#i can say i really enjoy drawing nick

[trishthepotato]

I JUST SAW THE SMURF DRAWING ON TWITTER AND IMMEDIATELY THINKING OF FRICK (this is the most goofy ahh drawing i made that i forgot to put my watermark but whatever lol)

the source:

[matty-bear]

The Elevator Game Gone Wrong [M.S]

type: fic! 

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: long , sfw , fluffy , paranormal activity , hint of getting an attachment (wink wink) , elevators , ritual run through 

summary: as you and the triplets join sam and colby in investigating the most haunted hotel in texas , the two ghost hunters suggest that Matt participates in a ritual called The Elevator Game . little did everyone know that the ritual would actually work and your boyfriend would get stuck in another part of existence . 

notes: i HAD to write a fic based off the SnC x sturniolo collab . n when I found that the sam n colby made matt do this ritual , i knew i had to write a fic based off it :3 hope you guys enjoy reading part one ! be on the lookout for part two <3 

WC: 7098

PT2

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“Is the red light really necessary?” Nick asks, a single eyebrow raising as he watches Sam turn on a large red light and set it behind the camera propped up in front of them. 

“It adds a more dramatic effect to the video.” Sam shrugs, taking a few steps back to check if the light is fine in the viewfinder. 

“Well it looks rather terrifying in here so good job guys.” You say, holding up two thumbs up as a small smile spreads across your lips. 

“We try.” Colby smiles, shrugging his shoulders a little before he leans back against his arms on his spot on the mattress. 

“You guys ready to start?” Sam asks as he adverts his gaze from the camera to you and the triplets. 

“We were born ready.” Chris replies, a determined expression clear on his face as he nods faintly. Sam takes a quick glance over at Colby and waits for the male to give him a thumbs up before turning back towards the camera. Without warning, a spew of random sounds spill out of Sam’s mouth as he waves his arms about. Colby follows suit with the random shenanigan and you and the triplets laugh softly at the two before their actions come to a quick halt. 

“It is ritual time.” Sam states as he clasps his hands together and glances over at all of you. 

“Yay.” Nick says, his voice monotone as he wipes his mouth with his hand. 

“Love the sound of that.” Matt comments, earning a small laugh from his two brothers. 

“We are going to do something that we’ve never done before on this channel.” Sam starts, his tone nothing but serious as Nick and Chris let out small shouts of excitement. “We are going to be doing something called The Elevator Game.” 

As Matt and Nick begin to clap softly, Chris speaks up. “That sounds like a very pleasing game to partake in.” The male jokes, earning a small snicker from you as you clamp a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter. 

“You guys said you love elevators, right?” 

“Big fans.” Nick replies with a small smile. 

“I hate elevators.” Matt states, his comment drawing laughter from the four other boys in the room.  

“Perfect!” As you take a quick glance over at Matt, Sam clears his throat for a moment before he continues, “That is very interesting because for this ritual, we need a singular volunteer.” 

As Sam slowly looks over and locks eyes with Matt, the rest of the boys look over at the middle triplet with large smiles visible on their lips. 

“Yes Matt!” Nick exclaims as he lightly nudges the said male's leg with his knee. 

Chris reaches behind you to land a singular hand on the older’s shoulder. “Do you wanna volunteer or should we just rule you in?” The male asks as he pats his brother’s back a few times. 

As you lean forward and take in a proper look at your boyfriend, a nervous expression can be seen clear as day on his face as he looks between all the boys in the room. You've known about Matt’s fear of elevators for a little while now. You knew the male would avoid them at all costs unless it was absolutely necessary. In fact, the small mishap that occurred between him and Chris about a year or so ago was the reason why this fear of his became a thing. 

During the duration of filming the collaboration with Sam and Colby, yourself and the triplets often took the elevator to travel between the different floors of the hotel you guys were investigating in. Matt, not wanting to draw attention to himself, dragged himself to the elevator everytime you guys went to a different floor. He always stayed in the corner closest to the door, being ready to exit the moment anything suspicious started happening. 

Speaking of which, when the small malfunction in the elevator occurred when you guys and the tour guides went to go to a different floor and the elevator started acting up, you immediately picked up on Matt’s anxious behavior. When Sam mentioned that someone should step out to see if the same issue with the doors would happen, Matt immediately volunteered and practically ran out of the elevator and stayed outside for a little while until you guys sorted the situation out. 

You had a feeling that Sam and Colby would ask Matt to do this Elevator Ritual when he mentioned his strong dislike for elevators. You knew that your boyfriend would immediately decline because that’s one of his fears but you also knew that the male wouldn’t wanna pass this opportunity up and seem like a pussy. 

“I’ll go on the elevator.” Matt states, earning excited shouts from all the boys, more specifically Sam and Colby. You raise an eyebrow at your boyfriend when he looks over at you. The male subtly takes your hand in his and squeezes your hand three times, signifying that he’ll be alright. 

“Face that fear, Matt.” Chris says as he gently claps his hands together, a proud smile visible on his lips. 

“So that means that Matt and I are going to go into the elevator and go through all 13 floors.” Sam says, his voice low as he looks over at the said male who sends him a little smile. 

“That sounds wonderful.” Nick comments as he nods his head and gently pats Matt’s knee. 

“Then you guys can stay in the lobby and be with-“ 

“Samantha!” Colby shouts, accidentally cutting the blonde off. 

“Yes, Daddy Driskill and Samantha will be accompanying you guys while we do the ritual.” Sam nods, earning excited shouts from Nick and Chris. 

“Yes! The big D!” Nick exclaims, excitement running through his veins as he claps a few times. 

“I am going to explain the rules of The Elevator Game now.” Sam says as he looks straight into the camera. “Now, since the game is a summoning ritual, it is said to, if it works, take us to another plane of existence. I don’t exactly know if that will happen but it’s worth a shot.” 

“Oh my God… That’s not terrifying at all.” Chris jokes as he lands a few playful pokes on Matt’s back. “You better be ready, kid.” 

“Also very important note, there is a chance that we may never come back.” Sam adds, earning shocked exclamations from you and the triplets.

“Isn’t that lovely.” You say as you subconsciously begin to trace circles on the back of Matt’s hand with your thumb. 

“Right? We might never come back.” 

“Chris, I think that’s a sign that you and I should get our license. Who the hell is gonna drive us around if Matt doesn’t come back?” Nick asks, leaning forwards a little to lock eyes with Chris. 

“Shit, you're right.” Chris mumbles, a single hand coming up to rub the side of his face. “Matt, please come back after you do the ritual. I really dont wanna have the responsibility of doing all the laundry.” 

“As long as you guys don’t jinx me, I'm sure I’ll be perfectly fine.” Matt reassures as he lands a soft hit to Chris’ back. 

“I agree with Matt. You guys can’t jinx us.” Sam says as he points a single finger towards all of you, causing you guys to all stick y’all’s hands up in defense. “Anyways, onto the rules.” The blonde digs in his pocket to fish his phone out. After unlocking the device, he pulls up the rules and instructions of the ritual. “So. We are going to have to push a series of buttons and make sure that no one else gets onto the elevator. If the whole place has 13 floors, which this hotel does, then it will summon something on the final floor. We will start in the lobby and go to four, two, six, back to two, ten, and then five. Five is the most haunted floor and the final bit of the ritual.” 

“I love the sound of this guys. I’m so excited.” Matt says, sarcasm laced in his tone as looks down at his lap and uses his free hand to ruffle his hair.

“Are you regretting volunteering?” Chris asks, a small laugh escaping him as he takes in the older’s stressed state. 

“Umm..” Matt starts as he lifts his head back up and looks ahead of him. “I’d rather it be me than you to be honest.” A unison of ‘oh!’s fill the room as Chris narrows his eyes at Matt. “I feel like you would just be better in the elevator than Chris would.” Matt adverts his statement to Nick as he reaches over to his left and lightly hits the older’s arm. 

“Alrighty then. I guess that makes sense.” Chris says as he rubs the slight stubble forming on his chin. 

“You just seem to be the person that’s less fit and prepared to do this.” Nick adds, his head slightly tilting to the side as he looks over at the youngest triplet. As you stifle a laugh and cover your mouth, Chris’ jaw drops as a fake hurt expression spreads across his face. 

“We got some sibling banter over here.” Sam says to the camera as he juts his thumb towards the three brothers. “Anyways, back to the rules of the game. Once we reach the fifth floor, the door will obviously open and it is said that on this said floor, especially knowing that it's the most haunted floor, a female spirit will walk into the elevator with us. To end the ritual, we must press one and go back to where you guys are.” 

A few excited shouts fill the room as all the boys shake their fists. “However!” Sam exclaims, cutting off the shouting as he gently clasps his hands together. 

“Of course there’s a however.” Nick mumbles, earning a small laugh from Colby as the red-head crosses his arms over his abdomen. 

“Rituals can never be all cupcakes and rainbows, you know.” Sam says with a small smile before he diverts his attention back to the camera. “If the ritual is a success, the elevator won’t go to the lobby. It will go up and start ascending. If that happens, that means we’ve successfully summoned something into the elevator.” 

“Are you serious?” Colby asks, a small laugh escaping his lips as he sends the blonde a shocked expression. 

“Is that when the chance of you guys not coming back comes into play?” You ask, a worried expression spreading across your face as you look up at Sam. 

“Yes.” The blonde replies, softly nodding his head as he turns around and locks eyes with you.

“Some Willy Wonka shit is gonna happen then.” Nick jokes, trying to lighten the tense mood filling the room. It seems to work as soft laughter comes from you and the rest of the boys. “We’re just gonna hear a loud crash as the elevator flies out of the hotel.” 

“We’re just gonna be flying into the oblivion.” Sam adds as he shoots his arm up to mimic the action of the elevator flying. 

“Yeah, I will not be very happy if that happens.” Matt points a finger at Sam as the latter laughs softly. “If I get stuck in this elevator, I feel bad for Sam. That’s all ima say.” 

“Awh.” Sam chuckles lightly as he brings a hand up to his chest. “Considering the amount of mishaps we’ve had with the elevator earlier, I really hope nothing bad happens.” 

“If shit goes down after we’re done with the ritual, you guys are gonna be next.” Matt points both his pointer fingers towards Nick and Chris who hurriedly shake their heads. 

“Let’s just hope you come back first.” Nick says as he lands a hand on Matt’s shoulder. 

“They will come back, don’t worry.” Colby reassures as he looks over at Sam and gently nods his head. 

“Well, we’ll never find that out if we don’t do it. So shall we get this ritual started?” Sam asks he turns towards all you guys, a large smile visible on his lips as he rubs his hands together. 

“Hell yeah!” Chris exclaims as he slips off the mattress. 

“Let’s all head to the lobby then.” As Sam walks up to the camera to shut it off, Nick and Colby follow Chris in exiting the room. After ensuring that the males leave and that Sam is busy with the camera, you look over at Matt who’s began to fiddle with the horse chain on his neck. 

“You really wanna do this?” You whisper, your voice low as you lean in closer to your boyfriend. 

“Yeah. I’ll be fine. It’s just an elevator, right?” Matt replies as he looks over at you. As he sends you a small smile, you gently nod your head and slip off the bed. You stick your hand out to Matt, who quickly takes it and allows you to pull him up to his feet. Before following Sam out the door, you land a quick kiss on Matt’s temple before guiding him out of the room. 

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

Upon arriving in the lobby, Sam and Colby begin to set up their equipment as you and the triplets patiently wait in front of the elevator. 

“Alright.” Sam begins as he adjusts his hold on the camera in his hand before turning it on. “Any thoughts before we start Matt?”

“Umm…” Matt starts as he begins to rock back and forth on his heels. “I have to say that the nausea I’ve been feeling for the past five minutes or so has increased significantly.” 

“You’ve been feeling nauseous?” Colby asks, adverting his focus from the camera in his hand to look over at Matt, a worried expression clear on his face as he glances over at Sam. The two ghost hunters share a worried look before Nick speaks up.

“We’ve all been feeling a little nauseous.” Nick begins as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I started feeling it when we sat down to eat, Matt started feeling it five minutes ago, y/n started feeling it when we were giving candy offerings to Samantha, and Chris felt it the second we got here.” 

“That doesn’t sound very good…” Sam says, his voice trailing off as he gestures Colby to grab something in the backpack. “Maybe we should sage you guys again before we start the ritual.” 

“Should we do it here or go outside?” Colby asks as he digs inside the backpack laying at his feet. 

“We can do it here.” Colby gently nods his head before bringing the sage out. He gestures you and the triplets to stand in a line before he quickly waves the sage around the four of you. “That should do it. If you guys keep feeling nauseous, we can take a break.” 

“We appreciate it guys.” You say with a small smile. 

“Of course. Safety comes first.” Sam says, earning a firm head nod from Colby. “Anyways, you ready to start?” Sam turns the camera to Matt and gently pats his shoulder a few times. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” Matt replies with a gentle head nod. 

“Are you not gonna say goodbye to your siblings and girlfriend? You may never see them again if the ritual works.” Colby asks as he gestures towards you, Nick, and Chris. 

Matt turns around and sticks his arm out to Nick, who sends him a glare before hesitantly shaking his hand. 

“A hand shake?” Colby laughs softly as Nick wraps his arms around Matt and brings him in for a quick embrace. “See, that’s much better.” After pulling away, Chris and Matt share a firm handshake before also sharing a quick hug. 

“Okay, I’ll start googling places where we can get our licenses.” Nick says softly as he brings a hand up to rub his nape. 

“Dude, I’m not dead yet…” Matt says, a hurtful expression spreading across his face as he pulls away from Chris who smacks his chest a few times. 

“Yet.” Sam repeats, a small laugh escaping his lips as he watches Matt playfully shove Chris back. As the younger giggles softly, Matt turns to you, his gaze softening as he immediately brings you in for an embrace. Collective ‘awh’s come from all the boys when Matt lands a quick peck on your lips and forehead. 

“Leave your license behind before you go to another universe please.” Nick says, earning a rapid head nod from Chris. After pulling away from the hug, Matt shakes his head and digs in his pocket to pull out his wallet. As he wordlessly hands Nick his wallet, Chris comes up behind him and grabs both his shoulders. 

“I call dibs on that one jacket in your closet by the way.” Chris says, a large smile plastered on his lips as he massages the older’s shoulders. 

“Wonderful, alright. We’re all just claiming all my shit.” Matt says with a soft laugh. As the male turns to face you, he raises an eyebrow when he takes in your smiley face. “You too?” 

“I only want a few stuff.” You defend as you hold up your hand and pinch your pointer finger and thumb together. 

“Yeah, okay. Like that’s believable.” As Matt laughs and shakes his head gently, the sound of the elevator dinging causes all of you to quickly turn around. 

“What the fuck?” Colby mumbles, his face falling as he looks into the empty elevator. 

“Did you guys push anything?” Sam asks as he points a finger at you and the triplets. 

“No. Swear to God we didn’t.” Nick defends as he holds both his hands up. 

“It’s fucking midnight.” Colby states after his eyes scan over the numbers plastered on the top of his Lock Screen. He shows the camera his phone to ensure that he's telling the truth before turning the device to you and the rest of the boys. 

“I personally would not go in there.” Chris says as he wraps his arms around his torso, a nervous expression clear on his face. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t either.” You add as you reach your hand out to grab Matt’s. 

“Well, we can’t back out now. It is twelve o’clock after all.” Sam says, a heavy exhale leaving his lips as he looks over at Colby, the two locking eyes for a moment. “I think that we should start this ritual before more weird shit happens.” 

“Please be careful.” You say, your voice firm as you look up at Matt. The male looks down at you and gently cups the side of your face with a single hand, the pad of his thumb gently caressing your cheek in hopes of calming your sudden anxiety spike. 

“We will, don’t worry.” Sam reassures as he begins to walk towards the elevator. He looks inside the small space for a moment, ensuring that nothing and no one is inside before he hesitantly steps in. “You coming?” 

Matt quickly shifts his gaze from you to Sam who’s standing at the back of the elevator. “Yeah, I'm coming.” Matt replies. Before the male enters the elevator, he bends down a little to capture his lips in yours. He pulls back after a few seconds and gently caresses your face before joining Sam in the elevator. 

“You two be safe.” Chris calls as he moves to take a stand in between you and Nick. 

“Yeah, come back please!” Nick adds as he subconsciously wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you closer to him. 

“We’ll be back, promise.” Sam reassures as he sets a small device in the middle of the elevator. 

“Wait, I need photos for the prayer cards.” Nick states, a hand quickly digging in his pocket to fish his phone out. As he opens his camera and faces it towards Matt, the male holds up a small v, practically posing for the camera. You can’t help but giggle at the sight before Nick smiles proudly and puts his phone away. 

“Alright, we’re gonna start now guys.” Sam states as he walks up a few steps, his frame being inches away from the entrance of the elevator. After looking over at Matt and gaining a firm head nod from him, the two begin the ritual. 

“Please take us to another world.” Matt and Sam say in unison. The blonde reaches over to push a button to close the elevator and takes a few steps back to stand next to Matt. At the sight of the door closing, the male shouts out a small ‘oh god!’, a mix of fear and anxiousness filling his body as he eyes the door. 

“Matt, I love you have fun.” Nick says as he makes a small heart with both his hands. Matt sends the red-head a small smile before the doors finally close. 

“I really hope nothing bad happens.” Chris mumbles as he shakes his head slightly, nervousness bubbling in him as he stares at the closed elevator doors. 

“Me too.” Colby agrees as he forces his lips together in a straight line. The male momentarily turns his back to you and the two brothers to dig inside his backpack. After a few moments of searching, he pulls out two EMF readers and holds them out in front of him. “Which one of you guys would like to have the honors in holding one?” 

“I would love to have one.” Nick says, a small smile appearing on his lips as he bounces on his heels a few times. 

“Me too.” You add, landing a hand on Nick’s shoulder as the two of you step closer to Colby. The latter gently nods his head and hands the two of you an EMF reader. 

“Okay, how should we start this?” Colby asks as he leans his backpack against the wall and focuses the camera on you three. 

“We can start walking around to see if we get anything on the EMF readers.” You suggest with a small shrug. Colby nods his head at your suggestion and gestures for you and Nick to begin walking around with his hand. 

“Wait, didn’t the tour guide say that-“ 

“Your reader is going off!” Chris exclaims, accidentally cutting his older brother off as he points to the said device with his pointer finger. The youngest triplet seems to be correct as Nick looks down at the EMF reader in his hand and sees the device light up the first three levels. 

“You got anything yet y/n?” Colby asks as he zooms the lenses into Nick’s EMF reader to capture the activity. 

“Nope. Nothing yet.” You reply softly as you begin to walk a bit further away from the group, your eyes being locked onto the device in your hand the entire time. 

“The tour guide said that the bathroom is one of the most haunted places.” Nick states as he begins to gently wave the EMF reader about, trying to get it to spike up any further. “I think we should go see if we get any activity over there.” 

“Great idea, let’s head over there. Lead the way.” Colby gently nods his head towards Nick to encourage the male to lead the group to the bathrooms. The red-head complies and begins to walk towards a hallway a little ways to the right, the three of you following close behind him. 

“Let’s see…” Nick mumbles, more to himself than to anyone else. While you and the male walk around and inside the bathrooms, ya’ll don’t get much activity apart from a few spikes that went to yellow. 

“Let’s go back to the elevator. We’re not getting much.” You say as you walk out of the women’s bathroom, the door shutting behind you and coming in contact with the heels of your shoes. 

Colby nods his head and waits for Nick to return from the male’s bathroom before you guys walk back to the elevator. The moment you stand next to the elevator, your EMF reader spikes all the way to red. 

“Mine just went to red.” You say, your voice a little louder than usual to gain the attraction of the three males in the room. 

“Holy shit.” Colby mumbles as he quickly makes his way over to you. As he zooms his lens into the device in your hand, Nick and Chris come up to the other side of you and look down at your EMF reader. “Nick, you getting anything?” 

“Mines still at yellow.” The red-head replies, momentarily turning the reader so it can face the camera before he turns it back to face him. 

“Maybe we should pull out the onvoy and see if we get anything. You know, considering how much activity we’ve been getting around here already.” Colby suggests as he walks back to his backpack and pulls it open. 

“What’s that?” Chris asks, his head tilting slightly as he watches the ghost hunger pull a device out of his bag. 

“It’s basically a device that gives us yes or no responses through questions we ask.” Colby explains as he crouches down and sets the device on the floor. After turning it on and waiting for it to light up, he looks up at the three of you who are already intently looking at him. “Something just has to physically tap it like so for us to get a response.” Colby sets his pointer finger on the device for a moment and awaits for it to beep a few times and light up yes before he pulls away.

“That doesn’t sound too difficult.” You ponder aloud as you take a momentarily glance towards the EMF reader in your hand. 

“It’s not difficult whatsoever. Would you guys like to start asking some questions?” 

“Absolutely.” Chris replies with a small smile as the three of you take a seat around the onvoy. 

“If there are any spirits that would like to communicate with us tonight, please make yourself known by using this device to answer our questions. All you have to do is come up and touch it to let us know what your thoughts are.” Colby calls out, his head turning around a few times before he turns his focus back to you and the two brothers. 

“What should we ask first?” Nick asks gently, his eyes staying fixed on the EMF reader in his hand. 

“Do you think that Sam and Matt are gonna make it back to us?” Chris asks, anxiousness laced in his tone as he practically stares down at the onvoy. A few beats of silence pass by before the device dings a few times. 

Colby lets out a small gasp of surprise at the sound and leans in close to the onvoy. “It says yes!” The male exclaims happily as he zooms the lens into the response. 

The moment the male reads that aloud, the sound of the elevator dinging alerts the four of you. Quickly, you all turn around and collectively let out sighs of relief as the doors open and reveal Sam and Matt. 

“You’re done already?” Nick asks, his mouth agape as he watches the two males step out of the elevator rather quickly. 

“Yeah, we practically flew through all the floors.” Matt replies, a small, proud smile visible on his lips as he approaches the four of you who are still sitting on the floor. When the male stands behind you, you quickly turn your body to face him, a large smile spreading across your lips, as you immediately reach for your boyfriend’s hand. As you caress it gently and bring his hand up to your lips to land a small kiss on his knuckles, Sam takes a stand next to him. 

“Did you guys get anything?” The blonde asks as he stashes the device him and Matt were using in the elevator in his pocket. 

“No.” Colby replies with a frown. “We literally asked a single question.” 

“Yeah, the one question I asked is ‘Do you think that Sam and Matt are gonna make it back to us?” Chris adds as he gets himself up from the floor and dusts his pants off a little. “The moment it said yes, the door opened.” 

“It was crazy timing.” Nick comments as he follows suit in getting up off the floor. 

“Really?” Sam asks, his jaw dropping slightly as he looks over at Colby with pure shock in his face. 

“Really.” Nick confirms with a firm head nod. “We didn’t have time to ask a bunch of questions. Chris was the only person that got to ask a question.”

“Well, Sam and I encountered no issues while we were doing the ritual. We went through all the floors with ease. However, we didn’t really get anything with the device we were using. I mean, we did get a few words but I found them to be more random than anything.” 

“Yeah, that has got to be the fastest ritual we’ve ever experienced.” Colby comments, his head gently nodding as he looks between Sam and Matt. 

“It was pretty easy, nothing too difficult.” Matt says, his gaze falling to yours and his intertwined fingers. 

“Would you like to do it again then? But by yourself this time?” Sam inquires, a single eyebrow raising as he looks over at the brunette. 

Silence fills the lobby as you all stare at Matt, awaiting for his response. You manage to catch your boyfriend’s face falling slightly as he looks over at Sam, his eyes slightly wide as he locks eyes with him. Sensing the male’s sudden anxiety spike, you begin to play with his fingers in hopes of grounding him a little. 

Matt blinks hardly a few times as he looks down at you, his eyes basically pleading for you to answer the question for him. At the brunette’s gaze, you pick your free hand up and land a soft poke on his chest, signaling that it’s his call. You watch as the male sighs before he picks his head back up and looks up at his two brothers who shrug at him. Matt forces his lips together and looks over at Sam, his right hand coming up to his nape as he locks eyes with the blonde. 

“I would- I don’t-“ Matt sputters, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he digs in the pocket of his pants. “I’d have to write down the numbers…” 

“Is that a yes then?” Sam asks, excitement glossing over his eyes as he zooms the lens onto the male in front of him. After Matt gently nods his head in response, collective shouts of encouragement sounds from you and the boys. 

“You sure you wanna do it alone?” Chris asks as he walks up to the brunette, a single hand coming up to rest it on his brother's shoulder. “The chance of you never coming back is still there. You’ll be fully alone in another universe.” At the younger’s statement, Nick lands a harsh hit on Chris’s bicep, signaling him to shut up with an intense glare. 

“Well, you guys better start looking up ways to get me back if the ritual actually works.” Matt replies, a nervous smile overtaking his features as he begins to fiddle with the horse chain around his neck. 

Colby goes to add onto the conversation however, the sound of the elevator dinging alerts all six of you. You all turn around to face the elevator, fear running through y’all’s bodies at the sight of the doors opening more slower than usual. 

“I think that’s a sign, Matt.” Sam says as he lands a hand on the said male’s shoulder. 

“I guess I’ll go then. Could you text me the numbers?” Matt asks with a soft sigh. As Sam gently nods his head and fishes his phone out of his pocket, Colby walks up to the brunette. 

“You wanna take this camera?” The ghost hunter asks as he holds the said device out in front of him. 

“Sure.” Colby sends Matt a small smile when the male hesitantly takes the camera from him. 

“Matt, please be careful. Like I'm being so for real. I have no idea what we would do without you.” Nick says, a frown overtaking his features as he walks up the middle triplet and lands both his hands on his shoulders. 

“I will, don’t worry. If you guys focus on asking questions, I will be back in no time.” Matt reassures, a comforting smile spreading across his lips as he brings the red-head in for a quick embrace. 

“Wait, me too. I want a hug as well.” Chris whines as he quickly makes his way over to the three of you. Nick pulls away with a small eye roll and steps aside to allow the younger to get his hug. 

“I sent you the numbers. You can head in when you’re ready.” Sam says, his voice soft as he picks his head up and looks over at Matt, the hand that’s holding his phone digging inside his pocket to put the said device away. 

“Word.” Matt replies. After Chris breaks away from the hug and steps back, Matt looks over at you and takes in your worried features. “I promise I’ll be alright. I’ll be back in no time.” Your boyfriend gently cups your face with his free hand, the pad of his thumb gently caressing over your soft skin. 

You gently nod your head, the faint frown on your lips not faltering as you look deep into your boyfriend’s blue irises that hold a sense of anxiousness. Matt brings your face closer to his to bring you in for a quick kiss. Before pulling away, he nibbles on your bottom lip for a moment. 

The brunette removes his hand from your face and gives you a small smile before he turns around to face Sam. “I’m ready.” The male says. 

“Alright, go ahead and step in.” Sam instructs as he gestures towards the open and empty elevator. Matt immediately does as instructed and hesitantly steps inside the elevator, a heavy sigh escaping him as he raises the hand that’s holding the camera. “You know what to say.” The blonde says with a smile as he gives the younger male a thumbs up with his free hand.  

Matt looks straight at the camera, his tongue slipping out of his mouth to drag over his slightly chapped lips momentarily, before he begins the ritual. “Please take me to another world. I may regret saying that but hey, see you guys later.” Matt takes a final glance at all of you standing a few steps away from the doors of the elevator before he steps toward the panel full of bottoms. 

“We love you Matt!” Chris exclaims, both his hands coming up to cup over his mouth to get his voice to project more loudly. 

“Be safe!” You add, sliding over to Nick and wrapping an arm around his. You manage to catch Matt waving goodbye before the doors of the elevator finally shut. 

“Guys, go subscribe to the Sturniolos.” Sam states as he turns the camera in his hand and points at it. 

“And comment about how ballsy Matt is. I’m actually so shocked about how he’s been doing this whole investigation. He’s usually never this open and talkative during stuff like this.” Nick says as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah, I'm actually really proud of him. He's doing phenomenal.” Colby compliments as he gently claps a few times. 

“Let’s just hope he hasn’t been too open today. We don’t want him to get any-“ Sam gets cut off by Colby harshly digging his elbow into his side. The blonde winces softly and flinches at the touch, his eyes narrowing as he sends a glare towards his friend. 

“Get any what?” You ask, panic flooding in you as you take in Colby’s serious expression. 

“Nothing. We should start asking some questions before Matt comes back.” Colby replies, a small smile appearing on his lips as he turns back around. You share a worried look with Nick and Chris before the three of you, including Sam, join Colby in sitting on the floor around the onvoy. “Who would like to ask the first question?” 

“I would.” Nick says, picking his head up to lock eyes with Colby. After gaining a small head nod from the male, he takes a deep inhale before speaking, “Was sending Matt alone a good decision?” A few beats of silence pass by before the onvoy dings. Nick bends down slightly to read the response. “Yes!” 

“Will Matt find more information regarding what happened at the hotel?” Chris asks as he brings his knees up to his chest and rests his chin on them. The onvoy dings seconds after the question. “No…” 

“Alright..” You mumble. You clear your throat before asking your question, “Will someone join Matt in the elevator when he reaches the fifth floor?” Like earlier, the onvoy immediately dings as it lights up a response. “Yes. Well isn’t that nice. Doesn’t make my anxiety worse at all.” 

The boys all giggle at your statement as you rub your face with both your hands. 

“Is Matt in any danger?” Sam asks, momentarily turning the camera around to put himself in the frame before he turns it back around. Again, the onvoy immediately dings a response. You and the boys take a moment to pause and exchange anxious looks before yall lean in and read the response. 

“Yes.” 

༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ

20 minutes have gone by as you and the boys took turns asking questions to the spirits willing to communicate with you guys. Some of the questions have gotten rapid responses while others have taken a little longer to reply. As time slowly ticked away, you felt anxiety bubble inside of you. Matt should’ve been back by now considering how he and Sam returned in less than 10 minutes when they did the ritual. You found yourself continuously looking over at the closed elevator everytime someone else in the group spoke up to ask a question, hoping that the doors would open and reveal your boyfriend. Unfortunately it never happened and the doors remained shut. 

“Okay, I'm getting really worried. He should be back by now.” You say, your gaze on the closed elevator doors shifting up to the number 10 glowing brightly in large, bold lettering. 

“Well, he’s on the tenth floor right now. All he has to do is go to five and come back.” Sam says as he takes a seat against the wall facing the elevator, his arms coming up to cross over his chest. 

“Okay true but what’s taking him so long?” Nick asks, a single hand coming up to his mouth. As the red-head begins to bite on his polished nails, Chris takes a glance over at your focused state. He forces his lips into a straight line, worry and anxiety filling his veins at the thought of Matt not returning. 

“He’s at five.” Colby states as he points at the glowing number atop the elevator. The rest of the boys join you and the ghost hunter in looking over at the elevator. 

“Please come back.” You whisper under your breath, a sudden lump forming in your throat as you swallow dryly. As you shakily exhale, a sudden poke on your side causes you to jump rather harshly. “What the fuck?” You mumble as you quickly hug your torso and turn around.

“What happened?” Chris asks, his head whipping around to look over at you. 

“Did one of you guys poke me?” You ask as you lift your head up. 

“None of us touched you.” Colby says as he lifts both his hands up in the air. A wave of nausea suddenly hits you as you slowly turn around to look at Sam, the sight of him looking at you worriedly causing your stomach to churn. As you go to question the blonde, soft giggles bubble up your throat as you feel a series of rapid pokes travel down your other side. After the feeling vanishes, you stumble to your feet and run over to where Nick and Chris are, fear washing over you as you desperately rub your sides to try and get the ghostly feeling away. 

“Samantha.” Sam mumbles under his breath, his eyes slightly going wide as he looks over at your panicked state. 

“Samantha, if that's you, please leave her alone. You do not have permission to touch her.” Colby states, his tone holding a sense of authority as he takes a few quick glances around the room. 

At the mention of the child’s name, Nick’s eyes widen in a mix of terror and shock and he quickly looks down at you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around your slightly shorter frame and brings you flush against him. 

“Samantha, are you messing with y/n?” Chris asks as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, his gaze falling to the unused onvoy on the floor. 

The said device immediately beeps in response. 

Colby lifts himself up from the wall he’s leaning against and walks up to the onvoy. His tall frame bends down slightly before his eyes skim over the response. 

“It says yes.” Colby says, his gaze lifting up from the device and shifting over to Sam. The two share a frightened look as you feel your heart drop to your feet. You quickly turn around and bury your face in Nick’s clothed chest, your breath beginning to pick up as you clutch onto the male’s arms rather desperately.

“It’s okay.” Nick whispers as he rests his chin on the top of your head. As he begins to rub comforting circles on your back with his palm, the sound of the elevator dinging pierces your ears. You quickly lift your head and look over at the elevator, the rest of the boys soon doing the same. 

“Matt?” You call out, your voice cracking slightly as you slip out of Nick’s hold and run to the elevator. 

“y/n wait!” Chris exclaims, his arm extending out to go to grab you and pull you back. His attempt fails however as you slip through the opening of the elevator, not even waiting for the door to fully open. The moment you step inside, you feel your breath get caught in your throat .

Matt isn’t in the elevator. 

And the only thing inside is the camera and his horse necklace. 

·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:· TagList ·:¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨:·

@freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @patscorner @rootbeerworshiper

comment to be added to the taglist and click here to know more abt it!

[bandgie]

The Sin of Flesh | Armageddon Event

Request: Forbidden Fruit | Hwang Hyunjin by anon song!

warnings! MDNI18+, fem!reader, hyunjin has scars on his back, church is abusive, oral (f!rec), fingering (light), crying (m!), succumbs!reader x prophet!hyunjin, some comfort

a/n: im really nervous posting this idk why...anywho enjoy!

2.5k words

A heart of gold. A soul free of sin. Maintaining his purity in every aspect has been a challenge for Hyunjin, but it has all been for something greater than him.

The temple has claimed him as Chosen: a prophet, a foreseer. So long as Hyunjin keeps his pureness alive, his third eye will remain open.

Truthfully, there’s been slip-ups. There were times when he couldn’t think with anything other than the head in his pants. Punishments were the only way to get rid of his sins. His back bears the marks of such endorsements. Hyunjin has since sworn to devote himself to their God, to the power of the priest and priestess.

But having such a strong ardor only wakes the creatures in hell.

Slipping into holy ground is difficult for a demon like you. The Earth would usually burn your feet and though you have wings, they’re much too small for anything other than decor. You’ve been planning on taking the Chosen since he was picked. It didn’t take long to find a priest who was willing to invite you on the ground and into his bed.

It’s the reason why you’re able to tread freely, keeping your eyes on Hyunjin’s room.

You can practically see his life force glowing from the window above. It intimidates you, anything holy would, but you press forward.

The stones on the wall stick out enough for you to climb. It only takes a few scrapes and nicks before you find yourself peering into the room of your prey. Alone, in the dark, and asleep.

Wait, no, not asleep. You can see the dim candle creating just enough light to see his back. What looks like an easel sits before him with strokes of color on the canvas that Hyunjin creates. 

His wakefulness will make things more…difficult. There’s no way he wouldn’t be able to hear you crack the window open or tiptoe your way in. But you’re already here. You’ve already told yourself Hyunjin is your meal. 

You’d be damned if you stopped now. 

The window is already unlocked and it takes little effort to push it open. Though the hinges don’t squeak, it’s the floorboards beneath that give away your presence.

Hyunjin turns, flushed. You think the blush on his face is from surprise, but one look down at his crotch says otherwise.

He’s got a hand under his robe, a small stain that darkens the satin fabric. 

Hyunjin fumbles immediately. A cup of water mixed with paint spill on the marble floor. His paintbrush falls from the hand that isn’t attached to his cock. With wide eyes, he stutters, “Y-you! You’re not supposed to be here!”

You can’t help but smile. Words begin to form on your tongue, but you can’t help but notice the painting. Being fully in Hyunjin’s quarters gives you a better view of his art and you’re somewhat shocked to see that these brush strokes are much more than mere streaks.

It’s a man embracing a woman from the back. His hand grabs her throat as they sit on their knees, her breasts exposed to the world. 

Or to Hyunjin, specifically.

“Oh my.” You stalk forward. The painting grows with more detail with every step. The peak of her nipples to the slit of her cunt. “You seem to have quite the talent, oh holy Chosen One.”

Hyunjin blushes further. The tips of his ears burn red and he can do nothing but ignore the elephant in the room. “You can’t be here.”

“So you’ve said. But I suppose you can draw such treacherous art here, right?” You glance down. “With a hand in your robe, no less.”

Though Hyunjiin’s expression is nothing short of horrified, you’re quite cheerful. “Oh don’t look like that. I quite like it.”

“Of course you would. You’re a devil spawn.”

To that, you have nothing to say. Instead, you study the canvas.

Hyunjin could banish you. He could chant a few prayers that would have you crawling back to hell, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even stop you from inspecting his art as if waiting for your feedback.

It’s the outline of the cunt that catches your attention. He’s got the basics down - a little clit and lips that look more like a mouth than anything else.

Not bad, but it could use some work.

“This,” you point to it. “You’re missing some things.”

Hyunjin follows your fingers, going as far as to slightly bend his neck to lower himself.

His eyes flick to you then back to his painting. He’s too nervous to say anything. Speaking to a succubus like you is bad news, but if you’re giving him pointers…

“There’s a little hood on this part. And it looks more like if a mouth turned into a flower.” You keep explaining, and to your utter surprise, Hyunjin listens. His eyebrows pinch together in thought and suddenly, the little wings on your back and the thin tail attached to your tailbone are an afterthought. 

You put your hands on your hips, facing him. “Have you never seen a cunt up close, Hyunjin?”

He’s so close to you now that he’s bending to your level. His face is still blushing, his lips even more red than his cheeks. Hyunjin’s slender eyes widen at your question, pretty pupils expanding in the warmth of his brown eyes.

His beauty alone should be a sin.

“I-I…I don’t have to answer you.” But his voice shakes. His full, bottom lip trembles at both the sight of you and your words. Humans tend to wear their emotions in their eyes - the windows to their soul as you’ve learned - but this man seems to have his heart on his sleeve as well. 

The look of fear though. You don’t think it’s from you being a demon. “I’m not gonna tell.”

“Y-You’re not?” He blinks.

“I’m not. I just wanted to give you some…suggestions. That is if you don’t mind.”

Dangerous curiosity sparks in Hyunjin’s soft eyes. They flick back to you and the canvas like he's weighing your offer in his head. “I…I don’t know.”

Ah, he just needs a little bit more convincing. You don’t say anything as you turn away from him, walking to the massive white bedstead. Sheer curtains hang from the side and you use the back of your hand to brush it aside to sit on his bed.

Your legs part just slightly, the mound of your tight underwear barely hiding your cunt.

“I could show you right here. Give you a good look.” His eyes lock on your pussy covered by the layer. Hyunjin gulps, fingers clenching and unclenching with uncertainty.

“Come on,” you purr. “It’ll be our secret.”

Hyunjin can hear the reprimands of the priests. He can feel the healed lashes on his back sting, but he walks forward anyway. Each step has those drowning out in his ears. It’s your eyes that call to him, low and welcoming. The smell of your cunt as he gets on his knees soothes the burning of his scars.

You do the honors of pulling the top of your underwear so it stretches over your pussy. The shape of your lips is prominent this way, giving Hyunjin just a glimpse of what’s underneath. “You never answered my question, Hyunjin. Have you ever been this close to a cunt?”

Yes and no. Hyunjin has felt how it is to embrace a woman. Feel how their walls spasm and leak on his cock. Not many, but enough for him to understand the mechanics of everything. He convinced himself that it wasn’t him sinning, but something he couldn’t quite get under control. As long as it was his dick getting acquainted with the warmth of a woman, it didn’t count.

Explaining this is much harder out loud, so Hyunjin simply says, “Not like this.”

But you’ll take that as an answer. “Mm. Now you can. Wanna take them off for me?” You tug on your panties for effect, catching your clit in just the right way. Hyunjin sees your legs twitch and if he was thinking of saying no, that changes his mind immediately.

He nods, slipping his shaky fingers on the sides of your underwear to slide them down your plush thighs.

It’s hardly surprising to see your arousal cling to your underwear. Not necessarily because you’re horny, but that’s just how it is being a succubus. The male counterpart won’t have to do much in order to get you prepped, helping in getting his energy force quicker. 

Hyunjin doesn’t know this fact, so seeing those strings, wet and creamy, makes his jaw drop.

He continues sliding your underwear down until it hangs off one of your ankles. You can’t help but smile at his wide eyes. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, saliva making it shine.

Having his mouth so close to your cunt makes you involuntarily tense. Hyunjin seems to notice your restlessness because he gently places his hand just below your pelvis. His hand is warm, fingers long enough to reach down and play with your clit, but he doesn’t.

Instead, Hyunjin pulls the skin upwards, causing your pussy to stretch. Your flesh peeks through your folds, pink and throbbing.

You bite the inside of your cheeks, spreading your legs more so he can see everything you have to give. It’s the sight of your clit, however, that catches attention. You swear you can see drool pooling from the corner of his mouth.

“You can touch it if you want.” Your words break his trance, his blown pupils looking at yours. “I don’t bite.”

He fights with himself. You can see the inner turmoil wreaking havoc in his mind. It doesn’t take long, however, before he chooses what’s already in front of him. 

Hyunjin’s lips are warm against yours. His bottom lip drags upwards to meet his top one, getting your arousal to smear just slightly. When he kisses again, it’s straight to your clit.

A hum vibrates in your chest. You carry your weight with one hand flat on the bed while the other cups Hyunjin’s cheek. He slightly jumps at first, as if not used to being treated tenderly.

It’s a whole array of emotions in his eyes: hunger, need, uncertainty, contentment, and everything in between. You coo at him, “It’s okay, Hyunjin. You can keep eating.”

Hyunjin is used to false promises. Women would swear to keep their mouths shut about sleeping with him, but it soon would get out that a lucky gal was able to have the Chosen One in their bed. A great boast that led to Hyunjin’s unorthodox punishments.

But with you, demon and all, he feels safe. Something about the raw look in your eyes and how you smile so endearingly makes him want to trust again.

So he leans into your touch, tilting his head so that he can get a good angle with his tongue. 

Hyunjin swipes down, momentarily flicking against your entrance before bringing up the arousal. The back of his tongue swipes over your clit and you arch into his mouth.

“Ah! It feels so good when you lick me there.”

He didn’t know, but he had a feeling. Especially when he places it between his lips and sucks, he knows that the trembling of your legs is from pleasure.

Every second he would spend responding is wasted by not being in your cunt, so Hyunjin chooses to nod. It's little grunts and groans that escape him from your taste. You can’t imagine when was the last time Hyunjin had pussy with how he presses against you eagerly, but you’re glad he was starved for some time.

Strong hands grip the underside of your thighs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed. With control over your lower body, Hyunjin can bury himself as deeply as he wants. His nose touches your bud while his tongue explores your entrance.

You moan, letting your hand wander past his face, through his hair, and underneath his robe. You mean to scratch and grip his back, but when you feel ridges, you stop.

Even Hyunjun slows his tongue. It stills inside of you, waiting to see what you’ll do, what’ll say. 

With care a demon shouldn’t have, you run the pads of your fingers along the scar. It’s tissue being opened and healed repeatedly, leaving a prominent lash on his skin he’ll have to bear for life.

You pout, looking at Hyunjin who now looks at you full of…something you can’t quite place your finger on. Worry, maybe. But not if you’ll hurt him, but how you feel about it.

“They did this to you?” You don’t need to say who. For praising love and acceptance, the church has a hypocritical way of doing the exact opposite. And because Hyunjin still doesn’t want to part with your taste, he only nods mournfully.

You smooth over his scars. “You didn’t deserve that.” And for better or worse, you mean it. Hyunjin’s only sin is love - for flesh and acceptance. You can see it when he gazes at you. You can feel it when his tongue pulls out to lap over your clit momentarily.

You pull your hand from his robe, putting it back onto his cheek for condolence. “Stay with me, Hyunjin. I’ll accept all of you. No more loneliness, no more cruelty. Just you and me.”

Pretty tears well in his eyes. It might feel strange for others to know that the man between your legs is on the verge of crying, but with you, it feels right.

As though all is meant to be.

Finally, he pulls from your cunt. “You will?”

“I will.” You rub over his smooth cheek. “I can take you away from all this.”

It’s almost too good to be true. Sure, he has many perks of being favored by his God, but he didn’t ask for it. He didn’t ask to be the Chosen One, constantly watched and judged for every move he makes.

He wants an escape. You may have appeared as a demon, but he knows you're his angel with their halo disguised as the devil’s horns.

A small tear falls down his pretty face. “Thank you.”  A kiss to your cunt. Then another one. He soon repeats words of gratitude with praiseful pecks.

Thank you, thank you.

This could easily be chalked up as a lie. A big fib just to make this prophet fall to sin, and although that’s your ultimate goal, you find yourself wanting to keep your promises.

He’s so sweet when he sucks on your clit, his tears mingling with your arousal. You can only comfort him with the warmth between your legs and dragging your fingers through his hair. Not that Hyunjin would want anything more than that. This place is where he’s always belonged.

And when he has your essence dripping down his chin, fingers confidently beginning to replace his tongue, you know you’ll keep him safe. With you.

[transvampireboyfriend]

this was supposed to be a headcanon, just me explaining that I want to see their routines bleed into each others and it turned into 3k words. So, you can also read it on ao3 here. And here are the rings I was visualizing. I hope you enjoy it <3

One of the first nights he stays over, Eddie stands outside Steve's bathroom door and asks Steve what he's doing in there.

He got in before Eddie went to shower across the hall and Eddie's clean and changed into his borrowed PJs now, and Steve's still in there, and it sounds like he's banging pots and pans inside.

Steve laughs, but calls "Don't laugh,"

Eddie swears "I would never," as Steve opens the door, and when Steve comes out with his face covered in green goo, instead of laughing, Eddie gasps.

"What's that?" Eddies asks, his finger already drawing a line across Steve's cheek.

Before Steve can answer, Eddie puts the goo into his mouth.

Steve's eyes go wide as plates.

"Eddie!" he protests "You're not supposed to eat it! What if it's toxic?"

"Is it?" Eddie asks, licking his teeth, "tastes like cucumber. But like, way too clean,"

Steve chuckles, "It is made of cucumber, its a mask. Supposed to keep your skin nice." he explains, going back into his bathroom to cover the strip that Eddie scrubbed with more of the goo.

Eddie does not hesitate to follow after him. Hopping up on the ample counter to observe.

"Well, it's doing its job well, I think" Eddie points out.

Steve tries his best not to smile. "Thanks," he says "You're not freaked out by it?" he asks,

"I think it's cool" Eddie shrug,

Steve can't help his smile this time.

"Well this works out well because I have to keep it on for 10 minutes and this way i won't get bored." Steve offers, "What were you saying about Stevie Nicks before?"

Eddie talks his ear off while Steve tidies up the containers in his counter.

Once it's time to wash the mask off, Eddie watches him, then, he dutifully washes his own hands so he can poke a finger at one of Steve's cheeks.

He says it's cool to the touch and really soft. He approves.

Steve feels butterflies fluttering inside his chest.

☀♡☀♡

After that, it becomes a habit, Eddie goes and showers and changes and when he's ready for bed he comes keep Steve company, knocks twice for Steve to open the door and once he does he walks in and takes his place up on the counter.

A few months after they get together, Steve notices Eddie staring during a lull in their conversation while Steve is going through his skin care.

He's done it before a few times in the past weeks, Steve figured he was maybe off on a train of thought but now he's curious. Eddie's got his head tilted to the side, his mouth is scrunched up like he's stopping himself from saying something and he's fiddling with his rings, and suddenly something clicks for Steve.

He's applying a mask with a little wooden applicator and he extends it towards Eddie, presents it in front of his big beautiful brown eyes.

"D'you wanna try?" he offers

Eddie's eyes twinkle. His mouth blooms into a smirk, his dimples showing up as he enthusiastically nods and cranes his neck forward, like the only possible option is for Steve to apply it for him.

Steve laughs quietly, stepping closer to him and placing a kiss to his cheek.

"Why didn't you say?" he asks, still kissing him, his lips moving against Eddie's cheeks and making him giggle.

"I don't know" Eddie says "What if you didn't wanna share it? You've said before, this stuff is personal"

Steve draws back and immediately goes back in to press kisses against Eddie's other cheek.

"Well, yeah, we have to get you your own stuff if you like it, but you can share mine for now, sunshine." another kiss. "I don't mind." and another kiss "I would love for you to share it actually" he presses one final kiss and draws back to admire his work: Eddie's smile as wide as it gets and Eddie's cheeks tinted with the softest, prettiest red.

"You have to teach me." Eddie demands "I know I've watched you do it since forever, but i don't think I can do it on my own" he adds.

Steve smiles, completely enamored "You've done it for me before. Several times" he points out

"Yeah, with you coaching me through it!" Eddie whines, "I'd mess it all up" he's so serious, Steve finds it incredibly endearing.

Steve chuckles and leans over to press a small kiss against the bridge of Eddie's nose. "Mmkay" he murmurs "we gotta wash your face first"

☀♡☀♡

Little by little, Eddie gets confident enough to do it himself. Once he understands what everything does and sees the effects it all has on his skin, he even picks and chooses the steps he wants to do each day.

Steve loves it so much he can't put it into words. And he loves that he doesn't have to do this alone anymore.

Even when they're apart Eddie calls while Steve goes through his routine, sometimes they do it together but over the phone. Even when Eddie doesn't feel like doing anything at all he still sits by him and they talk about everything and nothing. Steve never imagined something so simple could make him so happy.

☀♡☀♡☀♡☀♡☀♡☀♡

For Eddie, it's even more simple but just as important.

The first time he catches Steve eyeing his rings is while he's being forced to listen to a Tears for Fears record.

Steve insists that they're good, Eddie's been staunchly refusing, but only because he likes seeing Steve get riled up. He gets bitchy and Eddie thinks he's the hottest person he's ever met.

Eddie's been trying to rile him up again as they lay on his bed and listen to the record, but Steve is not listening, his eyes are trained on Eddie's hands as he moves them around to explain his points. Once he figures it out, Eddie goes quiet for a bit, just moves a hand.

Steve's eyes follow it.

Eddie slides his skull ring off his hand and offers a waiting hand.

Steve's hazel eyes look at the ring, then at his waiting palm, then at Eddie. Eddie raises his eyebrows and smiles encouragingly and Steve finally places his hand in his.

Eddie slides the ring on and off three of Steve's fingers before he finds the right fit.

"There you go" he says, his voice quiet under the music. His throat dry from all the places they're touching.

Steve raises his hand above their heads, turns it around as he looks at the ring.

"I like it" Steve decides with a smile.

"You can keep it" Eddie says, without thinking.

Steve looks at him with wide beautiful eyes. "I- I don't" he stammers,

"Oh" Eddie says "I mean, you don't have to. It's okay" he tells him.

Steve shakes his head a little. "It's not-" he seems to have trouble finding the words.

"Give it here" Eddie supplies after a beat, offering up his waiting palm again.

Steve puckers his lips and slides the ring off his hand, places it on Eddie's waiting palm for him to slide it back on.

☀♡☀♡

After that, Eddie expects the looks will stop, maybe Steve just wanted to see what it was like to wear one, that's okay.

But, that same weekend, while they're smoking, lying on Eddie's bed this time, Steve is doing it again, his eyes focused on Eddie's fingers whenever they pass the blunt between them.

Eddie tries a different approach this time.

"Which one do you like?" he asks,

When Steve raises his eyebrows, Eddie raises both his hands above their heads, clicks his rings together.

"Which one do I like the most?" Steve asks,

Not what Eddie said, but-

"Sure" he shrugs, intrigued.

"Hmm" Steve hums, bringing his fingers up to trace Eddie's rings. Eddies tries his best to suppress his shiver.

Steve finally lands on a ring, one with a deep brown stone in it.

"This one." he states quietly.

Wordlessly, Eddie hooks his right pinky around Steve's left index finger and holds on while he twists their hands around to slide the ring off his finger and onto Steve's.

"It's pretty" Steve comments, slowly disentangling their hands.

Eddie hums an assent.

Steve moves his hand around. "Feels heavy." he notices.

Eddie turns his head to look at Steve's face. "Yeah," he confirms.

He waits until Steve looks back at him to offer.

"Do you want that one?" Eddie whispers.

Steve looks into both his eyes, one after the other and the handsomest smile blooms on his face, he nods.

"If I can have it." Steve whispers back.

Eddie clears his throat so his voice is not so hoarse "It's yours" he confirms with a smile of his own.

"Thanks, Eds. I'm gonna buy one for you to replace it" Steve promises, admiring his ring.

"You don't have to" Eddie tells him, "I'm giving it to you"

"I know. I want to" Steve says.

Steve holds their blunt to Eddie's lips again, says "Tell me about your song again" and once Eddie leans up and takes the blunt, Steve hooks their pinkies together.

Eddie tells him about the bridge he found and how he can't quite find an ending.

☀♡☀♡

A week or so later they share their first kiss. Huddled together under Steve's bed covers in the middle of the night.

In between that night and the first time they tug at each other's clothes, tucked inside Eddie's van in the early hours of the morning after a very intense Corroded Coffin gig, Steve continues taking Eddie's rings and wearing them for random stretches of time.

He calls Eddie "sunshine" and Eddie calls him "sweetheart". They cook for each other and then together, they watch movies, they talk after they have nightmares, well into the sunrise. They go for swims and they have picnics and they hold hands.

Eddie takes his rings off to go to the bathroom and often he'll come back to find one missing, or, not really missing, just on one of Steve's fingers. Steve usually gives it back by the end of their hangout or the next day they see each other.

Sometimes, Steve takes the rings right off Eddie's hand and Eddie lets him. Steve tries on each and every one, and keeps his favorite, rearranging the rest on Eddie's hands in some particular way, by size, or by color, or by "symbolism" he said once. Eddie adores him.

Those rings he usually gets back within the week.

Some other times, Steve will have a specific request, he even called Eddie once to ask if he could borrow a specific ring he thought would go well with the outfit he had planned for their date the next day. Eddie was delighted.

The first rings Eddie buys for Steve are an ordeal for him. He's so nervous, afraid that Steve won't like them, or that he won't want to have any of his own (even though he wears the one with the brown stone every day), or that he'll refuse to accept them.

He tells Steve that the girl that helped him said he could exchange them even for store credit if he didn't like them. Which, is a lie, but Eddie can make it happen if need be.

Thankfully, he doesn't have to, Steve loves them. Eddie chose one of intertwined metal bands, one with the phases of the moon around it and one that looks like arms are hugging Steve's finger. Steve especially likes that last one.

After that, Eddie takes Steve with him when he goes shopping for rings.

The first ring Steve buys for Eddie, the one that's supposed to "replace" the one with the brown stone, is a sun signet. Eddie maybe tears up a little bit.

It becomes such a part of them, that soon it's virtually impossible to say whose rings are in their bedside table.

Some mornings one of them is in charge of assigning the rings. Some others whoever gets to the side table first gets to choose his rings and leave the rest for the other. Regardless, Eddie loves to sit down and watch Steve pick out and put on his rings for the day. Taking time out of his day, every. single. morning. When he didn't wear rings before Eddie gifted him one. It makes Eddie want to cling to him and press kisses to his beautiful hair.

Some days, when it's Steve's turn to assign the rings he gets a little too into it. Organizing and reorganizing them in different ways, always in neat little rows until they're five minutes late and Eddie has to force himself to say "Stevie, we have to go" even though he could watch Steve organize things and mumble around the explanations for each method for days on end.

The real kicker though, is when Steve buys rings for Eddie that are more Steve's style. He buys rings for Eddie that he would like to wear himself. Because he knows eventually, he'll end up wearing Eddie's rings, no matter what. It's such a declaration of his intent to stick around that Eddie never quite knows what to say.

Steve also plays with his rings now, just as he plays with Eddie's, fiddles with them, removes them for cooking or cleaning, puts them in his pockets or in his glove compartment, they're a part of him as much as Eddie's rings are a part of Eddie, as much as Steve is a part of Eddie.

Eddie likes when their rings clink together when they hold hands, he loves feeling Steve's rings against his skin, in the small of his back or up his sides beneath his shirt. And he absolutely adores stealing Steve's rings too, slipping them off his fingers and into his own, feeling the residual warmth form where Steve's been going about his day with this piece of metal in his hand, Eddie can think of nothing better.

☀♡☀♡

"Eds have you seen my ring?" Steve asks him one night, coming into the kitchen where Eddie's making them pancakes for dinner.

"You're gonna have to be a little bit more specific, big boy" Eddie answers, flipping a pancake.

"No, Eddie" Steve presses, the panic in his tone finally registering and Eddie immediately turns to look at him.

His hair is a mess, like he's been pulling on it, even though he was in the middle of his shower when Eddie left him to come make dinner.

"Oh," Eddie says, finally understanding he means the ring with the brown stone. "I don't have it baby, where did you see it last?" Eddie asks, turning off the stove.

"I left it in the bedside table!" Steve explains, clearly frustrated "it's not there anymore, and it's not on the drawers or on the bed or in the floor or behind the door. I don't know where it is." he finishes, tears forming in his eyes.

Eddie hates seeing him so stressed, he walks up to him and runs his hand up and down his arms.

"We'll find it sweetheart, it's okay. Did you check under the dresser?" Eddie asks.

There was a dresser in their house when they bought it, inside their bedroom. Apparently, the previous owner did not want to deal with the trouble of getting it out and as it turned out, neither did Steve and Eddie. It was a beautiful vintage piece of furniture and it was heavy as a motherfucker.

"Oh. I didn't?" Steve says, "How would it get all the way there?"

The dresser is placed across their bed, so in the wall opposite their bedside tables.

"It seems crazy, but it's happened with a couple of mine" Eddie tells him, "I'm telling you, this place is on a slant" he says, already grabbing Steve and tugging him towards their bedroom.

"Fuck, I hope it's there" he mumbles.

"It will be," Eddie assures him

"What if it went down the drain?" Steve anxiously asks,

"You almost never leave your rings in the bathroom, handsome"

"But what if I did?" Steve insists,

"Then I will go down to the sewers to get it for you" Eddie tells him as they enter their bedroom.

Steve goes to get on the floor but Eddie brings their joined hands to his lips and presses a kiss there, says "Here, I'll look" and gets on his hands and knees in front of their dresser.

Sure enough, there's a small shadow at the very back, the object nearly touching the wall. Eddie comes up to tell Steve and bangs his head against one of the dresser handles.

"Jesus!" Steve exclaims, rubbing Eddie's head for him, "Is it there?" he asks.

Eddie scrunches his eyes shut against the pain and gives Steve a thumbs up, "Mmhm, I think so," he confirms, "You have a ruler on your desk," he tells Steve

Without needing another word Steve goes and gets it for him.

When Eddie finally fishes the ring out, Steve grabs it and clutches it to his chest

"Ohmygod. Thank you" he says, leaning his head against the dresser.

Eddie gets up off the floor and drags him to stand in front of him as Eddie sits in their bed.

Steve takes a couple of moments to breathe deeply, letting go of the last dregs of his panic. Eddie clings to Steve's waist and noses his shirt up to kiss the scarred skin on his side.

Steve finally chuckles softly, bunches his fingers up at the top of Eddie's head.

"Does it hurt too much?" he asks, rubbing at Eddie's head again.

Eddie shakes his head.

Steve switches to petting his hair and softly laughs "God, I almost got a heart attack"

Eddie chuckles, leaning his chin on Steve's stomach to look up at him.

"I love you" he reminds him.

Steve traces his dimples, says "I love you", then grabs one of Eddie's hands from his waist and slides the ring on his hand.

"It's your job to take care of it now. When I'm not wearing it" Steve tells him.

"I will." Eddie promises.

Inevitably, Steve ends up taking care of Eddie's sun signet whenever he's not wearing it, just in case.

The longest they wear those rings for the other is a few months, between getting engaged and exchanging them again at their wedding ceremony.

[midnight-mourning]

All Aboard

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 27❄️❄️

Once again, Pom, your brain is massive, this was a LOT of fun, i saw the words 'magic' and 'fae elements' and the pot started boiling over ashjadk, anywho, please enjoy!

Prompt: second request >:3c (but no pressure!!) I havent read all the other folks yet to see if there was a Polar Express/Train ride type oneshot. I feel like train conductor/surrealism vibes would be a delight, with holiday magic and spritely, fae elements sprinkled in. Maybe getting lost on to the destination--or the train getting stopped due to a snowstorm. (Very Nana, if you watched that anime haha) Perhaps, yn is in clear emotional distress bc of smth happening interpersonally leading up. Texting, phones, drama. Do they even want to go home…? … (Will they go back home? >:)) mweheh.)

Word Count: 2811

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

The train whistle blares loudly outside, starting to roll down the tracks. You watch out the window as the station begins to fade away, sighing as snow hits the pane every so often. You check you phone again when it buzzes, another message to add to the pile. Another half-hearted apology you're guessing. 

You're about to look in detail when you stop, cursing yourself and shaking your head. You got on this train for that exact reason, to avoid having to speak to them. You weren't going to give in, you just, needed a break. To go somewhere, anywhere really. 

Your ticket was for home, and the idea of being back in your apartment sounds better and better by the moment. You sink back in the seat again, already liking the sound of being back in your own bed with your own food and your own life. You never should have come here, should've listened to your friends, they'd been right all along. 

You feel a headache coming on, either from the stress, or the exhaustion of crying so much. Or even, the nagging of your friends as they brag and say they told you so. Which, they did, but you didn't need to hear it again. At least you had a day or so. The trip back was long, requiring you to get a sleeper car, where most of your belongings resided currently, save for the book sitting beside you, along with your sketchbook. 

You'd been wanting to do a bit of reading, or drawing, anything to take your mind off things, but after receiving that text you just didn't have the heart for it. 

"Everything alright over here, friend?"

You glance up, seeing a well-dressed man standing to your right. He was tall, blond, and wore a sun-themed mask over his eyes, which are also covered with a white shade. His smile is warm, kind.

You straighten up a bit, feeling self-conscious all the sudden.  "Oh, yeah. Just fine. Sorry, do you need my ticket?"

"Yes please!" 

You hand it over to him, and he punches it, promptly handing it back to you. "There you go! Is there anything else I can get for you? Perhaps a snack, or a drink?"

"No, I'm good, but thank you... Sorry, what's your name?"

The man bows slightly. "You may call me Sun. And you, friend?"

"Oh, my friends call me Nick/N." You smile. 

Sun tilts his head, his smile seems, strained for a moment. Then—"Welcome aboard, then, Nick/N. We hope you enjoy the ride!" For good measure, he takes your hand, pressing his lips to the back of it for a moment before releasing you.

"T-thanks." You say, watching as he walks off, going over to where the other conductor stands. 

You take note that he's wearing a moon mask, with red covering his eyes instead. They exchanged a few hushed words with each other, and when they look over to you, you avert your gaze again. 

You didn't pay attention when you booked this train, just got on the first one you could, you wonder if it's themed in some way. It would make sense anyway, why else for the masks? 

As you settle in for your ride, the conductors come by multiple times each to check on you. During this you find out the other is named 'Moon', which, pretty on the nose you'd say, but you have to guess it's all part of the act. 

Regardless, you find them to be friendly, very chatty, almost too much so. They're constantly offering you something to eat or drink, and if you hadn't brought snacks you'd take them up on the offer. Even then, they try encouraging you to pick something from the train's menu. 

"Surely you deserve something better than that, crumbling thing, Sunshine."

"Or something sweet to wash it down, maybe a glass of wine?"

You take another bite of your granola bar. "Nah, this is good enough for now. And I'm not much of a day drinker." You unscrew your water bottle lid, taking a sip. "Appreciate it though!"

"If you change your mind, simply let us know, Starlight."

That was another thing, the nicknames. At first, they used yours that you'd given, almost constantly addressing you in conversation. It was like they were waiting for something to happen. But when it didn't they'd switched to the celestial-themed ones instead. 

It was all so, incredibly, interesting. 

In the evening, you're sketching in your seat when your phone goes off again. You frown upon hearing it, looking out the window momentarily. It's dark, but you can make out that it's snowing incredibly hard now. You're surprised the train is still able to get through all this—

"What are you drawing, Sunbeam?"

You jump, finding the two of them are across from you. Sun leans over the back of the opposite seat, elbows resting on the top edge, while Moon lounges across the seat itself.

You feel embarrassed now. "Oh, nothing important." You don't want to admit that you're drawing them, that would be utterly humiliating. 

You couldn't help it, despite their, overtly friendly behavior—to the point you'd grown slightly suspicious—you found the two to be alarmingly charming despite it all. There was an air about them that was enticing, drawing you in and making you ever curious. 

Moon tsks. "Now, now. Don't leave us in suspense. I'm sure anything you create would be lovely."

"It's true, though maybe not as lovely as them, wouldn't you say?" Sun rests his head in his hand, small smirk on his lips. 

Moon nods, waving his hand. "Not even a question, of course."

Your ears are burning at this point. And, compelled by their outward flirting you hold out your sketchbook, head ducked to maybe hide some of your awkwardness. 

"Just take it already." You mumble. "And go easy on me, please. It's been awhile..."

Eager hands snatch up your book, and they bicker over who gets to hold it. You giggle at the exchange, and they finally settle on each holding one side as they flip through. 

As they go, Sun whistles, and Moon hums in agreement, it only serves to fluster you more. 

"You made all of these?" Moon asks. 

You laugh. "Well yeah, most of those are from months ago. They're, okay, I guess."

"Okay? You have talent, Starshine!" Sun states, waving his hand to the page. "I've never seen a hu-anyone create like this. It's impressive."

You have to cover up your face then, it's on fire. "Please, stop. They're really not—"

"And you drew us?" Sun exclaims. 

"They drew me better looking."

Sun huffs. "No, look how they got my jaw perfect!"

They delve into arguing again about who is sketched better and you just about can't take it anymore when your phone starts ringing. 

All three of you snap your attention to the device. 

When you see the caller ID, your heart fills with dread. 

Instead of curling up from being flustered, you curl up with fear, groaning. "Why can't they take a hint..."

As the phone continues to ring, you get ready to pick it up from the seat, either to answer or to decline the call. 

You don't get the chance, as Sun asks you a question. "Friend, is this your signature here?" He's pointing to a page of your sketchbook. 

"I, yeah. It is." You don't know why you didn't hesitate with that answer, too stressed to think, currently. 

You don't notice the shared look between the two, slight grins on their faces at this information. 

Your phone is still ringing, so you finally grab it, debating on what to do. 

"Do you want to talk to them?" Moon asks you. 

You sigh, then laugh. "God no. Not at all. But..." You trail off, and shake your head. "Maybe I should hear them out. Even if I really don't want to deal with them right now."

Your thumb hovers over the answer button, ready to press it—

"Y/n. Don't answer the phone." Sun's words are firm, but there's still a softness to them, almost remorseful?

You don't know, because one moment your phone is in your hand, the next it's not. You... aren't sure why but, it's probably fine, right?

The rest of the evening proceeds like everything is normal. Neither of them calls you by your name again, sticking to their nicknames. You're not hungry, so you don't eat dinner despite their pestering about it not being good for you. And you retire to your bed after a late night filled with chatting. The two of them must have very little work to do as conductors, if they can spend so much time with a single passenger like you. 

Speaking of, was the train always so empty, or had people just slowly been getting off without you noticing? You yawn, and as your head hits the pillow decide that you'll worry about it tomorrow. Besides, you should be home by the end of the morning anyhow. 

When you wake up the next day, you notice that there's a distinct lack of movement happening. You must have stopped at a station. You stretch and hop out of bed, deciding that after the day you had yesterday, you deserve to walk around in your pajamas for a bit. 

You go over to the dining car, incredibly hungry, and expecting people to be boarding. What you find is an empty car filled with piping hot food and—

"Is that a hot coco bar?" You ask to the open air, starting to salivate at the thought. 

However, before you even consider food, you decide you need to figure out what's going on. Walking over to the window, you see that the snow is piled high all around the train, almost up to the window. You must have hit a drift in the night, meaning you're stuck until the can clear the tracks. 

Normal people would be concerned about this information. But either because you don't care when you get home—as long as you're not there—or because you've developed a strange lack of care for most time related things, you don't mind in the slightest. 

With a shrug, you go over and grab a plate and start piling it high, someone's got to eat it, right? 

You also grab a large mug of hot chocolate, adding many marshmallows and tons of whipped cream. You sit down, ready to dig in, when you're spooked as you realize Moon is sitting across from you, chin resting in his hand with a smile. 

"Good morning, Starlight. Sleep well?"

You nod. "Yeah. You sure know how to make an entrance, don't you?"

"We pride ourselves on it." Sun says with a chuckle, in the seat behind you, you realize. 

Looking up, you see he's in a similar position to Moon, small smirk on his face as he observes you. 

"Seems so. While you're both here, what's going on with the train?" You raise a piece of toast to your mouth. "Unless I'm wrong and you two aren't good at your job."

You take a bite, and have to sit up again, eyes wide. The bread is perfectly crispy, with just the right amount of butter. It tastes like heaven. 

You're too caught up in taking another bite to catch what Sun says. 

"Oh my god. This is the best toast I've ever had in my life." You finish devouring it, wiping your mouth and looking back up to him. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

Sun chuckles, hands shifting to hold your face. "I said, we're snowed in. It will take some time for the tracks to be cleared. Potentially several days." 

"Oh, really?" You reach down blindly for more food, and feel your plate be scooted closer to you. You thank Moon briefly and snatch up a piece of bacon, which also tastes divine. "Bummer."

This seems to surprise the masked man, eyebrows shooting up above the mask's edge. "You're not concerned?"

"Nah. To be honest, I don't have much of a place to go back to. A cold apartment in a shitty building on the wrong side of the city." You finish your bacon, grabbing another piece. "Not to mention how my friends are going to be getting on to me about how they were right and I was wrong and on and on and on and, man this food is delicious, like how do you guys have such a good cook for a train?"

Sun looks away from you, and sitting straight you see Moon's looking to him as well. You however, are too busy indulging your gluttony to care. Every single bite is amazing, like, the best breakfast you've ever had. 

You're about to take a drink of your hot coco, when a hand grabs your wrist. 

"Wait." Moon states, then sighs. 

You raise an eyebrow, waiting. 

He looks behind you to Sun, and glancing back you see he's frowning, but nods. 

He comes around the seat, and sits across from you with Moon. After removing the coco from your hands, he clasps one of yours in both his own. 

"We haven't been truthful with you, Sunshine. At least, I believe that's how your people say it." His grip tightens for a moment before relaxing. "It wasn't by accident that you boarded this train."

You furrow your brow. "Well, yeah, I bought the ticket."

"It wasn't the ticket you were supposed to. We, ensured you would board this train specifically." Moon states, sounding, ashamed. 

Sun continues for him. "You see, we're not from your world. We come from somewhere else, somewhere long forgotten to most of your kind. Many of our own like to play tricks on you humans, for entertainment and such. We prefer to help."

"The train is designed to find those in need of it." Moon waves to the rest of the car. "The lost, the lonely, the hurting,"—he glances at you for a moment—"It gives them a place to heal, to learn, to change in some cases. Then, when they're ready, the return home, none the wiser to the time that's past or what's truly occurred."

You notice Sun's cheeks are tinged pink under the mask, up until now you don't think you've seen either of them be so bashful. "Though, we've been, 'keeping tabs' on you for some time. Besides the gloomy aura you had we found you to be—" He bites his cheek, and mutters his next words. "Very attractive."

"Getting you here became a bit of a game for us." Moon admits, also blushing now. "As was getting you to share your name, and eat our food. Most never stay on the train long enough to do so. Or at least, they don't think they do."

Sun finally looks back to you, hands still holding your own. "But we wanted to tell you before you took a drink, as that would, bind you to us. But not to the train! You can leave whenever you like, of course. But, you deserved to know our intentions, regardless of whether you would even consider feeling the same or not."

He releases you finally, folding his now fidgeting hands into his lap. 

You take a moment to take everything in, reviewing in your head to make sure you understood everything they've told you. 

Once you've determined that yes, this is actually happening, you speak. 

"So if I drink this, I'll stay here... forever?" You point down to the cup, still steaming.

"You could still leave whenever you wish, but essentially yes—Oh my stars."

The two can only stare, mouths agape as you chug your hot coco in one go. When your finished you sigh, taking your napkin and dabbing your mouth. 

"Man, that hit the spot. I'll be getting more of that later. Anywho,"—you start to dig in to the rest of your plate—"It might take me a bit, but which one of you wants dibs on first kiss? If that's your thing, that is."

"I-"

"Me." Moon blurts. 

At this, Sun blusters, and you snicker to yourself as they begin to debate back and forth on the subject. You glance out the window at the snowy landscape, taking in how, enchanted it feels now that you fully understand the situation. It's certainly not what you expected to happen when you boarded this train, but you're certainly not complaining about the outcome. 

Maybe you'll change your mind, and one day depart from this place and the two fae you've somehow acquired. But as of this moment, spending your days with two magic beings vying for your attention, a warm bed, good food, and helping others? 

That's a pretty good deal to you. 

Best Christmas present you've ever gotten, by a long shot.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Thank you @divinit3a for the request! As i said before, VERY big brained and I enjoyed it a good bit hehe ^-^

Thanks for reading!

Masterpost link

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info, you can also dm me!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay

[strniohoeee]

oooo okay what i'm boutta request may sound crazy but

could you do a fluffy fic where it's all in matt's pov and he has a huge crush on the reader and he's so anxious around her and nick puts it together that matt is in love with the reader and one day they're hanging and matt's nervous around the reader and the reader is worried and asks matt what wrong and like after being so scared and shy matt blurts out he's in love with the reader and has been for a while and it turns out reader is in love with matt too and boom they kiss and become boyfriend and girlfriend

Dreaming

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo X Female Reader

Synopsis: Plagued by the constant nervousness Y/N makes Matt feel he takes to his journal. Afraid that his feelings are one sided he keeps it quiet until Y/N confronts him 📝

Warnings⚠️: None, kinda short??? I hope you enjoy tho🤞🏽

Song for the imagine: Ivy- Frank Ocean

I thought that I was dreaming

When you said you loved me

The start of nothin

I had no chance to prepare

Matt’s POV

Entry #14

Writing this down seems embarrassing because this isn’t something I do, but I have no one to talk to. I think that I’m falling in love? No! I know I’m in love, but does she love me back is the million dollar question.

I don’t crush on girls often, but when a girl is as gorgeous as Y/N how can I not? Everything about her draws me to her….like a moth to a flame. An ache comes to my heart everytime I see her because she’s so close yet so far away.

I was never shy around a girl I liked, but there’s something about her….I can’t explain it. Her dark intense eyes, her soft face, her gorgeous smile, her nails always perfectly shaped. Long but not too long just enough to capture someone’s gaze. The way she’d blink faster and bite her pointer finger nail when she was thinking hard about something.

Her ring clattered fingers, like ice to my skin when she’d grab my arm to tell me something. I mean her laugh…..always covering her mouth because she hated the face she’d make as she let laughter erupt from her chest.

She was always laughing too and it made me smile just to hear the joy come out of her. I’m not really sure when I started to like her, but it just happened. One day her looks and her touches made me nervous. It was a gradual liking that suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks.

She’s also our best friend, so admitting my feelings to her seems a bit dicey. I was never given any notion that she liked me more than a friend, unless she’s good at hiding it. I can’t fathom losing her as a friend because of my stupid feelings.

I guess time will tell…

-Matt

“Matt what the fuck are you doing?” Nick says barging into my room. Causing me to slam my book shut and snap my head up at him

“Nothing. I’m writing” I said placing the book on my lap

“We’ve been calling your name for a while….Y/N thought you weren’t here or anything” he said laughing

“Y/N’s here?” I asked my eyebrows perking up

“Uh yeah” he said furrowing his brows at me

“And she was looking for me?” I asked scratching the back of my neck

“Well we were all looking for you….What's going on?” Nick asked looking at me sideways

“Nothing nothings going on” I said shaking my head

“Okayyy then” he said raising his eyebrows

I threw my book on the bed and stood up stretching and patting Nick on the shoulder

“I’ll be in living room” I replied walking out my bedroom door

Unbeknown to Matt his journal had propped open on his bed. Showcasing the entry he just wrote, and Nick raised his eyebrows. Truly enticed by what he was writing

“Nick this is wrong” the boy said to himself

He trotted over to the bed and shook his head…thinking he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself. Matt was acting weird lately and he figured the reason would be within these pages.

Looking over to see if anyone was near the door he let a breath of air out as he grabbed the book and looked down.

His eyes popping out of his head at what he was reading. Holy shit? My brother is in love with our best friend? He thought to himself

The way he described her had Nick's eyes scanning the page rapidly looking for more. How did Y/N not realize how head over heels this kid was for her….

But then he thought and things started to add up. Nervous around Y/N randomly, avoiding eye contact, getting embarrassed easily, catching him stare at Y/N always….

He knew it! All along Nick knew that his brother had a thing for Y/N, and he feels kind of dumb that it took him this long to realize why his brother was acting so weird.

Nick shut the book and placed it back on the bed. His heart racing with this new information that he was not supposed to know about.

Matt’s POV

Y/N had come over for our monthly movie night. Since our friendship started one night every month we binge watched all types of movies.

Y/N called it her stay relevant with current pop culture night. I just think she liked movies and needed a good excuse to keep us seated for hours on end.

Before playing our first movie we decided to eat dinner. Chris offered to cook and we all scurried away from the kitchen. Opting for McDonald’s instead.

“What movies are you planning for tonight?” Chris asked Y/N

“I’m not sure I think we should start with something sad and then build our way up to scary and then romance and then comedy” she said taking a sip of her drink

“What’s your idea of sad?” Nick asked her

“Now I wouldn’t say it’s sad, but it seems alt and creepy and it has a deep message” she began to say

“You’re such a weirdo” Chris said cutting her off

“Hey! Let her say the movie” I butt in sticking my hand out to stop Chris

“Thanks Matt, it’s requiem for a dream” she said looking at me

“Never heard of it” Nick said

“Yeah me neither” Chris replied

“Well it’s about drug addicts who are trying to find ways to get their next high, but it all starts to go wrong and it’s supposedly really good” she said getting excited

We all kind of looked at her. Me enticed and Nick and Chris bored

“Nick and Chris are looking at me like I’m crazy, but how about you Matt?” She asked looking over at me

“Hmm?” I replied looking at her

“The movie? Want to watch it?” She asked

“Uhh yeah, sure” I said smiling at her

“See! This is why you’re my favorite” he said leaning over and hugging me while laughing

Instantly her touch made me stiffen up. I was becoming nervous and my voice was straining far from me. All I could do was offer a pat to her arm and a smile.

Her eyebrows furrow at this and I mentally smack myself in the head. What the fuck was that? I thought

We cleaned up our wrappers and headed back to the couch

“Matt sit by me?” Y/N asked me patting the empty spot next to her

“Okay” I blurted out nervously

I sat down next to her, stiff like a board might I add. Not really letting my body touch hers as my breathing began to quicken in my chest.

Everything about this situation was making me so fucking nervous. How she mindlessly situated herself, often brushing her leg or hand against me and offering soft “sorries” to which I replied with a shake to my head.

We began the movie and it was actually very interesting. Keeping my eyes locked in the whole time, and scratching my head at the plot.

However I kept noticing Y/N glancing over at me. Making me swallow thickly as anxiety crept up the back of my neck.

She wasn’t even doing anything and my body was reacting. My leg started to shake and I mindlessly started to bite the inside of my lip.

“Hey you okay?” Y/N leaned over and whispered in my ear

“Yeah yeah I’m okay” I replied quickly glancing at her

“You seem a bit on edge today” she said back

“What? Me? No” I replied a bit confused

“Well okay” she said sitting back against the couch

What the fuck was I doing? The anxiety is becoming too much. I decided to stand up and head outside for a breeze and to clear my mind.

Nick had watched Matt walk outside, furrowing his brows and looking over at Y/N who’s eyes had followed where Matt was going.

A smile grew on nicks face and he began to speak

“I think you should see what’s wrong with him” Nick said to Y/N

“He seemed a bit on edge I don’t want to make him mad” she replied looking over at the boy

“No he’s just got some things on his mind I think you talking to him would be better than one of us” he replied to her

She nodded her head and offered him a small smile.

She got up and headed outside

Matt’s POV

I sat on a lawn chair looking at the trees moving in the breeze. My thoughts interrupted when I heard the creak of the back door

“Matt?” I heard from behind me

“Yeah?” I replied looking over my shoulder

“What’s wrong? You seem off” she said sitting next to me

“Nothings wrong I promise” I replied smiling at her

“You’re lying” she said staring blankly at me

“Okay fine….just a bit of anxiety is all” I replied

“That was the half truth…what’s really going on” she said rolling her eyes at me

“You wouldn’t get it” I replied looking back at the trees

“Matt, come on. We tell each other everything” she says groaning

“But this I want to keep to myself” I said rubbing my eyes

“But if it’s making you anxious you should just say it” she said back to me

“I don’t know how to say it” I said turning and looking at her

“Oh sure you do come on” she said egging me on

“It’s just I am so madly in love with you, and I have been for a while. And I don’t know that you feel the same way and I can’t risk losing a friendship over this. But everytime I see you it’s like my body is on fire and my chest aches for you. Everything about you is gorgeous and amazing and I can’t help myself from falling more and more each day” I blurted out

“Matt….I….I like you so much. And I thought the lingering touches and the glances would give you an idea. But I figured I was creeping you out” she said laughing a bit

“No. You were making me nervous” I replied laughing too

Without a second thought Y/N pressed her lips to mine, and at first it took me by surprise. But then my right hand laid on her cheek as I pressed my lips against hers.

This kiss was better than I could have ever imagined. It was like we were made for each other. Her soft lips made my skin melt as the stars aligned above us.

I pulled away and looked at her before smiling at her

“Can I….can I be your boyfriend?” I asked smiling at her

“Yes Matt! 100 times yes” she replied before crashing her lips to mine again

A beautiful kiss under the clear night sky…just like a movie<3

The End

HIIIIII hope yall enjoyed this one🥹🖤🖤 I got many more requests to pump out, so stay tuned! Love yall dearly 🤭🖤🖤

-J💅🏽

[darksigns-exe]

disappear into the night - nick folio x noah sebastian

warnings: somewhat consensual voyeurism, mutual masturbation, fingering (m receiving), swearing

word count: 2.8k

masterlist | series masterlist | taglist sign-up

Nick didn’t mean to walk in on him like this. Really, he should have left minutes ago, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of Noah.

He’s spread out on his bed, on leg propped up on the edge of the bed frame. One of his hands lazily strokes his cock, while the fingers of the other slowly tease his hole. Nick can barely see it from this angle — he isn’t meant to see it at all. 

He looks so pretty like this with his eyes closed and head tipped back. His sighs and moans barely reach his ears. 

He’s sure that Noah thought he was alone in the house, which makes the fact that he’s watching even worse. But he just can’t stop. 

Noah stills, and for a moment Nick thinks he’s caught. But then he sees his hand tightening around his cock, and he realises that Noah is trying to stop himself from finishing too soon. 

He eventually releases his cock and it twitches a few times. Nicks sure that he sees a few drops of precum leaking from him. His suspicion is confirmed when Noah drags his fingers through it. The fingers dip into his mouth, and Nick has to stop himself from making a noise. Nick presses his eyes shut, trying to get a grip on himself again. 

He’s never even thought about another guy like that, and now he’s so riled up just from watching Noah play with himself. 

When he opens his eyes again, Noah still has his fingers in his mouth. The fingers press against his tongue, and it’s only then that Nick notices that he’s started moving the fingers inside of him again. 

Noah whines around his own finger, and it flips a switch in Nicks brain. He doesn’t know where this comes from, but he has to find out what pretty noises he could draw out of his friend. 

Noah slowly removes the fingers from his hole and mouth. His hand rests of his tummy for just a moment before he reaches for something next to him. 

Lube. 

Nick knows that he shouldn’t be watching this. He should go and pretend that he’s never seen this. Just as he’s about to take a step back from the door, Noah turns to look at him. 

“You just want to keep watching?” He asks expectantly, “Or you could help.”

Nick remains frozen for a moment. 

Noah sits up and beckons him over. Nick doesn’t know why he’s not leaving or why he’s entering Noah’s bedroom. He makes sure to close the door behind him, though. He doesn’t need anyone to see whatever will happen next. 

“Saw you watching a while ago.” Noah says softly, “It’s okay. I’m not mad. You didn’t do anything you weren’t supposed to.”

Nick doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. There’s so much in his head, and he doesn’t know which part of it he’s supposed to deal with first. 

“I wanted one of you to see. Didn’t think it’d be you, though.” Noah admits then, “Was a nice surprise.”

“You wanted someone to see you?” Nick asks shakily. 

“I have a — loose agreement with the other two. I never talked to you about it because I didn’t think that you’d be into guys. I like the idea of someone watching me, and sometimes they’ll join in.”

Realising that they have this whole thing going on makes him feel a little dizzy. The idea of Noah letting Jolly and Ruffilo fuck him makes him twitch in his sweats. It’s all a little confusing. 

“I don’t want to pressure you into this, but it looked like you were enjoying what you saw and — I wouldn’t mind a little help.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” Nick feels himself blush when he says it. 

“We’ll figure it out. You’re a quick learner.” The smile on his face makes Nick shiver, “No hard feelings if you don’t want to.” 

It’s only now that Nick realises that Noah is still completely bare. He’s made no effort to cover himself, and Nick is surprisingly okay with it. 

He can’t stop his hand from brushing against Noah’s thigh. He has to do something that isn’t speak or think and touching him feels like the best option. 

“What do you want me to do?” 

“Whatever you’re willing to do. You could move your hand a little higher.” The suggestion comes just as he moves his thighs a little further apart. He’s still hard and the head of his cock is still shiny with precum. He’s not small either. Longer than this own but a little smaller in terms of girth. 

He drags his hand up Noah’s thigh until the back of his hand inevitably brushes against his cock. 

“Can I – is it okay if I touch you?” he asks shakily. 

Noah had already told him that it was, but he has to hear it again. 

“Fuck – yes. You can touch.” Noah replies, maybe a little too eagerly. 

Nick wills his hand to stop shaking when he lifts it from Noah’s thigh. He tries to remind himself that this isn’t so different from when he gets a hand on himself. Noah sighs so sweetly when his hand makes contact with him. It does feel a little odd at first. The angle isn't quite right, and the movements feels awkward and stilted. 

With a little rearranging, Noah ends up resting against the wall behind his bed with Nick sitting in front of him. This way, he also gets a better view of Noah’s face. Hearing the soft sighs, Noah lets out in response to his touch helps to take down the mental block. 

Nick tries his best to mimic what he enjoys. He tightens his hand just a little on the way up, just to see what Noah will do. He’s rewarded with a whine of his name. 

“Is this good?” he asks, even though he already has an idea of how Noah feels. 

Noah nods eagerly, “So good. Fuck – can you –” his voice breaks when Nick drags his thumb across the head of his cock. 

Seeing him so affected is starting to get to him too. Nick can’t deny that he’s been rock hard for a while. He presses his hand against his crotch, trying to get a little bit of relief. Noah moans so unashamed, hips bucking up into Nick’s hand.

“Okay if I touch myself?” he feels a little silly asking when Noah is spread out in front of him like this, and he literally has a hand wrapped around his dick. 

“Y-yes.” Noah sounds so breathless already, and it makes his head spin even more, “Let me see you. Please.”

That’s more than enough to convince him. Nick dips a hand into his sweats. He can’t stifle the groan that breaks from him when he finally gets a hand on himself. He pulls his sweatpants down just enough. The first pass of his hand over his cock almost makes him black out. He’s been holding back for so long that the sudden rise in pleasure makes his head spin. 

“Let me —” Noah reaches for him, and Nick doesn’t have it in him to say no. 

He shuffles a little closer so that Noah can get a better angle on him. 

It should feel wrong. He’s never been interested in guys before, but this all feels too good. He doesn’t know if it’s just the rush of this whole situation, or if there’s something else going on. For now, he shoves the question to the back of his mind. 

Noah’s hand feels incredible on his skin. He matches Nick's rhythm somewhat, although he can’t be as elaborate with his strokes. 

He watches Noah’s other hand drift up his chest. His fingers brush against a nipple, and the sound Noah makes sparks something in Nick’s brain. 

He dips his thumb between his lips, just enough to get it wet. He’s a little unceremonious with how he pushes Noah’s hand away, but he seems to be forgiven almost immediately. Nick tries to recall how he does this with girls, what he’d say, what he’d do. It can’t be too different, right? 

“You look so good like this.” Nick tries to sound a little more confident, “You let the other two play with you like this too?” 

He nods, seemingly unable to find his voice. 

Nick moves a little closer until his thighs push up against Noah’s. His skin is surprisingly warm against his. 

He lets his hand wander down to Noah’s waist, hoping to steady himself there. He feels awfully close to his climax already. And as much as he’d like to drag this out for a while longer, Nick knows that he won’t last much longer. Noah looks as if he’s not much better off than him. His head is thrown back against the pillow again, eyes clamped shut as he moans and gasps so sweetly for Nick. 

Each pass of Noah’s hand across his length pulls him closer towards the end. Nick’s groans mix up with Noah’s creating a low buzzing background noise in his mind. 

He drags his hand across the head of Noah’s cock to gather more of the precum that leaks from him. 

“Close?” he asks as his hand returns to its previous rhythm. 

“So close – need just a bit more.” he sounds almost pained, Nick thinks. 

“What do you need? Do you –”

“Just this — a little faster.” he chokes the words out in between breathy moans, and Nick has to force himself to breathe. 

He picks up his pace just a little and that seems to be enough for Noah. It takes him only a few quick strokes more before he spills over his tummy and Nick’s hand. Nick doesn’t stop, not even when Noah’s hand leaves him to cover his face. 

Nick quickly wraps his hand around his own cock. He’s so close now. His focus remains on Noah, who by now has managed to open his eyes again. Nick lets his gaze wander across Noah’s body for a moment. His chest still heaves with unsteady breaths. His skin is lined with a sheen of sweat that makes his tattoos stand out so beautifully. 

The thing that pushes him over the edge is Noah looking up at him with his eyes all blown wide in anticipation. His hand grips tighter into Noah’s side when he feels it hit him. 

“Oh f-fuck –” 

His climax hits him like a brick wall, and Nick barely manages to work himself through it. He’s barely cognisant enough to watch his release splatter across Noah’s skin. Some of it lands on his dick and the hand that has come back to play with it. 

Noah lets out a garbled noise as a few more weak spurts of cum dribble from him. 

Nick sits back when it’s over. He’ll need more than a moment to recover from whatever this was. Noah still trembles a little when he looks over at him. 

“Good?” Nick asks, his voice sounding a little shaky. 

Noah nods, “So good.” 

He watches as Noah lifts his hand up to his face. The fingers dip between his lips once again. He can’t look away. 

Nick spots a box of tissues on Noah’s desk. He thinks that cleaning their mess up is the only right thing to do. Noah makes a little noise when his hand bumps against the head of his cock. 

“Sorry.” Nick mumbles quickly, suddenly feeling awfully aware of what they’ve just done. 

“All good, just – sensitive.” Noah replies, taking the issues from his hand. 

He finishes cleaning himself off, before he plucks his underwear from the ground. He struggles into it and sits down next to Nick again. 

“How are you feeling?” he asks quietly. 

“I don’t know – this is a lot.”

“That’s okay. This doesn’t change anything between us.”

“I think I just need a moment.” Nick admits quietly. 

Noah nods then, “Take all the time you need. I’m gonna hop under the shower, okay?” 

He doesn’t get a chance to say more. 

He remains sat on Noah’s bed for a moment longer. His mind is still racing. Nick doesn’t know what this means for him or them as friends, and it makes his chest feel so awfully tight. 

Nick slips across the hallway into his own room. He lets himself fall onto his bed and lets his eyes slip closed. All he can see is Noah spread out in front of him. No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t get the visual out of his brain. 

This is going to be a problem. 

When he sneaks into the kitchen a few hours later, he practically runs into Nicholas. He’d been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed him. 

After an awkward exchange of apologies, Nick thinks that he’s off the hook. Ruffilo doesn’t leave, though, and instead lingers around the counter while Nick reheats a plate of leftovers for himself. 

“Noah told me about what happened earlier.” 

His head snaps around. He feels caught, trapped. 

Nick had expected Noah to keep this a secret and not parade it around to everyone. 

“No details. All he said is that you walked in on him.” Nicholas quickly adds, “Knowing Noah – I sort of filled in the rest.” 

Nick feels his cheek turn red, and he casts his eyes low, trying to escape Nicholas’ gaze. 

“It’s okay. We’re all in the same boat. No one’s judging you for whatever happened.” 

 He can see Nick moving closer in the corners of his vision, “Was that your first time doing something with another guy?” 

Nick nods, still not daring to look up. 

“It doesn’t have to be anything more than fun, you know that, right? Just because you did whatever you did, doesn’t mean that you’re this or that thing now. First and foremost, you’re still Nick. If you think that this was some kind of revelatory event for you, and you want to talk about it to someone, Jolly and I are always here.”

“I just couldn’t look away.” He admits quietly, “He looked so —“

“He’s pretty when he’s in the middle of it, isn’t he? He gets that blissed out look on his face, and then he makes those sounds. It’s very hard to resist him.”

Hearing that Nicholas felt similarly eases his mind a little.

“Did he tell you about the agreement?”

Nick nods.

He admittedly had felt a little out of place when Noah had told him that he had some sort of agreement with the other two.

“He kinda roped Jolly and me into this voyeurism thing. None of us thought that you’d be interested, so — I’m sorry if it made you feel bad. That was never the intention.”

“I didn’t think that I’d be into that either, so you’re all good.”

Nick tells him everything then. How he walked in on Noah all spread out, how he’d touched him. All of it. It’s the first time that he’s actually talking about it, and it makes his chest feel a lot lighter.

“That explains why he didn’t want anything later. Wore him out good.” 

The humour in Nicholas’ voice makes him smile. 

“No one’s going to be upset if you decide that this is the only time you get involved. But if you want to, I think it could be a lot of fun.” Nicholas says after a while. 

“I don’t know how I haven’t noticed that all of this was going on.” Nick shakes his head in disbelief. 

“Honestly, so am I. It’s been what – a little over a year?” 

“A year?” 

Nicholas nods, “Just a little. Noah’s been coming to me for help for a while, and it kind of developed out of that. Plenty of time to catch up, if that’s what you want.” 

That’s the issue, though, Nick doesn’t know what he wants. Not right now, at least. 

“Think about it. You don’t have to rush into it. If you need to talk, we’re here.” 

With that, Nicholas makes his departure. 

Nick waits until the other has disappeared up the stairs before he picks up his mostly cooled plate of leftover pasta. When he walks past the others doors Nick briefly pauses at Noah’s door. The room behind it appears to be quiet, and just for a moment he’s tempted to knock. 

Just as he turns to leave, Noah pulls open the door. There’s a beat of awkward silence before Noah flashes him an almost shy looking smile. 

“Thank you for earlier.” he says quietly. 

Nick only manages a nod, but it seems to be enough for Noah. 

“Do we still have some of that?” Noah asks then, and the quick change of topic almost gives Nick whiplash. 

“There’s still plenty left.” 

The conversation fizzles out after that and Nick finds himself standing in the middle of the hallway with a once again cool plate of pasta. 

Nothing about this day had gone the way he thought it would, and there is still a lot that he’ll have to think about. 

Nick is sure of one thing though, he’ll find his way back into Noah’s room at some point. 

taglist: @deathblacksmoke @circle-with-me @sitkowski @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens

@malice-ov-mercy @chels3a-smile @ferduttini @somebodyels3 @itsafullmoon

@shilohrosechicken @poisongirl616 @mysticdoodlez @agravemisstake @th4t-em0-k1d

@thisbicc @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @mrsnoahsebastian @blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence

@fadingangelwisp @lma1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisisntablogspost @tintadecirco

@rumoured-whispers @cheyyyyr @mathfairchild1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland

[toxintouch]

Cooking headcannons for touchstarved Li’s when? 👀

Apparently now, anon! Some Cooking/Baking/General Meal Time headcanons. Sorry as always that I am so late, lol. I got distracted by Halloween/October things. ✦✦✦✦✦

Vere: ✦ Canonically, he’s bad at it. But W H Y?? ✦ When I thought about why Vere might be a bad cook I decided he is likely the kind to get distracted, try to make everything at once, get bored with the instructions, etc. It's not the kind of food he craves, so cooking is very low-stakes to him. ✦ I’m trying to decide if I think his sense of taste is remarkably different from a human. Since his nose is impeccable, he SHOULD be able to determine if something is going to be good or not… ✦ Perhaps the real issue standing in his way is: Human food does not satiate him.

✦ Though he does have human foods he likes to eat. He's a texture person.  Loves a delicate texture, easy to slice through with his fangs.  Something supple. ✦ When he gets the cooking urge, he cooks a ton of food at once. Absolutely no intention of eating most of it. ✦ MC: “Who is going to eat this?”   Vere: “I’ve been fairly blatant about my interest in doing so, but you are willfully obtuse.” ✦ If you'll allow me to quote myself:

"Vere cooks how others might enjoy a leisurely stroll. 

Which is to say: he seems to be having fun, but you’re not convinced he intends on really going anywhere." The journey is often the destination. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: (If he likes you:) "I suppose. If you think you have the stamina." If he doesn't like you it's still a yes but you're the meal. ✦ If you're helping him cook, BE CAREFUL WITH THE KNIFE!  If you nick yourself and draw blood...you might get more than you bargained for...

Leander: ✦ The fandom has spoken. This man can't cook. He's just...too innovative.~ He could follow a recipe. He won't...but he could. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: He actually sounds awkward for a moment. “Ooohh, uh... you want to cook together?”  But he bounces back quickly.  “Of course we can do that! Sounds like fun. I’m sure our favorite barkeep won’t mind, we can use the kitchen here!”  (She minds.  She looks in on the two of you frequently to make sure you’re not going to burn the Wick down.) ✦ If you know your way around the kitchen already, he's happy to take a backseat. :) He measures out ingredients and has them all neatly ready for you. ✦ If you make him take the lead: Is that sweat sliding down the back of his neck? And his face is awfully red. "Ah, actually, I just thought of a better idea." How about the two of you rely on the expertise of your favorite cooks/bakers from around town for this one? Really immerse yourselves for a day (er, a few hours), learn from a professional. Who would you like to teach you? He can pull some strings and make it happen! :) :) :) ✦ ~Magical meal prep.~ He slices and dices with spell work. Like it's a party trick and not a potentially grisly weapon. Don't think too hard on the other potential applications of that spell, okay? :) ✦ Everything can be improved with cheese! (AKA: He puts cheese on top of everything.) ✦ He's unlikely to share this part of himself of his own accord, but... Naturally, he still knows all of his high society dining etiquette.  He can tell you all about place settings and the correct formal silverware order and how to tell which fork is the dessert fork, etc. Hopefully you'll never be put in a situation where that's knowledge that you need. He really doesn't want to subject you to that kind of person, if he can help it. Those people are closer to the Senobium and most would do anything for a favor. Best to stick to places where it's more safe. Right here next to him is free. ✦ He has a brilliant mind for what wines go with what foods. One of the few drink recommendations you can trust him on. "Of course, these are all just suggestions. What matters is that you're drinking what you like, right?" (<- He's trying to sell you on his new mixolology concoction. Do not trust.) ✦ Could hold a formal tea for you but you will really have to wheedle it out of him. And he'll only say yes if you agree that it stays between the two of you. "You have to pinky promise." ;) and it only counts if it's bare skin. ✦ That said, he's at his most comfortable when he's in some little hole-in-the-wall, enjoying great local food that someone else made. ✦ Extremely interested in any dishes you enjoy that are local to your home/culturally significant to you. Will hunt someone down who can make them for you if you're feeling homesick. (Or will find the ingredients if you prefer to make it yourself.) He's a good guy like that. :)

Kuras: ✦ He tries to make the recipe but he just makes things worse. Like many things in his long life. ✦ He's worse than Vere. A lot worse. 'Possibly the worst cook in the entire city' type worse. ✦ Cooking is just so outside of his realm of existence. ✦ It doesn't help that Everything tastes like p u r e n o t h i n g to him. It's not just that he doesn't need to eat, the very sensation of taste is beyond him. ✦ But he occasionally likes to try to make food for his friends and loved ones. He understands that food sharing is an important human social behavior and he'd like to participate how he can and show that he values his bonds with the people he chooses. ✦ He is uniquely awful at it though. Time has made very little improvement. ✦ Ever since that Valentine's Day cake, baking is his ✨passion.✨ Mhin had a good reaction, so he's decided not to give; he made such an obvious breakthrough with that one. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: He accepts immediately. He's overjoyed. "I'm sure this will be an enlightening experience. I confess myself as rather lacking when it comes to this activity so please consider me your humble student. Anything you wish to teach me would be appreciated." ✦ Of course, the two of you will have to work around the clinic's schedule. (You ought to realize quickly that he does not have a good gauge of time when it comes to meals. Take the initiative or starve tbh.) ✦ He is very attentive to everything you say.  His earnest face while listening to you is unbearably adorable.  Frequently tilts his head like a cat. ✦ He hangs off your every word and even asks questions.  Though, some of the questions you don’t quite know how to answer.  (“When you chew, do you instinctively know how many times is appropriate, or must you count?”  “....I…what?”) ✦ You think that particular question might be a joke... Hard to say. ✦ Even when you are running the show and watching him to make sure he does everything right…every time something somehow ends up going wrong. ✦ Pro tip: don't let him put anything into the oven or determine the cooking/baking times. Otherwise, things will get...strange. ✦ You are the test subject–I mean: taste tester.  Kuras insists that your opinion is of the utmost importance.  Are you brave enough?  If not, are you tough enough to politely decline when his eyes are sparkling softly with affection and excitement like that??

Think of it this way:

If you get sick (which you will) you’re already at the doctor’s!  ✨Convenient!✨ ✦ Comfortable silence in the kitchen when they two of you are working together. <3 ...As soon as you accept that nothing will be edible. Actually, maybe you should stop this. This is probably more food waste than a post-apocalyptic world can afford.

Ais: ✦ Of course he knows how. ✦ Well.  Maybe not him specifically. But give him a moment, he’s pretty sure he’s got the equivalent of a Michelin 3 Star chef (or two, but who’s counting?) “in here somewhere.”  (He taps on his temple.) ✦ He doesn't have an interest in human food. "You want recommendations try asking Pretty Boy." ✦ He does like to experiment with making treats for his Soulless.  He’s bought them snacks from the market on occasion, but he likes the feeling of taking care of them and providing for them contributing with his own hands.  Plus, he can make them treats that are a lot less grain heavy.  They prefer meat.

✦ (Most aren't stupid enough to try and poison the treats he buys, but he did kill someone for trying once. Not that the shit they put inside was strong enough. He ate the stupid biscuit right in front of them just to prove a point. Last thing they ever saw.) ✦ If the Sea Spring has a kitchen…look, he hasn't been in there in a while. There might be mold.  There is almost certainly mold. ✦ Luckily, Kuras has a kitchen!  And he doesn’t seem to use it, so it’s basically free real estate.  If Ais is ever in need of somewhere to cook or bake, he’ll be using Kuras’ space. ✦ He can do meat preparation really well (he’s an absolute butcher with anything sharp) and smoke meat really well but spending an overabundance of his time preparing meals (meals that aren't even the preferred sustenance of Monsters like him) feels like a poor use of his life. He's got shit to do. ✦ You ask him to cook or bake with you?: "Huh... Nah. Don't think I will..." <- neutral bastard “Or what?” <- He feels like riling you up a little extra today. ✦ (You're more likely to get that experience if you catch him doing it of his own accord and join in/keeping him company in the clinic while he works.)

Mhin: ✦ Diametrically opposed to Leander (and Vere), they will follow the recipe exactly whenever possible. ✦ The only one you can trust to make something edible without fail. ✦ Mhin is an alchemist.  Cooking and baking are both easy for them.  None of these components are even going to explode or create poisonous gas if mixed.  The worst thing that will happen is that they’ll eat a meal they aren’t completely satisfied with.  (And honestly, what else is new these days?) ✦ They are impressively quick and precise in the kitchen!  They can cut things so fast! Can also cut fruit into animal shapes for reasons that they will not explain. ✦ When they cook, they are making meals to feed themself.  It’s a necessity that they are performing to keep themself able to tolerate their strenuous life. At the same time, it relaxes them to an extent–it grounds them, it’s something concrete to focus on that isn’t … –but it’s a necessity first and foremost. ✦ Mhin’s cooking has a tendency to be b l a n d.  They are filled with too much self-loathing to season more interested in the nutritional value of the meal than its flavor.  Plus, spices are costly and they aren’t about to spend any of their hard earned money on the luxury of taste. ✦ Mhin’s baking is significantly more inspired than their cooking.  If they have the good fortune and the wherewithal to bake themself a little treat, they have a good intuition for (delicate, sweet) flavors.  They never get the opportunity, but.  The ability is there. ✦ In another life (an easier life) baking could have been a hobby. ✦ You ask them to cook or bake with you?: "..." Mhin isn’t the type to teach someone, but… If you're any good, you could be a useful second pair of hands. If you're hopeless...they should really leave you to your own devices, but… someone needs to tell you to stop holding a knife like that. It's annoying to look at. It will just take them a few seconds to correct you. And then you're on your own! (They still stay. They were using Kuras' kitchen first.) ✦ Will scold you for holding the knife wrong.  Tries to explain the correct way–which is to say, the safest way–to handle it but...  They’re not used to having to verbalize their thoughts/instructions to people, since they are always alone. ✦ So they'll finally just settle in behind you and show you how to position your hands and cut away from yourself. ✦ Backs off ASAP because being able to feel your body heat and being so close to you flusters them.  (Not to mention whatever is happening with your hands.) They go off into their own little corner to meal prep extra because they want to be prepared–definitely not so that they can look away from you and focus on something else for a while. ✦ Mhin can tell you about the chemical reaction that makes bread rise.  Mhin can tell you why and how each ingredient is important, which ones you can skip and substitute if supplies in this post Fogfall world are running low.  Mhin can tell you that you are not doing that right, what are you doing?  Stop.  That is way too much vanilla extract. ✦ If you ever reach their maximum affection level: Their face looks like it is absolutely on fire when they offer to share their favorite dessert this dessert they’ve really been craving with you.  They’ll even teach you how to make it, and you two could make it together if you'd like...

[worth-this-and-more]

thoughts and opinions on bree's birthday gifts!!!!

[spoilers for legendborn and bloodmarked, read at your own caution ;)] it's been long since i got to do long ass posts hehe i'm back in the game yall

first of all, happy birthday bree!!!! (real footage of me making cakes)

starting off strong with alice chen;

that's so cute?? and two gifts!! bree gonna keep that gift card close to her heart!! like common we all know they are book besties like awwieee so cuteee!! and tickets to eras tour?? keep up with the spoiling your bestie i love you alice!!

then we have edwin matthews;

this is so him tho, ofc he's gonna take care of his lil girl for the winters. that winter coat is gonna be very handy on the run. and bless his soul i hope he doesn't have to find out what the battle is-

our golden boy, nicholas martin davis;

that is so thoughtful tho?? and it's so cute he had it handmade like damn dude, and with her initials too. and what did you say about late-night sword training sessions you mean they trained whennnnnn we have been robbed????

our favorite sorcerer, selwyn emyrs kane;

the coupon?? that is so fucking hilarious, imagine selwyn drawing that coupon and smiling to himself like "ahh the perfect joke" comon this is so cute and i bet bree loved it. and the rose?? got me giggling and shit like dude i had headcanoned something like this as like a ring during bree's college trips but comon a rose is so much better?? ahhhhhhhh I'm in looooooveee say what you want this is so cute mann (and the rose kinda reminded me of the rose in tracy's insta story?? is this something or am i too obsessed??)

our rootcrafting companion, mariah;

lmaoo she is not wrong about the reasons tho. bree definitely needs that spa day. maybe add in a braiding session too. she needs those curls fresh and on for the newest adventure.

the cutest legendborn!! greer taylor;

oh my gosh that is so cool bree in training gear yalls I'm so pumped for bree's 1v1 fights with anyone honestly like my oh my!! good job greer!!

our deadliest softboy, william sitterson;

william is a tea guy for sure, ofc his birthday treat is at a teahouse!! spending the day enjoying william's favorite tea and maybe a lil bit of teasing on both sides?? what will be the treats tho him baking his favorite biscuits or a luncheon with his king, i say bothhh

now there are a two people that i really wanted to see;

larkin douglas; yes he hasn't been around in bloodmarked too but comon even he would know sometime from William hehe about bree's birthday what would he gift her?? he did gift her those leather gauntlets, an updraged version of them?? metal gauntlets?? now if bree has her powers in control ofc she doesn't need the gauntlets but it could be a gesture of trust, for the old days sake

valec; like comon i do think he'd just give her a chocolate or a life advice and move on, but given that he has taken a liking to her and has become very protective (as his baby sister okay guys he's not in love) he might offer something else. his knowledge maybe, he has been around for 200 years you bet he has a lot to tell. or like he could answer three questions she wants the answers to, we all know our bree is best at questioning everything.

my thoughts??

can the order of how the people are placed have any correspondence to how events have passed or any foreshadowing to what could happen?? because i am the type of person who likes to order things like that; so if this is foreshadowing, because for the past events we need to put sel after alice and all that yk, does this mean we are going to start oathbound with a different pov?? because alice and edwin are shown first so it is possible oathbound can start from the new pov (either nick or selwyn)

nick giving bree a scabbard, foreshadowing?? i still have to read on arthuriana more, so i can't say for sure but please enlighten me is this related to the legend. all i know is that excalibur's scabbard was gone which is why arthur fell in camlamn. so that means nick giving bree could potentially symbolize him protecting her?? but from what?? selwyn?? shadow king?? who??

also, from the whole order apart from the found family, only greer is mentioned. now i was assuming that sarah will be in charge now after tor has been "betrayed" aka kicked out of gc. so if greer is mentioned does this mean greer will be in charge?? but aren't they kinda young in the whole order, like young as in new?? and if they are in charge, then what will sarah do because by the order of lines sarah should be after tor, right??

and if this order of names thing is correct, we will be seeing mariah yayy but William is last, so is this for the whole book or like the first half?? because there's no valec no lark (my babies i wanted to see themmm??)

or maybe im just reading too much into this

[sugarbombs-n-stuff]

Companion’s Hobbies

I hope you all enjoy this one and let me know what you want to see from me in the future!

(No gage or longfellow this time around, ill add them later if yall want but i think longfellows boring and i haven’t really played with gage enough for me to say much about him,)

Ada - She actually really digs birdwatching! She can name basically every bird you see and she gets sad whenever she thinks about pigeons.

Cait - Most people would assume something violent and while she does enjoy sparring she’s also really good at wood carving. She picked it up when she was enslaved but she didn’t really do anything with it until traveling with Sole.

Curie - Besides science things she enjoys swimming and gardening with Codsworth. After Sole taught her how to swim she was basically always in water though she does panic a bit when she dives down too deep. Her and Codsworth started gardening when she started getting interested in plants and now they do it for the ritual of it.

Codsworth - Gardening and telling stories. He likes the monotony of gardening as it gives him peace of “mind”. And if there are kids around he’ll tell them stories about Pre-War America, folk tales, and even original stories. Deacon and Cait have dubbed it as Story Time with Codsworth.

Danse - Danse enjoys reading and working out. He likes the sore feeling after working out on whatever equipment Sole set up. Most people might believe that when it comes to reading, he prefers non fiction, he does not. If you get a look at what he’s reading when he’s enjoying himself you might find him reading Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit or any of the Narnia books. He’s a huge fan of fantasy but there are times where he’ll read I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream or Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep.

Deacon - Fiber arts like knitting, weaving, embroidery, anything like that. It has some to do with making disguises but he also grew up doing it with his mom and grandparents. His family are Big-Horner ranchers so they had plenty of wool that his grandma would spin and him and his mom would knit and weave with it. His other grandma would dye and weave it mostly. After all these years he kept the skills and still loves fiber crafts. He basically always has a knitting project he’s working on. If you’re close with him(or pay enough caps), he’ll make you something.

Nick Valentine - He’s an old man that listens to audio dramas while he mends either his clothes or Ellie’s. Like Deacon, if he’s close with you he’ll mend your things too. It became his hobby accidentally after he kept ripping his clothes and by the time Ellie came to stay with him it had already weaseled its way into Nick’s heart. He’s also fond of checkers and he and Ellie play it a lot.

Piper - She writes. Its her hobby that she made a business out of. It started a little after her dad died and she does it now to grant her self some peace of mind. She’ll write stories for Nat and they’ll act them out together in their living room through laughs.

Preston - Hunting, Fishing, and repairing , though he isn’t as good as Sturges. He grew up on the island near far harbor so its pure muscle memory when he does it now. His brother taught him how to fish when he was younger and his auntie taught them both how to hunt. He can really clear his mind when he’s doing it and its one of the rare times his mind gives him peace instead of problems.

Hancock - Hancock doodles a lot. It was always getting him in trouble when he was in school but now its what he does when he’s first watch when traveling the wasteland. Even on important documents for Goodneighbor you’ll be able to see tiny almost chibi-esk drawings of whatever’s on his mind.

MacCready - Mac also draws! When writing notes to Duncan he’ll draw pictures of whatever creatures he encountered when traveling with the sole survivor’s merry band of misfits. He works hard on every drawing that he makes and it shows cause even though its just a hobby he could make good money off of it.

Strong - Even though he will never admit it, he enjoys hunting with Preston. He also likes reading shakespeare and he’s slowly but surely branching out to other authors. He can read on his own but if him and Sole are close enough, he’ll ask sole to read to him while he’s cutting up what ever fresh kill he got from hunting.

X6-88 - Insect Taxidermy and Gun Cleaning/Modding. If you walk into his house he has butterflies, bloatflies, blood bugs, etc on the walls. He hunches over a desk and pins their wings and bodies and it’s genuinely one of his favorite things to do. Gun care empties his mind as he lets muscle memory take over. While it is calming , he does it more so when he gets an itchy trigger finger. He’ll take it apart, inspect it, clean it, then reassemble it over and over. He’ll tire of it quickly though

[fluentmoviequoter]

hi hi hi i love your work!! this is definitely self indulgent, but i had an idea for dalton lambert! what if the reader was around instead of chris when dalton got possessed, and got pretty beat up (you choose how bad it gets) and the reader feels awful about it afterwards, feeling like they could’ve done something to help dalton even though there was nothing they could do, and dalton is just so upset that the reader got hurt and it ends all fluffy and comforting? basically just hurt/comfort (my favorite) :’)

Thank you!! This is one of my favorite requests ever!! Hurt/comfort is my favorite too, so I really enjoyed writing this one and hope it's what you wanted! :)

Warnings: angst, detailed physical harm, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end, LOTS of spoilers for Insidious: The Red Door. 3.2k+ words

A/N: I used the second frat house scene and the possession scene for this fic. I decided to put reader in Chris's place in both scenes to give some background to their relationship. Reader says some of Chris's line in the first third or so, but then the story changes. And it's a breakup song, but the title was inspired by "Same Team" by Josh Kerr.

On Your Team

“Dalton, you’re not crazy,” you say as you walk into his dorm room.

“Thanks?” Dalton looks up from what he is working on as you set your laptop on his desk. “Didn’t know you and Chris had joint custody of the key now.”

“We don’t. She said I could keep it because I ‘have a better reason to need to get into your room.’ Whatever that means.”

You take the drawing pad from Dalton and set it aside before pulling the other chair beside him.

“I found this video and I think it could help you.”

You press play, but as the guys in the video begin talking about their mentor, Dalton pauses it and starts another video. Elise Rainier talks about astral projecting and the Further while you and Dalton give the video your undivided attention. Dalton comments once that he feels exactly what she’s describing. As the video ends, Dalton continues to stare at the screen.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” you ask.

“The kid from the frat house?” Dalton begins.

“The pukey kid?”

“Yeah. He said something to me. He said, ‘Close the door.’ What if he didn’t mean a real door? What if he was talking about that door?” Dalton points to the painting of the red door.

“So, you want to go back and ask him?” you ask, your shock obvious.

“I need to know.”

“Dalton, I don’t know that going back into that dark realm is the best idea. You heard what the woman in the video said, the further you go the more dangerous it gets.”

“There’s something… important about this painting. I have to find out.”

You nod before saying, “Okay. But it’s not like Nick is just gonna let you waltz into his room and chat with the ghost in his toilet.”

Dalton laughs, and smiles as he states, “He’ll never know I’m there.”

You walk to the frat house, asking Dalton to share his plan several times. Every time he tells you that he has it under control.

As you walk through the back door and to the stairs, someone asks, “Can I help you?”

Dalton freezes, so you put on a fake accent and smile as you explain, “I have left my brassiere in Nicholas’s room and was wondering if he is perchance home?”

You feel Dalton look at you but keep your eyes on the girl as she tells you Nick is upstairs studying with Paige. You thank her, then drag Dalton up the stairs.

“I need a room with darkness,” Dalton states as you reach the second floor.

“Okay.” You begin testing doorknobs, avoiding Nick’s room. “Then what?” As you try another doorknob, the door opens, and you look back at Dalton. “Bingo.”

You turn off all the lights as Dalton moves a blanket to the floor and sits down. He nods at you, and you begin counting down from ten. Watching in awe as the door opens, you stand and look down the hall, whispering a wish of good luck to Dalton before you lock it behind you. You sit in the chair closest to Dalton’s body and pull your phone from your pocket to pass the time.

Down the hall, Dalton stands in Nick’s bathroom as everything grows darker. He isn’t sure how to find the guy from before, especially with Nick in his way.

While you look at your phone, the lights suddenly go out. You stand up and flip the light switch several times, though nothing happens. You look over at Dalton’s body and quietly call his name. Moving your hand to the doorknob, you try and fail to open the door. Something seems to move behind you, so you peek over your shoulder to check on Dalton.

“Dalton, wake up,” you demand as you continue pulling on the door.

Dalton hears your voice and says your name into the darkness before opening the bathroom door and moving down the hall.

“Close the door!” Someone yells before a hand bursts through the wall and grabs Dalton, pulling him into the wall.

Meanwhile, you step back from the door and begin to turn around before you are pushed against the wall, suddenly unable to breathe as you claw at your throat. Your vision grows fuzzy as you slump against the wall.

Dalton pushes away from the wall and runs toward the room where you are waiting with his body. As he steps through the open door, Nick enters before him, pointing a flashlight at your unconscious body. Dalton sees the demon leaning over you, removing its hand from your neck.

Nick drops to his knees and begins performing CPR on you, yelling for you to wake up as Dalton returns to his body. He gasps and wakes up just before you regain consciousness and sit up, gasping for air. You lock eyes with Dalton and wonder what he’s dealing with in the other realm.

Exiting the student health center, you don’t see Dalton waiting beside the door.

He calls your name as he walks behind you, placing a hand on your arm as he begins apologizing.

“I didn’t mean… I-I just wanted to see if you’re okay,” he stutters, removing his hand as he notices the faint bruise spanning your neck.

“I’m okay.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone could get hurt in the real world.”

“Well, they can. I know that I should tell you to stop, but I know that you need answers. I need a little space right now, but don’t do anything without me. Next time, you might not wake up, and we can’t take that chance.”

“I’ll call you. I’m sorry.”

You nod and send him a small smile before walking away and returning to your dorm. Dalton watches you, then pulls his phone out to call Foster and get some answers about what happened while he was in his ‘coma.’

You’re sitting on your bed, watching a movie in a failed attempt to distract yourself. You get a text and pause it as you read Dalton’s words, ‘It wasn’t a coma I’m going to find the answer.’ As you finish reading, the lights go out.

“Dalton,” you gasp. Immediately, you begin unplugging all your lights and loading them into your arms as you prepare to check on Dalton.

Just as Dalton’s eyes open, a knock sounds on the door before it is opened.

“Just checking on you,” you explain as you close the door. “Are you alright? Because I thought when the lights went out that you were messing with that dark realm stuff again without telling me. Plus, I know you don’t care for the dark, so I thought I could illuminate your room, much like how I illuminate your life.”

“I’m not afraid of the dark anymore,” Dalton says behind you, sounding different than usual.

“Okay. Well, I brought all these down here, so I’m putting them up.”

You continue detangling the lights, plugging in one set at a time to determine which cord goes where. When the lights come on, you don’t see Dalton’s darkened eyes watching you.

“Dalton, have you considered that maybe you shouldn’t go digging around in your past?” You ask, oblivious to his intense stare. “Some things are just better left buried, you know? And sometimes you just have to move on.”

As you speak, Dalton stands and walks away from the bed where you are sitting. You look away from the lights to get his opinion but don’t see him anywhere.

“Dalton?” you ask, standing from the bed and looking around the suddenly empty room.

Scanning the room for the second time, you hear shaky breaths from the corner and slowly turn in that direction. Dalton is standing in the corner, his head hung low.

“Dalton. You okay?” you ask, moving toward him.

Dalton turns, revealing yellow eyes and darkened facial features. You turn and run toward the door but only take a few steps before your body collides with the wall. Landing on Dalton’s bed with a bounce, you ignore the pain radiating down your back as you look up at him. His arm is still outstretched from where he swung it at you. He lowers his arm and walks toward the bed, towering over you as his breathing grows raspier.

“Dalton. What?” you ask quietly.

Blood begins running from his mouth and down his chin as he pulls the drawstring from his sweatpants and wraps it around his hand.

“Dalton? Dalton, tell me you’re in there,” you beg. “Dalton, I know you’re in there. You’re stronger than anything in that dark realm.” He takes another step, and you add, “Do not touch me again.”

Whatever is controlling Dalton causes his body to laugh as his hands continue preparing the drawstring.

In the Further, Josh breaks the chain on Dalton’s ankle, removing control from the demon.

Dalton’s body freezes, and you watch as he collapses onto the floor. You stay where you are for a moment, then peek over the edge of the bed to make sure it isn’t a trick. Dalton’s face is no longer covered in blood, and it looks like he is himself again. Pushing yourself off the bed, you swallow a groan of pain as your back stretches with the movement. You feel your head pound with each movement but ignore it as you focus on Dalton. Grabbing a pillow from his bed, you gently raise his head from the floor and slide it under. Pushing Dalton's legs so that he is lying in the middle of the room, you move to one side of him and reach under the bed to plug some lights in. As the cord stretches, the lights on the other side of the room go out. You crawl around Dalton and lay on your stomach, then slide under the bed so you can see the cords. When the lights come on, you see a demonic face looking back at you from the shadows.

You yell, pushing out from under the bed quickly. A clawed hand follows you from under the bed, scraping across your wrist as you back away. You flip so that you’re sitting on the floor, then lift Dalton’s shoulders and head into your lap as you press your back into his desk, attempting to protect yourself from any sneak attacks from behind.

More creatures begin crawling out of the shadows under the beds and in the corners, so you pull Dalton closer to you, his head on your shoulder as you wrap your arms around his waist. You use your legs to fend off the creatures, kicking as they reach out toward Dalton. Several hands wrap around your legs, digging into your skin as they pull themselves closer. Yelling and kicking, you hope this is enough to keep Dalton safe until he wakes up. A hand suddenly grabs your upper leg by your hip and pulls harshly. Struggling to stay upright, you turn and direct your knee toward the onslaught of hands vying for your left side. Whispering his name, you feel Dalton jerk slightly in your arms and silently pray that he is alive and on his way back to you.

As you glance down to check on Dalton, he inhales deeply and wakes up, sending the creatures away. He rolls out of your arms and hits his light switch, ridding the room of shadows. Without saying anything, he grabs the painting of the red door and a tube of black paint and begins covering it. It takes less than a minute before the door is no longer visible, and Dalton lets himself fall back into the floor.

His phone rings, but his gaze sweeps to you, and he forgets about the call. He moves to his knees and slides over beside you, gently nudging your chin toward him.

“You’re a really sound sleeper,” you murmur.

Dalton shakes his head as his phone begins ringing again. He answers it, says he’ll call back, and hangs up.

“I’m so sorry,” you say, your voice weak as guilt and pain consume you all at once. “I said I’d be here to help, but I wasn’t. And I should have done more to help you, not leave you to deal with this alone. Dalton, I’m sorry.”

Dalton shakes his head as he looks over your body. “No, I’m sorry. You got hurt, twice now, because of me and my obsession with that stupid door. I hurt you, there is nothing you could have done.”

“Dalton don’t do that. I could’ve done more.” Tears run down your face as you shift away from the desk, trying to put space between you and Dalton. “If I had gotten here just a few minutes earlier, or not left you in the first place, you wouldn’t have been alone when the lights went out and none of this would have happened.”

“Look at me,” Dalton demands quietly. When you look up at him through teary lashes, he extends his hand toward you. “Please stop apologizing. I’ll stop too. Right now, you need help.”

You nod, taking Dalton’s extended hand.

“Where are you hurt? Besides the bruise from earlier and your wrist?” Dalton asks.

You look down at your wrist and see the claw marks from when you went under the bed. Shaking your head to clear it, you answer, “My back and my legs. I think that’s it, though.”

“Okay. Think you can stand up?”

“Not without help.”

Dalton helps you stand up, his jaw clenching each time you make a pained sound. Once you’re standing, he holds your elbows to support you and gestures toward his bed with his chin. He walks with you and helps you sit down before kneeling in front of you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper again.

Dalton looks up and you see the shine of tears running down his face. “I did this to you, and you’re apologizing to me?”

“You didn’t do it, Dalton. And it only happened because I failed in the one thing I told you I could do for you.”

Dalton’s hand raises to your cheek, careful not to brush any bruises or cause you more pain. “If I didn’t do it, and you didn’t know what was going to happen, then neither of us have a reason to apologize, right?”

You shake your head and begin to argue, but Dalton maintains eye contact as he brushes a tear away. You nod, still wishing that you could have done more for him.

“Do you want to go to the hospital?” Dalton asks.

“And tell them what?” you ask with a wet laugh.

“Good point,” Dalton agrees, smiling faintly.

He holds out his hand and points to your wrist, gently cradling your arm as you extend it to him.

“You’re lucky my mom packed for me, that’s the only reason I have a first aid kit,” Dalton says as he pulls it out of his desk drawer and opens it on the bed beside you.

“Are you hurt?” you ask, suddenly remembering you never asked.

“No, I’m fine. Physically.”

“And the door?”

“It’s closed. For good. This might sting.”

You brace yourself following Dalton’s warning. Squeezing a handful of his comforter in your other hand, you watch as he uses an alcohol wipe to clean the scratches on your wrist. He whispers apologies as he works, then discards the wipe and removes a bandage from the first aid kit. After letting you change into a pair of his shorts so he can see the damage to your legs, Dalton works in silence as he cleans and bandages the scratches and bruises spanning your legs. As he reaches the top of your left leg, you stop him.

“I don’t know how bad that one is,” you warn.

Dalton nods, and you pull your hand back, watching as he pushes the shorts up to see.

“It’s going to bruise,” Dalton informs. “Feel broken?”

You shake your head, and Dalton nods, cracking an ice pack several times before placing it on your leg. He directs your hand to it, and you hold it as Dalton stands.

“You said your back hurts? What happened?”

“Nothing,” you answer too quickly. “I just fell.”

Dalton’s face falls as he lowers himself back to your level. “What did I do?”

“You didn’t do anything. Something else threw me against the wall.”

Dalton takes a shaky breath before asking, “How bad is it?”

“Feels like a deep bruise,” you answer honestly, “not going to be able to do anything comfortably for a few days, but probably nothing serious.”

Dalton tugs the hem of your shirt as he asks, “Can I check?”

You nod, and Dalton helps you stand, pushing the back of your shirt up and leaning down to look at your skin. He runs a gentle finger down your spine, causing you to suppress a shiver. Dalton pulls your shirt back down, moving in front of you.

“I’m not going to apologize again,” Dalton promises. “But I need to ask if you want me out of your life. I understand if you never want to see me again.”

You cut him off, interjecting, “No. I don’t want to see anyone but you, Dalton. I meant what I said earlier, I’m on your team, win, lose, or tie. Sure, today might have felt like a loss, but you closed the door and came back to me. That’s all that matters.”

“Most people would have told me to get lost after what happened earlier.”

“Maybe they just don’t understand you. Besides, you could tell me to get out and find someone better equipped to help you, keep you grounded.”

Dalton pushes a piece of hair out of your face as he smiles and says, “But you’re who I wanted to come back to.”

You smile and take a step closer to Dalton.

“I want to kiss you,” Dalton states, laying his hands on your hips, avoiding your bruises.

“I want you to kiss me,” you reply.

Dalton does most of the work, mindful of your injuries as he moves so you don’t have to. He keeps the kiss short and sweet, a promise of more to come. As Dalton pulls back, his phone begins ringing again. Rolling his eyes, he answers it and talks to his mom and dad as he plays with your fingers. You tug his hand as he begins talking about you, but he waves you off as he agrees to something before hanging up.

“What was that?” you ask.

“They want to meet you when you feel better.”

“You move fast.”

“Don’t want another guy to get possessed and sweep you off your feet,” Dalton teases.

“Literally,” you add. You see Dalton's smile fall and quickly lean over to kiss him. “That was a joke, if you apologize again we’ll both be injured.”

Dalton puts his hands up in a faux surrender before kissing your temple. “Good to know you’re not going anywhere.”

“I meant it, I’m on your team.”

Dalton smiles before kissing you again, mumbling that today was a win in his book. You couldn't agree more.

[yukidragon]

Can you analyze the new picture of nick sauce drew?

I presume you're talking about this one, right?

I actually did a mini analysis of this picture in a comment I made on the original post that everyone should check out directly, but I can expand on it here.

On the note of commenting, please consider leaving a comment of your own to Sauce's lovely art and let them know how much you enjoy it! Artists thrive on feedback. And since I'm plugging, consider joining the SnaccPop Studios Patreon where a very spicy picture of Jack got posted recently~

Now onto analyzing this marvelous piece of art. Remember, this is all headcanon and speculation on my part, but that's pretty much what you come here for anyway. It's going to be a while yet before we really know what's going on with Nick.

Let's start off with the obvious - expression. Nick is looking sideways at the viewer, giving the impression of being annoyed and tired. It serves as a contrast to how put together he is, dressed up in a cool and sexy outfit. It also gives a good view of his broken heart tattoo on his face. Couple this with the upside-down hearts in the background, it makes me think Nick has tried and failed to find love in the past, and it's exhausting.

What's also exhausting is his job. Nick is an online influencer and dom. He's always got his face plastered online. He needs to create content to draw people in, and a big part of that is his physical appearance. This is especially true when he's selling a fantasy to his followers on LonelyFans. Sex sells, and Nick knows how to sell it well, but it's also dehumanizing.

That's what I think the power strip and CRT scan lines are alluding to. Nick always has to be plugged in online to an audience, always watched through a monitor. He's popular, he's successful... he's a product. He's dressed up in a pretty bow for his audience, ready to be shipped through lines of cable to his customers' screens.

Nick presents such a shiny and beautiful life, all sparkly and alluring. He's a dom, seductive and in control. That's how he presents to the world, a pretty mask. It's what earns him a living.

But a mask is exhausting to wear all the time. An online influencer is having to wear that mask virtually every day as they churn out content, especially when they're the content being farmed out for engagement. It can be pretty dehumanizing. You can forget what it's like to have a genuine connection with people offline rather than through a screen. That's where I think the caption comes in.

You've been so out of touch.

I think it plays back to the interaction Nick and MC have at Yogurtopia. Nick presents himself as he actually is and not the mask he wears. He's a shy, awkward person looking for something sincere. He wants a genuine human connection, not someone lusting over his persona. He's probably been burnt trying to find that connection online, only for his fame to create this parasocial image of him that the real Nick can't measure up to.

It's so exhausting having to be so shiny and perfect. It's heartbreaking when you constantly let down everyone's expectations of you. When people see him as the cool influencer, the always in control dom, they probably were disappointed when they finally saw the real Nick behind his sparkling mask.

That's what I read into this picture anyway. I could be totally off base and it's just Nick acting all cool and disinterested while being dressed for succ-sex, hahahaha. I hope you enjoyed my thoughts!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[amaranthinecanicular]

THE KING'S CANARY TAKES FLIGHT!

The king's canary has abandoned his duty. Jimmy would argue he just quit a bad job. Either way there's a bounty on his head and a curse around his neck, and with Grian and Joel's voices ringing in his ears, Jimmy's dreams of freedom seem further out of reach by the day. That is until he saves a blaze hybrid who, for some reason, is hellbent on returning the favor. Alone, Jimmy is pathetic. Honestly, even with Tango, Jimmy still thinks they're kind of pathetic. But with a little bit of luck they just might make it.

[My gift for the @mcytblrholidayexchange, for @thesleepycat! I'm so sorry it's so late, but I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you had a stellar holiday!]

[alternatively read on ao3.]

:

THE KING’S CANARY TAKES FLIGHT!

It’s a catchy headline. Jimmy glares down at the trodden newspapers and admits at least this: it is a catchy headline.

One week and three towns out from the capital and the gossip still refuses to die. Jimmy blames the excess of perfectly reproduced ink on paper; if redstone wizardry hadn’t automated the process, he’s certain the printing press would never have taken off, and he’d have been able to slip through the cracks of the kingdom long before news could spread. 

He skirts the edge of the street and keeps moving. The phantom twinge of a boot grinding into his toes is easy to ignore. Less easy to ignore: the voices of the townsfolk, tittering over his crime. He hears his name but more often he hears his title. Canary. Canary. Canary. 

“Poor birdie. Can’t be easy, being the king’s canary,” says one woman. Jimmy doesn’t know if she’s being sarcastic or sincere; he can’t risk looking her in the face.

“Pah! Canary. Yellow-bellied sapsucker, more like,” says a man. “All he ever had to do was stand there and not die and get paid for standing there and not dying. Couldn’t even do that.” He’s starting to sound like Joel. “Got no idea what a real, honest day’s work looks like. Spoiled and ungrateful, you ask me. If I were him, with gifts like that, I’d be up in the castle no questions asked. Bitty canary’s nothing but a coward—ow!”

The man hops up and down on one foot, glaring at the oblivious butcher who’d stomped on it. 

Jimmy draws his hood low. 

:

Joel thought he was cursed by a witch. Grian thought he was born with it. The Red King said it was a gift from the gods, divine proof that he was meant to rule and no harm was to come to him.

Jimmy doesn’t know anything about a witch, or the gods, or the circumstances in which he was born, but he thinks Joel was closest to the mark. It’s a curse. It's always been a curse.

:

A dilemma: Jimmy needs food. 

His wings are numb with cold and his feet feel like he’s leaving behind the skin with every step, but food is the pressing issue. It’s taken two weeks and five towns of varying industry, but he’s finally run through the stock he took from the castle. He’s got plenty of money for more, but money isn’t really the problem. They just put out a reward for him. Martyn’s doing, if he had to guess. If anyone was considering letting him go before, they certainly aren’t now. 

Redstone has taken hold here, turned the town metropolitan, and he can hear as well as smell all the local dishes that the vendors are hawking: caramelized redstone sweets, charred and spiced meats, cups of blazepowder soup. They smell so good. He keeps to the outskirts of the market square, watching from the corner of his eye as steam wafts up every time the vendor ladles out chunky red broth. Jimmy feels the hiss of a burn on his hand; a second later the vendor’s eye twitches at a splash of hot soup. She looks up, and Jimmy ducks away before their eyes can meet.

There are no good options. If he pays for a meal, he’s almost guaranteed to be recognized and exposed. If he tries to steal something, he’s almost guaranteed to be caught and exposed. (He has no talent for thieving, as Grian and Joel proved every time they dared Jimmy to nick something, back when money was tight.) If he does nothing, his traitorous stomach will complain loud enough to garner attention, and then he’ll be exposed. Or he’ll starve. Which is also bad.

If he could, he’d have hiked through the forest until he got to the plains biome. Away from the towns and the crowds, free to hunt for his own meals. But every time he drifted from the path Joel and Grian’s voices rang in his head, reminding him that he’s never been good at camping, that mobs seem drawn to him like they knew he was weak, that he could barely hold his own with them around and on his own he was next to useless. 

He’s almost at the end of the square. What then? Keep going and hope he doesn’t collapse on the road to the next town? Even the thought of food leaves him lightheaded, he’d never make it. Wheel back around and pass through the market a second time, and risk being recognized? His pace slows to a crawl. Joel and Grian were right—he can’t survive on his own. He doesn’t know why he tried. He was warm and well-fed in the castle, and if he wasn’t appreciated then at least he was secure, and he only had to die occasionally.

Among all the spiced fruits and roasting meats, there is a small cart selling apples. The man working the cart is distracted (reading a paper with Jimmy’s reward plastered across the front, because what else would he be doing), only halfheartedly calling out prices to the bustling crowd. Jimmy is several yards away. Then only a handful. And then he's within arm’s reach, and no one has looked his way once. Surely no one will miss an apple? The owner of the cart shouts, and Jimmy flinchs, but he's only making a sale to a man on the other side of the cart. They fall into animated conversation. Jimmy stands scant feet away, unnoticed.

He could do it. He could do it now. That would show Grian and Joel. If Jimmy could steal an apple, what else could he do? What couldn’t he do? Of course he could survive on his own! Oh, they’d feel so terrible for thinking otherwise. They’d fawn and shower him with praise, and they’d tell him how capable he was, how strong and clever, how they were wrong to doubt him. They’d grovel, probably. They’d tell him they were sorry that he had gone through what he’d gone through, and how they appreciated that it had been for them, and that he didn’t need to do it any longer because he had tons, oodles of other skills and gifts that made him worth the burden of keeping him. He’d show them. 

If he ever saw them again, he’d show them.

The nearest apple is shiny and perfectly red. Jimmy reaches out.

Pain ravages him. It explodes hot along his side, blunt force that shatters his arm and leg and pulverizes his insides, even as it doesn't. He staggers. He chokes. Every breath feels like a betrayal, his body piercing itself over and over. The ghost of broken ribs. He chokes. He groans. 

It doesn’t stop hurting. It’s getting worse. Fear and pain leave him nauseous. Where will it come from? Where where where—

There. A redstone automobile down the street, blurred by his tears. It’s moving too fast. The wheel is wobbling wildly, the redstone in the undercarriage is sparking. It’s coming straight at him. No, it’s—it’s coming straight at the apple cart. 

The crowd is parting around him, now, he thinks. He’s getting looks—recognition or alarm, he doesn’t know. He tries to say run, but all that limps from his mouth is a moan. The man speaking to the vendor turns and sees him. Jimmy thinks he sees him. They have seconds.

“Run,” he thinks he says. Gasps, sobs, something.

The world jags and falls sideways. A man is above him. The man from the apple cart, and the vendor looking perturbed over his shoulder. One of them is speaking, the words bleeding and incomprehensible. Jimmy retains none of it. The pain is sun-bright. It razes away everything else.

Scant feet away, a vehicle screeches, and an automobile, out of control, smashes into the apple cart. There’s shouting, screaming. The vendor is gaping at the wreckage that is his livelihood. The man he was speaking to gapes as well, first at the splintered remains of the automobile and the cart, then at the mashed apples, then at Jimmy. If Jimmy could see him, he would know, then, the difference between alarm and recognition.

Jimmy doesn’t see him. Jimmy is dead. 

:

Jimmy doesn’t wake up right away. First, he stops being dead. Then he’s sleeping. He’s aware when this happens, in the loosest sense of the word—there’s no dreaming, no out of body experience, nothing in particular to tether him to the world at all. But the body knows when it’s dead and when it’s not, and so Jimmy knows. He lays quietly, thoughtless, floating, starry, until his body decides to stop doing those things. Then he wakes up.

The first thing he notes is that he’s still starving. At least he’s no longer cold.

The ceiling is a bland beige, splotched with dull scorch marks. Not back in the castle, then. That’s good. He blinks. He blinks again. His eyes are crusty and dry. So is his mouth. It’s very, very dry in here, actually, and very hot. Practically boiling, but in an arid way. Now that he’s awake, his armpits and the small of his back start to prickle with sweat. He has to wrestle his arms out from under a heavy quilt to rub the last of the sleep and death from his face, and his palms scrape against chapped lips. Still, he’ll always take too hot over too cold.

“Hey, you’re awake,” says a voice. “How are you feeling?”

There’s a blaze hybrid standing in the middle of a small, round room. He’s stoking a little fireplace with—with his bare hands, by the looks of it. Wow. Jimmy’s never seen that before. 

The hybrid turns to him fully. He’s shorter than Jimmy, wiry and sharp all over. He has wild blond hair, swept back from his face, the ends of it wavering into candle-like flickers of flame. His eyes are red all the way through. A long, slender tail flicks behind him, tipped in a merry ball of orange flame.

“I’m okay,” Jimmy says neutrally. 

“That’s good. You, uh, looked like you were in a lot of pain before.”

Jimmy does his best not to react to that. Grian always chides him for wearing his heart on his sleeve. “Okay. I’m feeling much better now.”

“You look it,” says the blaze hybrid. Jimmy chances a glance at his expression, then away. Does he know? Impossible to tell—mostly he just looks relieved. “Do you remember what happened?”

He does, for the most part, though he doesn’t remember this man. But the faces were all blurring together at the end. “Kind of.”

The blaze hybrid scrapes a small wooden chair out from a small wooden table and drags it to Jimmy’s bedside. Jimmy does his best not to stiffen up too noticeably. The man throws himself into the chair, his limbs poking in different directions like an awkward bundle of sticks.

“We were in the market. You looked like you were in pain,” he says. “A lot of pain. You called me and the apple vendor over to you, and then a carriage took out the cart behind us. Then you—” He pauses. “Passed out. I brought you here.”

Passed out. Jimmy doesn’t correct him. Instead he focuses on the “here,” and how very not a doctor’s office “here” is. Unless this man is the town doctor, and this is just the very cluttered and unsanitary place he practices medicine. Or maybe he’s a trained healer so he saw no need for a doctor? This could be innocent. It could mean nothing. 

Stupid, says a voice in his head that sounds like Joel. He knows. 

Jimmy does not panic. He is so so good at not panicking. “Well. Thank you. For that. Um. And—and where is here, exactly?”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. Welcome to my home!” The blaze hybrid throws out an arm, gesturing to the small room: the tiny fireplace, the tiny table, the tiny dresser, the few utilitarian appliances and the many tinkering knick knacks scattered all over that Jimmy can’t make heads or tails of. “Temporary home. Place I’ve been renting for a few months, I guess. Welcome either way.”

“Thank you,” Jimmy says again. Still in town, it sounds like. Okay. Okay. He can work with this. What would Joel and Grian do? Fight their way out. Not really an option for Jimmy; he’s always frail after revival, unlikely to win a fight or a foot race. But he’ll figure it out. And the blaze hybrid might not know who he is. Probably. Definitely!

The blaze hybrid says, “Sorry if this is forward, but. You’re the king’s canary, aren’t you?”

“I don’t like that name,” Jimmy says immediately, like an idiot. Death always muddles his brain, blunts his filter. “I—I actually have to go, right now, immediately. Places to see, people to go, you understand how it is, thank you again for the help—”

He lurches for the side of the bed, where the floor, predictably, rises to meet him. Less predictably, the blaze hybrid catches him around the shoulders.

“Hey, hey! Careful, man, slow down.” He pushes Jimmy back to the bed. Jimmy wishes he could say it was forceful, but Jimmy's pretty sure he's just as weak as a foal, and terrified out of his mind. He must do a poor job of hiding it, because the man makes a funny sound in the back of his throat. “Oh, I’m not—I’m not going to, like, turn you in or anything. No one else recognized you, and I didn’t tell them. Don’t worry about that.”

Jimmy will absolutely worry about that, thank you very much. “Um. Okay.”

The blaze hybrid holds up his hands. “I mean it. You’re safe here. The only reason I asked is because I was wondering if it was your, uh, power that happened? Back at the apple cart? I think that’s what happened, I just wanted to be sure.”

This feels like a trap. Like the king’s men are just outside the door, waiting for confirmation before they burst in and drag him back, where Ren will likely soliloquize about loyalty and betrayal and then Martyn will lob off his head. But if that were the case, shouldn’t they have already done the bursting and the dragging? Jimmy all but confessed his identity two seconds ago. He sees no way out of it now.

He nods, just once. 

“I thought so.” The blaze hybrid's eyes are deeply red. Fire dances inside them. Jimmy can’t tell if it’s reflection from the fire or something inner and innate. “Thank you. You saved my life.”

Jimmy swallows. “You’re welcome.”

“Seriously. Thank you.” He reaches out and squeezes Jimmy’s shoulder. He’s smiling. “So: don’t call you canary. Got it. What should I call you?”

“Jimmy,” Jimmy says, after he fails to think of a proper alias that isn’t Joel or Grian or King Ren. “Jimmy Solidarity.”

“Jimmy Solidarity. I’m Tango, of the Tek variety. You can just call me Tango.”

Jimmy nods. He doesn’t know what else to say. 

Tango says, “You hungry?”

Is he trying to stall Jimmy long enough for the king’s men to get here? Most likely. Jimmy’s stomach decides he doesn’t care. “Oh my gosh yes please I’m starved.”

:

Three bowls of blaze powder soup later (better than what was being sold in the street, if only because it is now in Jimmy’s belly), Jimmy finally feels like more of a human again. 

“Thank you,” he sighs, reclining back on the pillows of Tango's bed. The bowl is still warm in his hands. He’s loath to let go of it. “That was amazing. I’m, uh. Sorry if I took too much.”

Tango is still on his first serving. He laughs, and it doesn’t sound mean-spirited at all. “Dude, don’t worry about it! Nothing a chef likes more than someone enjoying his food.”

Jimmy swirls his spoon through the creamy broth at the bottom of the bowl. “Is that what you are? A chef?”

“Nah, not really. I just like cooking. Sometimes you gotta have a hobby that’s just for you, not for money, you know?”

“Sure.” It’s not something Jimmy has ever thought about, but he likes the idea. “Um, I should. I should probably go.”

“Okay,” Tango says easily. “You want some tea before you head out?”

Jimmy might actually cry. “Yespleaseohmygosh.”

:

The tea is even better than the soup, spiced and fragrant, smoky in the aftertaste. Somehow, against all odds, the company is even better.

Rather than being a wildly successful chef, Tango works with a nomadic troupe of demolitionists. Not a job Jimmy’s ever heard of before, but it sounds cool when Tango describes it. According to Tango and his expansive hand gestures, the redstone wizardry boom has resulted in cities and infrastructure rapidly expanding, deconstructing, rebuilding. In the chaos—his eyes brighten with the word—there’s opportunity for innovation, discovery, entrepreneurs. 

“And blowing stuff up in creative ways,” he adds. “So that’s always fun. I just figured out how to make the buildings implode instead of explode—reduces debris and collateral damage, and just looks awesome.”

“That’s amazing,” Jimmy says sincerely, and Tango’s smile glows, literally. It is suddenly imperative that Jimmy break eye contact.

“Another cup?” Tango asks.

Jimmy wants to, very badly. He’s enjoying talking to Tango. He’s enjoying the warmth and the tea and the conversation where both parties see each other as people, instead of a tool or a burden. “I should probably get going.”

“Oh,” Tango says, then laughs, a little bashful. “Yeah, of course. Look at me, chatting your ear off! Let’s get you up.”

He takes Jimmy’s cup and then his arm in a firm, claw-tipped grip. His hand is bony and pleasantly hot. With his support Jimmy finds his feet, and manages three whole steps before his knees buckle.

“Whoa whoa whoa!” Tango catches him, and leads him back to the edge of the bed. “You okay, buddy?”

“I’m fine,” Jimmy says. He feels a little lightheaded, a little breathless, more than a little humiliated. “This just happens when I—it just happens sometimes. I’m used to it.”

“Do you want to rest up a little longer?”

“I really should get going. You’ve done enough for me as it is.”

Tango nods slowly. “How far are you headed?”

“Far.”

“Right.” 

A pause. Jimmy clasps his hands between his knees and wills strength into his body. Usually it takes about three hours after revival to fully recover, not that Jimmy will tell Tango that. It’s not like he hasn’t had to get up and go minutes after death before. Ren was the target of back to back assassination attempts once, and Jimmy made do then. He can feel Tango reappraising him, the paleness of his face, his worn clothes and unwashed hair. He struggles not to shrink on himself.

This was a nice reprieve—a lovely surprise after a terrible death. He needs to leave before he ruins it. Oversteps Tango’s bounds, annoys him, reveals himself as something to be used or pitied.

Tango hovers, then sits beside him. 

“It’s just that…you still look kinda iffy, dude. Is there anyone I could bring you to? Anyone you trust to help you get…wherever you’re going?”

“I do,” Jimmy says quickly, eager not to be thought of as pathetically alone. “I mean, I did. I mean—I don’t, anymore. They wouldn’t have been safe, is all, with the whole on the run thing, and anyway, they wouldn’t have—that is, I…” He trails off, and says lamely, “It’s complicated.” 

Tango’s voice softens. “Okay. I get that.”

They sit together. Tango offers him another cup of tea; Jimmy takes it. He blows across the surface, watches the flecks of leaves bob on rippling waves. 

After a minute, Tango claps his hands on his knees and stands up. 

“Well hey, if you’re going to go you should at least go in some good shoes.”

He crosses the small apartment to the door, where Jimmy’s tattered shoes are propped up against the frame. Instead he grabs the sturdy pair of work boots beside them. 

Jimmy blanches. “I can’t take your shoes!” 

“Sure you can.” Tango sizes up Jimmy’s foot, decides it’s close enough, and pushes the boots into his arms. “They’re my extra pair, so you’re not putting me out. They might be a little snug, but I think snug is better than what you were working with.”

“That’s not the point! You’ve done too much for me. I can’t take your food and your tea and your shoes, I just can’t.”

Tango gives him an amused look. “Okay, but you saved my life, remember? I value that a little more than an extra pair of shoes. Take ’em. I insist.”

Jimmy does take them, but only because Tango also tries to give him new clothes, cloak, and packed-up food, which he turns down. This time when Tango helps him up, though Jimmy teeters, he keeps his feet.

Outside it’s still winter. In the warmth of Tango’s apartment, Jimmy had almost forgotten. Since his death night has fallen, and the streets are empty and bitterly cold. 

“You’re sure I can’t convince you to rest a little longer?” Tango asks.

Jimmy draws his cloak tight around his shoulders. “Long way to go, I’m afraid. Thank you for everything.”

Jimmy looks back at him. It’s the first time he’s looked into Tango’s face in a while: he’s pointy all over, angular, bordering on gaunt. He’s a candle in the dark. His smile is tinged with concern.

“No need to thank me,” he says. “I hope you get where you’re going, Jimmy. Take care.”

He offers his hand. Jimmy shakes it. If either of them linger, Jimmy tells himself it’s only because Tango is so warm. 

Jimmy walks away. With every step further he remembers that he’s a fugitive, and that he needs to go quickly, quietly, and carefully. On to the next town, and the next, and the next, until he’s run out of towns entirely and has made it to where the sky is blue and the horizon opens into forever. He looks back once, and sees Tango still standing there, waving. He looks back again, but now the door has closed, and Jimmy doesn’t know which window was Tango’s. The gifted boots squeeze gently at his toes.

His hands twitch with splinters as he reenters the market square, where the stalls have been folded up for the night and the street is empty. 

Only it’s not empty. The owner of the apple cart is despairing over the broken remains, picking through sharp shards of wood. He hisses and shakes out his hands. Jimmy grimaces. He tugs his hood lower and turns on his heel.

“Hey,” the man calls behind him. “Hey you!”

Jimmy walks faster.

“You! You’re the one who—stop, blast it! You owe me a new cart!”

“I really don’t, actually,” says Jimmy, dropping his voice two octaves. A hand grabs his shoulder. Jimmy’s wings protest, pushing back hard under the cloak. The hand is shaken off. So is his hood.

“It’s you,” the man says.

“No it isn’t,” says Jimmy.

“It is! You’re the canary! That reward could buy me a whole fleet of new carts.” He looks around wildly. 

“Please don’t,” says Jimmy, but the man is already hollering. 

“I’ve got him! I’ve got the canary, guards! Someone!”

Jimmy turns to run but the man seizes the back of his cloak. His hand closes on the arch of a wing, and Jimmy yelps.

“Hey! Let go of him!”

There’s the distinct, winding pain of a body shouldering hard into Jimmy's ribs. Then Tango is tackling the man to the ground.

Jimmy goes sprawling. He struggles to his knees through the phantom dings and scratches of two men wrestling on cobblestone. Behind him, Tango is fuming, “What the hell, man! He saved your life, what are you doing?” 

All along the street, lights are coming on. Doors are opening. Heads poking out. Eyes going wide. The town is folding in on him. Jimmy can’t breathe.

And Tango is above him, once again.

“Come on!”

He offers his hand. Jimmy takes it.

They run.

:

Grian and Joel would have come with him. 

If he’d asked. If he’d told them. Of course they would have. They would have protected him, taken care of him. They would have sighed and scoffed the entire time. They would have resented him, and made sure he knew exactly how much of an inconvenience this was, and didn’t he know he was upending all their lives, and why couldn’t Jimmy just do his job? He was always causing problems, and never considering the effect it had on others. 

The moment Jimmy revived on the cold marble of the throne room and realized he had to leave was the same moment he realized he couldn’t bring Joel and Grian with him. He couldn’t even tell them. They would have insisted on joining, whether Jimmy wanted them to or not. Whether they wanted to or not. They cared for him; they would risk implication and conspiracy for him. And they would never let him forget it.

He’ll never see them again. That hurts too much to think about, so he doesn’t. 

:

“I’ve ruined your life.” 

“You haven’t ruined my life, come on.”

“I have, I absolutely have. Your home—”

“My temporary home.”

“Your temporary home, your job, all your things. Poof! All gone, Tango! Because you helped me!” 

Tango is starfished flat on his back. Jimmy is making the ground’s acquaintance with his face. They fled down the darker road out of town, figuring they were less likely to be followed, and after an hour of hard running, they both pancaked in the dirt. Jimmy has too many cramps to name, and a doubled echo of Tango’s cramps on top of that. The stars above feel judgmental. Jimmy is glad to stare at hard-packed earth instead.

“Oh my gosh, you’re my accomplice now,” he moans. “They’re going to be looking for you too. Tango, your life is over, I’ve ruined it.”

A warm hand pats at Jimmy’s back with infinite, undeserved patience. “You didn’t ruin anything, buddy. I mean it! This is for the better, if you think about it.”

“For the better. Ha.” Jimmy spits out a little bit of dirt. “How?”

“Like you said, that place was temporary. My team will pick up my stuff, so I haven’t lost any of it. Well, except for what Bdubs will scavenge. That’s a given.” Tango waves a hand like being forced to abandon his entire life in the dead of night is hand-wavable. “And the good thing about working with your buds is that they’ll always have a job for you if you need it, so no harm there. Honestly, demolition was fun, but I’ve been thinking of trying something new for a while now.” 

“You’re a wanted man now. How are you going to go back? You’ll be arrested on sight.”

“Pshaw. One guy saw me help you.”

“The whole town saw you help me!”

“Hey, you’re the one they’re after, not me. By the time I get back, they’ll have completely forgotten I exist. Tango Tek who?”

Jimmy rolls his head to one side to give Tango a flat look. Tango is already looking back at him. He looks amused. That makes no sense.

“Okay, honesty time? I wanted to offer to go with you before,” Tango says. “Help you get wherever you’re going. But you seemed pretty jumpy, and I thought it would freak you out. Offer’s still on the table, though. I like traveling new places, seeing new things. Makes for good machination inspiration. And two is safer than one, right?”

“You don’t know me,” Jimmy says. His voice is weak. 

“I don’t know how many times I can say this, but you literally saved my life. That makes you a pretty cool guy in my book.” He looks Jimmy dead in the eye, and says simply, “You seem like you could use some help. I’d like to help.”

Jimmy believes him. In the back of his mind he can hear Joel and Grian taunting: just like Timmy to trust the first stranger he meets. Can’t ever hack it alone, can you, Tim? Probably he’s about to run off with some maniac bent on selling his curse to the highest bidder. Or an opportunist who intends to hold this favor over his head for the rest of his life. Would be just like him to get into hot water like that. Sure, it would be nice if there were someone out there who really wanted to help for the sake of helping, and it would be nice if doing so didn’t lead to resentment or blackmail or a direct ticket back to the castle. But that person is a fantasy. That person doesn’t exist.

But Jimmy believes him.

He sniffles. Some dust goes up his nose. “We don’t even have a torch.”

“Okay, you got me there,” Tango concedes. “We’ll need to get some supplies in the next town. Oh—here, this is yours.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out Jimmy’s coin purse.

“It’s why I followed you. You left it in my apartment.”

Jimmy just gapes, so Tango plops the purse on his back. 

“Take your time,” he says, generously.

Jimmy does take his time. After a few long seconds of fish-mouthing, he says, “I hope you took some. I was going to bribe you into not giving me up.”

Tango snickers. “Darn. Missed my chance. Guess you’ll just have to buy our first meal instead.”

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. Even if Tango is being genuine, Jimmy is still a wanted man. Bringing him along could only put him in danger. Grian and Joel would be judging him so, so hard if they knew.

But Grian and Joel aren’t here.

“Deal,” Jimmy says.

Tango smiles. Jimmy dares to smile back.

Then Jimmy yelps at the ghost of sharp fangs sinking into his neck. “Ow ow ow—Tango, spider! Spider spider spider!”

“What spider where now—whoa!”

Jimmy yanks him up just as a spider the size of his torso skitters out of the forest, barely missing a lunge for Tango’s face. 

The spider chases them a full second hour until torches intersperse the road again. If this had happened yesterday—or even a few hours ago—Jimmy is sure he’d have burst into tears. 

But Tango makes this funny yelp-laugh sound when he screams, and when they finally reach safety, he cheers. Jimmy, despite himself, cheers too.

:

The next town is close enough to reach by afternoon the next day. They walk through the night and arrive exhausted, unwashed, hungry, and in better spirits than Jimmy expected. By a lot, actually. Turns out sharing misery halves it instead of doubling. Who knew?

Jimmy tries to keep a low profile while Tango goes to retrieve food and supplies. Waiting in an alley with nothing but his thoughts (and Grian and Joel’s imaginary advice), feeling equal parts conspicuous and insignificant, he half-expects Tango to return with guards. Maybe more than half. Even if it hadn’t all been a ruse to gain his trust and turn on him when most profitable, Jimmy finds it hard to believe Tango won’t come to regret his decision when he realizes what deadweight Jimmy is.

But all Tango returns with is two loaves of bread stuffed with roasted peppers and Jimmy’s exact change. He even managed to secure lodging. The innkeeper refused to give them a two-person room when she hadn’t vetted the second person, so Tango conceded to a single. Then he helps Jimmy climb through the window in the back. There’s a lot of flailing and scrambling and frantically beating wings, but once they’re through, Jimmy lays flat on the floor and stares up at the ceiling in wonder.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Jimmy says breathlessly. “You’re a genius.”

“Aw shucks.” The flame on Tango’s tail flares and puffs. “Thanks, man!”

They crowd onto the tiny bed and Jimmy is out as soon as his head hits the pillow. He wonders, as he falls asleep, if maybe Tango cut the innkeeper in, and he’ll wake to guards waiting to arrest him and Martyn laughing at him for thinking he got away, and Tango and the innkeeper splitting the reward money…

He wakes twelve hours later to Tango fiddling with some new redstone contraption. He sees Jimmy’s awake and says, “Morning, buddy!” Then he hands him a bowl of oats with fresh winter fruit, and a hot cup of spiced tea. 

:

In the next town, Tango sells his little redstone doohickey, and uses the money to pay for their meals. It’s only fair, he says. And when Jimmy protests that bankrolling the trip is the least he can do for all the help, Tango just laughs.

“Back with my crew, we split everything evenly,” he says. “Theoretically, anyway, when we weren’t enabling Etho’s spending habit and Bdubs wasn’t trying to weasel his way out of it. Regardless! We should be supporting each other equally. That’s what partners do, right?”

Partners. Jimmy doesn’t trust himself not to say something stupid, so he just nods. Partners. That sounds nice.

:

On the road, they talk about their people.

Skizz, Impulse, Bdubs, Etho—Tango’s demolition crew, a cast of colorful characters. “You’d like them. They’re good guys. Skizz especially, he’s my bestie. Nicest guy in the overworld.”

Tango has loads of stories, a broad range from heartwarming moments with Skizz to absurd adventures with Bdubs to wild tales of Etho that make Jimmy question whether he’s a real person or not.

“He soloed a wither once,” Tango declares proudly.

“No way.”

“He did.”

“No way! You’re lying.”

“Jimmy,” Tango gasps, scandalized. “Would I lie to you?”

Jimmy’s gut instinct, for some reason, is no. “No one can solo a wither.”

“Etho can. Though if you asked Bdubs, he’d tell you he soloed it. Now that’s a lie.”

Jimmy hums. Night is falling rapidly but the sky clings to a deep, dusty orange. Joel always says that means snow.

“Grian and Joel might be able to take down a wither together,” he says. “Especially if I was there to help them. Definitely not alone, though.”

“You talk about Grian and Joel a lot,” Tango says, a gentle invitation. 

“Oh, sure. I spent most of my life with those jerks. Don't really remember anything before I met Grian. I think I lived by the sea?” He daydreams sometimes about sparkling blue that stretches on forever. He’s not sure if it’s a memory or a dream. “But then I got saddled with Joel and Grian, and we kept each other alive. Or I kept them alive with my curse, not that they’d be caught dead saying thank you, no sir.” 

He chuckles, and thinks to stop there. But Tango is watching him and smiling. Jimmy snaps his eyes back to the sky. 

“I sort of grew out of my wings as I got older, can’t really fly with them, you know? But I could fly when I was a kid, and there I was, zooming through the trees, when bam! I get slapped in the face by some invisible brick wall, and that makes me bam! smack right into a tree. A second later, and bam! Grian smashes into a tree right next to me. Turns out he was flying behind me, saw me crash, and that made him crash, and his crash is what made me crash in the first place.” 

Tango laughs. “Feedback loop of pain, huh? That’s how you met?”

“Yep. Then we found Joel two years later, and that was that. Locked in with two bullies. We kept each other alive. Or I kept them alive with my curse, not that they’d be caught dead saying thank you, no sir! They’re my—” 

He almost says brothers. Thank goodness he didn’t. Even the thought of Grian and Joel’s ridicule makes his cheeks burn with shame. 

“They’re my roommates, kind of. Or they were, before I started working for Ren and living in the castle. They’re why I stuck around so long, actually.”

The way their jaws had dropped, the first time he gave them their cut. He’d had the thought: I can finally repay you. I can finally be of use.

“They were the first ones who called me a canary,” Jimmy says, brightening. “It was just a joke. An annoying one that I hated, but it was ours, so I didn’t really mind that much. Martyn heard it once, and he told Ren, and, well.” He stares hard at the orange sky. “Kind of got overdone, after that.”

“Yeah,” Tango says. When Jimmy glances over, his smile is a little dim. “I bet it would.”

He seems glum. Jimmy doesn't like that. "You know, Joel has a curse too. Turns into a big monster at night. Needs true love's kiss to break it, the whole thing."

"Yeah?" Tango perks up. "What kind of monster?"

"Oh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you," Jimmy says breezily.

Tango's grinning again. Thank goodness. "Try me."

:

Money was always tight, when it was just the three of them. Jimmy minded, of course, though not as much as Joel and Grian did. Privately he liked that it was them against the world. The worst part, to him, were the nights they had to split a thin serving of broth and Grian and Joel were in foul enough moods to needle Jimmy for not pulling his weight.

Still, they made ends meet. And there at the end, they were even doing well. Jimmy can confidently say that Grian’s the best architect in the kingdom, and his reputation was only ever growing. He was commissioned by some nobles in the capital. This is the one, boys, this one changes everything, Grian would say, over and over, and Joel would grumble, it blummin’ better be, how much you keep banging on about it, but he’d catch Grian and Jimmy in headlocks and knuckle at their hair, so he was excited too.

They got to the capital. It was bigger and busier than any place Jimmy had ever been, built into the shadow of the king’s castle. While he worked, Joel took up odd jobs throughout the city. He was hired to clear out a nest of phantoms that was terrorizing the outer districts. He let Jimmy tag along.

Jimmy felt the death coming up on him. Claws raking his back, tearing his throat. He swung around, looking for Joel, and saw a king’s guard instead. He was bleeding and exhausted. Jimmy tackled him out of reach of a phantom’s talons; somewhere in the distance Joel screamed Timmy!; before the pain had a chance to fade, Jimmy shuddered. Jimmy died.

Jimmy un-died in the castle. Joel and Grian were nowhere to be seen. Instead there was the king’s guard, who was actually the king’s hand, who was actually Martyn.

Your whole life’s about to turn around, mate, Martyn said. You’re welcome.

:

“Why didn’t you turn me in?” 

He manages to rein the question back three more days, until it pops free on the road. It’s started to snow, just a handful of delicate flakes that Tango tries to catch in his mouth. He’s looking at Jimmy, frozen, with big eyes and a pointed tongue poking out of his mouth.

The question is still as ill-advised as it would have been on day one. He’s sure Grian would think so. Why would you bother putting the idea in his head, he would say, why push it? Grian is smart about things like this, keeps his cards close to the vest. Joel is more forward, likes to know things upfront, doesn’t mind being confrontational about it. But Joel wins fights that Jimmy doesn’t. He’d say it’s plain stupid.

Tango doesn’t say it’s stupid. He says, “Yeah, that’s fair. I’d want to know too.”

It makes Jimmy feel almost reasonable for asking. Tango wipes his mouth and kicks thoughtfully at the road. 

He says, “I’ve got no loyalty to the king. Nothing against the guy, I’ve heard some good things, but I’m netherborn, right? And I barely feel any national pride there, so not much obligation here.” 

“There’s a reward,” Jimmy points out. Imaginary Joel and Grian groan in frustration.

Tango’s eyes narrow skeptically. “Sure, but you didn’t commit a crime, did you? Unless I read that article wrong. Seems to me you just left your job. You should get to quit like anyone else. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

He says it so simply. Just as simply as Jimmy thought it was.

“I mean,” Jimmy says, “I did steal some bread.”

Tango barks a laugh. “Well, now I have to turn you in. Moral obligation.”

Jimmy nods solemnly. “It’s only right. Clap me in irons, throw away the key.”

Tango keeps laughing. His nose scrunches with it. Jimmy feels a little silly for being so proud. He’s made loads of people laugh before, thank you very much. It’s just that he’s usually the butt of the joke instead of the one making it.

He likes making Tango laugh. It’s a nice laugh.

It doesn’t snow much longer, but they spend the time counting who can catch more snowflakes on their tongue. Jimmy wins by one.

:

“Here,” Jimmy pushes one horn into Tango’s hands. He’s so excited. 

Tango turns it over, as confused as intrigued. “Is this an animal horn? Where did you get this?”

“Just now, when I went to the bathroom! There was a goat out there, it tried to kill me—”

“What—”

“Honestly it shouldn’t even be here, Grian says they only live in the mountains. But it missed, and it broke its horns off against a tree trunk.”

“Wow.” Tango admires the color and the shine, the smooth break and the grooves in the dark keratin. “It’s so cool.”

“It gets cooler.” Jimmy lifts his horn to his lips. A sweet note carries, and a flock of birds take to the sky. Tango’s jaw is on the floor. 

“How’d you do that?”

“Grian knew how, and he showed me and Joel,” he says. “I thought if we were separated, or lost, or see a threat or something, we could blow this to find each other.”

Tango’s eyes are shining. “That’s an awesome idea. Can you show me?”

:

Not every town can be reached in one hard day’s walk. Sometimes they have to camp out on the road, laying out bedrolls and building fires to keep winter at bay. Tonight it’s cold enough that Tango gives Jimmy his extra bedding; he’s netherborn, he says, so he doesn’t need as much to keep warm. They keep the fire high and scoot the bedrolls close, talking too late into the night. And Jimmy just…tells him.

“You’re going to build a ranch?” Tango asks. 

He sounds surprised. He probably looks surprised, not that Jimmy would know, since he’s having trouble looking at him.

The ranch isn’t something he likes to talk about. Every time he says it out loud, it sounds sillier, so he tries to keep it tucked safe and close behind his heart. He mentioned it to Joel and Grian once, though he’s sure they don’t remember it. Why would they? They’d been so dismissive at the time. There aren’t enough riches in the world that could convince me to sell you a farm, let alone teach you how to run it, Grian had sneered. Joel pointed out that even if there were, no one in their right mind would stick around once they realized what a slow study Jimmy was. Jimmy felt small, and he never mentioned it again.

With Tango, he told him only as much as he needed to. They were heading out of the forest biome and into the plains, where the land unfurled into smooth, rolling prairies and burst with sunflowers. The logic was sound enough on the surface: Ren’s borders ended with the biome, and with one step past Jimmy would be free and clear. Tango was just glad to visit somewhere he’d never been before. He didn’t ask further questions, and Jimmy didn’t offer further answers.

But they’ve been traveling together for weeks, now. Tango has never made Jimmy feel small. 

“I’m not planning on building one, exactly,” Jimmy mumbles. He busies his hands by sitting up and thrusting his hands at the fire. A talent of Tango’s: he can build a beautiful fire in three minutes flat. “Grian’s a way better builder than I am. I’m just hoping to buy it off of someone. Something small, if the owner was already hoping to retire or something. And then I’ll pay them extra to stay on a little while and teach me how to run things.”

Tango sits up too. “That’s an awesome idea.”

Jimmy’s head snaps up. “Really?”

“Yeah, man! Way better to admit when you need help than to crash and burn just because you tried to tough it out alone. Keeping the old rancher on until you’ve got the hang of it is smart.”

Tango looks genuinely impressed. He looks admiring. Jimmy’s wings start to flutter. 

“Do you know anything about running a ranch?” Tango asks. He doesn’t sound accusing like Joel, or mocking like Grian. Just curious.

“Not really,” Jimmy admits. “But I’m pretty good with animals, and I don’t mind hard work. It might take me a while to get the hang of something, but I’ll stick with it until I do.”

“That’s great,” Tango says earnestly. “I think it’s way more useful to be able to stick to something than to be good at it right away.”

One of Joel and Grian’s favorite pastimes was poking fun of Jimmy until he shouted and flustered, and then laughing at how splotchy he got. They said he looked like he had a rash. He hopes he’s not as pink as he feels now. “Thanks,” he says again.

Tango leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes bright. “What kind of animals will you have?”

Jimmy hums. “Chickens, for sure. Lots of cows. A couple goats, I think. Maybe a warden?”

Tango’s laugh is surprised and delighted. “A warden?”

“Yeah. I was thinking like—if I could train it, then maybe it could use it’s sonic thing to round up the herd. Is that weird?”

“No, I love it! Wardens are so cool, and we know so little about them. Plus they’re kind of cute, in a scary monster way.”

Jimmy beams. “Exactly! Tango, I could not possibly agree more.”

“You’d have to bring that one up from the underdark yourself,” Tango says thoughtfully. He lights up like a firefly. “I could help you! I bet I could think of a way to get it safely to the surface.”

“You definitely could, that’s not even a question. You’re brilliant.”

Tango’s eyes go ruby round. Jimmy’s mouth opens and shuts. Should he take it back? He should take it back. 

But Tango just smiles, broad and lopsided. “Thanks, Jimmy.”

“You’re—” Jimmy’s voice cracks. God damn it. “You’re welcome, Tango.”

They stare at each other. Tango says, “You have frost in your eyelashes.”

Jimmy’s eyebrows shoot up. “Huh?”

“You have—” Tango clears his throat. “You know, because it’s so cold. It doesn’t happen to me because I run too hot, so I just, uh. I noticed.”

“Oh,” says Jimmy.

Tango nods, pink at the ears. He turns quickly to the fire, stoking it with a few deliberate pokes of his fingers, then says a little too loud, “I’d love to make some mazes for your animals. The warden especially. Obstacle course type things, you know, for enrichment.”

They're just daydreaming. Jimmy knows that. But he wants it. It’s a little too revealing, how much he wants it. 

He wraps his arms around his knees and rests his chin on them. “Yeah? Like what?”

:

The good news is that they’re getting closer to the border, if Jimmy’s map is to be believed. The bad news is that they misjudge the distance to the next town and run out of food a full three days before they get there. Tango slaps together ingenius redstone traps to catch hares that tide them over, but that doesn’t stop them from ordering two full stews each when they finally come upon a tavern, nor does it stop them from hunkering down right outside the building and inhaling the stew in companionable, ravenous silence. 

Deep into the second bowl, Tango giggles, “Oh no, we’re pathetic.”

Jimmy thinks that yeah, they kind of are. He thinks, maybe, he doesn’t mind being pathetic with Tango.

:

Working for the king wasn’t so bad. It really wasn’t. 

On his good days Ren was generous, kind, goofy and forgiving. He cared about his subjects’ problems and pushed for the industrialization that improved quality of life throughout the kingdom. He treated Jimmy like a subject instead of an equal, but like a subject he was respectful of. Most of the time. Half the time.

The issue was that, the other half the time, he stopped being the good King Ren and started being the Red King. Vicious and uncompromising. A nose for weakness and for bloodshed. Jimmy suspects it’s a curse, though it’s clear he’s not eager to break it. He makes lots of enemies, the Red King does. Jimmy knows that better than anyone. Once he died impaled on a traitorous guard’s spear. When he came to, curled around a wound that wasn’t there, Martyn was beheading the would-be assassin three feet away, the spear was cracked in half at the foot of the throne, and the Red King was howling with laughter. 

Never look him in the eye, when he’s like that. Never expect an apology. Never expect to be free.

But reiterate how generous he was. Happy to pay for Jimmy’s services, and provide him with safety, food, comfort. On Jimmy’s first day he said, The crown appreciates your service, lad. You have been touched by divinity to prove our birthright by providence, and for this we shall be gracious. How might we show our appreciation? No price is too high for the king.

Jimmy is still surprised he managed to stop quaking long enough to request a stipend for his family. (Family sounded more sympathetic than roommates, he figured. He was glad Joel and Grian weren’t around to hear.) 

Martyn looked annoyed by the request, imposing at the king’s right side, and Jimmy tried to clarify, something modest, please, but Ren didn’t hesitate. The first payment was enough to set the three of them up for life, if they were scrupulous. The second payment ensured they could live comfortably without having to work another day ever again. The third payment was excess, and it never stopped. Grian and Joel were overjoyed. 

Tango is frowning. It’s a strange look on his narrow face. Jimmy has rarely seen him without a smile.

“I guess that’s generous,” he says, slowly.

“It was,” Jimmy insists. He fingers the leather pouch weighed down by his earnings. More than enough to get him where he’s going and then some. The Red King may be waiting to kill him for abandoning his post, but Jimmy can’t deny that the only reason he has any chance at all is because of his kindness.

“Right. Right.” Tango scrubs a hand through his hair—it sends sparks flying off the ends. Jimmy watches them swirl with the snow, and then he watches Tango’s mouth purse as he makes funny humming and scoffing sounds. Jimmy looks back at the sparks again with renewed focus.

“It’s just,” Tango blurts, “You didn’t really have a choice, right? I guess it was nice that he paid you, but you weren’t allowed to say no to the job offer, because it wasn’t really an offer. And obviously you weren’t allowed to leave.”

Jimmy shifts uncomfortably. “I guess. What’s your point?”

“I don’t know. I just don’t think you should be defending him, is all. He forced you to hurt for him. He didn’t give you a choice. You shouldn’t have to be grateful.” 

His eyes are fierce. Striking, hot like live coals. The sharp angles of him look harsh in a way that Jimmy’s never seen before. He doesn’t know what to say. 

The indignance goes out of Tango’s shoulders. His tail curls. “Sorry. Not my place.”

Jimmy thinks of agreeing with him. Instead he says, “Don’t be. That’s nice of you to say. Thanks.”

Tango smiles, but it doesn’t have the spark it usually does. They walk for a few more hours. Tango’s silence is uncharacteristic, and it makes Jimmy antsy. He feels like he’s done something wrong. He doesn’t know how to fix it. 

Eventually they decide to take a break before the next leg. Not for long, if they want to sleep in beds tonight, but it’s good to get off their feet for a little while. Jimmy nibbles at some jerky and sips at his waterskin. The only downside to the break is how the winter reasserts itself. He very carefully does not wince at the cold water that needles down his throat.

“Here,” says Tango. 

He holds out his hand for the waterskin. Jimmy gives it to him, though he knows he has his own. Tango clasps it firmly between both hands, and after a moment, hands it back. Steam puffs cheerily from the top. The next sip Jimmy takes is hot enough to make him shiver. 

“Thank you,” he sighs. He takes another scalding gulp and shuts his eyes to focus on the warmth as it flushes through his chest and belly. “You’re amazing, Tango.”

Tango says, “You know, I worked in a coal mine.” 

It catches Jimmy off guard. “You did?”

“Yeah, for about a year. They hired me as an engineer, to make things safer and more efficient. Not an easy balance, but a fun challenge.” Tango licks his lips, then says, “I actually worked with canaries. Designed an apparatus that resuscitated them when they passed out.”

“You did?” Jimmy says again. Broken record, Joel would say. Jimmy can’t be bothered to care. His chest is winding tight.

“Yeah.” There’s something off about Tango’s face, his voice. He looks a little earnest. He looks sad. “The owners of the mines weren’t too interested, but the miners themselves, they took as many as I could make. We all loved the little guys. Didn’t want to see them get hurt.”

“Oh,” Jimmy says. “That’s really cool.”

It’s a silly thing to cry over, so he doesn’t. He does indulge in a moment of bravery and reach out to hold Tango’s hand in his. Tango just runs his thumb over Jimmy’s knuckles, over and over. He doesn’t let go, even when they make it to town and a room and a bed.  

When Jimmy wakes the next morning, Tango is still holding his hand.

:

“Tango!”

Tango jumps up with a start, sending the wood for their fire pit scattering. “What! What’s up? Are we running?”

“No no no—” Jimmy skids to a stop in front of him, wings flaring for balance. He’s grinning so wide his cheeks hurt. “That caravan we just passed. There was an old woman in the last cart, did you see her?”

Tango, gathering the sticks back up again, gives him a quizzical look. “Yeah?”

“Right, well, she had a thorn in her foot, I could feel it, and I figured she wouldn’t recognize me because she could barely see. So we got to talking, and I took the thorn out—bunions the size of mountains, man, I’m telling you—and look! Look what she gave me!”

He sweeps his hands out from behind his back. The green glass bottles slosh and clink together. Tango’s jaw drops.

“Ohmygosh, is that—is that wine? Jimmy! That’s wine! You’re amazing!”

Jimmy laughs, triumphant. “I know! I’m amazing!”

They jump up and down for a while. 

“Okay okay okay, we should be smart about this,” Tango says. He stops jumping but keeps flapping his hands. “If we’re careful, I bet we could make these last the rest of the trip.”

Jimmy nods rapidly. He’s already removed the stopper on the first bottle. “Right. Just a couple sips a night, to warm us up.”

He takes a swig, then hands the bottle to Tango. “Right! Just a night cap. We’ll play it smart.”

:

“Can you?” Jimmy asks, deep into the second bottle of wine.

Tango has been giggling for the past hour, this funny consonant sound like an ignition clicking. The more they drank the bigger he built the fire pit, until the flames roared higher than they are tall, but Tango is happy, so Jimmy is happy. “Absolutely! Can I what?” 

“Tango, Tango. Can you tango?”

Tango’s face is flushed. The pink clashes with the red of his eyes and the amber of the fire. Jimmy thinks it’s lovely. “Can I what?”

“Don’t laugh, this is an important question!” Jimmy is giggling too now. “I’ve wanted to ask you since we met. Do you actually know how to tango?”

“Jimmy.” Tango lifts his chin, expression sloppily stern. “What kind of question is that? Of course I know how to tango.”

Tango does not, in fact, know how to tango. They dance anyway, spinning and dipping and swinging each other in circles. They make flagrant and frankly ugly use of their horns. Tango nearly throws Jimmy into the fire by accident and then fishes him out at the last second. In return, Jimmy tries to lead Tango in a waltz he barely learned at the castle. They laugh so hard they stomp on each other’s feet.

They dance and dance and dance until they spin out of the safety of the firelight and get attacked by a skeleton. Then they stumble back to the fire and dance some more.

:

THE KING’S CANARY AND HIS COAL MINE?

“Is this kind of racist?” Jimmy asks. “It feels kind of racist. They’re calling you a whole coal mine.”

Jimmy and Tango squint together at the newspaper that nearly got them caught. Tango’s involvement has finally been noticed. His attempt to get them lodging for the night was met with guards and a frantic escape into the forest, where they crouched beneath a rotted old log until their legs fell asleep and their pursuers moved on. Then Tango pulled out the flier he’d grabbed in his haste.

He pokes at a short paragraph detailing his life. Well. His work history, mostly. “I think maybe it’s a reference to the fact that I used to work in a coal mine. I’m surprised they knew that.”

“Still feels kinda racist,” Jimmy says, then sighs. “I’m sorry, Tango. I knew you’d get caught up in my nonsense eventually, and it’s finally happened.”

Tango snorts. “I think I’ve been caught up in your nonsense for a while now, partner. This is like recognition for all my hard work! It’s kinda cool being on a wanted poster, huh? None of the other guys have bounties on their heads, not even Bdubs. I can’t wait to see their faces.” He prods Jimmy with a pointy elbow. “Guess we really are partners in crime now, huh?” 

Jimmy knows he should feel guilty. But Tango is smirking at him, like they’re sharing a secret, and Jimmy banks the warmth of it in his chest like like something to be hoarded and adored. “Guess so.”

Tango’s name in the papers means they have to avoid towns and main roads. Meaning, in turn, that the safest option is to just keep to the forest.

This is fine in the daylight. Exciting, even! Jimmy always marvels at how Tango keeps their energy up. Cutting through the forest is more direct than the roads, anyway. It’s a bit of a struggle, but they’re making good time.

Then night falls, and suddenly it’s mobs mobs mobs, and Jimmy is shrieking and fighting with creepers and zombies and spiders while Tango is scrambling to find a clearing and build a fire big enough to ward them off. Somehow, they manage, after many scrapes and bruises, but winter is only ever deepening. The cold reaches into Jimmy’s bones. All of his joints ache, and even with the fire beside them and all of Tango’s extra bedding he shakes so hard he can’t sleep. He tries to keep his teeth chattering to a minimum.

“Jimmy,” Tango whispers from the next bedroll. Jimmy cracks his eyes open. From one side Tango is lit up in gold, but from the other the moon bleaches all his warm hues blue. “Jim?”

Jimmy does not let himself stutter. “Yeah, Tango?”

“You’re still shivering.”

“Um. Yeah. I guess I am. Sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

Jimmy falters. “You already gave me all your blankets. I—I keep putting you out.”

“You’re not putting me out. Don’t think that.” 

His hand brushes Jimmy’s cheek. Jimmy sees it coming and still he jumps at the first brush of warm thin fingers.

“You’re freezing,” Tango says, brow screwing into a knot. He bites at his lips, his eyes wide and worried. Moonlight glints off the points of his teeth. “Okay, so—I run hot. Blaze hybrid and all. If you’re up for it, I think it would help a lot if—if I get in there with you? Insulation and body heat and stuff.”

Oh, Jimmy won’t freeze to death at all. His face is on fire. “You don’t have to, Tango.”

“I want to,” Tango blurts, a few sparks flaring off the ends of his hair. Then he subsides, fidgety and shy. “If you want to, I mean.”

“I want to,” Jimmy says. “That could—that might be nice. Thanks, Tango.”

Tango’s shoulders sag in relief. His smile is toothy and painfully awkward. “Okay. Cool. I’ll just, uh—wriggle on in then. Incoming.” 

Jimmy snorts. Tension, miraculously, dissipates. Tango does wriggle in, and when he’s done wriggling, he tucks the blankets under him to insulate the heat. The difference is instant, cocooning Jimmy in warmth so profound it practically tranquilizes him, eyelids suddenly heavier than bricks. He knows he should be embarrassed. Gratitude and affection drowns it out.

“Is that better?” Tango asks. 

“Yeah.”

“Good. Okay, good.”

His arm rests gingerly across Jimmy’s shoulders. Already half asleep, Jimmy nudges into the narrow cage of his body. His sternum is hard and Jimmy’s nose thaws against it. "Thanks, Tango." 

Tango’s arm relaxes. The world smells of spiced tea. "Always, Jimmy."

Jimmy sleeps better that night than all the many nights he’s spent on the road thus far. Better than any night in the castle. Better than he has in a long time.

:

They’re less than a day’s travel from the border when the snowstorm hits. While the sun is up Tango and Jimmy trudge and trudge and lob snowballs at each other, and when the sun is down they’re forced to cobble together some sort of shelter. Eventually Tango rigs up something droopy and wet that does nothing to keep out the cold but at least will keep them from being buried alive. 

“Oh my god, it’s awful,” Tango laughs.

“Shut up, it’s amazing,” Jimmy says, because it is.

They drink the very last of the wine and then hold each other close for the rest of the night. For the first time since Jimmy met him, Tango shivers. Jimmy holds him hard and tries his best to rub warmth into his back.

And then Jimmy gets caught.

:

It’s his own fault. Of course it is. It always is.

The snow has stopped by morning, but Tango is still shivering. His golden hair is just hair, no sparks or flames at all. His tail is barely a smoldering ember.

“I’m fine,” he assures Jimmy though cracked blue lips. “It’s just a cold, it’ll pass. Not so good in the rain and snow, is all. I’ll be right as rain in no time, don’t even w-worry about it.”

Jimmy does worry. The only food they have left is hardtack, and the only water is freezing cold. Tango’s so weak that he can't even heat it. “There’s a town near here. You rest, I’ll keep my head down and get you something warm to eat.”

“Don’t,” Tango says, but any sternness is undercut by his trembling. “I’m telling you, I’ll be fine. If we get going now we’ll make it to the border before sundown. I’m serious, Jimmy, don’t.”

“I won’t go,” Jimmy lies. “Rest anyway. One nap to regain your strength won’t kill us.”

It takes some convincing, but eventually Tango agrees, and drops off nearly as soon as Jimmy cards a hand through his hair. Then he tucks Tango in, builds the fire as high as is safe, and hikes through the snow to the nearest village.

When he gets there, the townsfolk are too busy digging themselves out to really spare him a second glance. Notably, he doesn’t see a single paper with his name on it, not even in the tavern. He keeps his head down anyway, he’s careful, and he doesn’t whoop with joy when the tavernkeeper says they serve blaze powder soup, no matter how badly he wants to. 

As soon as the town is at his back he sheds his cloak to wrap up the bowl and keep the heat in. A little sloshes over the side, but not much. In minutes his spine is aching and his muscles are seizing with cold, but it’s fine. Tango isn’t far. 

He doesn’t see the club coming at all. Suddenly his head is cracking open, and his teeth are rattling in his skull, and starbursts are blotting out his vision and he’s on the ground, in the snow. 

There are men. There are ropes. Jimmy blinks sluggishly and stares at the soup, splattered and steaming, and thinks, but that was meant for Tango; what will Tango have to warm him now? And he thinks, I’ll have to get free, so I can get more.

Darkness pulls him under.

:

“For the last time,” says the mercenary. “Where’s that coal mine attached to your hip?”

He’s one of five. Jimmy doesn’t know which one; they all look the same, even a week out, with the same rough beards and ugly laughter and bad humor. He might be able to discern them if he ever looked at their faces for more than a second at a time, but he refuses to do that, even when they yank on the rope slowly skinning his wrists and grab his chin and sneer inches from his face.

“For the last time,” Jimmy says back. “I wasn’t traveling with anyone.”

The man growls. Jimmy’s wanted poster is shoved in his face. It’s old, the ink smudged and barely legible.

“Bullshit. It says right here, coal mine. We want that reward, canary, and we’ll have it.”

“The paper’s wrong,” Jimmy snaps. “But kudos, you know, for being able to read. You don’t look the type.”

The back of his hand splits Jimmy’s mouth open. Blood speckles the snow in bright ruby droplets. The earth spins and Jimmy starts to list toward it until a meaty hand throttles his collar and brings him nose to nose. Jimmy looks sharply to the side.

“Watch yourself, canary. Mouth off like that again and I’ll skewer and roast you over this fire.”

It’s a bad fire, objectively. Tango’s are better by far. Jimmy shouldn’t say so, but he’s going to, because he’s angry. When he woke up and realized what had happened, he was angry. The next day he was angrier. And the day after that he was angrier still. He keeps expecting himself to cower, but his fury won’t let him. He’s angrier than he’s ever been in his life. He’s angry at the mercenaries, and at Ren and Martyn. He’s angry at Joel and Grian and his curse and the world and himself. He’s so sick of fear and sadness and hurt. The hurt won’t ever stop but he can get rid of the others. He can spit in this man’s face and damn the consequences. It’s not like he hasn’t died before.

Jimmy opens his mouth but all that comes out is a grunt of pain, echoed by the mercenary when another one comes and kicks him in the hip.

“No, you fuckin’ won’t. Reward’s only if we bring him in alive. You kill him, I kill you.”

Around the pitiful fire the other mercs guffaw in unison. The first man growls, gives Jimmy a shake like a dog with a rabbit, and then throws him aside. 

“Reward don’t say nothin’ about roughing you up,” the man says. His boot digs into Jimmy’s stomach. Jimmy glares down at the snow and dirt and blood and doesn’t give him the satisfaction of crying out.

They try to get Tango’s whereabouts out of him for a while longer, but eventually grow bored with his silence. After a short debate they toss Jimmy the bones of their dinner. Jimmy ignores it.

In the dead of night, when most of the mercenaries are sleeping except the one on watch, Jimmy thinks he can hear the musical call of a horn in the distance. He thinks he must be dreaming. 

:

At the end of the second week, the mercs get drunk. More drunk than any other night. At first Jimmy thinks this might be an opportunity for escape.

They drink more. They get reckless. Jimmy thinks, oh, this is bad. He’s right.

All they do at first is taunt him. Shove him around a little. A few more bottles in and they come up with a quick, admittedly creative game involving Jimmy’s curse. One mercenary grabs a rock and has the others stand around him in a loose circle. Jimmy is forced to stand in the center as well, and as the man with the rock turns slowly, threatening each of his friends one by one, the other merc watch Jimmy for his reaction. When Jimmy flinches at a strike to the shoulder or hip or face, the mercenaries try to dive out of the way of the hit they know is coming.

They do this for an hour. Jimmy is barely standing by the end of it. He doesn’t cry out once.

He doesn’t cry out, either, as they drag him to a tree and tie him to the trunk. Drunk fingers make poor knots. He could get out of this, he thinks. If he could just get his feet under him. If he could just make his hands work and his vision stop swimming.

The mercenaries are speaking to him. Words register on delay. 

“Can the canary sing for himself?” one mercenary slurs. “Let’s find out!”

“It won’t work,” Jimmy mutters. His curse has never worked on himself. They don’t hear him.

One pulls a crossbow, and takes too long fumbling a bolt in. The others egg him on. “If you kill our reward, I’ll take it out of your hide,” one of them says, but doesn’t stop him.

“Stop distracting me,” says the man with the crossbow. He takes wavering aim. “I’ll jus’ knick his arm.”

Jimmy stares down the stock. He thinks about all the time Joel and Grian have ever laughed at him. He thinks of all the times Joel and Grian have ever made him laugh. He thinks of Tango, and the fragrance of spiced tea. He wonders if dying for real will feel like every other time he’s died. 

A bolt slots neat and sharp between his ribs, and Jimmy thinks, yes, this hurts just as much as every other time.

The pain is blinding. He died to an assassin’s arrow once, choking on blood that both was and wasn’t flooding his lungs. It took ages. He hopes this is quicker. He can’t catch his breath. His head hangs and tears press from his eyes. For a second his vision clears.

There’s nothing there.

His head snaps up. The mercenary is still taking aim.

He shouts, “Tango, don’t—” 

An inferno consumes the camp, and Jimmy’s vision sears to colorless white. 

The mercenaries are screaming. A fire is roaring. Someone cuts Jimmy free, but he doesn’t see who. He can’t see anything. Pain comes in from everywhere, too much to separate. He’s burning and he’s bruising and he’s coming apart. All of it coalesces, all of it becomes the one lancing bolt that isn’t in his ribs. He can’t think of anything else. He can’t think at all. 

“Tango,” he chokes. “Tango—”

His vision starts to go. No. He can’t die, not to this. If he dies, then that means Tango—

If Jimmy could lift his head, he’d see the forest on fire, and the mercenaries burning alive. He’d see Tango’s heaving back, bright as a star, and he’d see him turning back to find him, a hand pressed to the wound in his side.

Jimmy does not see. Jimmy is dead.

:

First, Jimmy stops being dead. Then he’s sleeping. In some starry, dreamless place, he grieves. Then he wakes up. 

The first thing he notes is the ornate ceiling, a mural to Ren’s magnificence. Various takes on this same theme are painted in every room of the castle, so it's pretty obvious where he is. Either he was dead much longer than he's ever been or some other mode of transportation cut the travel time down to a fraction. Maybe both.

The next thing he notes is Grian and Joel standing over him. That explains that--Grian probably flew him here. They stood over him like this the first time he died, too. An old man had had a heart attack nearby, though they didn’t know it then. Jimmy was dead, and then he wasn’t, and then he was staring at Grian’s face, a thousand miles away, and Joel beside him, blubbering into his hands. When they realized he was alive they screamed. 

They don’t scream this time, and they aren't crying. They look like they might have been, though. Their eyes are rimmed with red.

“Look who’s awake,” Grian says. His wings are poorly groomed and his smirk doesn’t look half as shit-eating as it usually does. He nudges Joel in the side. “Go get him, Joel.”

Joel glares. “Why me? You go get him!”

They argue about it for a minute, though Jimmy is too muddled by death to follow. Who are they fighting about getting? Ren? Martyn?

He settles back into his pillows. It doesn’t matter, does it?

Grian wins, eventually, much to Joel’s chagrin. He turns his glare on Jimmy, as he usually does. Jimmy expects to be noogied or boxed around the ears. Instead Joel hooks an arm under his neck and butts their foreheads together. 

“If you ever scare me like that again,” he says, and sniffles hard, “I’ll bloomin’ kill you, you hear me?”

He huffs and grumbles his way out of the room. Jimmy watches him go. He turns his attention to Grian.

Grian waves a little. “Hi, Tim.”

“Hi, Grian,” Jimmy says, and he bursts into tears.

Grian holds him. “There there, you big baby,” he says, and pats his back gently. 

Tango is gone, Jimmy tries to say. He tries to say, I’m sorry you had to save me again, I’m glad to see you, Tango’s gone. Tango’s gone.

Instead he cries and snuffs and gets snot all over Grian’s red sweater. Somehow, Grian lets him. He pushes at Jimmy until he scoots over on the bed. There’s more than enough room for them both; the beds in the castle are bigger and softer than any he shared with Tango on the road. That thought sets him wailing again. Grian chirps at him, sits him up until Jimmy’s slumped in the center of the bed and Grian can sit comfortably behind him, picking through his wings while he hiccups and sobs and shakes.

The tears don’t stop, but eventually they quiet. Various saline fluids drip silently down his face while Grian preens him. 

Grian says, “Why didn’t you tell us you wanted to leave, Timmy?”

Jimmy’s breath shudders out of him. “You—you would have come with me.”

“Obviously.”

Jimmy can hear Grian’s eye-roll in his voice. He bites the inside of his cheek. “…You would have made me feel bad about it. I didn’t want to ruin your life.”

Grian’s practiced fingers twitch to a stop deep in his feathers. He huffs, withdraws his hands, then closes them firmly on Jimmy’s shoulders and turns him in place.

“You ruin my life every day, Timmy,” Grian says. He's frowning, but he meets Jimmy's eyes with determination. “But so does Joel. And I ruin yours and his too. We're all messing with each other, all the time. That’s how it’s meant to be, or we wouldn’t be—we wouldn’t be—”

“Yeah,” Jimmy says. Grian’s face falls into relief.

“We went after you anyway, you understand?” he says, gentler than before. “It was a lot of work, but we’d do it again. And we’d only make fun of you a little. So next time, just take us with you, save us the trouble.”

“Okay.” Jimmy’s eyes swell up again. “Okay.” Then he says, “I met someone.”

“I know. We were tracking you both. We found him first, then he helped us find you.” Grian pulls his sleeves down over his hands to wipe carefully at Jimmy’s face. More tears take the place of the last.

Jimmy can barely get the words out. “He’s gone, Grian. I don’t, I can’t—he’s gone.”

Grian’s eyebrows fly into his hair. “What?”

The door opens. Joel staggers in, supporting a wild-eyed Tango. His hair is a mess, singed at the tips. His slim chest is a cocoon of white bandaging. He is very much not dead.

“Jimmy!” 

Tango breaks free despite Joel’s protest. He launches at Jimmy and immediately falls flat on his face. Jimmy feels it first.

Jimmy screams a little. Then he lurches out of Grian’s grasp and straight off the side of the bed. 

“You’re—you’re alive! Tango, you’re alive!”

“I’m alive? You’re alive!” Tango springs up. His nose is bleeding. His hands are warm on Jimmy’s arms, helping him up, then on his face. The calloused pads of his fingers, the chips of his claws, the warmth of him. Alive. “I can’t believe you went to town like that, I told you not to, ooohhh, I’m so mad I could kiss you—”

“You’re alive,” Jimmy is sobbing. “You’re alive.”

Tango’s mouth wobbles, then purses, then wobbles some more. That makes no sense. What reason does he have to cry?

He pulls Jimmy into his chest. Every awkward angle and sharp jut of bone digs into him, and Jimmy only holds closer, tighter. 

“I thought I lost you,” Tango says. His voice cracks. “I thought I’d never see you again. When I saw what those bastards did to you, I lost my mind. I could have burned the whole forest down. I could have killed them all.”

“You did kill them,” Grian says flatly. “Like, all of them. Barely left any for me and Joel. Rude.” 

"I hurt you," Tango says. His arms around Jimmy stop holding so tight, which won't do. "When I burned them, I hurt you. You died for me, again. I'm so sorry."

"I don't care about that. I come back to life, Tango, you don't. You—" He pushes Tango back by the shoulders, feels his heart break at the sight of the bandages. "Oh my god, you did get shot. I knew it. You can’t do that again, not ever.”

Tango makes a clucking, clicking noise. Through the panic, Jimmy thinks: I missed your silly noises. “Yeah, okay. I’ll do my best to not get shot again.”

He’s smiling. It’s brilliant. He’s brilliant. He's alive.

Tango taps their foreheads together. Jimmy’s eyes flutter shut. His nose is clogged, but he fights for a deep breath anyway. Just one breath of that spark and spice. Just one more. Just one more.

“Also I’m here,” Joel says loudly. “If anyone cares.”

Jimmy ignores him.

:

Jimmy is on the road again. The air is cold but not bitter. The snow is finally starting to thaw.

Grian and Joel filled him in on what happened to his bounty. Turns out as soon as they learned that he fled, they went to appeal to the king on his behalf. Predictably, the king ignored them. Joel and Grian are not to be ignored, as Jimmy knows better than anyone.

After weeks of dedicated campaigning and psychological warfare, in which they managed to turn the whole capital city against its monarch, the Red King gave way to King Ren. King Ren remembered that actually he liked that funny little canary guy, and didn’t think it was all that groovy to hold him against his will. The bounty was lifted, a retraction was printed, and Grian and Joel took off after Jimmy. Instead they found Tango fuming in the snow. The mercenaries were acting on a bounty that wasn't even live anymore.

Jimmy isn’t ready to believe any of it until Martyn, grudgingly, hands him a severance package in the form of several bags of gold, the reins to a genuinely massive horse, and an official pardon with the king’s signature and seal. Ren calls Jimmy dude in it.

“What are you going to call him?” Tango asks.

“Norman, I think,” Jimmy says. Tango nods approvingly.

“Norman. I like it!”

Tango is walking beside Jimmy with a pardon of his own, and even a small sack of gold as an apology for the bounty. No horse, though. He’s the main reason Jimmy hasn’t mounted and rode off into the horizon. Joel and Grian are closing out their own affairs, and then they’re planning on catching up to Jimmy and helping get him set up in the next biome. Ranching still doesn’t seem like the kind of life they’d enjoy, so he doubts they’ll stay. Jimmy will live on without them. He did in the castle, and the did on the road. They can survive apart. It's nice to know, still, that they'll come when he calls.

As for why they're trailing a day behind, Jimmy suspects the only real reason for that is because they’re giving him and Tango time to…he’s not sure what.

Jimmy says, “I guess you don’t have to escort me to the border, anymore.”

Tango kicks at some slush. “I guess not.”

“You could go back to your demolition crew. Or anywhere else you wanted.”

“Yup. Yup.”

The sun is rising. The sky is mostly pink. In the distance birds are singing.

“I was thinking—”

“If you wanted, you could—”

They look at each other. Jimmy laughs, and so does Tango, clear and loud.

“You first,” Tango says.

Jimmy summons his courage. He’s surprised at how easily he finds it.

“You could stay,” he says. Tango stops walking, and so does Jimmy.

“What?”

“You could stay at the ranch, I mean. You said you wanted to see the plains, so you’re still welcome to join. You could stay at the ranch. For a little while, or—or however long you’d like.”

Tango stares at him. Jimmy’s courage falters, but does not crumble. He starts rambling.

“You wouldn’t have to pay rent or anything. Just help me around the ranch sometimes, with the cows. And the warden. And when you want to go explore, you could, and the ranch could be like—like a homebase or something. I’d never expect you to get hurt for me. And you’d—you’d never expect me to get hurt for you.”

“I wouldn’t,” Tango says. “Never.”

“I know.” Jimmy’s throat is tight. “I know you wouldn’t.”

Tango takes a few deep breaths. He looks a little starstruck, which Jimmy wasn’t expecting, and is very sweet. With each one breath the flames in his hair and tail swell and ebb, swell and ebb, until they calm down with one firm exhale. Jimmy waits patiently.

Tango meets his eyes and clears his throat. “Yeah, yes, I’d like that. I’d really really like that. I was going to say the same thing, but you said it better. You’re really incredible, you know that?”

Jimmy kisses him. Quick, the corner of his mouth.

Tango looks starstruck again. “Wow.”

Jimmy spins to face his new horse and mess with the bridle. It nickers knowingly. “Ahem. Um. Are we both going to be able to fit, do you think?”

There’s a sound that might be Tango slapping his cheeks. “Only one way to find out!”

They do both fit, though it takes about ten minutes of flailing and sliding off the side and Norman probably laughing at them in horse. The whole thing is objectively humiliating. Jimmy doesn’t care a whit.

It’s full morning by the time they’re ready to start moving again. Tango’s arms come around Jimmy’s waist. His smile is sharp and crooked at his shoulder. “Ready, rancher?”

A thrill goes up Jimmy’s spine. “Born ready!” 

He gives Norman a little kick. They rocket into a gallop, and in under five minutes Jimmy is somehow the one tumbling off the side of the saddle.

Tango howls with laughter. He pulls Norman into a canter, then a trot, then a walk. It’s clear which of them have actually ridden before. “Oh man, I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Jimmy groans from the ground. “Maybe you should drive the horse.”

That sets Tango off again. “Sure, sure. I’ll drive the horse. Here, let me help you up.”

He leans down, offers his hand. Jimmy takes it.

“My hero,” he laughs. “My rancher.”

:

[anarchy-and-piglins]

hi yes hello i heard human!techno and nonhuman!everyone else and came running... whether it's osmp, space au, vampire au (always love rereading tasting your blood means i love you chapters if I forget something) i love this trope it's always so good.

Anyway! Human techno headcanons! I like to think that since a lot of the others living in the commune have claws, they sometimes accidentally nick techno with their claws occasionally (ie, they're really excited and grab his arm a little too tightly *cough tommy) and so he's got all these tiny little scars. And eventually someone notices and asks him about it, but techno doesn't want them to feel bad so he kinda stumbles/lies through the answer because he knows they genuinely mean no harm. Small angst but yk.

Now, say, the commune gets attacked. Some flee, others stay to fight. What's the best way to get the hybrids to stop fighting and draw the others out of hiding? Capture the soft fleshy human and use him as leverage, of course! Cue a small stab or sprain to techno in front of the commune folks to remind them how weak humans can be and how precarious the situation is. Cue the rescue team finding techno tired, hurt, and very reliant on their help to escape. Cue techno thinking of himself as a liability to the safety of the commune and, after his rescue, attempting to leave to keep them safe. (it doesn't work ofc, phil notices almost instantly that one of his fledglings friends is missing and tracks his down and reassures him of his value.)

I'm kinda surprised I haven't written any of these yet considering how much I rotate the trope in my brain but. high school. Oh well.

It's the best trope, the tastiest trope, MY MOST BELOVED TROPE!

The claw thing is so fun. Reminds me of people who have cats and are just covered in scratches all the time hehe. But it's great for a little bit of angst too. Any type of whump having to do with hurting a friend on accident is up my alley. And I can imagine that it's so easy to forget how vulnerable Techno is. Sure, some of the other hybrids have very specific weaknesses too but they seem easier to remember somehow - everybody knows Niki needs to be in water and everybody is automatically careful with Sneeg since he's so tiny. But for some reason with Techno it slips their minds (perhaps also because Techno tries very hard to seem like he doesn't have any weaknesses) that he's rather squishy and has no special powers or hybrid biology to protect himself.

I'd love to read a fic where one or multiple of the other members of the commune accidentally hurt Techno through their hybridness and get to feel really guilty. And obviously Techno would never hold it against them.

AND YES, somebody else using Techno against them is also very fun. I don't think Techno would much enjoy having it pointed out that he's the 'weak link'. He trains so much to overcompensate for all the abilities he's naturally lacking. But his family will knock some sense into him.

I'd eat up either idea really, these are wonderful!

[thebeautysurrounds]

I’ve been thinking a lot about how people’s reactions to certain queer shows and something I think we need to examine how we treat more ‘dark’ and ‘emotional’ shows versus more ‘happy’ shows in this case I’m gonna be talking about the “debate” between Young Royals and Heartstopper.

Firstly these shows exist in two different lanes, and draw in two different audiences and potential age ranges, in my opinion, Young Royals is for older teenagers (think juniors or seniors or someone who is about to graduate high school and is going into college) while Heartstopper is geared towards those who are just starting high school or in the middle of it and is in that transitional period of their lives. Obviously, if you are not in these age ranges you can still consume and enjoy these shows, But I want to discuss how people act like they both can’t exist and you can’t like both or both shows existing for a reason. I’ve never really been a fan of punching down or belittling queer media (unless it’s harmful) Queer media in all forms is still lacking (especially those mediums centering WLW relationships). That being said the debate of which show is better is honestly so tired.

For people who say Young Royals is so much better (don’t get me wrong it is an amazing show and by all means like whatever you want) but liking it more because it’s “darker and more realistic” compared to Heartstopper which is "much happier" and "unrealistic," To me is so disingenuous because firstly so what? campy shows that feature queer characters deserve to be unrealistic, What's wrong with being unrealistic? Queer media has been subject to the Burry Your Gays narrative for decades or extremely unhealthy tropes and storylines so what's so wrong with having storylines and shows that are unrealistic or extremely happy? (even though the themes in Heartstopper are realistic).

Have you thought about how that may be an intentional choice? Now bare with me here this may be my over-analytic brain at work but Heartstopper has more or less some of the same themes as Young Royals just shot in a very vibrant and colorful manner to showcase how happy and colorful young love is BUT if you actually have watched the show or read the graphic novels you would know the show and graphic novels cover some heavy themes.

SPOILERS AFTER THIS POINT……

I want you to keep the song Pumped up Kicks by Foster the People in mind throughout this...I have a point I promise. Heartstopper is shot in a very poppy colorful way and in my opinion, symbolizes how when you’re young and in love everything feels warm, colorful, and vibrant. While Young Royals doesn't utilize this cinematic style they do use some form of vibrancy to convey tone and emotion. In Young Royals many of the scenes featuring Simon and Willhem's 'good moments' feature the sun especially shining on Simon when Willie is looking at him or whenever they are just in each other's company, this is especially prominent in the last scenes of the last two episodes of season 3.

So while people's criticisms of Heartstopper can be warranted (not saying you can't dislike the show) the comments that it's just so bubbly and bright just aren't true. The last season of Heartstopper saw multiple characters go through traumatic situations and it has been building up that way from the very first scenes in the first season of the show (but for the sake of time I'm only going to discuss both main characters in the two shows) Charlie not only is still struggling with being outed but is also battling with an eating disorder, this is foreshadowed throughout the first two seasons leading up to its inevitable blatant reveal when he is at dinner with Nick and his family where Nick starts to piece together why he is never hungry, passed out on the Paris trip and never finishes his food, which leads his to eventually research the signs of an ED. Nick is also still figuring himself out when it comes to his Bisexuality, while also dealing with the feelings of, feeling abandoned by his father, and having to reckon with the fact his brother is not supportive and dismissive of his sexuality and relationship.

Now before I said keep Pumped Up Kicks in mind that's because while this song has an upbeat, catchy tempo the song actually has a really dark undertone and meaning. So while Heartstopper is shot in a very vibrant colorway most of its characters and content of the show deal with dark themes and it's not all just a happy love story, and if the script for the next season follows the graphic novel closely, then we will see the characters go through even more challenges which also falls inline with the "darker" more emotionally message of the show. So to end this so it doesn't become a dissertation, both shows more or less have the same themes they just exist in two different lanes, I don't know why exactly people are fighting for one to be more valid than the other. When both can exist and be impactful to both or each audience, more queer shows need to exist where the characters are just happy and in love and I need y'all to unpack why you view more doom and gloom (for a lack of a better word) queer shows or movies are more valid than ones where the characters are just happy and have relatively in some aspects great experience when it comes to young love and figuring out one's identity. Sepreatlty why do you want these characters to suffer to find love? Why do characters have to go through something traumatic for their identity to be more valid and for you to relate and want to root for it more versus the latter?

Anyway, this was longer than I intended it to be but I just had to get my thoughts out there. TL;DR: Heartstopper and Young Royals are two great shows and if you think one is better than the other cause it has darker themes you are missing the point or probably objectively missed the dark undertones of the show, and one isn't more valuable than the other.

[trishthepotato]

Hiiii I just wanted to say I love your Coach/Nick art SO MUCH !!!!!! It's always a delight to see aaaa

I also wanted you to know something- I have this headcanon that Coach can play a meaaannnn saxophone >:3c How do you think Nick would react? Saxophones can be very sexy I think

Hello!!!, thank you so much for enjoying my Coach/Nick drawings I'm so happy to hear it!! 😭❤️ (I also love your drawings too❤️)

And about your headcanon... it's interesting and I think Nick doesn't believe Coach when he told him he can play saxophone but when he prove it to Nick that he really can play the saxophone I think he will love Coach even more 👀

I even try to draw it but turns out to be silly 😂