa to her side are spiritedly debating as to the baseball euphemisms.

“I’m just saying,” Sansa starts, “Doesn’t it basically imply that lesbians can never hit a home run?”

Arya snorts.

“Well I didn’t come up with the thing,” Ygritte responds, “You like girls, make your own metaphor.”

“Maybe that means that you can still go to Mum’s church on Maiden’s Day with a clear conscience,” Arya teases Sansa, “Since according to this bit of common knowledge you have no way of not being a virgin.”

Sansa huffs.

“The bases are sort of vague,” Arya continues, “especially since I’ve only ever heard them described as second being above the waist and third being below.”

“True,” Ygritte agrees, “I mean, a fella touching your chest through your sweater isn’t quite the same as being stripped to the waist and him sucking your chest full of love bites.”

The back of Arya’s neck goes pink, and later that night when her and Gendry are on the ground behind the equipment shed again.

A few nights ago, he’d snaked one hand up her shirt and gently begun to tug on her nipples. Tonight it only takes a little convincing to make him duck his head and experimentally take one between his lips.

Second base, head first, Arya thinks with a giggle. Looking up at her, Gendry’s eyes have a mischievous twinkle, one she hasn’t seen on him a lot.

“Something gotten into you tonight?”

Arya reaches out and runs her hand along the side of his face, fingers catching on the slight hint of a beard he doesn’t bother shaving out here.

“Just thinking about some things.”

“Good things?”

Arya tugs on his ear to pull him up into a kiss before responding.

“Mostly.”

She’s thinking about how good this feels, how nice Gendry looks in the moonlight. She’s thinking of sports euphemisms and the hide and seek game tomorrow. She is pointedly not thinking of Ygritte’s letter and Meera’s job. And she is definitely not thinking about summer being almost over.

[bonnieisaway]

lost my discretion

cough ow this is really bad but here’s chp 4 to my shit saiki k x reader

tw for mentions of kidnapping

chapter two | chapter three | wattpad link

"S-Saiki..?" (L/n) asks, shakily as she sits on the ground behind the boy. He had suddenly appeared out of thin air, separating the girl and the body in front of Saiki. "Wh-wha...h-how did you..?"

He had teleported, obviously, but the weeping girl behind him didn't necessarily understand. Saiki cursed himself under his breath. There wasn't any way to get out of this one.

Saiki sighed in frustration. It was a simple Saturday morning, but something was annoying. He had had the same stupid prophetic dream and headache ever since the night where (L/n) had walked him home. It was weird, and why he had been assuming his powers were off lately, because usually there was't that much of a gap between when his dreams happened and, well, when it actually happened. The volcano- as much as he hated to think about it- didn't count really, it was only so long ago because he had rewound the Earth fuck knows how many times.

The answer was 6. But, we don't talk about that.

He had no choice but to shake it off as his mother called him down for breakfast. Walking down the stairs he tried his best to clear his mind, sitting at the table and ignoring the idle chatter his mother and father started.

(L/n) was a strange girl. Everything about her seemed contradictory. She was average, yet unique in a way that seemed to keep Saiki guessing, somehow- it felt like there were parts of her unknown. Which was odd, since, he could literally read her mind. Hell, even from where he sat now, if he tried hard enough he could hear her thoughts.

Or, well, dreams. She liked to sleep in.

Regardless, that wasn't all. She carried herself as if she was nothing special- and even then acknowledged by some very wrong people as such- but she was talented and beautiful. An average girl who was unique. Part of Saiki supposed everyone was like that, really. Another part of him supposed there was something different. Other than that that hid within her that he was curious of.

Very rarely was Saiki curious. Very rarely did people manage to hide things from Saiki Kusuo.

Of course, there were things like Nendo, and bugs, that were completely unreadable. But you were complex. He heard your thoughts, yes, but you never turned to stone without his glasses and his x-ray vision never worked on you. It was, well, confusing. Emotions that Saiki didn't necessarily understand.

"Ku, are you alright? You haven't touched your food..." Saiki's mother, Kurumi, fretted.

Saiki blinked for a second. He had zoned out. "Yes... I'm fine.." He sighs, finally picking up his spoon and digging into his coffee jelly. Who needed anything else? Coffee jelly makes all your problems go away.

What? Don't look at him like that. You're reading an x reader fanfiction. He can use coffee jelly as a stress coping mechanism all he wants.

Kurumi looks at his doubtfully before sighing. 'I really do hope he's okay..' Her thoughts echoed. Saiki sighed, finishing his food and excusing himself from the table, walking back up to his room.

He figured he'd read a book. Play that one game he never finished. Something enjoyable. he doesn't want to waste a perfectly fine Saturday fretting about nothing.

°·.¸.·°¯°·.,.·°¯°·.¸.°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.

As you woke up slowly, you heard your phone vibrate on the stand next to your bed. You sighed. Who wanted what this early in the morning..? You rubbed your eyes with one hand and grabbed the phone with the other.

Oh. It's 1pm. It's not that early. You just really, really like sleep. You unlock your phone, which is an unholy level of bright, to find a text from an unfamiliar number

???

Heey! I got your number from Chiopipi.

...Who, got it from Teryukoko.. ehhe..

(Y/n)

..uh.. who's this??

???

Oh, sorry! It's Aiura Mikoto.

I'm in ur class?? lol

(Y/n)

oh! you're the gyaru with the crystal ball right??

Aiura Mikoto

That's me! haha

Teryukoko was planning to have all us girls hang at her house tmrw

Her brother's gonna be out of town and her parents are off on some business trip

So it's just us

You in???

(Y/n)

..yeah sure why not

Aiura Mikoto

Lit!!! I'll text you the details tmrw

Read, 1:32pm

.

You set your phone down on your bedside table again and sighed. Well, that was your plans for tomorrow. But you had absolutely nothing to do today. You eyed your bag in the corner of the room.

Nope. Absolutely nothing. Nada. None.

You swung your legs over your bed and sat up, head dizzying and vision blurring momentarily from the swiftness of the motion. You sighed, standing and walking off..you had to take care of yourself, for once. Get dressed, brush your hair, your teeth, blah blah... you get the point.

The day goes by slowly, a steady day of jamming to your tunes and doing work. And totally not watching Netflix. Nope. But eventually the steadily changing light of the sun setting begins to noticeably change the lighting of your living room until the sun is still barely left straddling the horizon.

You stare out the window until you turn, grabbing your shoes and hoodie, slipping them on and grabbing your keys and phone as you leave your apartment, locking it behind you. You weren't sure why.. but something told you to go outside. Take a walk. Vibe in the loneliness of the playground. You'd be fine, I mean, Japan has an awfully low crime rate, doesn't it?

Yeah.. It does.. you remember your mother hovering over your shoulder as you researched the country while still in America. Your father nonchalant about the decision but inside he cared. A lot. His baby would move across the world. Your sister, jealous but proud. You were always the smarter of the two. She was an adrenaline junkie who valued smarts last.

Walking along the empty and quiet streets oddly reminded you of her. She was a type of girl who would run down these streets screaming for some demon to come eat her ass while you laughed in disappointment behind her. Sometimes, if you close your eyes hard enough..

Sometimes you could see her running.  

Sometimes, when you closed your eyes, you saw the day you lost them instead. It's hard to shake.. your bruised and broken sister holding your hand in a hospital bed as heart dropped and the doctors came in like a SWAT team.

It was really hard to shake that thought away from your head.

You had lost your family a while ago now. Just before you started your first year at PK Academy. See, the original plan was you were going to study at PK and live in Japan while your family in America dealt with most expenses. When they died, there was a new plan offered, mainly out of sympathy. Your living situation was paid by the school as you attended. As long as you kept your grades high, they would pay. Once you were out of PK Academy, then you're on your own.

You shook the thought from your head- or at least tried- as you arrived at your destination, the playground. You kicked rocks littered around under the light of the light post that's near.  You're not really sure why you came here. Nostalgia? Wanting to vibe? Bored? Who knew.

It's when you're staring up at the cloudy night sky you feel a tight grip on your wrist, causing you to nearly scream before snapping around. It's a man, obviously older than you, accompanied by his friend, grinning happily.

"Hey, you lost, girlie?" He asks, curiously. You shake your head furiously, mind racing. You did not want to die. Nor get kidnapped. Or anything else like that. "What are you doing out here all alone? It's late, you know."

You don't respond. His grip tightens, and you know it's going to leave a mark. "Let me go."

"You didn't answer my question." His face falls. His buddy behind him pulls up his hood, obscuring his already shadowy face. You feel yourself tremble, and when you look down, you see your fingers shaking like an earthquake tremor.

"I don't have to." You argue, tugging against his grip. "Let me go." You keep a stern face but you're panicking. You want to scream. Cry. You tell yourself you're stronger than this- hell, you work out with fucking Hairo sometimes, of all people, and everything is telling you to knee this man straight where the sun doesn't shine and run away but the fear has you rooted still.

There's a second, where he's going to say something back, and you feel him start to raise your arm up so he can tug you closer, but it stops when a certain force appears suddenly between you and the man, plus his friend, knocking you away and promptly letting you fall on your ass. Ouchie.  

You stare up at the object and when you recognize the stature, the bright pink hair, and weird hairpins, you realize it's Saiki. "S-Saiki..?" You ask, staring up at him.  "Wh-wha...h-how did you..?"

He turns his head back towards the two men, both as shocked as you are. "Close your eyes." He tells you, and you can't tell if it's soft or stern. A wavering mix of both. You listen to him, and when you're given the signal to open them, both men are gone.

"Whe-"

"Don't ask." He spins his body to you and holds out a hand. You shakily take it, and he pulls you to your feet effortlessly. You're shaking so much you can't help but fall forwards to his chest and he lets you, letting you rest for a second.

"..Thank you.." You mutter.

°·.¸.·°¯°·.,.·°¯°·.¸.°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.

You sat on the swing, swinging your legs quietly. Saiki had pulled you out of his chest and when he was going to say something you asked that he didn't- that he just stayed with you here. You knew it was nonsensical, asking to stay, but you felt safer when he was with you all of a sudden. Your phone lay under your feet softly playing music and Saiki sat on the swing next to you. It was quiet- a kind of quiet where you couldn't decipher comfort or a still, awkward feeling.

You hesitate, briefly. "How did you...?" The question drifts, before you clear your throat, trying again. "How did you just appear out of nowhere?"

Saiki doesn't respond. He sat still as a statue on his swing, compared to yours, drifting back and fourth slowly, the occasional creek of the swing an undecipherable melody. It's a minute before you speak again.

"You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to." You look away from him and kick your feet at the ground. "..How did you know to come?"

A moment of hesitation follows, before all you hear is a quiet "precognition." It's not part of an unheard sentence, and he won't add anything more, you can tell- it's all he's willing to momentarily share. You accept the answer, humming along to your phone- quietly letting unfamiliar songs drift from the phone. He stands, suddenly, the chain of the swing jingling as the weight leaves.

"I'll take you home." He says, offering a hand. "It's late."

"It can't be.. that late." You look up at him.

"It's 2am." He argues. You sigh and hang your head, muttering an apology as you pick up your phone.

You place your hand in his, and this time it feels different. Tender and understanding, but somewhere you know he's upset that you nearly got yourself killed. You blink, and you're in your apartment, with a nauseating feeling. What the fu-

"Goodnight, (L/n)."

You hesitate. "..'night, Saiki."

He dissapears.

For a fleeting moment, your day feels like a blurry dream- you stare at your hand, steadily counting a precise 5 fingers. You're awake. You're tired, and crave your bed, but you're awake.

The pitter-patter of your feet is all you hear in your quiet apartment before you kick closed the door to your bedroom. It was late now, and if you'd ever fall asleep was a gamble.

°·.¸.·°¯°·.,.·°¯°·.¸.°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.·°¯°·.¸.

[blackasteriia]

Apparently it is a birthday. Apparently that means they must celebrate. (People are weird.) Kane will make her a cake. And Taker... well. He'll finish what he stared pre-burial. Surprise?

Hap Birth–

Three weeks ago Xion buried George Dalton. A middling-age tax accountant that died of terminal pancreatic cancer. When he was twenty-five he won a major cycling tour and never did anything interesting after. He had thinning white hair and his family wanted him dressed in a black suit. Except for having to trim his mustache, the man was unmemorable to Xion. Despite being afflicted with a boring life George was a man of generosity. The visitors at his viewing talked about him with genuine admiration, respect, and tears in their eyes. One-hundred-and-three people visited George Dalton before Xion stuck him in a box somewhere out in a Western plot of the yard. Shoulder-to-shoulder, chattering, eating the catering food while she did homework in the kitchen. It was the most alive the funeral home had been in months. In a few hours it was as hallow as George’s chest cavity. 

Xion shouldered open the backdoor. She stomped-out the dust in her boots and emerged into the dark, empty kitchen. She had cleaned-out the signs of all those people weeks ago– trash in the garbage can, swept, disinfected, reorganized the furniture, and removed an orange juice stain from the carpet. The house settled on its frame with a low groan. Birds chirped outside the windows. No foot steps or distant voices. However, breakfast dishes piled beside the sink and there was a pan on the cold stove. A chair pulled-out from the kitchen table. Despite it just being her and the dead bodies in the fridge, it looked lived on. Xion washed the plate and pan, left both on the drying rack. She dried her hands on the dish towel and left the way she came. 

Encouraged by the Spring rains, grass sprouted in the yard. Dandelions made a serious contention for flourishing despite the threat of the lawnmower. With a little extra water and warmer winds, the bushes flowered. Not a cloud in the sky and the arid scent of the sands promised a heated day. Xion walked along the side of the house, shoes dampened by the morning dew. The doors to the workshop were left open to let in light and fresh air. She shoved her hands in her pockets and stepped inside. Xion blinked as her vision adjusted to the low light. 

“‘Taker?” She called, glancing over the power tools, tables, and bikes. Movement near the back drew her gaze. He knelt beside a bike, hair tied back, and hands covered in grease. Xion wandered into the workshop. “I’m going to Laredo today to run some errands and get those cosmetics you need for the Holler fami– Holy shit?!”

Xion’s train of thought derailed, crashed and burned. ‘Taker worked on a medium-size motorcycle with the repurposed and repainted frame of a Harley sportster. For the past two months Xion had ordered and scavenged the parts needed for the design. Stuff a sleek Harley design with a Japanese engine for more power and efficiency. Alter the wheel and chain for more torque. Lower the seat for better balance and control. Following the notes and ideas ‘Taker outlined before his death. Left on his night stand for her to find by accident. He never got to build it, so she might as well. It was a design too cool to never realize. And admittedly, in the excitement of ‘Taker-isn’t-dead-anymore’ she forgot about it. 

The real twist was that ‘Taker got to finish it after all.

“When did you–” Xion circled around the bike. In her mind she compared the notes and the sketches to the real thing. Saw all the ways his vision differed from hers, how the idea never compared to the execution. “You built this in two weeks?”

“After I finally found the notes you stole,” ‘Taker pushed to his feet. He wiped the grease off his hands with a rag. 

“I didn’t steal them, I found them and you weren’t there to stop me,” Xion muttered. She knelt beside the bike and inspected the engine. That was the part she was most uncertain of: making an entire bike out of spare parts. She’d have misplaced something and the damn thing wouldn’t start. Made her wish she was here to see him do it. Xion glanced-up, ‘Taker lifted an eyebrow. “Also you were dead and someone had to do your laundry. This looks incredible, I don’t know what to say.”

“You gonna try it our or what?” ‘Taker asked, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t rush me when I’m admiring your handiwork,” Xion grumbled. She reached for the handle bars, leaning her balance on the front of the bike. Xion swung her leg over the back and settled into the seat. “I think the most impressive part is you were able to build this bike and get eight hours of sleep a night. That’s really impressive, daddy.”

“I took naps,” ‘Taker said. He smoothed his hand over his jaw. Contemplation read in the furrow of his brow. 

“Dirt nap doesn’t count,” Xion quipped.

“You got taller,” he noted. Xion flashed him a grin, all teeth. ‘Taker knelt beside her right knee and fiddled with the pedal under her foot. “Length good? You can reach the ground alright?”

“I ain’t that short,” Xion drawled. It was his turn to grin, suppressed with a roll of his lip between his teeth. “It’s fine daddy– let’s go ahead and run it. I wanna hear what the engine sounds like.”

‘Taker unhooked a carabiner with a bike key looped through it from his front belt loop. Dangling off his finger he dropped the key into her waiting palm. Xion kicked the bike up into neutral and turned the ignition. The engine caught and then rolled to life. Low and clean, it purred; mirroring with the laughter building in her chest. Gentle and slow, she revved the engine, rolling back the throttle and feeding it a little gas. Quick and responsive, biting but not too loud. Xion put the brake on and removed the key to turn it back off. 

“That good enough for you?” ‘Taker asked. He ruffled her hair, sliding his hand down between her shoulders. 

“It’s perfect,” Xion said. “Better than I imagined, thank you--”

“Once you’ve tried it out proper, you can thank me and tell me how good it is,” ‘Taker cut her off. “It’s your bike, you can do whatever you like with it. After you ride to Laredo today we can make any adjustments you think it needs. Make sure it suits you like it should.”

“I was going to ask if you need anything besides the cosmetics,” Xion asked. She dismounted the bike. ‘Taker took one side of the handlebars and she the other. Together they pushed the bike out of the workshop. A brush of wind struck her cheeks and played with their hair. 

“Nah, you just be careful,” ‘Taker told her. “Lemme know when you’re on your way back.”

“Will do,” Xion promised, she leaned over the bike to hug him. “See you in a couple hours.”

In twenty minutes Xion cruised down the highway just over the speed limit, headed West. Between gears Xion coasted down flattened hills and tested the acceleration on the straight-aways. Cows lifted their head as she passed their pastures and stared her down while she idled at stoplights. The horizon was a long line, broken by farm houses and stands of trees meeting with the sky. Strips of sand, palm trees, and risen desert outcrops dotted the landscape.

Laredo arose in the hills. A sprawling border city of concrete and asphalt cut in half by the Rio Grande. Sparse trees grew out of the concrete, the streets warmed with the cloistering of buildings and bodies. On a Monday morning few wandered the sidewalks. Xion ran her errands, picked-up the cosmetics from the beauty store and the few things Aeleus needed. As noon approached the sun arced overhead and wind rushed the city streets. The bell jingled as Xion entered the bookstore, hidden in the shade of a side street. The clerk procured the textbooks Xion ordered. After perusing the aisles but making no other purchases, Xion emerged back out onto the sidewalk. 

She stepped off the curb and approached where she parked her bike beneath a popular tree. A small white box rested on the seat of the bike. Xion shifted her burden from her hands, securing the bags in the rear compartment. She picked-up the box, felt its weight. Xion popped the lid. Inside was a cake for one, covered in smooth white frosting, chocolate shavings, and adorned with a card.’Red velvet,’ it read. Xion looked-up and down the street. She closed the lid, corners of her mouth pulling into a grin.

Daddy built her bike and she got a cake for her birthday after all.

[rizzmonaflowers]

A dream I had

I had a dream a long while ago and its recently came back to my memory, my friends like to joke that I vist other dimensions in my dreams because there so surreal and have such detail but that's besides the point. I keep thinking of the life I was living in the dream and it's weird so I wanted to recite the dream to the best of my ability because it has been roughly a years. Mind you I dont remember any faces or names so anything I cant recall will be replaced with ???. This is gonna be real rough because I want to get it down fast.

I woke up in a bedroom, an unfamiliar one at that. Someone is shaking me and gently speaking to me, "Sweetie get up I made breakfast, ??? And ??? Are downstairs already." Looking around the room I take in the furniture and decor and the woman who woke me up, she had bright red hair most likely dyed. I couldnt tell you any details about her face but I remember she had a really gentle smile, though I had no clue who she was. "I'll be down stairs, dont take to long now haha." Leaving my side she exited the room. I proceeded to get up and look around, I remember looking in a mirror at one point and the only thing I can remember was that I was my natural blonde again compared to now were my hairs dyed black. I remember finding a wedding ring on "my" night stand as well which I put on cautiously, exiting the bedroom I entered a hall and I could see kids rooms to my left which had both doors wide open both really girly. To my right a bathroom and stairs so I descended and entered a living room, turning to my right again I entered a kitchen and saw 2 girls both under 10 was my guess. Both were eating at a counter top they called me mom though once again I had no clue who they were but I was starting to put the pieces together, the woman was my wife and I have two daughters. I remember only really feeling confusion, it didnt help that I had no clue who I was I mean I assumed I was me but how old was I? My job? What day was it? I started to get really nearous but my wife simply smiled and handed me a plate of food and smiled again, "You better eat fast dont want to be late for work." I had idle chatter with my "family" which was very clunky and awkward to my memory but I cant recall what we talked about exactly. Eventually It came time for me to get ready for work and my wife kissed my forehead and wished me luck. That's the last thing I remember.

I'm probably missing some details here and there but I've been thinking about my "wife" like I wonder if she really "exists" you know??? Its weird to think about but it was such a vivid dream to me. Like is that my future?? Or is it all something my brain made up??? I kinda just wanted to let it out really .

[spooky-raccoon]

Road Trip (Part 3)

Rufo the Clown x Female Reader

Part 3 to Road Trip

Tag List: @rottenhearts-and-sharpteeth @trig-loves-clowning-around

        The alarm on the nightstand sounded off and with a loud groan coming from him I heard him press the button to shut it off.  My eyes were slowly blinking open so I could adjust to the sunlight that had come in through the curtains.  With a grunt I sat up in bed and ran a hand through my disheveled bedhead. Rufo flopped back onto the bed with a huff.

         “Not a morning person I take it?”  I couldn’t help but chuckle as I listened to his morning protests of grunts and low groans as if he was asking for just a few more minutes.

        “Not a dang bit.  Never have been one.”  He yawned out and rolled over onto his side to face me.  “I’ll be up in a bit and we can hit the road again.  Grab some free breakfast on the way out.”

        “Take your time.  I’m going to fix myself, so I look like I didn’t just survive a tornado.”  I flung the blanket off me and got up from the bed, hearing Rufo chuckle under his breath.  

        It didn’t take too long for him to fall back asleep.  My eyes lingered on how he looked, the blanket just sitting at his waist.  The morning light hitting his skin only emphasized how his ab muscles looked.

        “Thought you said you were going to get ready.”  I heard him mumble then chuckle just ever so slightly and my face turned red in embarrassment.

         “Yeah, just, uh, waking up and stretching a bit.”  I quickly did an arm stretch as I turned on my heel to head to the bathroom to make myself look a little more presentable for the day. I leaned over the sink and splashed some water on my face.  “The hell (Y/N).  Get it together.  He’s a stranger.  Just a really attractive stranger.  That’s it.”

        I focused back on getting ready for the day.  Washed my face, brushed my hair and made it a little more manageable with my straightener that I was thankful I had packed away.  I didn’t even hear Rufo get up until his footsteps got closer to the bathroom.  He walked in, his wavy hair still looking perfect despite sleeping like a baby.  He leaned over the counter as I was brushing my teeth, looking over the slight bags under each of his eyes.  He reached into his own little bag that he had tossed on the counter the night before, pulling out a toothbrush and some toothpaste.  He was humming along to some sort of song as he brushed at his teeth. From how yesterday went it was nice to have a small peaceful moment.

         With Rufo working on brushing his teeth I got dressed for the day back at the beds.  Just a pair of jeans and a comfy t shirt.  Rufo came back out in a pair of slacks and a button up shirt which made me raise my brow.

         “Always dress so nice, Rufo?  Or got a hot date to get to tonight?”  I joked which cracked a smile on his tired face.

        “Just the way I like to dress doll.  Only wear jeans if I’m doing some dirty work.  At least anywhere I go I’m always fashionable.”  He laughed while pulling at the collar of his shirt to straighten it.

       “And here I am looking like a potato next to you.”  I chuckled as I sat myself down on the bed to get my socks and shoes on.  I could see a look of confusion on his face.

       “A potato?  What do you mean by that?”  He sat opposite of me so he too could get his socks and shoes on.

        “Meaning, I’m not really up to the same standard as you for attire and looks.  I’m just dressed plain and pretty bland.  Didn’t even put any makeup on so I’m not how I usually look.”  I shrugged, not giving it too much thought.

       “(Y/N), you look completely fine.  You don’t need any makeup.  Too much makeup and you look like a floozy.”  Rufo shook his head, a little bit of annoyance on his face which didn’t help the morning bags under his eyes.  “And you’re dressed for a vacation.  I’m dressed for a job waiting for me.  Don’t you worry your pretty little head about how you look.”  Rufo stood up and he towered over me as he took the small step to be right in front of me.  “I ain’t going to hear no more of you putting yourself down as long as I’m your passenger, am I?”

       “I, uh.”  I was baffled if I was going to completely honest.  An attractive stranger complimenting me and reassuring me was something I wasn’t used to.  It hadn’t happened before or I at least couldn’t remember the last time it happened.

       “Am I?”  Rufo raised a brow and suddenly he gripped my chin between some of his fingers and thumb. His hold was unexpected, and I fought the strange feeling that bubbled up inside me.

       “No, you won’t Rufo.  Promise.”  My back hurt from holding back the shiver and the annoyed look dropped from his face to be replaced by a wide smile.

       “That’s the spirit doll.  Now, let’s go get some breakfast.  I could use some coffee.”  Rufo went to collect his jacket and with the blush still on my face I got up to collect the rest of my things.

        “Yeah, coffee sounds good.”  Was all I could mutter as we wrapped up the room and left to go enjoy the free breakfast downstairs.

       The breakfast was quiet and when I caught glances at Rufo he had a hint of a smile on his face each time.  It was my turn to drive us a bit further, so I took the helm. I still let him choose the music as I focused on the unfamiliar roads as my phone guided me through them.  For a few hours’ things seemed to be going well until the same dinging of the low gas tank went off.  We pulled off to the gas station and Rufo went inside to go pay for the full tank I had put in along with some snacks.  Things had definitely calmed down from the day before and it was a relief.

       While Rufo was gone though there was a strange pull on me.  Like something was tugging on me to go into my purse to find that card.  So, I did.  I was humming to myself and not paying too much attention to the world around me as I looked the card over to see the number on it.  As soon as I took my phone out though Rufo had gotten out of the gas station with the small bag of drinks and assorted things to nibble on.

       “Aye doll!”  Rufo’s voice broke through the weird fog of my mind and I looked up to him, giving him a small wave.  Rufo came walking up and saw the card in my hand and his smile dropped.  “So, he gave you one of those damn things.”  He snatched the card from my hand and despite my surprise protest he ripped it to shreds and tossed the remains in the garbage can.  “Come on. We got some sights to see, don’t we?”

        I blinked a few times as my mind came back. Once my head registered what he said I couldn’t help but grin and nod.  We had planned to stop to see some of the hiking trails in a park I had mapped out.  The thought of the card lost from my mind.  

       “Then let’s get going.  Can’t waste this good day light.”  Rufo chuckled as if everything was fine and he got the door open for me so I could take over the driving.

        With both of us buckled up we took off, making idle chatter and listening to him tell stories about his travels and the sights he had seen.  He had been all over the country countless times that I was surprised he had missed so many things when I brought them up.  Just more things added to the list of things we could do on the way to where he needed to go.  As long as they fit into the schedule of course though he didn’t seem to be in too much of a rush.  No matter what he seemed rather relaxed, no care to be found.

        We pulled up to the national park and found a good parking spot so the car would be in shade most of the time while we were hiking.  Rufo carried the little pack that had our water and some snacks and soon we took one of the popular trails.  The day was beautiful and all around us nature was buzzing with life.  We didn’t do much talking as we went, just enjoying the sights and sounds that we came across.

       It took an hour or so, but we made it up to the top of the trail.  There was a smoothed-out rock that looked over the cliff side, so we decided to settle there for our little snack session.  I had my legs hanging off the edge as I looked out at the view.  It was truly beautiful, especially as the sun was starting to set off the side.  Rufo was seated beside me with his legs over the edge as well, munching on a granola bar and taking sips from his water.

      “Been to so many places yet things like this still take my breath away.”  Rufo said as he tucked away his trash back into the bag.  “It’s amazing all the things I haven’t seen yet.”

        “And life is so short to see them all.”  I sighed a little at the end and I took out my phone so I could take some pictures of the view ahead of us.  I had an idea and had the camera view flip around, so it was in selfie mode.  “Hey, Rufo.”

        “Yeah doll?”  Rufo looked over at me with a raised eyebrow.

        “Take a picture with me.”  I had the phone lifted up and my body tilted so the camera had both of us in view.  I chuckled when we both weren’t in frame all that well.  Even though he was hunched over a little bit.  “This is when I wish I was taller with some longer limbs.”

         “Here.”  Rufo chuckled as he took the phone, giving it a confused look when he examined the screen. “What button do I push on this thing to take a picture?”

         “Right here.”  I showed him where on the screen to tap and he nodded, leaning in close to my back which made my heart skip a few beats.  With his long arms he was able to get us both well enough.  He still couldn’t quite tell where to tap for taking a picture, but he managed to get a couple of us both smiling with the sky giving the perfect background.  “There ya go doll.”

         Once we finished our snacks we took back down the trail to get back to the car.  We didn’t pass by many people on the way but enough to put some paranoia back into Rufo it seemed.  His hand rested on my lower back as to make me hurry down the trail until we got back to the car.  With a bit of talking we agreed to stay in hotel again as long as he promised the next night would be in a park.  I let him drive and we went off to find some place to eat and rest for the night.  

         During the drive to find a place to stay Rufo asked things about me, asking what I did, what I wanted to do.  Hopes and dreams and the like.  I couldn’t help but to admit I really didn’t have many, if any at all.  I only talked fondly about my desire to travel the country in a little supped up van but that was it..  I went on about how I just worked at my desk job day in and day out with no excitement to make life more than mundane.

       “Wasting away behind a desk?  Doesn’t sound like much of a life.”  Rufo scoffed as he shook his head.

        “It’s not really.  Just work, work, and more work.  Once in a while I read, or I’ll try to do something that isn’t just errands. Never been on a vacation until now.” I sighed as I looked over to him, the tiredness in my eyes getting more prominent.

        “And here I am, taking it over with you getting me to where I need to be.”  There was a bit of a guilty look on his face and I playfully tapped him on the arm in a mocking hit.

         “Oh, don’t start that Rufo.  I’m glad you asked me.  Sure, it’s nice to do things alone but some things are better experienced with someone by your side and share memories.  Right now, you’re that person I get to share with.  Even if it’s just for a short time.  I’ll probably never see you again after everything so that just makes it all the more special.”  I insisted with a shake of my head.  “I want you to stick around as long as you can.”

        Rufo was quiet for a moment.  Once in a while his brow would furrow and there was a slight twitch at the corner of his lip.  After a little bit he looked over at me as he spoke to me.

        “Thank you, (Y/N).  Means a lot.”  The corner of his lips now turned up into a soft smile as he went back to paying attention to the road.  

         With that I got back to keeping an eye out for a hotel.  There was an odd stillness in the air from our little exchange and I could see a thoughtful look on Rufo’s face.  After a little bit he put in a Frank Sinatra CD and we got lost in the moment to the music, singing along and enjoying the company.

[wroughtbetwixtfanfic]

A Memory Of The Smell of Smoke, Ch 5.

Fandom: The Society.

Summary: Everyone liked to pretend that Campbell had been born bad. That their fear and hatred were logical, rational, justified, because Campbell was a monster incapable of making the choice between good and evil. Because he couldn’t feel the way they did. Well, fuck that. He was gonna prove them wrong. At least, that had been the plan.

Rating: Mature.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Pre-Canon, Emotional Baggage, Mental Health Issues, Child Abuse, Substance Abuse, Animal Death, Complicated Relationships, Pre-Slash, Denial of Feelings, Antisocial Personality Disorder, Implied Rape, Campbell has mild ASPD and is self aware enough to try and be better, the non-con is NOT Campbell, didn’t add an official warning because it is the aftermath only, yes it is the party becca mentioned and there will be a warning in the notes of that chapter, Campbell/Harry, Campbell/Elle.

Word Count: 4601 (chapter 5/5).

Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3 || Ch 4 || AO3

Then again, they do say that things get worse before they get better.

For  whatever reason, Becca stopped talking to Campbell. He tried to text her to see if she was alright, but his number was blocked. He tried to talk to her, but she kept on walking. It would have been all too easy to  get pissed off over it, but he shrugged and carried on with life. Perhaps she was embarrassed, or ashamed. Perhaps she wanted to pretend it never happened. Maybe it had been a really bad high. Who knew? But she wanted nothing to do with him, either way, and he didn't waste his time on people that obviously wanted him gone. Caring cost too much energy for that.

The end of the school year play was an adaptation of the film Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead.  Cassandra, of course, decided to try out. It was more surprising that Harry tried out, too. Naturally, they both got the lead roles. And why wouldn't they? Cassandra had always been an amazing actress, and now that Harry had cleaned up his image to make himself the cute goody-two-shoes co-captain of the debate team in order to be more appealing to Kelly, it made sense that he'd charm his way in.

Campbell  didn't need to worry about that. He got recruited to help with the set,  and that was fine. It was something to pass the time, as always, and  Elle was often there to help with choreography. It was a nice, long  distraction. By the time rehearsals were over, they had two weeks left  until prom and three until graduation; it was so close to being over that Campbell could taste it, and damn it was good. The play itself would shave one week off, and everyone would be too busy going bananas over prom that they wouldn't have time for much idle gossip.

Perfect.

Or,  at least, it would have been perfect. Just before the opening night of  the play, something began to smell. Literally. Campbell was hanging out  with a few of the drama club kids he'd met through the play, the five of  them sharing a few orders of fries after a long day of getting the  stage ready for the big event. They were on their way out when Campbell  caught a whiff of what smelled like rotting flesh. He gagged, covering  his nose with his sleeve, and soon the other teen were coughing as well.

"What  the fuck is that?" demanded Elaine, a chunky girl with bright pink  hair, ripped jeans, and an MCR shirt. "Jesus christ, Henry, I told you  not to go for the chili fries."

Henry, a scrawny blond, made a noise of complaint. "It's not me!"

"The  wind is coming from the northeast," Campbell interrupted as everyone began to blame each other. "It's probably in the wood somewhere. A sewer  leak or something."

Everyone quieted down and agreed, but the  smell only got worse and worse as the evening went on. The next morning,  Campbell and Sam came downstairs to find their living room filled up  with people. Their parents, Harry's mother, Aunt Amanda and Uncle Jim, a  few other influential members of town... and in front of them all,  their other uncle, Rogers. Frequently heard blustering on about some  damn thing, usually something racist, he wasn't anyone Campbell had any  desire to be around. But there he was, shouting about the smell and what  to do about it.

Campbell tuned it all out and made breakfast for  himself, slipping out the door and heading to school before he was  noticed. The smell was, in fact, terrible. Students were whispering  theories to each other all day. Campbell heard that the smell was a dead  whale washed up on the coast and the wind was carrying the smell, that  it was a terrorist attack, that it was ghosts coming to haunt the town  for some misdeed, it was meth gone wrong... But in the end, there were  no answers. Just a constant, unyielding reek that seemed to be coming  from everywhere.

At the very least, the first night of the play  went off without a hitch. Even if it smelled like a dead skunk basted  with cow farts outside, Cassandra and Harry were beautiful, witty, and  gave a flawless performance. No one really payed attention to the fact  that there was a town meeting among the adults the next day; Campbell  overheard his mother talking to his father about it, and how Uncle  Rogers had contacted some guy named Pfeiffer to get rid of the smell.

Campbell  flopped on Harry's bed as Harry dug around his closet for a suit to  wear to prom. "Who the hell has a job in smell removal? Is that a  thing?"

"Don't know, and who cares? As long as I can go back to  eating without everything tasting faintly like septic tank, that's all I  care about."

Whatever the Pfeiffer guy was about, the day after  the town meeting, the smell did vanish as quickly as it had come. For  short time, things went back to normal. Campbell stayed home-- you've  seen one night in a play, you've seen them all, in his opinion-- to cook  mushroom carbonara while everyone else was out. If nothing else, he  knew how to make a good pan of noodles, and it gave him time to think  about asking Elle to prom. A sort of asinine affair, something he and  Cassandra agreed on, but it was the last big thing of high school. Maybe  it was worth a shot.

On the last night of the play, the smell  returned. It was even worse than before, so strong that it stung their  eyes and made some of the younger kids choke; the adults called yet  another emergency meeting, and this time, it was decided that the EPA  would be contacted. Until then, all students 16 and over would be sent  away on a camping trip until the smell was removed. An exciting prospect  in Campbell's mind, considering his family had never been camping his  whole life. A whole weekend in the middle of nowhere? Roasting  marshmallows, hiking, swimming, freaking Allie out with spooky stories?  Cool.

"Mom and dad wanted to know if you got your toothbrush,"  Sam signed as they stood on the school lawn, everyone waiting for the  buses to pick them up. "Did you?"

"Tell them to get fucked."

Sam  stared. Campbell forced a cheerful smile and headed off to go wait  elsewhere. He was standing at the curb when he heard someone  approaching; he turned his head, ready to tell Sam to leave him alone,  when Campbell realized it was Grizz heading his way. He was pale, his  gait fast and jaw tight as he glanced around. Huh. Weird. The football  player never really seemed nervous about much.

"Hey Campbell," Grizz greeted. "I have a question for you."

"I'm flattered, but I'm already asking someone to prom."

Narrowing his eyes, Grizz glared at him. "Hey. No, it's... Did you tag the wall of the church last night?"

"What?" Campbell blinked. "I'm no fan of Christianity, but no. I didn't tag the church with anything. Why?"

"Just wondering. There's some creepy Bible quote on one of the outside walls. Just thought maybe you'd know something about it."

"Someone's probably just dicking with us, man."

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right."

There  wasn't much time to debate it. Cassandra and her gaggle joined them at  the curb, all of them eagerly chattering at Grizz, who seemed to be the  group Boy Scout and everyone wanted camping advice. Five school buses  pulled up soon after, and everyone began to pile on. One of the few  places left on the bus was next to Elle; she had a look on her face that  was positively icy, but he decided to take the chance anyways.

Campbell rested his hand on the seat and nodded to the empty space next to her. "Hey, I'm Campbell. Do you mind if I sit here?"

Elle glanced up at him. She didn't smile, didn't speak, but she shrugged a little and moved over enough to make room.

"Excited for the trip?"

"Not especially. I prefer indoor plumbing. You?"

"I don't know. It might be an adventure."

"An adventure, huh? From what I hear, you make plenty of your own excitement."

"Oh? Where'd you hear that?"

"I just pay attention."

Campbell  leaned a little closer. She didn't flinch away, but she was watching him with a cautious intensity he hadn't seen from many others before. "It's too bad we've been going to school together all this time, and never really talked, don't you think?"

"What is there for us to talk about?"

"Dance, maybe. How many years did you do ballet before you moved here?"

"You know about that?"

"I pay attention, too."

That earned him the tiniest of smirks. "Okay, smartass. What else do you know about me?"

"Your  family moved here from New York when you were about twelve. You tried to make friends with Lexie and her goon squad, but they ignored you and  ever since then you've kinda just been alone. You spend most of your time reading, or playing the piano."

"Piano."

"Junior year, we had math together and Gelstein let us listen to music during tests." Campbell placed his fingers on the back of the seat in front of  him, moving them along like he was tapping on invisible keys. "You'd move your fingers along to the music, but you thought no one noticed because you sat in the back."

"Ohh, you've got a good eye. Yeah, I can play the piano. But I feel like that's cheating a little. You sat right next to me."

"That's true. I also know that you eat all the green M&Ms first, and that is not something I found out sitting next to you."

Elle leaned back and arched her eyebrows. "You know, some people might considered that level of observation a little creepy."

"Do you think it is?"

"I don't know yet."

"Think you'll know in time for prom?"

"Well, how about this." She was smiling now, and the corners of her eyes crinkled a little. "Ask me when this trip is over."

A  fair enough deal. They spent the rest of the morning discussing music,  art, and entertainment; Campbell had to stop and let Elle ramble from time to time, though he noticed she did the same and wondered if it was  for the same reason. He wasn't used to talking, to the point where he was getting winded. They had similar enough tastes, as far as modern music was concerned, and a similar view on politics. He liked modern dance, while she liked the more traditional forms, but it was still a shared interest.

They continued talking until the sun set and the bus fell silent, with students falling asleep as the bus ride continued well into the night. Elle slumped over near midnight, resting  her head on his shoulder. She yawned, content. "This is fun. How come we've never talked before?"

"I don't know." Campbell allowed her to nestle close. He wanted to stroke her hair, but he kept his hands to  himself. He didn't want to scare her by being too much, too fast. "I guess I was scared to approach you."

"Why?"

"Because you're pretty, and I'm trouble."

Ella closed her eyes, voice muffled as she drifted off to sleep. "Maybe I'm trouble, too."

Cute,  but it was hard to imagine. Not because she was a girl or because she was small-- he'd seen a 4'11" girl take down a two hundred and fifty pound football player with one well aimed kick to the dick-- but because  he'd never heard a single bad word about her from anyone who mattered.  Well, who knew. Maybe she had a rap sheet from back home in New York.  Campbell smiled a little, falling asleep himself soon after.

He  had no clue how much time had passed when the school bus jerked to a halt. He stirred, blinking as the lights on the bus flickered back on. Everyone was murmuring, trying to figure out what was going on. Were they there? It was supposed to be a twelve hour ride, including breaks along the way, but they had left at three in the evening and the time on  his phone said it was only a little past one in the morning.

"Change of plans," the bus driver said. His tone was flat. Bored. "Rock slides. The road is closed. You're back home."

The  murmurs turned into sounds of disbelief. Campbell stood as the bus doors opened, making his way out along with everyone else. He stopped on  the school lawn, and stared out into the darkness; there was no one there, no one besides the other students, and the weird smell was gone.  It couldn't have been fixed that fast. The useless government never did  anything fast, and it hadn't even been a full day yet.

"The fuck," he muttered as the buses all pulled away and left. "What is this?"

Ella stood next to him, frowning. "Strange. That's what."

Everyone  began texting, calling. Campbell tried his father's number, knowing Sam  was probably going to call their mother. It rang, and didn't stop ringing. No answer. No voicemail, even. He glanced around. He could see  the worry and panic on everyone else as they seemed to be reaching similar results. No one was answering. Something was obviously wrong. With the smell gone, he wondered if it really had been a gas leak, and now everyone was fucking dead. Only one way to know for sure.

Plastering  a smile on his face, Campbell looked to Sam and shrugged like it was no  big deal. Make it seem like everything was fine. No need to freak out  and start some kind of mass riot. "Well, I'm going home."

Sam  grabbed his arm. His eyes were wide, and he was obviously at that freak  out point already. "You're not going to wait for me?" he whispered, not  bothering to even sign.

Campbell made a quick sign. "Hurry up, then."

He  kept walking, and soon enough he heard footsteps trailing behind him. They walked in silence for a bit, before Sam signed to him. "Where do you think our parents are?"

"Home. Asleep."

"Do you think that's all?"

"Yeah." Campbell didn't believe it for a second, but Sam didn't need to know that right then. "Probably."

When  they made it home, the cars were still there. All the lights were out inside. Campbell went in first, calling out to their parents, but there  was no answer. Campbell and Sam exchanged a look; Sam's lips pursed, knowing without any words passing between them what the look meant. They  were alone. Campbell searched downstairs, then headed upstairs. He  didn't even care that Sam was right on his heels. It meant that they could both confirm at the same time that they were, in fact, alone in the house.

"No note," Sam said. "No message on the phone. Where could they be?"

Campbell  frowned. He didn't have a damn clue what to tell his brother, but then  their phones both began to blow up. Campbell looked at his, hoping for  the first time in forever that it was their parents, but it was Harry.  His mother was gone. Kelly's parents, too. No one could reach anyone, and their data was all knocked out.

Probably from the storm, Campbell texted back.

Yeah, Harry answered, and did the storm take all our parents too?

A  good question. Suddenly he had texts from Elle and Cassandra, even Allie, asking where he and Sam were and could they find anyone. Cassandra finally texted for the two of them to meet her and everyone else back at the school. ASAP.

"Are you gonna go?" Sam asked.

It  wasn't even really worth thinking about. Of course he was going to go,  if only so he could get some idea of where things were heading. People  were gonna start wigging out, and Campbell knew history well enough to  know that a bunch of teenagers alone and afraid never meant anything good. And maybe someone, somewhere, had actually found something. Campbell nodded to Sam, and they both headed out to meet with Cassandra.  

By the time they got to the school, a crowd had formed. Not  everyone, and mostly seniors, but enough for Campbell to know it'd get  ugly if the impromptu meeting didn't go well. Elle was there; she came  over and stood at his side, one arm crossed in front of her chest and  the other tangled up in her hair, her bottom lip pouting out a little.  She opened her mouth to speak, but then someone else-- one of the  football players, loud and brash-- yelled out.

"Who decided we needed a flash mob?"

Cassandra stepped out of the shadows. She stood on the other side of Campbell, pulling herself tall. "I did."

"What the fuck, Cassandra?"

"Better  than 200 people sending texts. Has anyone been able to reach anyone?" she asked. The crowd was either silent, or mumbled a negative. "No one?  Okay. Well, there's... there's definitely a simple explanation."

A voice Campbell didn't recognize yelled out. "Like what?"

"Um.  They, uh." Cassandra glanced at Campbell. He said nothing, hell, he didn't even move; if anyone thought he was influencing her, they'd never  listen. "They were evacuated, after we left. And there was a miscommunication, and we were brought back here by mistake."

"Someone would still answer a phone," Kelly pointed out.

"Maybe  they're asleep. I don't know, maybe they some place with no reception.  They're in a shelter with... with no reception, or something. In the morning, someone will answer a phone."

Goddamn  it. Cassandra, cool and collected Cassandra, was losing it. Standing  this close to her, Campbell could tell that she was shaking. Not much,  but enough that Campbell felt a spark of worry. They were supposed to be  the reasonable ones. Cassandra was valedictorian, disliked and  unpopular but vocal and well-known in their senior class. If Cassandra  lost it, the rest wouldn't be far behind.

"Maybe it's not safe for us to be here, if they all left."

"A  couple hours isn't gonna make a difference. We'll figure this all out in the morning. Right now, we should just... uh, go home. Yeah, we should go home. And anyone who doesn't want to, uh, be alone can come back to our house. Right?"

Allie smiled when Cassandra looked to her. "Sure."

"Is that your advice, Cassandra?"

It  had to be Harry that challenged her. Campbell cursed under his breath,  and resisted the urge to strangle him. Cassandra and Harry always had been rivals, butting heads over everything and fighting for power at every turn, with Cassandra usually emerging victorious. But what about now, when people were scared and tensions were climbing?  

"Yeah. Yeah, Harry, yeah, just go to sleep."

Harry  rolled his eyes, but people began to disperse. Well, some people. The majority stayed put, hovering around closer to Harry and the jock brigade; they were whispering about the local liquor store, and Campbell  took the moment to sidle over to Cassandra while everyone else seemed  distracted.

"Do you honestly believe any of that?" he wondered, lowering his voice.

Cassandra  shook her head. She took a breath, but it was already all too clear that she was out of her depth. "I have to, right now. It won't do any good tonight to think about it too much. We need to all go home, get some rest, and see what tomorrow brings."

"You know as well as I do that if we don't start preparing for the worst now, tomorrow it's gonna hit and this whole place is gonna go all Lord of the Flies."

"What the hell do you think happened?"

"Cassie, haven't you noticed anything else, besides our missing families?"

"The smell."

"Yeah, the smell. How are you gonna explain that to them? Or did the smell go to a shelter with no reception, too?"

Biting  her lip, Cassandra looked at the crowd gathering around Harry. Before she could say anything else, Allie came prancing up, a cheeky smile on her face. "Cassandra. Campbell." His name was said like it was something  disgusting, and her smile hardened just a bit. "I guess the guys are  planning to raid the liquor store and have a party. Coming?"

"Really?" Cassandra sighed. "No way. I'm going to head home and try to figure this out. Please don't burn anything down."

Allie  grinned and made her way back to her friends. Cassandra, Gordie, and their friend Bean headed off towards home. Campbell knew it'd be for the  best to just leave, but he could see that Sam was staying, and Elle was  watching him expectantly. Harry was waving them both over, and Campbell  sighed. Might as well. Despite how bizarre it all was, the idea of not  having to race home by ten and play Good And Normal Son with his parents  was appealing.

"What was that about?" Elle asked. Her tone was light, but her eyes were sharp. "With you and Cassandra?"

"Oh, just cousin bickering. How about this party, huh?"

It  started as just a bunch of them hanging out on the front yard of the church, with beers getting passed around. Campbell and Elle camped out in a quieter corner, each with their own drink. But within fifteen minutes, Clark had discovered that the church doors were open. It seemed  wrong. So, so very wrong. That's what made it fun. Campbell smirked as  people texted their friends, brought more liquor, and rigged up some  music. The air was just vibrating with bass and the cheers of about a  hundred drunk, high teenagers. It was blasphemous, and oh, they were all loving it.

"Can  you imagine the looks on their faces?" Campbell laughed with Elle as he  downed another cup of alcohol. "Those stuck up fucks would piss  themselves."

Elle answered, but her voice was muffled. Far away.  His vision was dimmer around the edges and he felt good; he grabbed Elle  by the hand and led her out to where people were dancing. Harry's  shitty little pity parties had never appealed to him much, and certainly  not the stiff swaying back and forth of school dances with their  parent-approved music, but this? This was something new, different. They  could do anything and they weren't going to get caught. Not yet. The cats were away, and they were all a bunch of fucking rats  ready to play.

At least, that's what Campbell thought, but after  people started pouring beers off the second story, Elle retreated into  an empty stairway. Campbell followed. A bad idea, in hindsight, but  they'd been having a good time. Hadn't they? She had tucked herself into  a corner, wiping beer off her skin and wringing it from her hair;  Campbell stepped closer, smiling.

"I don't know, I think you look kinda hot this way."

Elle didn't look at him. "Yeah, well, I don't really care what anyone else thinks right now."

"Hey.  Why are you spoiling all the fun?" Campbell asked. She didn't say anything, just giving him an irritated look. "Is it like a ballerina thing? Act all cold? Is that..."

Without a word, she tried to push past him. Campbell grabbed her arm, but she spun around and fixed him with a glare. "Seriously?"

Campbell blinked. He didn't know exactly what was happening, but she was angry, and he let go of her arm.  She kept walking, heading towards the exit. He sighed, mumbling under  his breath so she wouldn't hear. "Your loss."

Everything after  that was mostly a very long blur, ending in a wall of black. Not something he'd done in a while, getting completely wasted, and not something he was eager to repeat when he woke up the next morning with a  throbbing headache. Light hurt, sound hurt. The worst part was that he  just barely remembered what happened with Elle.

"Shit," he groaned as his phone blasted him with full brightness. Still, he managed to tap out a text to her. I'm sorry about last night. I'm an asshole and I was drunk. Forgive me? "Send."

It  was the best he could do at that second. Campbell dragged himself out of bed, stumbling downstairs where Sam was making breakfast. Sam glanced  at him, flipping some bacon. Campbell wanted to gag at the smell, but  there was a small stack of toasted Eggo waffles on the counter, and he  snagged one of those.

"No parents," Sam signed. "No calls or anything."

Campbell  just waved his hand and sunk his face into his arm. He figured. There hadn't been any furious screaming about the state of the church, after all. Sam sat down at the table, and Campbell raised his head enough to watch him for a moment. Now that he was sober, he was back to being able  to read people. He could see on Sam's face that Sam was scared. He kept  eyeing Campbell, then looking away, and shifting like his body just  didn't want to sit still. His body was turned away. Closed off. Insecure. He didn't like being alone with Campbell.

Well, who did anymore, really?

His phone buzzed. He hoped it was Elle, but it was from Harry. Campbell tapped on the notification, and stared at the text. Get to the bridge. NOW.

Sam's phone went off next. "Becca wants me at the bridge outside of town."

Please, a second text read. I'm scared.

Harry  had never said that, not in all the years they'd been friends. Campbell  stuffed another waffle in his mouth, and threw on his flannel shirt.  "Let's go."

It took almost twenty minutes to jog there. Sam kept  up, thankfully. Campbell wasn't about to wait around when Harry was  reduced to begging. Something was wrong, he could feel it in his stomach  more than ever. The closer he got, the more he could see there was a  small crowd formed. Cassandra, Allie, Becca, Will. Gordie, Bean, Kelly.  Luke, Clark, Grizz, Harry. Helena. Sam went to his friends, who were  sitting by the railing of the bridge; Campbell went to Harry, who was  crowded around his far with the jocks and Helena.

"What's going on?" Campbell hissed, pulling Harry off to the side. "You look ready to pass the fuck out."

Harry  just pointed. Campbell followed the line of sight. Trees. Trees had completely demolished the train tracks leading out of town. They just...  ended. Campbell went to turn back to Harry, and noticed the same thing  had happened to the road, too. He rubbed his eyes; maybe he was still  drunk, or someone had slipped him something. But no. It was like a wall  of forest.

Harry spoke, only just audible. "It's like that the  whole way around." He was breathing faster, his voice trembling faintly.  "We tried the internet, Bean tried to call 911. Nothing. There's no one  out there. We're trapped."

Campbell reached out, resting his  hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry leaned into the touch ever so slightly.  Adults and the younger kids, gone. The smell, gone. A natural barrier,  cutting them off from every escape route, and they were-- for the  moment-- alone. How? He couldn't fathom, but how didn't  exactly matter at the moment. What mattered was that this was reality.  Somehow, some way, they were going to have to survive it.

They were worse than trapped.

They were completely, truly, screwed.

[armadil-lo]

if when he sees me (2/6)

CHAPTER ONE: http://armadil-lo.tumblr.com/post/181213297051/if-when-he-sees-me-16

Chapter Summary: “It’s a dating app, Bakugou, and you just admitted I was right about you being bored and lonely. Are you saying you’re not getting to know him so you can go on a few dates and have a fun little summer fling?”

My Notes: if you're surprised at how quick this update came out, trust me, i am too. again though, no promises on when the next chapter will be, sorry :') this chapter was going to be longer, but i decided to split it instead because there were still like three scenes left and i'd prefer to keep the chapters similar in length i think heh. (oh and, the flowers i was thinking of in the scene towards the end are poinsettias - no idea when and where they typically live, but let's just pretend it's possible ^.^)

Words: 3195

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17038661/chapters/40373681

Zero Gravity Diner - open from 10AM to 10PM Monday to Friday, and an earlier closing time of 8PM on weekends - is an anomaly in the suburbs just outside the central city. It’s not in the shopping district for people to spend more money on between their retail purchases; it’s not in the middle of the business district for people to get coffee for their bosses or spend their lunch breaks; it’s nowhere near the university for stressed Yuuei students to study at or take a breather between classes. No, the Uraraka’s opened their small, cosy diner nestled between family houses on a street with little to no regular foot traffic.

The business obviously earns enough to keep the family afloat; now mostly run by Uraraka, who dropped out of Yuuei at the end of her first semester to help out when another waitress moved away, and her father, who is the head chef behind their tasty menu. Her mother has a job elsewhere in the city, but usually takes over closing up the restaurant from her daughter once she’s gotten home, eaten, and relaxed for an hour or so.

The majority of their customers hear about the place through word-of-mouth, or Kaminari’s instagram. There are a decent amount of regulars - elderly who come in for a cup of tea, young couples who stop in for breakfast while walking their dogs, and families with small children who come in for meals. If Katsuki had to guess, he’d say that all of their frequent customers probably just live nearby. But regardless, it would most certainly be safe to say that because of its location, Zero Gravity Diner is a relatively quiet business.

Especially on a summer weekday when it’s too hot to even function properly and Katsuki has sweat on his upper lip and in his palms from the short walk there.

Still, Katsuki curses all the gods that might exist for the fact that the diner is empty when he arrives for his shift the next morning, despite expecting just that.

“Good morning, Bakugou, you absolute jerk.”

Empty apart from Uraraka, of course.

“Fuck off, Round Face,” he hisses with a glare. “It’s too early to deal with your bullshit.”

“Oh no you don’t, mister.” She has her hands on her hips again, expression like she’s scolding a misbehaving child. “You put on that damn apron and get back out here so we can talk like I said we were going to.”

He brushes past her with an eye roll and a grumble. In the kitchen, he nods as he walks by Satou, diligently baking away to fill up their cabinet for the next couple days. He tries to take his time in the staffroom and flicks a message to Kirishima once he’s got his uniform on.

Bakugou (9:57): Thank fuck we have air conditioning at work.

Kirishima (9:58): lucky D: i’m dyinggggg ugh

Bakugou (9:58): Shame. Buy a fucking fan or something.

He pockets the phone and walks back out front with a heavy sigh. Uraraka corners him again by the time he’s clocking in.

“What,” he demands, but it comes out flat. He knows what.

“You know what,” she echoes his thoughts. She pauses until he makes eye contact with her and he frowns at the expectant grin on her face now. “Tell me about Kirishima!”

“There’s nothing to tell,” he states, walking over to the coffee machine to set his grind for the day. It usually takes him a couple tries; Kaminari’s is too damn fine. Either that or the dunce face just doesn’t tamp very hard, because either way it usually takes him a few shots every morning to get the coffee extracting the way it’s meant to.

“You can’t avoid this conversation, Bakugou,” she persists, following close behind him. He can feel her eyes watching him as he gets to work setting his grind, and hears her perch herself on the counter somewhere behind him.

A patient silence falls over them as Katsuki moves the grinder ring a couple notches over to start with and runs a trial shot through the machine. He counts the seconds it takes for it to pour into the cup and then uses a teaspoon to give it a taste. The black coffee is disgusting on its own, as it always is, but he pays attention to where on his tongue the bitterness lingers, and goes back to twist the ring another notch towards coarse.

Katsuki knows he can’t avoid talking to Uraraka about Kirishima forever. She’s the one who downloaded the app onto his phone and decided that hair-for-brains would be a good option for him, so she already knows more than he’d like her to. And honestly Katsuki would prefer she get answers from him than from Deku.

This time, the shot starts extracting exactly when it should, and Katsuki hands off the perfect espresso to Uraraka.

“You got in my head,” he mumbles as he gives her the cup.

She merely raises an eyebrow and takes a sip. “How so?”

“Saying that I was fucking bored and shit.” Katsuki crosses his arms and leans back against the counter. “I was going to delete it and then he messaged me so I decided, fuck it. What else was I going to do with my time?”

“So you’re going to pursue a summer romance with him?!” Uraraka asks, giddy.

Katsuki scowls. “What the fuck? No! Where the fuck did you get that idea from?”

Her smile turns confused. “Is that… not what you’re doing?”

She huffs when he only fixes her with a frustrated glare in reply.

“It’s a dating app, Bakugou, and you just admitted I was right about you being bored and lonely. Are you saying you’re not getting to know him so you can go on a few dates and have a fun little summer fling?”

Katsuki tries valiantly to ignore the fact that he can feel his face heating up again, and this time it’s got nothing to do with the weather outside.

“No!” he cries, strangled.

“Why not?” She’s frowning now.

“Why not? Fucking- I’m only talking to him to pass the time! I don’t want to fucking meet him, let alone date him!”

“But what better way to pass the time than with him?” she insists, waggling her eyebrows. Katsuki splutters.

“I don’t fucking know him! Do you know how stupid and dangerous it is to meet people you’ve only talked to online, Angelface? It’s a shitty fucking idea. I’m just talking to him because I have nothing else to do, but I don’t want to meet him and soon enough he’ll move on to wooing the next guy he fucking matches with on this godforsaken app and forget all about me anyway.”

Uraraka squints at him over the rim of her coffee, taking a long sip. Katsuki crosses his arms and holds his chin up. He recognises that expression on her face - he’s seen her wear it many times since they first started talking properly in their second year of high school. She thinks he’s being stubborn and difficult for no reason. And sure, maybe in high school Katsuki was stubborn and difficult for no reason about a lot of things, but he does have reasons now and he stands by them.

“I’m sorry but, to be frank,” she says after a long moment, “that all sounds like bullshit to me.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes and growls, “Did you miss the part where I said we don’t know each other?”

“But that’s exactly what you’re doing, Bakugou,” she states as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. “You’re getting to know each other. Just do that for a while longer if it makes it easier to meet him in person.”

He sighs heavily and drags a hand down his face in frustration. “You don’t get it. I’m not fucking meeting Shitty Hair, end of story.”

A sly grin slowly spreads across Uraraka’s face now. “What was that? Shitty Hair?”

Katsuki is momentarily saved from the conversation by a customer walking into the diner, making the bell above the door ring. It’s the chick with the ponytail, who seems far too fancy to be slumming it in Zero Gravity Diner for her morning coffee, but Katsuki gets to work on her usual order before she even says anything. He blocks out hers and Uraraka’s idle chatter (mostly about Ponytail’s girlfriend, who is a friend of Dunce Face), breathing deeply in an attempt to calm himself down as he makes the coffee. He feels shaky for some reason.

“Good morning, Bakugou-san,” Ponytail greets him as he hands her the coffee. He bites back the rude response on the tip of his tongue and forces a close-mouthed smile onto his face in return.

When Ponytail leaves, Uraraka waves and calls out a goodbye to her before she turns her attention to Katsuki once more. She looks less mischievous now than she had before Yaomomo walked in.

“Bakugou,” she starts, tone almost artificially light and airy, “do you know what your nickname system is?”

“My what?” he deadpans. This already sounds like a bunch of crap.

“Your nickname system,” Uraraka repeats. “Or do you think you just choose the nicknames you give people at random?”

“Of course I fucking do,” he snaps. “They just fucking come to me, I don’t sit and waste my time meticulously planning what names I’m going to call you idiots.”

Uraraka nods. “Well, I can tell you what your system is.”

“I just fucking said I don’t have one!” he yells incredulously, throwing his hands up.

“But you do,” she insists through laughter at his outburst. Katsuki seethes as she takes a moment to collect herself. “Look, you might not think so, but I think I’ve figured it out. If it’s not a general comment about our face, then it’s what you consider to be our most striking feature.”

It… actually sounds plausible, but it strikes Katsuki as wrong almost immediately because-

“Deku.”

She waves that off. “Deku-kun is the exception. You gave that nickname to him when you guys were, like, six. And you were a massive jerk to him back then.” She pauses. “Although, you’re still a jerk now, so…”

“You were saying?” he monotones.

“Right! So you’ve got me, who’s usually Round Face or Angelface. You also used to call me Pink Cheeks sometimes in high school because I wore too much blush, remember? Then there’s Dunce Face or Sparky, because of the bolt in Kaminari-kun’s hair, as well as Soy Sauce Face for his boyfriend and Frog Face for Tsuyu-chan.” She lists off the names, counting on her fingers as she goes. “But then there’s Todoroki, and you call him IcyHot or half-and-half something.” Uraraka looks up and smiles at him now. “That’s because of Todoroki-kun’s heterochromia, right?”

“And his whole fucking candy cane aesthetic,” Katsuki grumbles. And okay, he has to admit she seems to have a point. Apparently he needs to get more creative.

“Exactly! And now you’ve given Kirishima the nickname Shitty Hair,” she continues. “So I think that means you might actually like Kirishima’s hair.” She pokes him in the side as she says it and he swats her hand away.

Katsuki scoffs with a displeased, “Tch.” The conversation has gone on long enough as far as he’s concerned, so he turns away to grab some cleaning supplies out of the cupboard.

“Was that a yes?” Round Face prods, sounding far too pleased with herself.

“It’s bright fucking red,” Katsuki bites out, grabbing the spray and a cloth. “And he’s got so much gel in it that it literally sticks straight up on his fucking head.”

“I didn’t hear you deny it yet, Bakugou,” she sing-songs.

“Fuck off,” he says as he shoulders past her to actually get some work done.

“Hi Uraraka! Hey Kacchan,” Kaminari thinks he can get away with proclaiming as he walks into the diner for his shift later that afternoon.

“Call me that one more time, Sparky, and I’ll wipe that fucking smirk off your face,” Katsuki snarls, untying the apron from around his waist. Dunce Face only laughs.

God, he is more than ready to get out of this place today. Uraraka has been pestering him non-stop with questions, even when he resorted to only giving her grunts and one-worded answers. There’s nowhere to escape from her in a diner void of customers and he’s been itching to get away from her prying eyes all day. He hasn’t even messaged Kirishima once, though he’s felt his phone buzz in his pocket a few times.

He’s out of the door as soon as he can be, not even bothering to say goodbye to the others as he stalks out of the restaurant and far down the street before he takes out his phone.

Kirishima has mostly just messaged him a few updates about the heat and his adventures in finding a gym to work out at. It appears none of the ones he’s been to so far have given off the right ‘vibe’ yet, whatever that fucking means.

Bakugou (4:06): Have you been to Riot Recreation Center?

The reply is instant, as if Kirishima has been waiting all day for Katsuki’s response.

Kirishima (4:07): hey!! how was work? and no i haven’t, is it any good? :o

Bakugou (4:07): Boring and annoying. The RRC is the best place to go in town if you want to work out.

In truth, he hasn’t been to the gym there since before he knuckled down to study for finals towards the end of last semester. But he knows it offers an impressive amount of facilities.

Kirishima (4:08): i’ll look it up now!! :D

Katsuki pockets the phone as Kirishima does so. It’s cooled down quite a bit since this morning, though the sky is still cloudless. He stops in front of the entrance to a park he knows bridges the difference between suburbs and city. It’s the long way home and would add on about another twenty minutes to his walk, but instead of sticking to the roads, he decides to turn into the park today anyway.

There’s a decent crowd in the park making the most of the weather too. Plenty of people with their dogs, children laughing on the swings, picnic blankets littering the grass. Katsuki takes it in, people watching and admiring the flowers blooming along the path that winds through the gardens.

He feels his phone vibrate and pulls it out of his pocket, interested in what Kirishima thinks of the Riot Rec Center.

But it’s not a message from Kirishima.

You have a new match waiting for you! the notification on his screen declares.

Katsuki scowls and unlocks his phone, glaring at the photo that pops up on his screen of some guy with black hair and the fakest smile he thinks he’s ever seen in his life.

The message comes instantaneously.

Shindou (4:12): Hey there beautiful ;)

“Oh, fuck no,” Katsuki mutters, rushing to block the guy immediately. There’s no fucking way he’s falling for that; the guy already seems like an asshole in disguise. He must have been someone else Uraraka swiped on when she set him up on this godforsaken app, because lord knows Katsuki hasn’t used it for anything other than messaging Shitty Hair.

As he deletes the guy, Kirishima finally replies.

Kirishima (4:13): ooo, riot rec center looks really cool! it even has a rock climbing wall, that’s so manly! ^.^

Bakugou (4:14): Firstly, what the hell is your obsession with manliness all about? And secondly, Jesus fucking Christ this app sucks, some smarmy bastard just tried to weasel his way into my messages like a goddamn creep.

Kirishima (4:15): well, that is kind of what the app is for, you know? xD messaging and meeting new people... though i guess there are some creepy people on this too sadly :(

Katsuki doesn’t deem this worthy of a response and waits as Kirishima takes his time replying to his other question. He almost bumps into someone else heading in the opposite direction on the path, muttering a vague insult over his shoulder as he stares down at his phone.

Kirishima (4:19): as for your other question, well. it’s not so much ‘manliness’ that i like, but the virtues i believe manliness stands for. bravery, selflessness, integrity, dependability. a life led without regret. i used to be kind of a coward when i was younger, and i didn’t really like myself that much if i’m honest. but one day i decided that that’s not who i am in my heart. and so i try my best everyday to work towards becoming the man i want to be! i hope that makes sense :’)

It might be the stupidest thing Katsuki has heard in a long time. And yet, something tugs at his lips until they’re pulled upwards into a smile. He chuckles and shakes his head, unable to deny the feeling of fondness that swells in his chest.

Another text makes his phone buzz in his hand.

Kirishima (4:19): speaking of having no regrets! since you seem to hate the app so much, why don’t we exchange numbers? :3

It’s followed by Kirishima’s own phone number, which makes Katsuki scoff. There’s no way he’s giving out his damn number to the guy.

Bakugou (4:20): You’re an idiot, and no, you can’t have my phone number. But your ridiculous speech about the virtues of manliness did somehow make sense, Shitty Hair.

The two continue to talk as Katsuki makes his way through the park. Out of the corner of his eye, something bright catches his attention while he’s chatting with Kirishima. It’s a small flower bush with blooming red petals that almost look like leaves. It’s rather vibrant, and the way they stick out at all angles instantly reminds Katsuki of Kirishima’s hair in his profile picture.

Without even thinking, he takes a photo of the flowers and sends them to the other boy.

Bakugou (4:25): They’re red and spiky like your stupid hair.

Kirishima (4:25): aww, you are just a secret romantic, aren’t you katsuki! taking pictures of flowers that remind you of me :’D i’m flattered!

Katsuki rolls his eyes and calls him an idiot again, then changes the subject. He just thought the flowers looked nice.

He stops by the grocery store and buys himself some actual food on the way home, messaging Shitty Hair periodically as he does so. The same strange part of him that made him take the long way home through the park today feels motivated enough to cook dinner for himself tonight as well. Katsuki hasn’t felt like doing either of those things in weeks, but he’s not going to question it now.

Kirishima (4:39): okay but, you weren’t there, he was like a REALLY BIG octopus, i swear! >.<

Just like he’s not going to question the fact that a stranger he’s only been texting for four days can make him smile with the most ridiculous things.

[xathia-89]

Belated Blooming

It was hard to process sometimes that several years had passed since I had refused to go back to the ‘present’. I was in a slightly melancholy mood, my parents had always been distant, I was simply the result of faulty birth control. I was chewing the inside of my lip subconsciously as I gazed out over the gardens. It was early spring, and we were just coming out of a frost as the snowdrops were threatening to bloom. Azuchi was the only place I could even consider home after those three months I’d first spent here, it began to all make sense as to why I never truly belonged anywhere. I was born 500 years too late it seemed as I realised that I had some work to be done on a kimono.

Unbeknownst to me, there was a quiet gathering of the warlords in the main hall at the same time.

“Natsuki has been more withdrawn than usual,” Hideyoshi agreed as they all gave their reports on the chatelaine. She hadn’t been as interested in going to the town of late, even her passion for the fabrics and designing had slowed. The maids said her smile didn’t warm her eyes as often, and she was running off instincts and use of the routines rather than to actively investigate. The deep frown on his lord’s face was the main concern of them all, he was unusually serious regarding the chatelaine’s mood.

“Tomorrow we hold a feast for her,” Oda announced. “We have her favourite foods available and make sure she is spoilt. I will have the maids and townspeople keep her in the town for the day. Masamune will be in charge of the kitchens, Hideyoshi and Ieyasu will be in charge of making sure the castle is clean and decorated, Mitsunari will ensure that a new kimono is made to her specifications whilst Mitsuhide will spy on Natsuki and use delaying tactics if needs be,” he reeled off, as though mentally checking off on a list what needed addressing.

“And you, my lord?” Hideyoshi queried, surprised to hear how thoroughly Nobunaga was organising the event.

“I will be sourcing the gifts,” he smiled. “You are all dismissed.”

I felt as though I was trying to walk through a fog as I sat on the veranda outside my room. I was enjoying a lazy breakfast, brought to me by the maids after they’d told me that there was nothing to be done at the castle, but there was the talk of a potential problem in the town with supply lines. All the warlords were too busy to go and investigate, plus they all agreed that the merchants spoke a lot more freely with me than with any of the men. It also gave me a chance to practice my good luck charm skills as Nobunaga called them since rohins and enemy spies would often be attracted to the areas I was in, to the point I’d even had to start carrying a short sword after daily training with Masamune, Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide.

I let the maids know I was leaving, they requested some general items and to see if there was anything new in the herb and spices that took my fancy. Nobunaga ensured I was never wanting for money, but I was happier to earn it. Everything was starting to become the same in my daily life as I quietly contemplated how my life had been turned upside down. I hadn’t failed to notice the increasing letters requesting my hand in marriage with various daimyos and other lords as I pondered the mere thought of leaving Azuchi behind. It was expected of the era for women to bear children as it was starting to feel like a crushing weight seeing as I had yet to even form any romantic attachments. I loved everyone dearly at the castle, I was just struggling to push over that sentimental attachment and find anything deeper.

Cinnamon had made its way onto the market, as I purchased enough to keep me in dumplings for a while to come, and I cleaned them out of the sugar candies to keep Nobunaga occupied for his night excursions. The stall holders were all a little cheerier than usual, even after I was done probing the spice merchant about any possible problems that we’d heard up at the castle. Everyone was being quick to deny anything, and I had to agree that if anything the paths seemed safer given the larger selection available from most of them.

I paused as I came to my favourite teahouse. The dumplings made here simply couldn’t compete as I went to find the owner. He was beaming as I went to hand him over some cinnamon until he laughed and said that he had already purchased some in anticipation of my visit. I was ushered outside and sat down as they prepared the dumplings and graced me with some tea whilst I was waiting.

Mitsuhide was chuckling to himself as he took a seat opposite me, a slippery smirk on his face as I continued to sip at my tea. There was some sake brought out for him instantly, and the idle chatter began before the special dumplings were brought out.

He looked a little stumped at the smell, trying to process it.

“Cinnamon,” I calmly stated before taking a mouthful and savouring it slowly. It had been months since it was last available, and it was never predictable. Vanilla was the other spice I had the merchants on the lookout for, though many of them appeared confused when I asked but agreed to be prepared for it since the price was rarely a problem when it was me asking.

“What?” the serpent asked, looking even more confused.

“That smell, it’s cinnamon. Reminds me of home,” I shrugged, biting into another dumpling. “Try one,” I offered.

Mitsuhide pulled a face at the treat. “I don’t like sweet things,” he grumbled, as I rolled my eyes at the man. “Anyway, it’s getting late and I’m sure you’ve bought most of the market,” he teased.

“It’s only getting late because you’re on your third bottle of sake,” I snorted, jabbing straight back at him.

We quibbled the entire way up to the castle before he lifted his hand to announce his departure, whilst walking in the completely opposite direction to my room. I was feeling like the whole day had been a distraction, it wasn’t unusual for me to see none of the warlords, but the smells drifting from the kitchens told me that Masamune was busy at the very least.

I hadn’t told any of the warlords that I was getting written proposals from anyone, they’d be going mad, which is why all the blood drained from my face when I found a brand new kimono in my room on top of them all with a note saying ‘wear this and we need to talk’. Hideyoshi had found out at the very least, which meant that everyone was going to know soon enough. The kimono made me feel like the Oda princess title I’d been given, which brought a dark blush to my skin, I’d been acting more like the chatelaine than the princess of late, though apparently, I fit into both roles like a glove.

I was nervous when I heard a knock, and Ieyasu opened the door. “Come on,” he gruffly bristled and jerked his head in the direction of the main hall.

All of the daimyos who had sent marriage requests were present, along with some very pissed off warlords. None of them were too pleased to be there, though several faces turned instantly to one of hope at my appearance. Ieyasu was playing the escort as he held his hand out to guide me through the masses.

“Everyone present has made a bid for the princess’ hand in marriage, without consulting me,” Nobunaga was not happy as I was seated next to him, a blaze in his eyes telling me that as soon as the daimyos were dismissed, I was in for one hell of a talking to. “All of you are now to leave and will never be considered for marriage to the princess,” he claimed. Some of the men looked ready to argue until they noticed that Masamune, Mitsuhide, Hideyoshi and Ieyasu all had their hands on their swords, and even Oda was not far from his blade.

Once it was confirmed they had all left the building, the warlords all turned their attention onto me as I gave them a weak smile.

“I didn’t want to bother you guys,” I explained. “I had no intention of accepting any of their offers because it would mean I couldn’t stay here.”

“Regardless, you should have told us you were receiving that volume,” Hideyoshi was turning into the big brother role. “It may look to undermine Lord Nobunaga’s role if it is left to run this far. I noticed that many of them were from the same men, they take silence as a potential yes,” he sighed.

“Some of those letters were getting downright rude too lass, warning you about your age,” Masamune added in, there was still a hope for a fight in his eye, but there always was that air around him.

Nobunaga wouldn’t look me in the eye anymore as Mitsunari appeared. The two men muttered amongst themselves, and a glance was given to Mitsuhide who then promptly disappeared. Masamune took this as a hint to take me to the kitchens, especially since I’d bought the cinnamon in from the market. He was playing with the dough that he had been in the middle of making when we had all been summoned to the hall. The silence was natural, I was just studying his technique, intrigued as to how he made it so the dough was light and fluffy.

“Why did you really hide all those proposals from us lass?” Date brought me out of my stupor, surprising me a little.

“Because it just felt like I would be causing problems. I don’t want to be continually reminded of my age and Nobunaga has enough on his plate without me adding that to it. I have no intention of leaving Azuchi after this long, it’s my home now and I didn’t think that any of you would be bothered since I had no intentions of accepting them,” I shrugged with a sigh.

“Care to share the burden as you frequently ask us?” He continued. I was picking at the hem of my kimono sleeves in an attempt to focus on something.

“Where I come from, there’s pressure to excel in a career, you aren’t expected to have children. My parents only had me, and I wasn’t exactly a wanted child, there were developments made that could mean you didn’t just end up with children like you do here, but it all failed and I happened,” I shrugged, refusing to look up from my sleeves. “Now I’ve been here for a few years, everyone’s expecting me to get married and have kids, and I don’t think I could do that to Nobunaga,” I quietly added. “This is my home, has been for a while, and now all these lords were piling their expectations onto me. Just wondering if I need to get back through the next wormhole,” I paused. “I wouldn’t fit in there anymore. And I’d miss you all too much to function. I guess I just feel like I’m stuck in a limbo between two sets of expectations.”

“Nobunaga’s been turning down proposals for you since you arrived,” Date chuckled, adding a pinch of salt to the broth he had boiling. “I guess they got bored of hearing him say no, so they went to you hoping to override him effectively. I don’t think I’ve seen him do anything for anyone like he does for you.”

“It’d have been a lot easier for him to throw me in a cell and just to leave me to rot then to take me on as he did,” I admitted, wrapping my arms around my abdomen and leaning forward a little. “Getting it out in the open just makes it sound ridiculous,” I sighed. “That I’m worrying over nothing.”

“Other’s expectations are a huge weight to bear lass, especially in the case of marriage and children,” Masamune gravely replied. “But for now, you have us all, and you need a good meal. I know you haven’t been eating properly for weeks,” he growled and shooed me out back to the main hall as the servants came in to take all the dishes out.

The sake was flowing freely between me and Nobunaga as we watched the rest of the hall with interest. Any vassals, aides or staff who had been present were all invited since Masamune had gotten overzealous with the quantities of food and there was enough to feed an army. I was sure I was imagining the gap between us getting smaller until I realised I was sat on his lap quite comfortably. I was pouring him the sake constantly as he kept tipping the cup back without a thought until he tipped an entire cup into my mouth and then kissed me to get the sake back.

His lips were soft, his fingers holding my chin up as the sake disappeared between us and it wasn’t until we parted for breath that we realised that the whole room had fallen silent and was staring at us now.

“Finally!” Date cheered, as Oda faintly blushed whilst I turned the shade of a tomato. “Only taken five years,” he grinned, holding a cup of water up to us.

“That’s sake!” I yelled at him, though Nobunaga wasn’t letting me go anywhere to stop him drinking it. “Idiot,” I muttered before I was pulled back in for another kiss. The faint traces of sake still on Oda’s tongue and lips as I was left mind blown.

Moving into the tenshu was the only thing to be done, my sewing kit took up a corner of the room as Nobunaga grumbled about making compromises. He’d been turning down the proposals and not telling me to keep me happy, he’d heard about the various romantic attachments of my modern era and wanted me to find my own way. Turns out I’d just gotten so lost in myself he had to come and find me anyway.

The gossip spread quickly through the domain, as some of the merchants passed comments on to me whilst at the market that made me blush. There was always the outside pressure for children and to make things ‘right’ between us. Everything had to be done suddenly in this era, life was so fleeting and fragile, but I was still trying to break out of my modern expectations of a relationship. I had time still for children, but with every battle, Nobunaga raged in, there was always that chance he would never come home. The thought of him not coming home still terrified me as much as it did when I first arrived as I scurried back to the castle after some hurried goodbyes, just to get out of the prying eyes and ears of the townsfolk.

“They mean well,” Nobunaga patted my head as I let out a sigh, glad to be back in the castle. “Just take things as you’re prepared to,” he kissed my forehead and left for the war council in the main hall. A brief passing in the corridor was all I was likely to see him until he woke me up when he got into bed. He had heard from the maids what was being said in the town, and Mitsuhide had confirmed the same things after a little snooping about. It made me feel as though I was sitting on top of an invisible timer, and everyone else could see it except for me.

“Natsuki,” someone was shaking my shoulder gently, waking me from my slumber. “You really need to be more careful,” Oda chastised as it turned out I’d fallen asleep on my sewing, again. It was the middle of the night as I peered up at him. “Come on, the bed’s this way,” he chuckled, having already changed his clothing.

Once we were settled down in the futon, he was stroking my hair softly as I listened to his steady heartbeat. It was all soothing and comforting to be there with him as I sighed softly in contentment.

“That’s a better noise,” he murmured in a humoured tone.

“Mm, you’re my favourite,” I mumbled in response, sleep winning the battle I was fighting.

“Should hope so,” I could hear the smug look on his face without even needing to look up. This was where I was home and meant to be.