#if it wasn’t the anxiety of trying to make friends among people who already had their own very well defined friend groups

[observethewalrus]

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[maxdibert]

How do you think Severus would relate to a child of his own, if he had one? What kind of father do you think he would be?

There are so many possible answers to this question because it would really depend on the context in which Snape became a father (before or after the War), his child’s personality, and, of course, what his partner would be like. But, let’s assume we’re talking about a post-War Snape in an AU, because honestly, I can’t imagine canon Severus being a father in any way—it would literally be suicidal. Having a child would not only endanger his mission as a spy but also give his enemies perfect leverage to use against him. And he’s already suffered too much in life to throw in that level of angst. So, starting from a scenario where there’s no war and Severus can focus on being both calm and depressed (because he’d still be depressed, especially if he no longer has a clear purpose keeping him going), I don’t think the idea of fatherhood would really thrill him at first. It’s not like he’s someone who’s ever thought of having children, or at least he ruled out the possibility long ago. If he had a partner who wanted kids, I think he’d agree, but with a terrifying sense of dread about fatherhood because 1) his parental role models are terrible, and he never had a functional upbringing, and 2) he’s never really liked kids. It probably wouldn’t occur to him that maybe the issue is that he doesn’t like other people’s kids, but his own would be different. That’s why I think his partner would be a fundamental factor in this—supporting him throughout the process and keeping him grounded about his own traumas.

That said, I imagine him as a strict but supportive father, one who sets rules and commands respect but without using violence or verbal attacks on his children. He’d especially try to spare them the awful childhood he endured with his own father. But I still see him as the kind of dad who has rules and expects them to be followed, the classic type who cares a lot about grades and school behavior (he was a teacher for 18 years, after all). He’d probably see certain grades as failures if they didn’t meet expectations. He’d likely be a bit awkward with affection, although he’d find his own ways to make his children feel loved, valued, and accepted. He’d be a present father but would struggle to be fully emotionally open, though he’d likely improve this over time and with effort.

I also see him preferring to have daughters, or at least finding it much easier to bond with a daughter. I’ve always thought that it’s simpler for Severus to relate to women (Lily was his first friend, and the other person he spent time with as a child was Petunia, also a girl. As much as he picked on Hermione, he wasn’t as harsh with her as he was with Harry, Neville, or Ron. He seemed to have a fairly close relationship with Narcissa, etc.). Basically, most of the men in his life have been abusers (his father, the Marauders, Dumbledore manipulating and blackmailing him, Voldemort...), so he’s more at ease, or maybe just more himself, when he’s around women. I can see him thinking that he might not fully understand “girl stuff,” but that it’s better than having a son who’s into Quidditch and facing the prospect of not knowing how to deal with a boy who represents all the typical “boy” interests and behaviors that Severus doesn’t really embody. He’d probably have some anxiety over this—something common among men who don’t fit into stereotypical norms associated with their own gender.

Still, whether he had a son or a daughter, he’d try to provide them with a functional and stable home, where there’s affection and respect, allowing them to grow up with the security he never had. I don’t see him as an “easy” father because he has too much baggage, but he’d be aware of that baggage and try to address it when he realizes he’s messed up. He wouldn’t do that for others, but he’d do it for his children.

[whynotshaveme]

Charity Isn't A Joke

By whynotshaveme

The annual county fair was in full swing, with laughter, music, and the clinking of game prizes filling the warm summer air. Brightly colored lights twinkled around the fairgrounds, casting a festive glow on the crowds that wandered from one attraction to the next. Among the various booths and stalls, one in particular drew a steady stream of attention—a charity head shave booth with a long line of men waiting to be shaved bald.

Kelsey, a teenage girl with flowing blonde hair, walked past the booth with her friends. Her long golden locks caught the attention of many in the crowd, wondering if she'd consider sacrificing her hair for charity. They had grown bored of just seeing men in the barber's chair.

As they approached the booth, one of Kelsey’s friends nudged her playfully. She noticed the stares. "Hey, Kels, why don’t you get in line? Give these rubes a show."

Kelsey rolled her eyes, laughing. "Yeah, right."

Her friends giggled, and another chimed in, "Come on, it would be hilarious! You wouldn't actually have to shave your head. You could just get in the line, take some pictures, and then back out before it’s your turn."

Kelsey smirked. It seemed harmless enough of a prank. "Alright, fine," she said with a grin. "I’ll get in line, but don’t think for a second I’m actually going through with it."

The crowd cheered as Kelsey joined the line, still smirking. As it moved forward, she watched as one person after another took their seat in the barber’s chair. The closer she got to the front, the more uneasy she began to feel. The barber was ruthless. Each head that left his chair left as bald as a cueball. She glanced back at her friends, who were still laughing and chatting, seemingly unaware of her growing anxiety.

When Kelsey was only a few people away from the chair, her unease turned into outright fear. Time to make my grand exit, she thought, before, this joke goes too far enough. She turned to step out of the line, but, as she did, she felt a strong hand clamp down on her shoulder.

"Where do you think you’re going, sweetheart?" a deep voice rumbled behind her.

Kelsey spun around to find herself face-to-face with a tall, broad-shouldered man. It was one of the men who had already been shaved and stuck around to volunteer. "Uh, sorry," Kelsey stammered, trying to laugh it off. "I wasn’t actually planning on shaving my head."

The man shook his head. "You’re in line now, and you’re staying in line."

Kelsey’s heart began to race. "No, really, I need to go. I can’t do this! I've been growing out my hair since I was 8!"

The man’s grip tightened, and his tone grew colder. "I don’t think you understand. You’re not leaving this line until you've had your turn in the chair."

Kelsey’s stomach churned with fear as she realized she was trapped. Her friends were too far away to help, and the crowd around the booth had thickened. There was no room for escape.

Before she knew it, the man was pushing her forward, forcing her towards the barber’s chair. "No, please!" Kelsey begged, her voice trembling. "I don’t want to do this!"

The crowd began to laugh and cheer, their voices cruel and mocking. "Too late to back out now, bitch!" one of them shouted. "Time for a haircut!"

Kelsey was eased into the chair by the waiting barber. He grabbed a cape, draped it over her shoulders, and secured it around her neck. "Looks like we’ve got a fussy one," the barber sneered, "Don’t worry, princess, I'll take care of that attitude along with your hair." Then he picked up his clippers.

"Please, don’t do this!" she cried, trying to pull away.

But the barber was having none of it. He held her in place by grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back. "Sit still," he growled.

Kelsey whimpered, her body trembling as the clippers were brought to her forehead. The barber drove them straight through the middle of her long, blonde hair as she squirmed and cried in his chair. The crowd erupting into cruel laughter and applause as her hair started to tumble to the ground. They were finally getting a good show.

"Look at her, she’s crying!" someone in the crowd jeered.

"She’ll be crying a lot more when she’s bald!" another shouted.

"Quit your squirming, girl!" the barber snapped, yanking her head to the side as he continued with the clippers. "You will just prolong your time in my chair!"

The crowd’s taunts grew louder, their laughter cruel and mocking as Kelsey’s hair fell to the ground in piles. Finally, the clippers fell silent, and she hoped it was over. Her cheeks burnt with shame as she became a public spectacle. But it wasn't over. The barber reached for a can of shaving cream.

"Can’t leave any stubble, now can we?" he sneered, lathering her head with the thick, white foam. "We need to make sure it’s nice and smooth."

Kelsey’s heart sank as she felt the cold cream being slathered over her head. The barber’s rough hands rubbed it in, coating every inch of her scalp. The crowd watched the teenaged beauty's continued humiliation eagerly.

"Please, stop," Kelsey whispered, her voice barely audible.

The barber ignored her, picking up a safety razor. "Hold still, or you’ll get cut," he warned, as he began to scrape the razor over her scalp.

When he finally finished shaving her, he rubbed her bald head roughly with a dirty white towel, used on everyone before her. Proclaiming her "makeover finally done", he smirked as he removed the cape, letting the remnants of her hair fall to the floor.

But the humiliation wasn’t over. When she tried to stand up, the barber grabbed her and bent her over his knee. "Oh no, you don’t," he growled, pulling down her shorts, "I promised you an attitude adjustment, and you're going to get one, missy."

The crowd cheered as he raised his hand and brought it down hard on her exposed backside, the sharp crack of the spank echoing through the air.

"That’s for making such a fuss!" he barked, delivering another stinging spank. "You’re not getting off that easy!"

Kelsey cried out in pain, her face burning with shame as the man spanked her in front of the jeering crowd. Each spank was harder than the last, her body trembling with humiliation. When he finally let her go, Kelsey collapsed on the ground, her body shaking with sobs and the crowd's cruel applause ringing in her ears.

"Serves her right!" someone shouted.

"Look at the princess now!" another taunted, "Shaved and then spanked."

One of Kelsey's friends emerged from the crowd to help her to her feet. From the guilty expression on her friend's face as they walked away, she knew that she wasn't the same girl anymore. As she felt her head, now as smooth as marble, tears dripped down her face. Her time in the chair had taught her that charity was no joke.

[enhyqenn]

❝ the cost of it all ❞ — TEASER

pairing. angel!ni-ki x demon!fem!reader

genre. short story, slow-burn, friends-to-enemies-to-lovers, fantasy, supernatural

summary. after nearly a decade of war, lord satan is forced to turn over a daughter as collateral for his crimes, paying a debt for the betrayal of his trust with the malakim. but as death seeps into the glass castle once again, reopening once-mended scars amongst the sky kingdom, allegiances begin to rub raw and old relationships flourish with the necessity for survival.

wc. 0.8k | taglist. open

note. posting this to come back from my year-long hiatus (lol) this is apart of @emeraldenha 's UNLIKELY collab! i highly recommend checking it out :)

playlist | read full version here

inhaling deeply, you sunk into your chair and smoothed down the imaginary wrinkles on your dress. fuck, you mentally cursed, itching to rub at your face. you had forgotten that the seven brothers each had a set of their own powers.

settling on fiddling with the chain around your neck, you observed your surroundings with a frown and met the stares of watching eyes.

“i don’t think glaring at them will cause them to burst into flames. your powers are nullified in here,” riki stated. his presence hadn’t startled you, and you had a small feeling that it was because some part of you knew he would show at the absence of his father.

resting your chin on a hand, you merely said, “i’m aware.”

he took the seat to your right. “then why do you look like you’re trying to light everyone in this room on fire?”

“because,” you started, tilting your head to look at him, “it’s fun. i like watching as they squirm and writhe. it makes me feel more powerful than i am.”

riki’s brows raised as he crossed an ankle over his knee. “we’re the only two people in this room dressed in black. people stare at us as we walk past. shouldn’t that make you feel powerful enough?”

“no,” you scoffed, letting your hand fall back to your side as you stared at him. “my definition of power seems to be very different from yours, nishimura.”

“it was always different,” riki said smoothly.

ouch.

mouth drawn in a tight line, you kissed your teeth, gaze sliding from him to the archangel now standing on the dais. seven identical thrones accompanied the king’s, the new seats all filled except one.

the crowd grew silent as someone tapped a spoon against a wine glass.

“greetings,” the king said with a sickening smile, his wings extended behind him in a subtle display of power. “oh, how i have waited for this moment, to welcome you all here to the castle on the occasion of good news.”

good news? you thought, eyes flashing to riki. his face heeded no information on whether he knew what this was about or not.

the king continued, his white hair shining under the chandelier light, making it appear silver. “here, in this ballroom, we have a very special guest among us. now, she has already made her appearance through an array of deviant actions, but i think her company here could bring us great benefit, wouldn’t you all agree?”

if every person in the room wasn’t already staring at you post entrance, they definitely were now.

your throat closed up at the sudden urge to vomit all over the tile flooring, and you swallowed down lingering anxiety as you stared at the king. you were almost certain that even though the wards around the room nullified your powers, your irises had turned a dark shade of red.

the monarch up front continued to talk, but the words started to slur together as blood thrummed in your ears. this is bad, you thought, forcing yourself to remain dormant in your chair. sudden applause erupted in the room, and someone grabbed your shoulder.

“what?” you heard yourself snap, eyes flicking to riki, who was now getting to his feet.

he nodded toward his father, dark hair falling past his ears, as his mouth curved into an amused smirk. he extended a hand. “dad requires your presence.”

blinking up at him, your mind shadowed with a haze as you stood slowly, ignoring his offered palm. squaring your shoulders, heels clacking on the marble with each step, you weaved through the crowd—riki right behind you—and forced your face to become unreadable. all eyes were on you, and while it wasn’t necessarily a foreign concept, you felt small. like a child hesitantly approaching its furious father.

“ah, there she is,” the king said, watching with a smile that made your stomach twist in on itself. “i’m happy you’re here…and so is everyone else.” he took your arm, turning you to face the crowd he addressed (though not before shooting a dirty look toward riki, sending the black-winged angel to his designated throne).

gulping, you stared at the large group of angels, some with and without wings; of individuals that called this place their home. the idea of people actually being happy here made your stomach knot.

the king continued to speak, it was white noise in your ears, his speech muffled. you continued to blankly stare down the crowd, focus landing on a pocket of empty space, not daring to meet any person’s gaze. you thought it better that you ignore them, even with all of their attention zoned in on your stilled figure.

“...and my sons will oversee her training and missions, making sure that she understands and complies with our rules.” the king moved his hand to your back, and you hoped to hell that you didn’t visibly flinch.

your life now consisted of being the new personal assassin to an archangel, and if you were to keep the impression you strived for, no weakness could be displayed. not now and not ever.

© enhyqenn 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

[atwooozi]

Almost Perfect (Sebastian x Fem!Farmer) Chapter 2: Hills and Valleys

Warnings: Slow burn, personal struggles, anxiety, depression, eventual smut

Summary: As Angeline settles into her cabin, the town's residents buzz with curiosity about the new farmer. Among them, Sebastian reluctantly agrees to meet Angeline, pushed by his friends who see her as a potential addition to their circle. Despite his initial resistance, Sebastian finds himself intrigued by the idea of a new acquaintance, even as he battles with his desire for solitude.

A/N: This is the first appearance of our farmer Angeline. I hope any person that decides to read this likes her as a character. I'm still trying to flesh her out as I put this together. I'm always afraid of making characters either too boring or just too perfect, and I personally dislike when characters are like suffering immensely but somehow fine anyway? I guess what I'm trying to say is that I want her to seem real.

READ ON AO3

Chapter 2: Hills and Valleys

Winter 28

Angeline was quickly stuffing things into her duffle bag, cursing at herself for waiting til the last minute to get all her stuff together. Normally, she would give herself some breathing room and would pack a few days before, but Joja Corp squeezed her for every minute she had before she physically had to leave for Pelican Town. She couldn’t complain, she needed the money after all since she was breaking her lease and she needed some emergency repairs to make the farm inhabitable. 

Thinking about the farm being in complete disarray left Angeline feeling a bit dizzy. What if her dad was right and the farm was more than she was able to handle? When grandpa was still healthy he had people he hired to help maintain the land, but now it would just be her. She got dizzy if she stood up too fast. If worse came to worse she could always just sell the land, but she wasn’t sure if she could live with the guilt of doing that to her grandpa’s land. Sure he gave it to her, but still, it felt more like his than hers.  

Nope. None of that mattered. Angeline tried to stop the doom spiral. She did not have time for this. She needed to get out of the city. Grandpa loved Pelican Town, the way he spoke about it made it seem like everything Angeline was missing: fresh air, slow pace, a community. 

She had friends but they weren’t there for her. If she wanted to go out for dinner, sure, but they weren’t there for her in a way she needed. They were friends of convenience. If Angeline needed a shoulder to cry on then it was like they never existed. She understood, but it didn’t make her feel any less lonely. 

 She had finished packing. Mostly clothes, some pictures, and letters she received from her grandpa before he passed. She felt tired all of a sudden. When she looked at the clock on her phone it read 8:40. It was still early by city standards, but mentally Angeline was already done for the day. 

~*~

Spring 1

Angeline took her sorry self to the bus station at 5:30 so she wouldn’t have to catch the next bus that was scheduled 4 hours from now. The bus arrived at 6 and she sat by herself towards the front. She felt nervous it didn’t really hit here fully until last night but she was leaving everything that she knew. It was too late to turn back. She had quit Joja and she broke her lease so she had no other choice but to leave for Pelican Town now. 

She closed her eyes and rested her head on the window. She figured sleeping would be better than worrying until she got there, after all it was a 4 hour ride. 

~~~ 3 hours and 3 minutes later ~~~

Angeline woke up, she looked over and a man across the aisle was rambling. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and sat up straight. 

“Where did you say you were heading?” The random man asked. 

“I didn’t.” Who was this guy? Was he talking to her while she was sleeping? Did he even know she was asleep?

“Well if not Grampleton then it must be Pelican Town or the valley as most people call it.” 

Angeline groaned internally. She prayed to Yoba that this guy was not getting off at Pelican Town. Zuzu had weirdos but this guy was weird even for Zuzu standards. He was wearing flip flops on a bus for Yoba’s sake!  

“Anyway, I had friends go to the valley for work, but those mines, man.” The guy whistled, “Some creepy shit in there, so everyone is heading to Grampleton for work.” Angeline did her best to ignore him. Creepy stuff in the mines? Clearly she wasn’t that great at ignoring everything he said. What exactly was going on in Pelican Town? Grandpa never said anything like that. Maybe if he did she wouldn’t have made the big move out there. 

“Yeah, like I was saying my girlfriend is pregnant and is living up state now.” The man rambled. 

Angeline frowned, “What? Why aren’t you with her?” Crap, so much for ignoring the guy.

The guy thought for a second and shrugged. He got up when the bus came to a complete stop. “Good luck in the valley lady.” The guy waved as he hopped off at his stop. 

Angeline checked her phone once the man left the bus, the clock read 9:15. It would be just a bit more and her new life would start. 

~~~

Last call. It was time to get off the bus. Angeline gathered her things and stepped off the bus only struggling a little to get her things out the doors before they closed on her. A red headed woman was waiting for her to sort out her bag situation and smiled. “Hey Kiddo! I’m Robin, welcome to the valley! How was the ride?” So people did actually call it the valley. Maybe that weirdo wasn’t completely full of shit. 

Angeline gave a shy smile and went to wave but was pulled into a tight hug. Robin smelled like pine and fresh linen. “The ride was fine. I’m just a little stiff from sitting for so long.” 

“Well let me show you the farm and get you settled.” Robin said as she took one of Angeline’s bags and started walking south. 

Angeline hurried behind Robin and was surprised at how quick the trek from the bus stop was to the farm. “This is it.” Robin said as they stopped in front of the house– well, a cabin really. Angeline looked around and felt her heart sink to her stomach. All this work seemed to be neverending. The land was sprawling and while it was beautiful it was vast and full of tall weeds, rocks, branches, and was that a boulder? Angeline wanted to chase after the bus.

“The house– well, the cabin.” Robin interrupted Angeline’s thoughts, keeping her from actually sprinting in the direction they came from. “I did what I could and luckily it doesn’t rain too much during the spring, but if the roof starts leaking let me know.” 

“Robin, I hope you’re not scaring the new farmer.” An older man called. Angeline assumed this was the man she had been speaking to, Mayor Lewis. He looked the same way that he sounded. Older, a bit stern, but kind overall. She found his mustache and flat cap to be cute, very stereotypical old man vibes. 

Robin gave a faux offended scoff. “I would never. I was just going to tell our new friend that if she needed any work done on the farm that I’d be happy to help out.” 

“I don’t know…” Lewis teased as he played with the end of his mustache, “Sounds like you might be trying to shake down the farmer for money to me.” 

Lewis turned his attention to Angeline. “This is from some of the people in town.” Lewis said as he held out a basket to Angeline before Robin could start protesting. It had some seeds, fruit, cheese, and fishing tackle. “To help you get started.”

“This is so nice.” A genuine smile spread across Angeline’s features, causing her dimples to show. The anxiety she was feeling had started to waver. “Thank you so much.” 

“You don’t need to thank us. We’re a family here. We want you to do well, Angeline.” Lewis smiled warmly. 

The three turned to look toward the farmhouse or cabin depending on who you asked. “Well, we should get going. You’re probably tired and need to get yourself unpacked.” Lewis said and turned to leave.

Robin nodded “Oh before we go! Most of the town gets together at the saloon on Fridays stop by if you have time, okay?” 

Angeline nodded and waved the two off. Once they left she looked over at the farm again and sighed her shoulders slumping. This was going to be a lot of work.       

~*~  

“So I met the new farmer.” Robin said as she placed a healthy serving of spaghetti on her plate. 

“Oh?” Demetrius asked as he served himself and Maru.

Robin nodded as she filled Sebastian’s plate for him as he took a seat. “Her name is Angeline and–” 

Sebastian’s phone started to ring and Demetrius shot him a disapproving look. Sebastian mumbled a sorry and went to his room. He would rather go hungry than be lectured by Demetrius about something so trivial as his phone ringing at the dinner table. Before he could even get out a hello Sam was already shouting. 

“DUUUUDE.” 

“What?” Sebastian sighed as he held his phone away from his ear. 

“The farmer” Sam seemed like he was out of breath, “She’s not an old man! She’s like cute?!”

Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose. This damn farmer was already causing so much trouble and they had just gotten here. “That’s great?” 

“I told her that had to come play pool with us on Friday.” 

Sebastian groaned. Was nothing sacred anymore? “Why?”

“Because she’s cute and she’s new and like…why not?” Sam reasoned. Very solid reasoning Sam. How could Sebastian argue with that? It was bad enough that Victor started to intrude on their hangouts too. Well that wasn’t completely true. Victor mostly just played Junimo cart in the same room, but it made Sebastian feel less comfortable he didn’t need another person intruding in his space.  

“I don’t really want new friends Sam.” 

“I know but like what about me and Abby?” Sam frowned, “If you’re not going to be here we need like a buffer.” 

Sebastian went silent for a moment. He wanted to argue but Sam was right. If he was leaving he couldn’t just leave Abby and Sam with each other. They were his friends not really each other. “Yeah fine, just don’t expect much from me, okay?” 

“Awesome!” Sam cheered. Sebastian could visualize Sam jumping up and down from his excitement. “It’ll be fun. She seems nice but if you’re not feeling it you can just dip early, no hard feelings.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Sebastian nodded and said his goodbyes to Sam before hanging up. He looked at his phone with a frown. Friday.

[eldritchaccident]

Timing: Current Location: The Bizarre Feat: @vanoincidence & @eldritchaccident Warnings: None! Summary: Van wanders into the bizarre by accident and runs into Teddy!

Van wasn’t sure how she’d stumbled upon the market, and it was obvious by the looks on the faces of those who surrounded her. She felt severely out of place, and she looked it, too. She wrapped her arms around herself, keeping her head low. One wrong step, and the bright blinking arches had been staring at her. Before she could think about retreating, she was being carried forward by her own ill-suited curiosity. She’d only have herself to blame if things went south. 

However, the further she got into the market, the less people seemed to notice her. She noticed everything, though. There were animals of all kinds– some she’d never seen before, the kinds that she felt as though she could only pull from nightmares, and books among books. It dawned on her then, that maybe this was a dream, too. Or that somehow in an attempt to find a way to get rid of her magic, she had stumbled upon the answer. 

“Miss, why don’t you come over here? Take a look at these rings. I can read your mind, you’re looking for something, aren’t you?” The voice caught Van by surprise, because a part of her felt as though it were in her head. She turned around to see the owner of said voice staring her down, a grin revealing a gap toothed smile. “Hello, how can I help you?” But it was a different voice, wasn’t it? Van paused at the stall, looking over the jewelry. 

It felt… off, in a way. Her anxiety flared as it always did, and she looked around them nervously. “Um, I don’t … think I can afford any of this, actually. I make pizza money.” 

—

Magic. Theodore Jones was magic. Had magic. Used it! Not demon magic, real, honest to goodness, human magic. The bright teal display was a shocking revelation. No doubts about it. Another caster confirmed. Immutable. What Teds didn't understand was how. Comparatively, the demonic rituals were so different they couldn't even properly judge one against the other. Weaving magic before felt like just that, weaving. Taking pieces that were already there, altering the existing fabric to suit their needs. It was a process, it often felt like hard labor. Like they were physically lifting and bending reality. A damn intense workout. 

But this? The explosion of feeling, the way it poured through their veins? Alight, electric. Teddy had tried to conjure it immediately after getting home. They kept trying old methods, old rituals, to some effect, but not always the ones they wanted. They needed insight. Needed a focus they couldn't quite muster for themself. So, of course, it was off to the markets. The bizarre bazaar. A home of several friends, a bunch of contacts, and more than a few people who hated Teddy and/or their father. 

A disguise was in order. 

Far more plain clothes than they would usually go for as well as an old silk scarf. Expertly donned to cover up most of their face and more importantly their scars. A pair of sunglasses too. Something Audrey Hepburn would have been proud of. Honestly not too out of place around the patrons of the market. The people here could appreciate discretion. 

Among mountains of miscellaneous magic materials and such, Teddy found themself particularly attracted to a set of gemstone earrings. Sapphire maybe? They weren't the master appraiser their father was, but they'd picked up a discerning eye over the years. Perks of a parentage in purchasing paranormal paraphernalia. Leviathan had pretty much any creature land or sea beat on that front, even optimistic underwater princesses with bright red hair and a concerningly close relationship to crabs and clams. 

The great beast’s ward was just about to pick out the simple charm and inquire when the owner started to speak up. Not at Teddy though, at– oh shit. The kid. From the park? What was her name again? Didn't matter half as much as the hungry look in the seller's eye, or the way Teddy knew this particular stall to take…esoteric payment rather than money. Maybe your ability to see the color purple. Maybe the memory of your first kiss. Things that were far more powerful than people realized, things they think they wouldn't miss until it was far too late. 

“Sis, you know your birthday is coming up.” Teddy strode over, throwing an arm around the younger girl's shoulder and hoping she'd recognize them. (The shop owner definitely did. Maybe they could use that to their advantage.) They hoped that she'd understand that poking around a place like this was dangerous in the same way screaming gossip in the park might've been. Maybe moreso. You could quite literally lose yourself amongst the market stalls. But losing composure was like the first step to falling in a den of hungry spiders. All ready to knit you into their webs, truss you up and eat you for dinner. 

“Why don't you let me get you something, kiddo. Save all that pizza money for more shrimps.” Van. That was her name. Same kid that was arguing with Emilio. Hilarious one. Ten outta ten style. “Sound good?” Please, Teddy thought as loud as they could, knowing the younger caster couldn't possibly hear, please go along with this. 

—

Van’s neck nearly fell off the bone with the swiftness in which she looked at her newly arrived company. She opened her mouth to tell her that he mistook her for somebody else, up until she recognized them. From the park– the gossip, the way the transmutation had melted into the ground, the look on their face as she ran away… 

She dropped her gaze down to her hands, knowing that if she looked the stall vendor in the eye, he’d be able to tell this was all a lie. She didn’t think she looked like him, but what did this person know? Family came in all shapes and sizes, right? Van nodded, “um, yeah– in a month.” She cleared her throat, gaze sliding over the number of trinkets that covered the table. Some were desirable, some not so much. 

He remembered the shrimps, from online. Teddy, Van remembered now. She’d seen them flaunting their ability to spin any conversation around on just about anyone who’d listen. Maybe they intended to do the same for the vendor. 

She nodded quickly, the crick in her neck absent as she finally dared to look at the vendor. “Different um… moms.” She gave him a nervous smile before tugging the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands, fists now balled up to keep the fabric in place. “Maybe we should look around a little more? There were like, a ton of stalls I haven’t looked at yet.” Most of which were far too… busy for her to think of looking over– tentacles, bottles of things with eyes. She was in the wrong place, this place wasn’t for her and she knew it. She worried her lower lip between her teeth before motioning Teddy to follow her. “Um, thank you.” Van whispered under her breath as they headed in the opposite direction. The last time they’d run into each other, she’d been so overwhelmed with what they’d shown her that now– with the shrimps in mind, all she could feel was gratitude. 

— 

Good. Good. She played along. Teddy’s heart relaxed just a little. Might not be the end of the world, but certainly a situation the kid didn't deserve to be put in. Not while she looked so lost. Both now, and back in that park. Van had a resilience to her, but if Teddy had to guess, it seemed like the kind you built around yourself by force. Out of necessity. They didn't know anything about her, not really. She worked at the pizza place, she was some kind of caster. And yet seeing magic was jarring and stressful for her. 

Maybe her introduction to the subject was traumatizing. They didn't know. Probably wouldn't learn either, not any time soon. Teddy was thankful for the upbringing they had. The way they could navigate a crazy place like the bizarre with relative ease. Leviathan had been an incredible teacher, and they were all too eager to soak in all they could. Just a shame that the way they had been taught didn't translate to their new type of magic. 

“Eh, no biggie. So what kind of things are ya looking for, for your birthday?” Teddy ushered the both of them farther from the booth, all while scanning for something they'd find useful or interesting. Even out of earshot, it was probably worth it to keep up the charade. What they wanted to ask was why she was here. Was there actually something she needed or was it an accident? 

—

“Oh! Uh… maybe… something shiny.” Her birthday was soon, but it wasn’t like she was trying to find something here for it. If anything, she’d go online and look up figurines of Kafka and whine over the prices. She stuck her hands into the pockets of her jacket and looked around, still taken aback by the sheer amount of oddities. How had she ended up here? Van glanced over her shoulder, immediately noticing that the vendor they’d just spoken to was now involved in what looked like a situational haggle with another customer. 

Van looked over at Teddy with a grateful smile laced with uncertainty. “I don’t know how I ended up here.” She forced herself to keep her gaze on the person ahead of her for the sake of not drawing too much attention to herself. Though, if anyone could read minds here, they’d know she was out of her depth. 

“I was just walking, and then…” She motioned around them, still too afraid to outstretch her hand too far as if something might jump from one of the tables and devour it. Van stuck her hand back into her pocket for safe keeping. “Do you come here a lot? The way you talked to that guy, it was like, super natural.” That was ironic, all things considered– everything about this was supernatural. “I don’t know if I’m like, supposed to be here.” 

—

Something shiny. Fair enough. Teddy themself was a connoisseur of all things glitz and glam.  When the mood struck at least. Even if it was part of the ruse, maybe they could find something for the kid before finding their exit. Having company on a shopping day was equal parts exciting and a little nerve wracking. Especially because Van didn't know about this place. As they had suspected. 

Around them, webs of people stretched far and wide. The further into the markets, the less folks would care for glamours, for appearing human. But here, on what could be considered the ‘main street’ the vendors were odd, sure, but only so much as ones you might find at a very eclectic art faire. It was the false sense of security that lured most victims in. Deals they couldn't quite keep up with, or things they didn't realize they'd miss so much. There were fortunes to be made too, if you knew where to look. 

“Ah, that kind of thing happens a lot. Places like this kind of find you. Usually when you need something from it, or well…” If it was hungry. Teds wasn't sure they wanted to ascribe sentience to the endless collection of shops and stores, but it did have a way of making you feel… watched. Desired, but in the way a coyote might look at an injured baby bunny. “This isn't the only market like this, but I think this one is sort of… local? To Wicked's Rest?” Teddy wasn't completely sure. Honestly if every version they'd ever been to with their father had been one massive sprawling liminal space that showed up out of nowhere, they wouldn't be surprised. They were always so fascinated by it when they were young. Still, they remembered the tight (metaphorical) leash the Leviathan kept on them. How hesitant it was to take them in the first place. Some of that worry must have passed down. Teddy couldn't help but feel it when they looked at the kid, when they thought of the darker sides of this place. 

“Come here as often as I need to. Try not to make a habit. There's actually some… really useful stuff around.” Ah, yes. Just a few booths away something piqued the ex-demon's interest. Teddy nodded their head towards the brightly colored tent, and towards the myriads of magical focuses housed inside. “Like these pretty babies.” 

—

“I don’t think I need anything from here.” In fact, wasn’t it the opposite? Van wanted so desperately to get rid of her magic– it didn’t serve her, and in its worst moments, only acted as a reminder of everything that’d gone wrong in her life. She wasn’t about to unload that on Teddy, though. She’d already freaked out on them once before, and if things went wrong here, there’d be a second time, too. Van felt herself bristle as eyes followed herself and Teddy as they continued down the pathway of the main vendors. Would they be able to tell? She looked at Teddy out of the corner of her eye, deciding that maybe not, considering the fact that she had no clue they’d been magically inclined upon meeting them. She thought about the markings in the ground, how they had burned with light. “Local? I’ve never even seen it before.” Wasn’t that sort of the point, though? If this place were out in the Common, she was sure there’d be articles day and night about the disruptive nature of its inhabitants. 

Useful stuff. Like what, Van wanted to ask– what could possibly be useful here and not harmful? Maybe Teddy loved their magic. Maybe they were secure in it– she couldn’t relate, and again, she had to remind herself that it wasn’t their problem. Her gaze followed the way in which they’d pointed and Van’s brows furrowed. “Did you just call those babies? What are you, Linda Belcher?” Actually, that sort of made sense the longer that she looked at them. “Forget I asked.” She cleared her throat and followed after them, knowing that her only way out might be by sticking to their side. She wasn’t sure why she’d found inherent trust in them, as it’d been the opposite that day when she’d been spilling lies all over the common, but she didn’t figure she had any other choice, not now at least. “What is this?” She asked, interest piqued at one of the items on a nearby table. It was a ring made of silver with a simple engraving on the side. Her mother’s voice rang through her head as she stared at it, don’t touch– just look. 

—

“Guess it’s the other thing then.” Teddy shrugged, not really showing the worry that sat just beneath their skin. Instinctively maybe, if they somehow even had instincts for this, they moved closer to Van. Hovering an arm behind her as their eyes found the proprietor of this stall. Making sure it was someone they could trust, or at least know they wouldn’t be getting fucked over by. Hard to say though, Teddy had seen the face once, but never met them. 

Instead, their attention returned to the kid, a half cocked grin sitting beneath their furrowed brows. “Okay first of all, I’m going to take that as a compliment. Linda is a goddess.” Teddy snorted, finding some real joy for the first time today. “And B. These are foci.” All sorts. Everything from enchanted jewelry to literal wands. Though, Leviathan always said those were a crock of hooey. It was better to have something you wore always. Something you could attune to, let it attune to you right back. 

“Essentially they’re… magic training wheels. Casters have been using these forever. I think it’s maybe where the idea of a wizard with a pointy stick or staff comes from. Funnily enough, they’re more for kids than grizzled old bearded men.” Teddy hadn’t thought about foci since they were a kid. When demon magic began to burgeon within them, when it wasn’t always something they could wield. Now they knew it was because the tether between them and their father was an open siphon. They had far too much access, needed the control. A valve. A focus. 

—

“Foci.” The word didn’t sit right on her tongue, mostly because she had no idea what it meant. Van thought about focaccia bread, but nothing here struck a resemblance. As they went on to explain, discomfort washed over Van. This was all too real, and even though she had since accepted that having magic was a part of her, it didn’t mean she was okay with it. It’d done more harm than good, and what was the point in having magic if she couldn’t end up the protagonist of her own story? Instead, she was some half-assed villain, written by an author to have the protagonist point and laugh at. 

“You mean those don’t actually exist? The blue hats with stars, or whatever…?” That was a bit of a disappointment, but the magic that she’d been exposed to– that ran through her like a second soul, it was nothing like what she’d seen in media. It was far more dangerous than that. It had killed people. 

“So this ring is like that? Instead of a wand?” She stepped closer, mildly interested in the way it glinted beneath the lighting of the tent. She stared at it for a long while before remembering she was in the company of somebody else– somebody who had far more knowledge than her. “I’m…” She cleared her throat, frustrated by her inability to just say things straight without fumbling over them. “I’m not sure what I’m doing here. Why’d you bring us into this one?”

— 

“Mhmm. Kinda like in D&D, that's a little closer I guess. Though it's pretty debatable. Maybe…. Think of it as a prism?” Teddy mused aloud, rolling over definitions and metaphors in their mind until they settled on a more effective means of explanation. “Or like… a sieve. Helps you hold back magic so too much doesn't get through. In doing so, it sorta teaches you what comes from where. How it feels inside, how it's supposed to feel. Makes it so you can learn how your magic works.” Satisfied, the flamboyant ex-demon nodded. Grinned. 

There was a gleam to her gaze that paused them though, made Teddy slow their roll and realize that maybe the way they'd told it, it sounded like Teddy was talking about it on her behalf. And while, sure, if she did have untapped, untrained magic the foci would be incredibly helpful. But they were– shoot. Better clarify. They didn't want the kid thinking that they were being talked down to. Especially with the training wheels comment. Nothing in the world could make a kid turn from help faster than some strange adult insisting they needed it. 

“I had a big change recently.” They admitted. Vague still, but mostly because you never really knew who was listening in. “My uh– source. Where my magic comes from. It's different than what it used to be. Majorly. I'm still getting used to it. Feels different. I can't control it yet. I came here because I could use one of these. Figured we could find the exit once I grabbed what I came for, right?” Teddy offered a somewhat self-deprecating smile and a shrug. “But hey, already said I'd get you a birthday gift. Ain't a liar, and– there's a lot of neat shit around, y’know?” 

— 

Van knew D&D. She could piece together what Teddy was trying to say about the objects ahead of them by translating them into the terms she’d heard crackled over a few dozen discord calls. It was easy, removing herself from the equation��� pretending it was all fantastical. It was kind of fucked up, she thought, that for somebody who’d been so immersed in world building, the world around her was freaking her the fuck out. She could only think about what her friends in Portland would think if they could see her now. She stared at the silver ring she’d noticed first, tracing the etchings of flowers and ivy with her gaze. 

The way that Teddy described things, it made it make sense. Then again, she hadn’t really been seeking out many other magic users, at least, aside from Milo, and he had admitted that his own magic was on the fritz. “So it’s like a tamagotchi, only not, and like, helpful.” That was the best way she could wrap her mind around it, and maybe that’d go over Teddy’s head. Van listened to them as they went on to explain that they’d come into a different kind of magic– the kind that was hard to control. 

Her gaze snapped back up to meet theirs. “But you look like you have your shit together.” She wasn’t lying there. Well, except for the whole flirting with Emilio online thing, Teddy seemed like he was put together in the way that she thought most adults were. “I–” She looked back towards the ring, slightly drawn to it. She had no clue how much it was, and she couldn’t expect Teddy to pay for it, not when their only means of likeness was boiled down to the fact that they both had uncontrollable magic. “Do you melt things, too? Open portals?” She bit down onto the inside of her cheek, surprised by the way she’d asked the question so freely. Maybe she really was growing up. She looked back to them, tugging on their sleeve. “I don’t mean to like, be a super open book or whatever, but I’m like, afraid all of the time about what my magic can do, so you’re telling me this would help? Could it… get rid of it? Keep it away for good if I don’t take it off?” She felt a little bad about not consoling them over the way they’d undergone change, but her mind was at warp speeds– if there was a way to stifle her magic, then she needed to know. 

— 

Behind closed lips, Teddy’s tongue ran along the edges of their teeth. Counting each, feeling the far too blunt edges, missing the way they could reshape them into something else. Something they saw as better. Van was trying to change herself. Van had magic and was afraid of it. The sudden shock Ted’s magical awakening inspired wasn’t one of fear. It didn’t really dawn on them that it could be something someone would even be afraid of. Still, that didn’t mean they couldn’t hold compassion for the young adult. They could see the way it weighed on her. See how it hooked into her mind and dragged her to some aching past. Something she felt guilty about. 

Teddy could relate to that. 

They’d seen that look a thousand times, maybe more. On Emilio, on Wynne, Arden, Teagan. On themself. It wasn’t one that had ever been solved by cutting off a piece of themself. Wasn’t something that would get better if Van stopped being magical. 

“Mmmn. Not exactly a tamagotchi.” They had, in fact, gone to school in the 90���s. “That implies you’d have to take care of it in some way. If you got that ring, it would… stop the unexpected stuff. It’d also make anything you do intentionally a bit less powerful. If anything it’s like… training weights? Is Naruto still a thing you guys watch? Dragon Ball Z?” Sometimes the motels they stayed at only had a few channels. Teddy had spent many nights watching a bit too much toonami while Leviathan went off to do… Leviathan things.

“That’s the secret, Junebug. There’s no such thing as someone who ‘has it all together’, if they tell you they do, they’re lying, or they want to sell you something.” With a small motion, the ex-demon caught the attention of the shopkeeper. Speaking in a language it was highly unlikely the younger woman would understand. Teddy got lucky.  Once they heard his voice, they realized quickly that they knew  the old man. A client of Levi’s. One the great beast had left with more favors owed to it than it owed to him. The conversation was short, to the point, and actually pretty pleasant. Teddy didn’t have to haggle much, only had to retrieve something from storage on a different day. Easy peasy. The demon running the booth even threw in some extras. 

Teddy picked up the ring she’d been eying, placed it carefully in her palm then turned back to pick out the piece they’d been drawn to, a woven braided bracelet whose fibers seemed to be spun from pure gold. Simple in design, but beautiful in its own right. The ‘extras’ of course, were tidbits of gossip for Gabagool. With the gift exchanged, Teddy didn’t wait for an answer, or a thank you or anything like that. There would be plenty of time to talk without prying eyes and ears. They simply grinned, and guided the younger caster through the mess of the market and out onto familiar streets. Downtown. In front of an old tea shop and a newer pizza place. 

“There… are ways.” Teddy admitted, after a long silent walk. “You can get rid of it. But– It’s never–. Magic is a part of you. Good or bad. Taking it away would leave you empty. Worse than empty.” They swallowed, remembering the hollow they found themself in the night of the ritual. How they felt worse than death. “I don’t know your story. Don’t know how magic fucked shit up for you, but I do know that any magic can be used for good, if you accept it and learn to control it. Hell, even demons can be good guys.” 

—

Van blinked at Teddy, surprised they knew what both Naruto and Dragon Ball Z were. She was half-tempted to tell them that they were way too cool to be dating Emilio, but figured that wouldn’t win her any favors. Her issue with Emilio had nothing to do with Teddy and she had to accept that her maybe-magic-mentor would be linked to the stinky man himself. Not only that, but her two best friends were also linked to him. That was the funny thing about being linked to people– you were always linked to the bad ones, too. Though, she couldn’t completely see Emilio as bad. Just… really annoying! 

But Teddy wasn’t annoying. He was nice, respectful, and kind. Most of all, that was what Van saw most. Despite her freak out a couple of months ago and the way she held onto the notion that magic was bad, they continued to explain it to her in a way that would make her understand. Teddy reminded her a little bit of Jade. “I think… I see what you’re saying,” Van said finally, throat dry. 

She wanted to believe in what Teddy had to say, if not for herself, then for the sake of people she might be able to save from being inflicted with her magic. Van’s expression twisted at the junebug nickname, but she didn’t try to sway from it. Instead, she ogled as Teddy motioned for the shopkeeper to come over. The weight of the ring in her palm felt far heavier than what it was made up of in actuality. It held the determination Teddy held, she realized. She stared down at it, suddenly feeling very small. “You really– I don’t know how I’m going to pay you back for this.” Van was almost too afraid to put it on, and because of that, she stuffed it into her pocket. Would this ring really save her from herself?

As they walked, she listened– forced to see the world through their point of view. It was important for her to do so, or else she might die for the cause of losing everything. Van inhaled sharply. “That’s… what I’ve heard, but I still…” She shrugged, “feel like it’s better that way, to feel empty than to accidentally hurt somebody.” She stuck her hand into her pocket and rotated the ring around. Her gaze cut to Teddy as they explained even demons could be good guys. What did Teddy know of demons? Maybe that was a story for another time, because she hadn’t realized they’d effectively walked out of the market. She whirled around, surprised by the normalcy that surrounded them. “What– when did–” She looked over at them, wide-eyed. “This place is like, so weird.” She’d been living here all her life, and still, it never got any easier– especially now that she’d opened her eyes to it all. “Teddy, I… thank you, for this.” She motioned towards her pocket, “and for the talk and stuff.” She gave them a small smile of appreciation, an awkward air falling over her. Maybe it was easier to pretend she’d absorbed everything they had said; make them less likely to worry. The less people who worried, the better. 

—

“Hey, no need to pay me back. Just… pay it forward. If you see a chance to help someone, take it, y’know?” One thing Teddy had always been bad at was actually seeking reprisal for… anything. Whims dictated their every move, some had rationalization, but if they were being honest most of that came after. Justification found between the crumbs of forethought that managed to sneak in before impulse had its way with the ex-demon. 

Demons were supposed to collect on deals, weren't they? Maybe that's why they never really cut it. Even before the eldritch energy was stripped from every fiber of their being, they had never really grafted onto it in the way they probably should have. It took…more effort than they'd like to admit to shake away the idea that the deficiency was somehow one of the reasons Leviathan left. Even the fleeting thought tugged on the scars. Filled their chest with a dull ache that had Teddy looking off in the distance, as if they'd somehow catch a glimpse of the great beast around some corner. 

“Whole world is a little weird, but it does seem a little extra… concentrated here.” They shrugged, the oddness had been one of their favorite things about this town. Always something to capture their wonder, their attention. Maybe in time, Van could learn to see it that way too. Maybe not. Only time would tell, and that ring would definitely buy her a little more than she might have had before. 

“You're cool, kid. No worries, okay? If you have more trouble or questions…I think you know where to find me online.” Teddy remembered her messaging, trying to get the scoop on their very embarrassing but thankfully well received crush on the detective. “Ciao.” With little more than a flourish of their hand, Teddy smiled, turned, and disappeared down the street, heading off to who knows where. 

[crisalidaseason]

Always bound to calamity - Chapter 7

Ancient and new ties

Summary: Armin explores the mangrove and speaks with a few people, Yelena and Floch find Pax's hiding place and plan how to invade it, Cauane and Eren follow Reiner to the land of sand. CW: talks of anxiety, being homeless, family issues and grief, also Yelena being a menace to poor innocent creatures.

“Do they still pray to you?” Cauane said, holding the boat’s railing while the sea breeze flowed around them.

“Sometimes” Armin replied, adjusting the sail to the breeze and smiling at the speed the boat suddenly gained “I never had many people praying to me back then, and most of the mortals who knew of me already died”

“What do they ask you?” the warrior asked again. Their hair was flying all around, leaving Armin flushed with how beautiful they looked.

“A peaceful sail, protection from any sea or river creatures that may lurk around them, a successful fishing, a good boat, sometimes they even ask me to find treasures despite me not being able to provide them that”

“You seem very tied to water territory. How surprising” they said ironically.

“My grandfather used to be the patron of Crab bay. He was known for blessing the fishermen and their sailings, always seen on this same boat, also sailing. That bay became his dominium and since I was always around him I eventually started to receive a few prayers from the younger sailors” the blond man answered “but sometimes I can bless journeys on land, if they travel around rivers”

“Is it upsetting? not having many worshippers”

“Not really, I never knew otherwise. Me and my grandfather were very tied to Crab bay, which always had a small population. I think not having many followers is perfect, they know us well, we can live among them and speak as acquaintances. Outside that bay nobody learned about me or my grandfather, they had their own gods and patrons to fulfill their needs”

“It seems peaceful” Cauane said “how does it feel? I never had someone pray to me, godhood is different in my homeland”

“It’s like an itch on your mind, a voice that hums in your head. If you pursue the feeling you can see, hear and feel the person praying”

The warrior nodded and turned their attention back to the water below.

_______________________

Armin woke up in a startle, not sure where he was for a few moments. It took some time for him to remember that he was still at the Night Mangrove, in a room he shared with Zeke and Reiner. He believed it was still too early in the morning, the crickets and frogs were still out. He sighed, looking at the wooden ceiling and recalling the dream - memory actually. It was almost 30 years ago, when Armin and Cauane were just occasional travelers knowing each other to pass the time. The man believed the dream came as a reminder of how long it has been since he heard a prayer. He sometimes wondered what would happen if he never left Crab bay, wondered if he could have had a peaceful and ordinary life becoming the patron after his grandfather’s death. He wanted to go back, but the grasp the higher gods had on him and many of his friends never allowed them to just leave the war. He hoped the small cluster of islands had another patron to care for them, Armin was no longer fit to be their god, let alone be the deity his grandfather was.

Armin gave up trying to sleep, only deep exhaustion could make him sleep again. He turned on his side, tugging at the necklace around his neck. He needed to find a way of destroying it without being hurt by its magic. He couldn’t run away like this and waiting for Cauane to find him wasn’t an option. He did not want them even crossing eyes with people like Zeke, but especially with that dog of his, Yelena. The necklace was her work for sure, Armin wasn’t skilled with blood and soul magic, those were abilities that could have you killed by the High Pantheon as soon as you showed signs. Yelena’s knowledge led Armin to fear her more than Zeke.

“Excuse me?” said the woman knocking on the door.

Zeke woke up, or maybe he was already awake, and opened the door.

“Yes, Karina” the man said.

“Reiner already left, could you help me with something?”

Zeke left the room with her, but not before looking at Armin.

“Feel free to wander around, Arlert. You’re not a prisoner”

Armin didn’t reply. When both Karina and Zeke left, he waited a few more minutes to finally leave the room himself, going to the porch for some fresh air. Reiner’s home was like many others in that mangrove, a suspended wood construction above the murky water. The home wasn’t very large, but enough for a family of 4 to live comfortably. Karina lived alone there, although there were child size clothes around, he saw no child. Maybe Reiner sent them to a safe place, a smart move on his part. This place would be destroyed, even if Armin wanted to help.

“Good morning, sir” an old fisherman greeted him, passing on his canoe.

Armin nodded to the fisherman, he scanned the small porch, looking for a canoe that he could use. He couldn’t find any, for some reason. Did Karina leave the home at all? There were no other ways of walking around a mangrove.

“Sir!” Armin called for the man that just passed. Luckily he was a few meters away only “is it too much bother if I join you?”

Minutes later, Armin was enjoying the sway of the canoe with the fisherman. He just wanted enough distance from Zeke, keeping his intentions of running away quiet to not trigger the necklace. He was a prisoner, just not in chains or locked in a room anymore.

“Are you scared, Sabrás?” he asked the man.

“Of the awakening?” the man asked “not really, those things happen”

“Have you lived here for long?”

“Many generations, more than I am able to count” the man said “do you mind me asking something?”

Armin encouraged the man to speak.

“Are you kin of the Braun boy, and the bearded one?”

“We share no blood, but we are the same kind” Armin replied “a god, you so call”

“My apologies, I should have shown more respect-”

“No” Armin interrupted “show me the same respect you would for another mortal. I am not your deity”

The man nodded.

“You see many deities around here?”

“You are the third one. I’ve known Braun the longest, but only recently I was told of his heritage. It’s strange, to have your kind so…visible”

“Do you have a deity?”

“I was never one to pray, but I show my respect to the old being of this land. I am thankful for what it gave me” the fisherman stopped his canoe “and I believe this is your path”

Armin looked at the main village, standing up and leaving the canoe. On the pier, he looked back at Sabrás.

“Do you think it’s fair? What is about to happen. Answer me truly, Sabrás”

“Truly? It is unfair. This mangrove is all I’ve ever known, but what can a fisherman do?”

Armin looked at the man for a while, remembering the dream, the memory, he had this morning.

“May you have a successful fishing trip. Bless your journey”

The man thanked the god and left, but Armin felt nothing. The words felt empty, his blessing useless before the scarcity of those waters. Maybe he was not worthy or able of this anymore.

______________________

Reiner was a beacon of feelings, and Cauane was starting to suffer with it. That man’s anguish laced with their own worries and caused the warrior to not be able to sleep properly. The journey was uneventful and Cauane was practically begging for danger to take their mind off of this man’s funnel of guilt. Eren would send them glances, his forehead slightly frowned.

“Are you certain you’re well?”

Cauane did not answer, just continued walking. They had left the High Abode through Eren’s temple, arriving at the edge of the continent in pursuit of a passage to the land of sand.

“It will take us a day until we reach the proper altar, if we rest through the night” Reiner said “I would rather we spend the night on a tavern nearby, to endure the next few kilometers better”

The warrior could feel something was strange. The man became more nervous as the sun started to set, whatever he needed the evening for, it was not for resting.

“We will not” Cauane said.

“I understand your haste, but we need to rest” the blond man replied.

“You, a supposed god and so called war veteran, cannot go a night without rest?” Cauane replied “how odd”

The man stopped, Cauane felt the anger growing inside him, but was soon overtaken by a sense of self loathing and frustration. Cauane was beginning to feel a headache on the back of their head, the long hours of handling that man’s emotions becoming heavier and heavier.

“Cauane, stop” Eren said “one night’s rest will not compromise-”

“It will compromise my husband’s life. We will not rest” They said “now stop talking and lead the way, man”

Reiner did not react to the harshness of Cauane’s words, still lost in his own sea of feelings, but kept walking regardless. Eren’s conflicted feelings for the man also overflowed the funnel of emotions Cauane was intercepting. The warrior considered tuning both men out, cease reading into their intentions, but the fear of being surprised was stronger. They could endure it, they went through worse times and ordeals during their four centuries alive.

“I know you are worried and time seems to be running out, but I know Armin is not harmed” Eren said.

“How can you be sure?” Cauane replied, still not looking at the man.

“I can feel him now that he is outside his concealing shield, if he was harmed I would know”

Cauane wondered if this was due to their blood bond, and if Mikasa also felt it.

“Danger does not require one to be physically hurt”

He didn’t continue the conversation, it was true after all. Besides, whatever Armin was needed for, they feared was something bad. Cauane wished they could feel him just like his two bonded friends could, maybe send him an unspoken message.

___________________________

“What is your plan?” Floch said with his ruined voice.

They stared at the large cave that marked the sanctuary of the life goddess. Both of their bodies were pushed away by the protective shield.

“This was well planned, someone helped the outsider” Yelena replied “someone important but definitely not Eren”

Floch hissed at the unspoken name. His hatred poured through the voice.

“I thought that bitch was already dead or at least imprisoned”

“She was banished from the High Abode, if that puts your hurting ego to rest”

“I’ll rest once I slice her throat like she did mine” he said “with her own sword”

Yelena tried not to laugh at that. Floch was a talented magician and decent fighter, but fighting Mikasa and dying once was enough proof he would never achieve his revenge.

“The child is in there, we need a way in” Yelena said “Do you have anything in mind?”

“We won’t be able to enter, Sasha is a powerful goddess and her sanctuary is impenetrable, but that doesn’t mean the people inside can’t come out”

“We can lure someone and use them” Yelena said.

The dead man nodded. Yelena had something in mind, but she needed a lot of energy for that, even more than she needed when summoning Floch’s entire form. Summoning a deity like him was by far her biggest accomplishment, and what she had in mind surpassed even that.

“We need to find people, a village would be ideal. I will also need an earth creature, a youngling to be precise, we should find them around the swamps ahead”

Both of them resumed their journey, now headed to the humid areas in search of a creature. Young earth creatures were particularly easy to find, you just needed to disturb the mud or wait by the sink holes where they liked to play. Yelena almost had sympathy for primordial creatures, they had no desire to do anything besides eating, sleeping and reproducing. Innocent creatures that had so many uses for wicked people and yet had no idea.

“I see one” Floch said, hiding behind the exposed roots of the trees nearby “Is it young enough?”

Yelena looked at the creature, a barely bipedal shaped being, made of soil and covered in snails, crabs and moths. It looked young, but old enough that the mother was not around anymore.

“Yes, this one is great. Be quiet, they blend into the mud too fast if scared”

Yelena slowly took a simple sphere Floch made from her pouch, it was strong enough to contain the earth creature. She placed the object on the ground and opened it, the small gray tendrils already coming out of the sphere and slowly approaching the clueless creature. In a glimpse, the tendrils locked around them and started to pull, the earth creature left a noise as it was quickly dragged in Yelena's direction.

“Hush” she said, in old tongue “I will free you soon”

The creature kept struggling against the strong grasp of the tendrils. Yelena grabbed the sphere and started to tighten the bindings even more, to the point the creature could not move at all.

“I’m not carrying it” Floch said.

Yelena tried not to show her annoyance, throwing the creature on her shoulders and sighing at the sight of mud and soil staining her clothes. A small price for her summoning to work.

_____________________

Armin arrived at Karina’s home when the already dim daylight was dissipating into the night. It took him longer than expected to successfully take a ride on someone’s canoe, he learned from the young man who brought him that many people were giving up fishing altogether, the dark waters too scarce on fish and the mud spawning dead crabs.

“Why don’t you leave?” Armin has asked the boy.

“I tried” he said “my parents don’t want to leave, our dead loved ones are all here, our lives and our homes. I beg them every day to search another place, but they never listen”

Armin would never understand the extreme ties some mortals had with their birth places, but he could sympathize with the fact they were all mourning. Armin was also mourning the loss of his peaceful life.

“I see you went for a stroll on those waters” Zeke said from the porch once Armin stepped on the wooden floor.

He did not answer, instead just looking at the blond man. He wanted to ask Zeke about the progress his dogs had on searching for Cauane, he needed to know how much time he had left.

“I hope you could see why this place deserves a chance” he said “many families here know nothing outside of this”

“I still don’t understand what you will gain from this” Armin finally replied “I doubt you do this for them, or Reiner”

“What makes you think that?”

Maybe the fact Zeke collected ‘rejected’ beings who can owe him a favor? But Armin did not say anything.

“How did you do it?” Armin asked.

“What?”

“To turn a once good friend of mine against me? Reiner and Annie were no surprise, but Eren?”

“Oh no” Zeke laughed “my brother is so unaware of this, he has no knowledge about his involvement on capturing you”

He was caught off guard, but quickly recomposed his features. If Eren had no idea, then Reiner must have deceived him, and probably still does. Armin sighed, this was more complicated than he imagined, even worse when there is a blood tie between Zeke and Eren. He never knew he had a sibling.

“You know” Zeke started “your partner is…more difficult than I gave them credit for. It’s been almost 6 days, but it’s coming to an end soon”

Armin shook his head and entered the home, going straight to the shared room, too tormented to even think about eating. He laid on the soft bedding, knowing that sleep would not come since his mind was constantly worrying with questions that drove him mad. He tugged at the necklace, tracing the sigil with his finger, if only he could destroy the magic inside. He was sure that only Yelena or another deity with her abilities would be able to do this. Even if his partner successfully reached him, it still wouldn’t change that he is imprisoned by the accessory. Armin was running out of time, he needed to act soon.

“papa?”

Armin sat on the bed, startled. He wondered if he was beginning to lose his mind, hallucinating his child’s voice. The strange itch on his mind was familiar, yet so foreign. Instinctively, Armin decided to reach the sound.

“Pax”

Chapter 6 <<>> Chapter 8

[emrysmorgan23]

My Story

It’s brutal. It’s hard. It cuts your heart open and bleeds it dry, just for you to try to stitch it back up and repeat the process over and over again. Life is pain. Life is turmoil. Life is sometimes lonely. Life is work.

But it’s also so much more.

I grew up in a very small, rural town in Virginia Beach. I was raised around rednecks, strict Christian conservatives, and generally people who didn’t like anyone who wasn’t like them. Don’t get me wrong, there were a few diamonds in the rough, but that was my basic community.

As a youth, back in the late 90s/early 00’s, information and resources were pretty tough to come by in the terms of the LGBTQIA+. It made me feel more isolated, more helpless. More wrong. It took me YEARS to get over the internalized homophobia I’d adapted to in order to survive: suppress my emotions, only to look at others who were out and proud with envy, finding myself uncomfortable with ANY form of PDA. Hell, I was too afraid to show affection in PRIVATE!

I’d made a couple other gay friends in high school. One day one of them, Tommy, sat with me in the auditorium. He’d seen my depression, how I’d withdrawn and dissociated. He’d seen me for who I was and who I wished to be. So Tommy sat down with me and after a little bit of talking, he asked me to say I was gay out loud. I was SHOCKED! He wanted me to say this around ALL of these people?!

But being the crazy person I am, of course I obliged. He smiled, and I smiled, and he asked me to say it again “with feeling”. So, I said it again. We shared a laugh and he said, “Now shout it! Shout it so your voice can fill the auditorium, just this once. Take the spotlight.” So I did. He gave me a high five, told me I’d be alright and promised me that the group of theater kids we were around were safe. The auditorium was a sanctuary.

Obviously, this didn’t totally ease my fears and anxiety, at least not completely. I never told him, or anybody, but in some way his kindness saved me. It cracked through the walls I’d built up to protect myself and allowed the light to shine back through. After that moment, I very carefully allowed my true self to show—at least at school. I’ve never told anybody this story, but I guess my heart is telling me it’s time to now. Tommy, if by some miracle you’re reading this now?

Thank you.

Watching all my friends pair up and finding myself an outcast once again, I still felt a little hopeless. “How can I find anyone to love in such a small pool of choices? Just because we’re gay doesn’t mean we’d be a great match,” I’d thought to myself.

When I was in middle school, the first Cheetah Girls movie came out. I was OBSESSED right from the beginning! As soon as I had money, I wanted cheetah EVERYTHING! And being someone who grew up without too much, I was pretty excited each time I could make a purchase. I will always remember the time I’d found a plush cheetah complete with two little cheetah cubs. I’d called my mom who was elsewhere in the store, so excited to tell her I’d found something else to add to my collection. She was instantly angry and told me “You want to be a Cheetah Girl? You want to wear a dress? Put that in the car then come meet me in the women’s department and we’ll get you some dresses, you little f****t.”

Obviously, my heart was crushed. “Definitely not coming out to her anytime soon,” I said after I hung up. Yeah, I shed a couple tears but once again I’d put up the barriers and be a shell, if only to try to be numb and not feel the stabbing pain that my mother could never accept me, not entirely.

A couple years later she’d asked me if I was gay and said she’d love me regardless. Maybe she’d felt guilty for that time and quietly changed her views? I didn’t know, I still don’t know to this day, but I wasn’t about to trust her and leave it to chance. I couldn’t let myself become homeless if I could prevent it.

When I was 19, 4 months away from turning 20, my mother was hospitalized due to scleroderma. She’d fallen into a coma after some kidney failures among other things, and something told me this was my last chance. If I ever wanted to tell my mother while she was alive, THIS was my chance. So, with my throat already painfully clenching from the tears I was inevitably building up, I took her hand and I told her those two words I’d always been afraid to tell her. The same words Tommy once inspired me to say.

“I’m gay.” I asked her to please wake up, so she could tell me she loved me and that everything would be okay. That she was still my mom and always would be. Sadly, I never got that luxury because shortly after she passed away.

I found myself wandering a bit aimlessly, bouncing from a couple places between a coworker’s house, my sister’s couch, and my best friend’s parents’ house. If it hadn’t been for my friendship with Matt and the unconditional love from his parents, I probably wouldn’t have made it through half the things I went through. I’d experienced walking to and from work 1-2/12 hours each way depending on the job I had at the time. I’d experienced a car accident, the harsh truth that not EVERYBODY could be trusted or had my best interests in mind. Shortly after my mom passed, her boyfriend had kicked me out after he’d learned from talk around town that I was gay.

And then one day, I saw a post from a new friend I’d made on Facebook talking about how his parents treated him. We started talking, me offering him words of comfort and advice, then suddenly he wanted to date me! He lived states away, so I didn’t see the realism in that. I ruthlessly tried to self-sabotage myself and threw EVERY flaw about me his way to try to dissuade him, yet it didn’t work. That man became my husband and currently we’re going 6 years strong.

My story isn’t a carbon copy of every LGBTQIA+ experience. Honestly, despite my own bad moments and experiences, I was one of the lucky ones. I spent a fair share with depression, having tried to kill myself in elementary school due to bullying. I won’t go into HOW I tried, but I WILL say I kind of chuckle at myself now in a kind of dark way because it NEVER would have worked. Then a year later I was caught looking up ways to do it.

Despite this, I somehow stayed strong. I idealized MANY times how I’d end it, how everyone would be better off without me. My life was hopeless, I was a lost cause.

But causes are only lost when we give up on them.

Despite all of the heartache, despite never feeling like I was enough, I somehow managed to get my husband and brother-in-law away from a terribly narcissistic situation. I spent 3 hours on the phone once convincing my brother-in-law to break up completely with his boyfriend because they were in a viciously toxic cycle that the boyfriend wasn’t willing to break. When I’d moved to Ohio, shortly after my (now) brother-in-law, (18 at the time) had been outed to his parents and they…weren’t the most receptive at first. And he’d called me to confide that he felt his whole world was upended and he just wanted to end it. So I became the person I wished I’d had with me through all of my own dark moments. I followed Tommy’s example.

It’s never easy. It’s never FUN and it NEVER seems fair. It feels…so EASY, so PEACEFUL, to think about just escaping from all of the problems and just freeing yourself from the world and it’s crap. I’m not gonna try to be cliché, or to offer empty platitudes. I can’t promise that it will get better. I can’t promise that you’ll make it through the other side unscathed. However, I CAN speak from personal experience and promise that you are here for a purpose. You have a voice. Every moment is a choice. We can always choose the “easier” option, the one that doesn’t change anything for the better but leaves us relatively comfortable, or we can choose the “difficult” path. The one that will deal us much discomfort, possible battle scars, maybe losing some “friends” in the process, but ultimately grants us strength, pride…freedom.

“Nothing worth having is ever easy.”

I’m not going to tell you that suicide is selfish. I’m not going to say it’s not worth it or that it’s a “permanent solution to a temporary problem”. Nobody who is idealizing or planning suicide believes any of that. They’re pretty much empty words. However, if you are one of those people who is questioning, who is afraid to be yourself, who is afraid they’ll lose everything or they’re not worth the “trouble”… I am with you. There are still times I struggle with it, but the younger me who was filled with the same pain you are and for the same reasons is right there beside you. Those who came before you, walked in those same shoes…are with you.

You don’t have to be alone anymore.

Take your time. Take each day one moment at a time. I AM going to be selfish and ask you to take my words to heart, to realize you’re not the first to feel this pain and you sadly won’t be the last, and to find that strength within you to keep going so you can live your life the way you were always meant to: free. It’s not easy. There’s ALWAYS going to be a battle to win, a war to fight, but you’ll never be alone. We need you. We need your light and your strength. Okay, I’m done being selfish.

“The hardest thing in the world is to live in it.”

So be strong. Be brave. Live because YOU are worth fighting for. You are worth the air you breathe, the space you take. You are WORTHY of your seat at the LGBTQIA+ table whether you’re proudly out or not. You’re worthy of life.

You are worthy to shape the world into a better place for those who will walk in your shoes after you’ve outgrown them.

You are valued. You will find your tribe. It takes time for a bird to spread its wings to fly away from the nest to build its own.

So will you.

[malleux]

spell [2]. | corpse husband

part one ; part three

-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

-> Genre: Fluff, Slight Angst

-> Warnings: Hate Comments, Self Doubt, Anxiety, Cursing

-> A/N: thank you for 1k notes on part one! i’m so glad everyone likes my work. it’s really nice getting this much love after taking a hiatus on my fire emblem writing blog. i hope y’all enjoy it and stay on the lookout for part three!

corpse husband taglist is closed!

Two weeks.

It’s been two weeks since you joined Sean’s Among Us stream.

While that was your first public appearance, you had joined three others after that and already you were blowing up on almost every social media platform you had. The attention was kind of nice, you had to admit, but sometimes the anxiety of becoming a public figure weighed heavily on your shoulders.

During that time, you turned to your friends who were used to such scrutiny: Sean, Felix, and now Corpse, who you’ve been talking to every day for those two weeks.

It was another one of those nights where, at 1am, you were on Facetime with said man. His screen was dark, as usual. He hadn’t shown his face yet and you respected that. You didn’t need to see him to talk to him, or be his friend, or develop a slight crush on him. All of which you did.

The call was relatively silent on your end. Corpse was on Facetime with you, yes, but he was also on a call in Discord, once again playing Among Us.

You often wondered if playing that game was all your new friends did anymore.

You stayed quiet, letting Corpse play the game and avoiding his fans finding out about your call. You had college work to finish anyways, so the silence was rather helpful.

“We should ask Y/N if she wants to play. I wanna meet her.” Sykkuno’s voice rang out from the Discord call. He was right- you’d never met him. He and Corpse seemed extremely close, though, so you’d love to talk to him. A friend of your crush friend was a friend of yours.

“She’s busy tonight.” Corpse responded.

“Yeah, she’s got an exam coming up- wait, how do you know?” Sean joined in, questioning Corpse.

“Uh, I mean we’re on Facetime right now, I guess.” Your heart sped up- now his fans knew. “She’s studying. We’re just hanging out.”

“Didn’t you guys ‘hang out’ last night as well? It seems like you’re trying to take my best friend away from me.” Sean joked back.

“I mean, I definitely am.”

Your breath caught in your throat. What was that supposed to mean? Sean was obviously kidding, but the tone in Corpse’s voice wasn’t the one he used when he was joking as well.

Felix suddenly butted in. “Ooooh, I think Corpse-y has a little crush.”

“And if I do?”

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

꧁꧂

Three weeks, now, that you’ve been talking to Corpse daily.

One week since Corpse’s crush comment and one week that you’ve endured countless mentions and tags on Instagram and Twitter, constantly talking about #CorpseY/N.

You didn’t really mind the shipping, often losing yourself in daydreams about driving those two hours down from your apartment in Los Angeles down to San Diego and running into his arms. It didn’t help when he mentioned wanting you to come visit one day.

You just worried about how Corpse felt about them. He was still relatively new to blowing up on the internet as well, his fame suddenly skyrocketing in the past few months, so you weren’t sure if he was comfortable with them. You didn’t want to bring it up, either, fearing that the discussion would make things awkward between the two of you.

For now, you were rather content with just scrolling through the #CorpseY/N hashtag, looking at the pictures and nice things people had to say about you both.

“they’re so cute when they talk to each other, you can just tell Corpse meant it when he said he was trying to steal Y/N away.”

“#CorpseY/N is my new favorite thing. Everyone shut up this is all I’ll be talking about from now on.”

“God why can’t they just be together already? #CorpseY/N”

Everyone was so supportive and sweet, it almost made you feel like you already were Corpse’s girlfriend. Although your heart hurt when you were brought back to reality, you couldn’t help but love the comments that everyone left. They were amazing.

Until they weren’t.

There are always two sides of the same coin. Along from the supporters and their loving actions, there were also those who seethed at the idea of you and Corpse.

They scrutinized everything about you to the point that you made your Instagram account- already with 30k followers- private.

Haters talked about you. Your body, your personality, how you weren’t worthy to even talk to Corpse and the rest of the Youtubers, and so much more. You’ve spent many nights with your Facetime mic muted so that Corpse couldn’t hear the small sobs coming from you.

These thoughts were almost always on the back of your mind, but you were sometimes able to push them away.

Like now- as you focused on your exam. Well, tried to focus. There comes to be a time where one can only hear so many negative things about themselves before they can’t ignore it anymore.

But alas, you tried your hardest and finished your exam, before walking out of the room and pulling out your phone. Now, you had a break before your new classes started and you’ve never been more relieved. You pulled up a certain contact and clicked on the message icon, beginning to type.

you:

i’m finished! up next, a break.

corpse:

I hope you did well. How long is your break?

you:

two weeks!

corpse:

Come spend it in San Diego

You stopped in your tracks, taken aback by the offer. You really didn’t think that he’d invite you over, but you weren’t about to complain. Instead, you sent back an ‘I’ll pack tonight :)’ and rushed home to do just that.

Corpse called you as you packed, just like he calls every night. You were used to the routine now, often falling asleep around 3am as he stays on the phone, doing whatever he does with his ruined sleep schedule until you wake up and say good morning.

Tonight, however, you were too jittery to sleep. You stayed up all night with Corpse, talking about anything and everything, like usual.

What wasn’t usual, though, was how distracted he sounded. It made you nervous- was he having second thoughts about inviting you over? Was something wrong?

Your thoughts nearly overwhelmed you, forcing you to say something.

“Are you okay, Corpse?” You tried to hide the small shake in your voice.

“Hm? Uh, yeah, yeah, everything’s good. Why?”

“It doesn’t sound like it. What’s going on? You’re acting off.”

His side of the phone was silent for a moment, before he let out a sigh. “I’m just thinking about what I’ve got to do before you get here tomorrow. Like, cleaning and stuff.”

“Pshh, that doesn’t matter to me.” You waved your hand, even though he couldn’t see it in the darkness of your room.

“It’s just that, my apartment isn’t… the best. It’s small and there’s only one bedroom and it’s kind of shitty. I just don’t want it to be even more shitty.”

“Corpse, I’m coming there to spend time with you, not your apartment. I don’t care what any of that shit looks like. I’m going to be looking at you and hanging out with you. Not your apartment.” You didn’t mean to go on a tangent of reassurance, but you truly meant all of your words. “Hell, I might not even see the apartment because I already know I won’t be able to look away from you.”

“I- God, give me a minute. That took me off guard.” He laughed. “But thank you. I may not even be able to clean because I’ll be distracted too.”

“By what?”

“You, standing in front of me, in person.” You could hear the smile in his voice. “That’s a fucking dream come true.”

┎┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┒

taglist: @namjoons-crabssss @lookingforaplacetosleep @teenloves @princess00wifi @pillowjj @nvm-idgaf @creativedogs @wildflowerwhore @chillininahottub-withaghost @whyisquill @holosexualunicorn7000 @ourheavenlyemotions

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[random4townheadcanons]

4town when they were in highschool ? like what type of student were they

BYE IM SORRY I KEEP SENDING REQUESTS

and did someone request this already 😭

4town members when they were in high school headcanons!!

(Ok so in my headcanons Jesse was the only member who actually went to high school because the band formed when the Aaron’s and Robaire were in the beginning of their high school years, so this is kind of an alternate universe).

Robaire - Robaire was a straight-A student. He studied hard and prioritized school above everything else, so he didn’t have a lot of well-functioning friendships. He was particularly gifted in his English class, because he loves reading and is really skilled in writing, so he always got the highest grades out of anyone in his class, and specifically excelled in his essay writing and book reports, because he always stayed on top of the homework and reading. He was never a teachers pet though. He was well liked but he wasn’t very social.

Jesse - Jesse did ok in school, he mostly got b’s, a few a’s, and sometimes a couple c’s. Jesse had a lot of genuine friendships in high school, he was really well liked. He never hung out with the popular kids, even though they all wanted to be his friend. He always resented fake, surface-level friendships that only revolved around social status. Jesse went to a few parties in high school before realizing that they were not his thing, because he didn’t like hanging out with people other than his close friends. He didn’t really like high school but he made the best of it.

Tae Young - Tae did pretty good in school. He got mostly a’s and a couple b’s. He wasn’t as strictly focused on just school as Robaire was, but he still always did his homework and studied hard. He had a couple friends, but they weren’t super close friendships. He mainly just hung out with them at school and not so much outside of school. Tae wasn’t really popular among his peers, but he didn’t want to be. He didn’t really like high school, his main focus was just to get through it and make sure he had a good future planned.

Aaron T - T was that student who got straight a’s without even trying. He never studied for tests but got a’s on all of them. He also never read the books they were assigned to read but somehow always did well on essays and book reports only from knowing summaries. T was well liked and everyone thought he was really nice and funny but he just hated the people at his school because he felt like they were fake and mean and shallow. For this reason, he was fine not having any friends and he spent most of his spare time skateboarding. He also didn’t like high school.

Aaron Z - Z was also a really good (mostly A) student because he was constantly studying and stressing over homework. He would always do his assignments as early as he possibly could. He really hated math and struggled with it no matter how hard he studied, and this was really frustrating for him. Z was definitely skilled enough to play on the basketball team, but his social anxiety was so bad that he didn’t even consider trying out. Z despised high school and had really bad depression and anxiety, and he would sometimes leave to sit in a bathroom stall and maybe even cry for a little while :/

So basically they all hated high school lol.

Anyways I hope you liked them and I am always taking requests so keep sending them!!

[coupsie-daisies]

Get To Believing | Lee Felix

Pairing: Lee Felix x GN!Reader

Genre: Theater AU? University AU, fluff

Summary: Felix never fully understood the appeal of musical theatre until his best friend roped him into working tech. He also never believed in love at first sight. Maybe he had a lot left to learn.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: vague descriptions of college theatre, it’s awkward as hell, anxious Felix, a mention or two of twice’s Jihyo

A/N: three posts in five days? I’m on a roll, or maybe I’m pushing the limits. Either way, more content than ever. Hope you enjoy!

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @sunnytaes // @burningupp // @bunnypig18 // @chrswolfie // @ferrethyun // @brownieracha // @ashia4​ (i know you didn’t ask but you’re stuck with me)

Felix really hadn’t wanted to be part of the university theater department. It actually was very low on the list of things he wanted to do, but he had a bit of spare time in his schedule that he’d really been hoping to capitalize on, and his roommate was in desperate need. A couple members of the tech team had dropped out of the production for reasons that Chan had been too worked up to disclose, and he’d promised that it would be super easy to get the hang of.

Felix was grateful that it actually was pretty easy to get the hang of, and he already knew a couple people running sound which is where he ended up spending his time. Felix was grateful that making friends came easily because most of the tech crew was nice to him, and when Chan was busy that soothed his anxiety.

He found himself spending a decent share of his time outside of the rehearsals with Chan and other members of the cast and crew, meeting Chan’s co-director, Minho, and various members of the cast. But no matter who he was with, his eyes were always gravitating toward you.

Felix didn’t actually believe in love at first sight, but whatever happened to him when he saw you for the first time made him wonder. You, on the stage in a pair of jeans and an oversize tee-shirt, learning choreography from one of the noonas. His face flushed pink and he could have sworn his heart was going to beat out of his chest just at the sight of you.

He’d had to endure a wild amount of teasing from Chan for the way he stumbled over his words when the two of you were introduced. But he didn’t care, you’d smiled so bright at him and complimented his hair. He wondered if he had made an impression, if you actually remembered him among all the tech crew faces that you probably didn’t have time to think of between memorizing your lines, studying for your classes, and endlessly rehearsing for the show.

But even throughout all of that, he never heard you complain. Chan had told him that you were a theatre arts major. Felix figured there couldn’t be anything more suited to how passionate you were on the stage.

But none of those things were what really struck Felix about you. What always took him by surprise was your confidence. You took criticism with grace, never beating yourself up too much, and you were always willing to try something new, even if you’d never thought to try it before. Even off the stage, you held your head high. You didn’t hide yourself when you giggled, or try to make yourself smaller. And something about that made you absolutely radiant in his eyes.

“You know,” He told Chan over their meals back in their dorm. “I’ve never really understood wanting to go to a play before,”

Chan chuckled, knowing exactly where Felix’s mind was. He understood, you were like nothing he’d ever met and, if he were being quite honest with himself, he should have seen this coming. Felix was particularly susceptible to the sweetest things in life, and you most certainly fell into that category. He should have thought of introducing the two of you earlier. And if it weren’t for the fact that he knew you’d brush it off while you were working on the production, he’d probably be playing matchmaker for the two of you.

It wasn’t that you were disinterested in relationships, it was simply that you had yet to meet someone who understood your level of passion. When you cared about something it consumed you whole, even if only for a short period of time. Felix was similar, though the thing that usually consumed him was helping people to reach what they wanted. Chan thought that might click into place well for the two of you.

“I think I get it now. I mean, everyone works so hard and…” He trailed off, a bashful grin lifting onto his lips that had Chan laughing and reaching out to poke at his younger friend’s arm.

“Just say you like them already. There’s no shame in that, Lix.” He said, leaning back against the couch that he’d sat in front of. Felix spluttered. Of course he liked them, there was hardly anything he could imagine not liking. But to hear it out loud was different.

It wasn’t that Felix was shy per se, he was just afraid that you’d reject him offhand. He’d dated before, even been in love, but he’d never before been so entirely taken with someone. It scared him a little, but it was hard to be scared around you. You had a way of making the people around you brave.

“You should tell them if you like them so much,” Chan added. Felix shook his head adamantly. Still, Chan persisted. “I promise you won’t regret it. The worst that happens is they say they don’t want to go on a date – which they won’t say – and then you carry on just being friends.”

Sure, it was that easy on paper. But Felix didn’t know how to handle the idea of you rejecting him or looking at him differently. Not because you were perfect, or better than him, Felix knew that you were only human, but it was still intimidating.

“Just think about it. Next week is show week, don’t miss out just because you’re nervous, alright?” Chan smiled, standing up to take his dishes to the sink leaving Felix alone with his thoughts.

The next week was chaos, mostly because it was tech week which had the entire cast pushing his limits. Expectations were high, and as strict as Chan was, Minho was stricter which could be a bit intimidating. Felix had no doubt that he made his fair share of mistakes.

Nevertheless, things were generally running smoothly, and as everyone marched towards exhaustion and opening night nerves, you seemed to burn even brighter. Your stage presence was undeniable and, as much as it made Felix nervous (and, although he’d refuse to admit it, a fair bit jealous), your chemistry with your co-star had only gotten stronger.

Chan insisted it was normal, that the two of you were spending a lot of time building your relationship so you could work better together on stage. Don’t let it psych you out, his elder had insisted. Easier said than done, but he digressed.

Now, he was preparing with everyone else on the sound team as people filed in and found their seats. He’d never been to a theater production of this size, but even he was growing nervous with the number of people. Everyone was chattering over their headsets, and he was even more grateful than ever for everyone who was helping him along the way. It wasn’t overly difficult, but every now and then Felix’s nerves got the best of him and there were so many people counting on them to make this run smoothly on their end of things.

“You’re going to do fine, you know.” Felix spun around from where he was standing in the booth, looking out at the stage. You smiled, made up completely in costume, your makeup was done in the near gaudy fashion he’d learned was special for performance makeup. Even still, you looked breathtaking, and his lips curled up into a smile.

“Thanks, you are too. But you probably already know that.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you laughed.

“Thanks, Felix. Are you nervous? First shows always give people the jitters.” You made a show of shaking out your hands and bouncing your weight from side to side. “Just have to shake it out, and tell yourself it’ll be a great performance no matter what. And you haven’t let me down yet, so I’m sure you’ll keep up the good work.”

He hoped you didn’t see the way he blushed, or think anything of him clearing his throat. He was about to brush off the compliment and tease you for making him nervous about letting you down, or say something about how you didn’t need to think so highly of him, but then your presence fully clicked in his head.

“Wait, what are you doing up here? You should be getting ready and getting in the zone. Chan said you have a whole ritual before you go on.” His eyes were wide and frantic for a moment at the idea of you missing out on your routine.

You smiled, and for a second his thoughts left his head completely, and you laughed so sweetly that he swore he’d ascend. You shook your head.

“No, it’s okay. I’m all hyped up and ready for the stage. I just really wanted to come up here and talk to you before we started. Come find me after the show, okay? Promise?” You started carefully backing towards the door, keeping your eyes on him until he gave in, nodding and promising to find you. You nodded triumphantly and turned to hurry back down and get backstage before you got yourself into trouble.

Opening night went as smoothly as any opening night could, and the crowd sincerely seemed to love the show, though Felix couldn’t imagine anyone hating the show you put on. Once the show was wrapped up, and he got the go-ahead from Jihyo to go ahead and not worry about taking care of everything in the booth, Felix was grabbing his things and racing down to find you.

The cast was gathered outside the auditorium, giving their thanks and receiving praise in return. Felix admittedly didn’t love large crowds, but he steeled himself. If he could at least find Minho or Chan, maybe they could point him in your direction.

“Felix! Over here,” Your voice called, and instantly Felix looked up. He grinned, gently nudging and apologizing his way through the swarm of people until he was standing in front of you in all your radiance. You said one more quick thank you to the people you were talking to, an older couple who smiled at you and looked between you and Felix. You looked at him for a second before giggling and bowing your head to the couple.

Once they left, your attention was wholly on him.

“My biggest fans,” You joked, nodding towards the couple who had moved on to talk to a couple of your friends from the cast. “They’ve come to every show I’ve been in since I was 14.” You said with a laugh that made his stomach twist in knots.

“That’s really nice, I can see why they’d keep an eye on your career.” He complimented. You shrugged, but the glimmer in your eye was enough to show off that you appreciated his praise.

“How did it feel? Being part of something like that?” You asked him.

“Terrifying. I was so scared I was going to mess it all up,”

“Well, you did amazing. Seriously, I think the tech team is going to fight to keep you around.” You told him, reaching out to poke at his arm. “Thanks for helping out with this. I know Channie had to drag you into it, but everyone really appreciates you stepping up. I’ll take you out for ice cream or something sometime to thank you.”

“Yeah,” Felix reached up to touch his hair, trying to smooth it into place, not that it had been out of place to begin with. You’d noticed he did that sometimes when he was nervous. And how his fingers would always subconsciously find his pulse. It was cute, and part of you wondered if he was doing that during the show whenever he’d worry that he was going to slip up.

“Cool, it’s a date. I’ll find you sometime after the show closes and we can figure out a time.” You sent him a playful wink, and excused yourself, leaving him alone with his thoughts and the buzz of the crowd around him.

The rest of the week went by in a flash, performances only being broken up by class periods that he was restless to get through. Each show he hoped to be able to talk to you again, but you were always busy, always surrounded by people. The most he managed was a quick hello and a promise to talk soon. He held onto it as everyone prepared for the last performance.

The closing night carried a lot of emotions that Felix wasn’t expecting. He knew Chan had a habit of getting emotional come closing, but he never understood why until he was in it. The entire cast and crew were gathered on stage well before the doors opened, everyone in costume and ready to make the last run their best. Chan and Minho stood at the front alongside the other upperclassmen that had helped bring this outstanding project to fruition. Each of them took their turn giving a pep talk to the cast and crew and trying their hardest to keep everyone from crying and messing up their makeup.

As everyone dispersed, Felix found himself wallowing in a sense of fear and anxiety he hadn’t expected. You and him were hardly friends, and even though you’d agreed to talk, to get ice cream, to spend time together, things like that didn’t always come true. If he chickened out now, if he went back on his words, he’d regret it. He knew that. Chan was usually right when he pushed him, but sometimes it was harder to accept that than others.

“Hey, freckles,” You called. Felix jumped, turning to see that it was just the two of you on stage now, everyone else headed to finish getting ready or getting props set up. “What’s on your mind? You’re a million miles away.”

He shook his head. “Nothing, just wondering how you handle the end of this kind of stuff.”

He smiled at you, and you nodded.

“It’s hard, but you get used to the emotion after a while. I like to think about the opportunities it opens up instead of the door closing behind me, you know? There’ll be so many shows after this, and if I were stuck on this one, I wouldn’t get a chance to do them.”

He listened, and you reached out to take his hand. His palm was warm against yours. You squeezed it.

“You should help out with more shows. Maybe Jihyo will even let you take over the tech booth when she graduates.” You teased. “But first we have to finish this. Come on.”

Felix followed you off stage where you finally let go of his hand, splitting off to finish getting ready and leaving him alone again. This wasn’t an opportunity he was willing to miss out on.

As expected, the closing night performance was even better than the ones that came before it, everyone’s emotions manifesting in a tangible sort of energy in the room. Felix was even more drawn in than usual, and for the most part, things ran smoothly which finally allowed him to breathe. He was getting antsy as everyone took their final bows, even more so when Chan came out to make a short speech and recognize everyone. It all dragged on too long, his nerves getting the best of him and making his heart race,

But finally, the curtain closed, and the lights came up, and Felix only had a few more moments to wait before he could talk to you.

He wanted you to go out with him, of course he did, but there was a certain sort of comfort that came with the idea of just having it over with. Even if you rejected him and called him an idiot – not that he could picture you doing that, you were always so kind to him after all, he would have the wondering silenced.

There were more people than before, and Felix tried not to get overwhelmed by it, instead clutching at the bouquet of flowers he’d gotten. He’d had to ask for help, not sure if any decision would be good enough if it came from him. But in his hands he held an array of colorful flowers, wrapped in paper and tied with a ribbon as he followed the flow of people.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he found you, beaming as bright as ever despite the fact that you’d clearly shed a few tears over the end of the show. He wiped his palms on his thighs and took a deep breath.

“Lix, hey!” You called. He looked at you, brown eyes blown wide like a deer in the headlights. You laughed. Right, he was here to do something. He made his way over to you, holding out the bouquet gingerly.

“I got these for you. That’s a thing people do right? Bring flowers to performers?” He shifted his weight and you smiled.

“Thank you, Felix, they’re amazing. You didn’t have to do that,” Nevertheless you took them, admiring what you knew must have been a pretty penny’s worth of flowers. You were used to getting flowers, but this was more than that. And they were from Felix which only made them that much more special to you.

“I know, but I wanted to.” He promised, watching the way you admired the gift. It made a bit of pride rise in his chest, something he didn’t often feel, so he was happy to run with it. “Hey, I was wondering…you’ll have a bit more free time now that the show is done, right? I mean until your next ones?”

You looked at him, noting the way he reached up to fix his hair, the way his eyes seemed restless as they scanned your face. You nodded.

“Yeah, my schedule should be pretty open besides classes and whatever.” You agreed.

“Cool. Then I was thinking, and it’s totally fine if not but I thought I should ask before I never see you again, you know? But would you maybe wanna go out with me? On a date, I mean.”

You giggled, and he paused, finally looking at you properly. You nodded.

“Yeah, I was hoping you’d asked. I thought I was gonna have to ask you if you kept being all shy around me.” You told him. His lips parted in a silent question. “I’ve been trying to get Chan to nudge you into asking me for weeks now since I wasn’t exactly sure how you actually felt.”

“How I actually felt? Y/N, I’ve been head over heels for you for the past three months. I can’t believe I could have been taking you on dates this whole time.” He laughed, and his face tinted pink in the cutest way. You stepped closer, letting your hand find his again and pulling him towards you enough to press your lips to his in a quick kiss.

“Better get to believing then. No use wasting more time.”

[musical-shit-show]

waste my time

Pairing: Dewey Finn x Reader

Inspiration: Prompts #29 (you know this means nothing, right?) and #62 (enjoying the view?) from Prompt List #2

Warnings: cursing, drinking, mild drug use (marijuana), anxiety, depression, Dewey is a little bit of an asshole if you squint, light angst, a touch of fluff

Word Count: 3,745

Author’s Note: Okay this turned out a bit longer than I anticipated, but I’m really starting to like writing for Dewey. I suppose this is set before the events of SoR, but whatever…my one shot, my rules. If enough people ask (or if I get a jolt of inspiration) I might write a sequel. As always, please check out my full masterlist, about me page, and prompt lists! And if you have a request, please send one to my ask box! And of course, like, comment, and reblog if you enjoy! Thanks for reading :)

“Can we please leave now?”

“You know, you could try and have fun at one of these things for once,” your best friend Patty scoffed at you, “Even I’m having a good time. That’s how I know you’re being a stick in the mud.” You chuckled humorlessly as she handed you a beer.

The music was thumping so hard you could barely hear yourself think. Quickly, you took a sip of the cheap brew. How you had been roped into attending a Halloween party where you knew barely anyone, you’ll never know. Patty always had a way of dragging you to social events, because, well, her boyfriend Ned also had a way of dragging her to social events. Except now, you seemed to be the only one who was miserable out of the dozens of increasingly drunk twenty-somethings.

So, there you were, only having been in attendance for little more than a half hour and already eager to leave. Not only were you growing more and more claustrophobic as party goers crammed themselves into the seemingly ever-shrinking Brooklyn apartment, but you were also dreading the arrival of a certain wannabe rock star.

“He’s not here yet,” Patty said, catching you eye the front door, “Thankfully.” You didn’t know how it was possible, but you found Dewey Finn even more infuriating than Patty did, and she was the one who had to deal with his constant freeloading and loud scream-singing.

It wasn’t that you thought he was a bad person, per se. But he made it very clear that he did not give a shit about anyone but himself, and you couldn’t stand that. And what pissed you off even more is that he seemingly managed to make everyone like him, despite his utterly selfish ways.

It was at that moment that there was a cheer near the entrance of the apartment, and you rolled your eyes into the stratosphere; Dewey had just arrived, hoisting a keg the size of a small toddler into the crowd, stupid grin plastered on his face.

As he made his way to the kitchen, you could see that he was wearing tight black jeans with a matching black button-down shirt that was rolled at the sleeves, and a red tie. His hair was unkempt, as usual, and he was also sporting a thick ring of eyeliner around his top and bottom lash lines. ‘Oh, right,’ you thought, ‘Ned had mentioned something about him coming as Billy Joe Armstrong. Figures.’

For as long as you’ve known him, Dewey wanted to be a professional musician and performer. And he was actually pretty talented; the only problem was that he could never stay in a band long enough to make a decent amount of money.

“Hey, Dew!” Ned called happily, waving to his best friend who was emerging from the tiny kitchen area like a god among men. He and Patty had decided on a couple’s costume, Fred and Daphne from Scooby-Doo. Unoriginal, but you had opted for Wednesday Addams, so you couldn’t really judge. Even holidays like Halloween brought you little joy these days.

Patty took another swig of her beer, and you surmised that it would be the first of many if she was supposed to put up with Dewey all night. As he neared, you got a better look at him. More specifically, you couldn’t help but take note at how well that eyeliner suited him. It gave his typically dopey face a little bit of edge.

“Enjoying the view?” you heard him say over the blaring music, a small, impish smile spreading across his face. Shit. He had obviously noticed your staring. You thanked the powers that be that the lights were low; the last thing you needed was for him, Ned, and Patty to catch your face reddening in embarrassment.

Instead, you clenched your jaw, instantly tensing your muscles. “Nope, I was just thinking about how if your music career never takes off, you can always work at CVS recommending makeup products to emo teens.” Patty snorted into her bottle, amused. She loved it when you exchanged verbal blows with Dewey; when she did it, it always ended in an argument between her and Ned. This way, she could just watch and relish in your takedown.

However, Dewey seemed unfazed on this particular evening. “You’d know about emo teens in that getup, huh?” his tone playful yet not without bite, “That eyeliner looks almost as black as your soul.” You couldn’t help but laugh incredulously. If he didn’t make you want to tear your hair out, you’d be almost impressed with his little comeback.

“Alright, enough you two,” Ned said as you continued to stare daggers into Dewey’s eyes while his continued to mock, “I’m going to get a drink. Dew, could you uh, help me with the keg?”

“Of course, oh best friend of mine,” Dewey replied, straightening his tie and winking at you and Patty, “Enjoy the party, ladies. I’d love to see you two let loose for once.” Ned practically pulled Dewey’s arm out of the socket towards the kitchen, not in the mood for a spat to break out.

“In your dreams, Finn!” you called in their direction, feeling your temperature rise even further. Your night was already going about as well as you had imagined, you didn’t need Dewey Finn tormenting you with his antics any more than you needed a hot sauce enema.

Patty let out a dry laugh and grabbed another beer from the cooler that sat next to the torn-up couch, “Wanna get drunk?” Your mouth twitched upwards.

“Very.”

*

The alcohol was not working. Why wasn’t it working? You felt mildly tipsy, yes, but it wasn’t enough to stop the familiar tightening feeling of dread that was firmly present in your chest and quickly spreading throughout your body.

You soon found yourself in a bedroom, whose you weren’t sure. You didn’t care. You just needed to get away from everyone. Luckily, it wasn’t difficult. Patty was doing shots with Ned and some of their other friends, and it was almost too easy to tell her you needed some air and could fend for yourself. The truth was, you were so overwhelmed, by both the party and, well, everything else.

Work had been kicking your ass, your love life was in the toilet, and you still felt like you didn’t belong in the city. You could feel hot tears welling behind your eyes, allowing a few to spill onto your black skirt. You blinked rapidly, tilting your head towards the ceiling. The last thing you wanted was to fuck up your makeup and ruin your night even further.

Suddenly, your panic attack was interrupted by the bedroom door swinging open. You have got to be shitting me, you thought sourly as Dewey stood in the frame, looking even more disheveled than usual. The faint smell of hops wafted in your direction, and you prayed he wasn’t totally fucked up; Drunk Dewey was even less pleasant to be around than his sober counterpart.

He looked at you, then the pile of coats that adorned most of the bed, and then frowned. “Goddamn it, you didn’t happen to see a black and white guitar pick anywhere, would you?” he ran a hand through his messy brown hair. You shook your head, attempting to steady your breathing. Screw your makeup, the actual last thing you wanted was for Dewey Finn to catch you in a moment of weakness.

Luckily, he seemed too caught up in his guitar pick crisis to notice. “Can’t you just get another one?” you asked, your voice faltering ever so slightly. Dewey pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly annoyed by your seemingly harmless question.

“Another one?” he repeated, exasperated, “No, you don’t understand, it’s Van Halen’s pick. The pick he used while recording and on tour, it’s one of my most prized possessions.” He started haphazardly throwing coats onto the carpeted floor, scanning the comforter for his precious souvenir. You quickly decided he wasn’t as drunk as you first thought, given that he seemed to have all of his wits about him. And, if he was sloshed, he was certainly holding himself together much better than he usually did.

“And why exactly did you bring it here?”

“I had a gig tonight and I was nervous. That pick always gives me good luck, okay?”

That was almost…sweet. You had never thought Dewey Finn of all people would need help performing in front of a crowd. “Okay,” you finally said, throwing your feet off the bed, letting them dangle for a few seconds.

“Look, I know you hate me and everything but—”

“I’ll help you look,” you cut him off, standing up. For once, he wasn’t be a total douche, and you felt a little bad for him. Even if it was over a guitar pick.

The two of you scoured the room, throwing the remaining coats aside. Finally, Dewey found the pick buried deep in his own coat pocket, which ended up irritating you only slightly.

“Uh, thanks,” he said sheepishly, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, “For helping me look.”

“Don’t mention it,” you said, deadpanned, “Seriously. Don’t.” He couldn’t tell if you were kidding. Neither could you.

“Wanna go out onto the fire escape, ya know, for some air?” he asked, gesturing to the window facing the still busy city street, “That is, if you don’t want to push me to my untimely demise.”

“Don’t give me any ideas,” you say with a smirk, “But sure. Why not.”

The two of you crept out onto the fire escape gingerly, the air shocking your senses despite your tipsiness. However, it doesn’t do much to quell your anxiety.

“You really don’t like this shit, do you?” Dewey said, taking a gulp from his beer after scanning your demeanor.

“That obvious, huh?” you said dryly. He raised his eyebrows and nodded. “I…used to. I’m trying to again. It’s just…weird right now, I don’t know. I feel like I’m not myself here.” You turned from him, embarrassed, as you hugged your arms to guard you from the chill. It actually helped, or at the very least you convinced yourself that it did.

Dewey frowned. “Well, that’s no good.” He held his bottle over the railing precariously, watching it dangle five stories above the ground. “But hey, maybe when you get back to being yourself, you’ll finally see how awesome I am.”

You turned to face him, and punched him lightly on the shoulder in retaliation. He barked a laugh, and felt your guard falling. Maybe he wasn’t as terrible as you thought. And you were a little drunk. And he was also a little drunk. And you felt the sudden urge to kiss him.

You shook your head, ignoring the thought. But the way he was looking at you made your stomach do a somersault. It was a mix of morbid curiosity and genuine concern with a just a dash of flirty energy. A dangerous cocktail, really. Luckily, Dewey spoke again before you could do something you’d regret.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, bracing himself for a verbal assault, “but uh, every time I see you, you just seem so fuckin’ stressed. Have you tried, I don’t know, relaxing?”

You scoffed. Of course that would be his suggestion. He made everything sound so easy, didn’t he? “No, that never crossed my mind, Finn. How astute.” He shook his head, raising his arms in mock surrender. After so many spars over the years, you had never seen him give up on an opportunity to criticize you so quickly. You couldn’t help but grow a little suspicious.

“Hey, I said it earlier but I really think you’d benefit from letting loose a little, ya know?”

“And how do you suppose I do that?” you asked, your tone coming out more frustrated than you intended, “I’ve tried everything.”

A wicked smile spread across his face, “Well, not to be too obvious, but have you ever tried smoking?” He produced a small joint from his pocket, along with a black lighter decorated with red and orange flames.

You nodded your head, looking unenthused. “Tried it with Patty once in college. Didn’t work.” And it was true. Despite smoking what you considered far too much weed, you barely felt a thing aside from a slight bout of the munchies. What you thought would quell your nervousness only ended up resulting in a stomach ache.

“I doubt Patty had anything of substance,” he remarked, a smirk dancing on his lips, “I’m pretty sure a horse tranquilizer wouldn’t be able to mellow that woman out.” You couldn’t help but crack a smile. You usually found Dewey’s humor irritating, but you kept wondering if that was your own bias. Maybe you were just searching for reasons to despise him.

Still, you couldn’t trust yourself, not with the night you’d been having. “What’s the catch?” you asked, narrowing your eyes, “I thought we couldn’t stand each other, remember?”

“No catch,” he said, his voice shockingly devoid of sarcasm or snark, “Consider it even for helping me find my pick. Plus, I think we’d all benefit from you being high. At the very least, it’ll serve as my entertainment for the rest of the night.” You couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe you were too harsh on Dewey. Not that Patty didn’t have her own reasons for disliking him, but that didn’t mean you had to keep up your animosity when he had at least treated you like a human being since he entered the coat-ridden bedroom.

You stared at the joint apprehensively as he held in between his calloused fingers. He rolled his eyes, playfully this time. “This is the good shit, I promise,” he purred, waving the joint in front of your face, “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not in the slightest,” you mused, gnawing on your lower lip, “But when have I ever been right. Light me up, rock star.”

*

Far be it from you to admit when Dewey Finn was right. But holy shit. Whatever strain he had did the trick, because you actually felt yourself relaxing for the first time in months, even after just a few puffs.

You didn’t care that you had been outside for the better part of an hour; even more surprisingly, you didn’t care that you were sharing a joint with someone you thought you despised at the start of the night. “Okay, I’m not saying I’m gonna become a stoner now or anything like that but…” you drawled, hugging your arms to your chest, “That did help a bit. So…thanks.” You were already feeling the effects of the both the alcohol and weed wearing off, seeing as you only consumed small amounts of both. Still, you couldn’t help but appreciate Dewey’s attempt to help, despite your past dislike of one another.

Dewey couldn’t help but flash a wide smile, leaning on the railing of the fire escape. “Don’t mention it,” he said sweetly, “Or maybe do. I’d love to take credit for being the person who finally removed that stick lodged firmly up your a—”

Before he could finish the crude remark, you placed a hand on his broad chest, pushing him flush to the railing. “If you value your life, you won’t finish that sentence, Finn,” you threatened, your eyes darkening. Dewey’s widened in fear, if only for a moment. You were of course, unserious, but you didn’t mind making him squirm a bit.

You flashed a smug look and he instantly matched you playful yet aggressive energy. “Oh please, you wouldn’t send the life of the party tumbling to his death, would ya?” he clasped his hands together, mock begging for mercy, “I know you can’t hate me that much, babe.”

You shivered. You tried to write it off as the chill in the air finally catching up to you, but you knew that it was also from Dewey’s smooth talking. You noticed your hand was still pressed up against him as the space between you lessened.

“Well, no,” you relented, finally letting go of him, “I mean, you annoy the shit out of me most of the time but tonight has been…okay.”

“I’ll take okay.” The two of you sit in silence for a few minutes, an energy hanging in the air that you can’t quite place. You glanced over at him, goosebumps prickling up on his exposed forearms. “Since tonight has been so okay…mind if I ask why you were crying earlier?”

You felt your face go flush in embarrassment. You could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen, but it was clear he was more observant than you gave him credit for. “I guess, well…I haven’t been myself. For a while now. And I just don’t know if I belong here: in this city, with these people. Ned and Patty have been a part of my life for so long but…I don’t know. Maybe I’m better off somewhere else.”

Dewey nodded, casting his eyes towards Manhattan across the river. The two of you looked on, the sounds of the street filling the quiet you shared. The light pollution was illuminating the night sky despite it being nearly midnight. “For what it’s worth,” he sighs, “I don’t ever feel like I belong either. I just try to convince myself that I do, and hope everyone else follows.”

“Well, you’re damn good at it,” you remark, “Everyone loves you, Dewey.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, “Not Patty. Not my band. Not you.” His last words hang in the air awkwardly as he immediately goes red. At least you weren’t the only one feeling embarrassed that evening. “I didn’t mean—”

“I know what you mean,” you said, smiling with ease. Once you actually had a real conversation with him, you realized how freely you were able to speak to Dewey. “But for what it’s worth, I owe you an apology. I just always pegged you for an obnoxious deadbeat, but I guess we have more in common than I thought.”

“It’s okay. I may have also thought you were a lame ass wet blanket for years, but I’m willing to bury the hatchet if you are.” You both laughed at each other’s expense and suddenly, that urge returned. Only this time, you couldn’t blame it on the little alcohol you drank or even the weed. You just wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss Dewey Finn.

You felt your stomach churn at the thought. Sure, maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought, but were you so easily won over? Was he just charming you to end your little feud, or was he playing you? And even if he wasn’t messing with you, what the fuck would Ned and Patty say?!

“By the way,” he said in a low voice, snapping you out of your thought spiral, “I’ve seen a million Wednesday Addams costumes, but, uh, the goth girl thing works for you.”

“Oh yeah?” you said, holding back giggle. God, you felt like an idiot school girl around him now.

“Yeah,” he gulped, his face growing pink. Was it possible he was experiencing some of the same strange, conflicting feelings about you? From what you gathered over the years, it didn’t take much for Dewey to let his dick be in the driver’s seat when it came to decision making.

Feeling bold, you chose to throw some compliments his way, “Thanks,” you said, batting your eyelids, wondering how seductive you could possibly be when it looked like you were headed to a demented funeral, “You look good too. Green Day was one of my favorite bands growing up, so the Billy Joe costume was…definitely a sight to behold. In a good way, I mean.”

“Ah, so you were staring at me earlier?” Dewey raised an eyebrow, feeling extremely self-assured. You decided to let him inflate his own ego this one time, mostly because it made him more attractive all bloated with confidence.

“It’s possible,” you conceded, “But if you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”

He laughed brightly, and your stomach did another flip. “That’s okay. It’s reward enough to know you secretly have the hots for me.” You pursed your lips, scowling at him. You could barely admit these new feelings to yourself, there was no way in hell you were going to admit to Dewey that you wanted to pounce on him at that very moment. So instead, you decided to do what you had be doing for the last couple hours: deny, deny, deny.

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

“Do not!”

“Do. Too.” He inched closer to you, his gaze growing more intense with each passing millisecond. You felt your breath hitch suddenly in the back of your throat. And before you had any time to think, you sort of lunged at him, your lips catching his angrily, passionately. He tasted like cheap beer and tequila. A normally shudder-inducing combination, but you couldn’t get enough of it.

Though he knew he was egging you on, Dewey was still caught by surprise. Still, it didn’t take longer than a moment for him the wrap his arms around you, securing your body against his as he kissed you hungrily. Despite the weather outside being chilly and dry, his lips were soft and plump, and you couldn’t help but nip at them as he let out a faint, almost imperceptible moan. You felt your fingers tangle in his hair as his snaked to grip the side of your neck towards your jawline.

Once you realized what you had done, you broke away, looking Dewey dead in the eye, “You know this means nothing, right?” You could deal with your attraction to him later; for all you knew, this little incident would never be spoken of by the two of you ever again. Maybe that would be for the best.

Dewey blinked dumbly a few times, then smirked, “I’m sort of counting on it, babe.” He pulled you in again, his breath visible in the cold October air as it washed over you like a tiny puff of smoke. He couldn’t help but kiss you again, and perhaps stupidly, you kissed him back for a few seconds until his broke it, his smile sinful. “I won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal, rock star.”

*

Thanks for reading! Like/comment/reblog if you enjoyed!

Read the sequel here!

[storiesforallfandoms]

inspirational ~ corpse husband

word count: 1589

request?: yes!

“Hi! I was wondering if you could do a corpse husband imagine where the reader has a feeding tube? If you can’t that’s perfectly fine, I just haven’t been able to find one yet.”

description: in which the group plays with a popular streamer that has a feeding tube and corpse tells her how much she inspires him

pairing: corpse x female!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of chronic pain and cancer, also i only know a little bit about feedings tubes, i tried to do research in order to make myself more familiar but if there’s a lot of inaccuracies or anything i am very sorry i’m gonna try my best

masterlist (one, two)

Corpse listened to his friends shouting at one another to accuse each other of being sus. As usual, there was no use in trying to get a word in. Corpse spoke so softly that no one would even hear him unless they wanted to hear what he was saying.

“(Y/N)!” Toast suddenly exclaimed. “You’re being very quiet right now.”

“Because my damn tube is mixed up in my headphone wires!” (Y/N) exclaimed, sounding like she was far away from her mic. The group chuckled and continued with their conversation about who they thought the imposter was.

(Y/N) was a known Twitch streamer and YouTuber that rose to popularity when she started a series on her YouTube channel to show her journey through cancer treatments. Long before his own sudden boom in popularity, Corpse had watched all of her videos and became invested in her Twitch streams as well. Being someone who also struggled with chronic illness and pain, Corpse felt a sense of hope watching (Y/N) go through her treatment and still seem to optimistic in life and so productive in her YouTube and Twitch channels.

When Toast messaged the Amigops group to ask if anyone wanted to join his Among Us lobby with (Y/N), Corpse jumped at the chance. He hadn’t had much time to speak with her alone, but he was hoping to be able to tell her how much watching her content lifted him up during his worst times.

The meeting ended with no one being voted and brought them back to the office of the Polus map. Since they were playing with proximity chat, the argument from the meeting immediately continued with Rae and Toast warning everyone to stay away from Sean, who they were susing at the second imposter after already voting out Charlie.

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink astronaut run out of the office, silent amongst the chaos. He waited a moment before deciding to follow her, hoping he could meet her somewhere alone so he could talk to her.

He ran into O2 and noticed a pink bean in the boiler room stood by the water wheels. He ran in and stood in the doorway a moment before speaking.

“Hello (Y/N).”

“Ah fuck!” (Y/N) exclaimed. “Corpse! Don’t scare me like that!”

Corpse chuckled. “Sorry, I’ll warn you next time.”

“Are you here to kill me?”

“Maybe.”

“I’m okay with that. I feel like being killed by Corpse Husband in Among Us is like a rite of passage at this point.”

Corpse slowly approached (Y/N) to which she quickly ran away from him to the other water wheel. He laughed again before assuring her, “I’m not an imposter, you can trust me.”

“I don’t think I can, but I will choose to trust,” she told him.

“I actually came looking for you because I wanted to talk to you.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

There were so many things running through Corpse’s mind. He just wanted to blurt out everything he had thought about (Y/N) and her story, to thank her for giving him hope, to tell her what an inspiration she was. But his words caught in his throat and he struggled to get anything out.

Finally, he said, “What’s it like trying to be a streamer with your...with the um...”

“The feeding tube?” (Y/N) finished for him. “You can say it, Corpse. It’s not exactly a secret.”

He sighed, glad that she had a joking tone about it. “Yeah, with the feeding tube.”

“It’s annoying,” (Y/N) admitted. “Like...I’m assuming you’ve seen my streams or my videos but for the sake of anyone watching your stream who hasn’t: I have a nasogastric feeding tube, or an NG-tube, which is a feeding tube that goes in through the nose. As cliché as it is, just picture Hazel Grace from the Fault in our Stars. Additional cliché, I have it because I had cancer and the treatments left me so malnourished that I need a feeding tube even after I’ve gone into remission. So, because it’s tubes that are connected in my nose, I keep getting my headphone wires tangled in my tube or, very rarely, my mic wires, and it’s fucking annoying. It hurts like a bitch when I go to stand up and I yank the wires  by accident or something.”

“Does...does anything else hurt? Because of the cancer or the treatment or anything?”

“Not as much as it used to. I went into remission like nearly a year ago, so I’m doing better. It’s a process, but it’s had an amazing outcome in the end so I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“I find you really inspirational,” Corpse finally blurted.

He felt his face heat up with slight embarrassment as (Y/N) giggled. “You do?”

“Yeah. I followed your series about your recovery and I’ve watched some of your livestreams every now and then. What always stood out to me was when you talked about the negative side effects of your treatment, and eventually having to put the feeding tube in and how you’ve found that effects you, too. Being someone with chronic illness and constant pain, I’ve also had those days where it feels like even getting out of bed is too much work and I don’t feel like I can stream or make a video, but then my anxiety tells me that everyone is going to forget about me if I don’t make some type of content, so it’s just an internal struggle when really I should be resting.”

“Being a content creator and having an illness is tough,” (Y/N) agreed. “It feels like you can’t take a day off. I sometimes regret making that series because on days that I felt absolutely awful, I didn’t want to film or edit anything, but I felt like I had to because so many people were watching. Ironically enough, that became the topic of one of those videos; I just sat in front of my camera looking the worst I think I’ve ever looked on camera and talked about how exhausted I felt just from being alive, but felt like I couldn’t rest because of my channel. That’s when I started taking longer breaks between videos and streaming. Your fans won’t leave you, not the true fans anyways. They’ll always be by your side even if you decide to disappear from the Internet forever.”

Corpse half smiled to himself. “I’ve thought about doing that sometimes.”

“It’ll be easy for you to do that where you’re faceless. No one would bother you even after you left the Internet cause they’d have no idea it was you unless you spoke.”

A brief pause in their conversation caused them to hear Sean yelling as he ran past the room. (Y/N) giggled and walked out of the room. Corpse followed, hoping to continue the conversation somewhere else.

“It means a lot to me that you think that about me, though,” (Y/N) continued as she ran into the storage room. “I find you pretty inspirational too.”

This took Corpse by surprise. He didn’t know how to respond. Sure, he heard that all the time from his fans, and it always meant the world to him to know that people found him to be an inspiration, but it felt different to hear that from someone he had looked up to for so long.

“I wish I could’ve been a faceless creator like you,” she said when Corpse didn’t respond. “One of my biggest regrets is probably showing my face online. Although, it wouldn’t make sense for me not to show my face when I’m making a series about cancer treatment, but people can be mean. Even when someone is struggling with illness or a disease, the Internet doesn’t care. Whatever makes them feel better over someone else feeling like shit.”

“I still get a lot of hateful messages even though I’m faceless, though.”

“You do, but you’re so unbothered by it. Publicly anyways. When I get messages about how sickly I look I get so overwhelmed with sadness and I just wanna delete my channel forever. I can’t even fake not caring because it really does effect me.”

“Stick with me, I’ll teach you my ways. My favorite is trolling the troll.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “I’d like that a lot.”

Corpse watched (Y/N)’s pink bean approach his black one. “I’m glad we had this chat, Corpse. It made me really happy, but now it also makes doing this a lot harder.”

Corpse gasped as a kill animation popped up on the screen and (Y/N)’s astronaut quickly disappeared into the nearby vent. He was stunned into silence for a long time, just watching his ghost floating above his dead body. To make matters worse, (Y/N) had closed the door to storage so no one would find his body unless they had to go in there.

Charlie’s ghost floated through the walls and came to float next to Corpse’s. “Figured out Jack wasn’t the other imposter, huh?”

“Yeah,” Corpse said, laughing. “She really had me fooled. Buttered me up with compliments then killed me.”

“I taught her well,” Charlie comments before floating away again.

Corpse couldn’t help but laugh about the situation. He wasn’t mad, more impressed than anything. And he was a little happy; he got to talk to someone that had always been an inspiration to him and he made a new friend.

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I’m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

                                                            *  *  *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

                                                              *  *  *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat

[broadstbroskis]

no better company than you | nathan mackinnon

a/n: alright, i’m rolling in late for @antoineroussel oussel summer exchange (thank you love, for running such a lovely exchange again, it was wonderful and i’m glad i was able to particiapte) and i’m very sorry for the lateness! i had the pleasure of writing for the lovely @ghstandpucks​ 💜 again, i am SO sorry about the wait but i hope you enjoy this! 

word count: 3.2k

-----

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I’m late!” You slide into the booth and throw your bag down next to you, hoping to god you don’t look as frazzled as you feel; this restaurant is far too nice.

Nate just smiles at your words, too familiar with your family by now to know that you’re always running 5-10 minutes behind. He’s ordered a bottle of wine- a nice rosé, fitting for the beautiful end of summer day- and had already started pouring a matching glass for you the second you started sitting down. “How’d the interview go?”

You bite your lip. “Eh.” 

“I’m sure it went better than you think.” Nate says encouragingly. “You’re too hard on yourself. All three of you are.”

And well, that’s not a lie. Your siblings were just as critical of themselves as you were. Sid was famously known for it and Taylor, your twin, was as bad as you. But…

“Listen to you!” You laugh at him. Nate’s just as bad as the three of you. A mini-Sid in many ways, to many people in your hometown.

But that was in Canada. This was Denver. And here, Nate was cool. Laid-back. Lowkey. Everything a professional athlete should be. Nobody knew about what a dork he really was, except his teammates.

And now, maybe you too, if all went well with this job interview.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nate says, looking at his menu to feign ignorance.

You giggle, pulling your own up toward your face. “Sure, buddy.”

It’s not often that you and Nate spend time one on one like this, even if you see him all the time over the summer. He’s usually with your brother when you see him, politely trying to decline your mom’s invites to dinner or already hanging at Sid’s house when you invite yourself over to your brother’s house for pool or lake time. Usually time one on one with Nate like this is brief, usually like in passing while he’s waiting for Sid in the kitchen while you’re eating.

It’s nice. Nate’s funnier than people give him credit for and it’s easy to relax into dinner and conversation, to forget about the anxiety from your interview as you chat about what’s new for both of you and gossip about people you both know.

By the time he drops you off at your hotel, it’s late and you’re too tired (and maybe just on the right side of tipsy) to even worry about the interview. You just barely change into pajamas, run through your nightly routine, and climb into bed, before shutting the lights off. It feels like you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillow. 

In the morning, you’re awoken by the sound of your phone ringing, and it takes a second for you to place the sound, but when you do you pounce on it, recognizing the local area code immediately. “Good morning.” You say, trying your hardest not to sound like you woke up literally thirty seconds ago.

It’s human resources, from the job you interviewed for yesterday.

You got it.

-----

“Ew, no!” Your dad holds his hands up innocently, when you rush over to stop him from unpacking a box. “Why would you put that there?”

“Hey, sweetie, maybe it’s time for a break.” Your mom says gently, exchanging a look with your dad, who nods his agreement enthusiastically.

Which is fair. You’d just about almost taken his fingers off just because you didn’t like where he was unpacking colanders. 

“Dinner!’” Your dad latches onto immediately. “Nate offered to take us all out tonight, I’ll let him know we’re ready.”

“Ready?” You frown, looking down at your workout shorts and baggy t-shirt.

“We’ll be ready in an hour.” He amends, already texting Nate.

Nate knocks on the door to the new condo you’re renting an hour and fifteen minutes later, sheepishly grinning when your dad tells him that you and your mom still need a few minutes. “Thought I had my timing perfect.”

Your dad snorts. “Oh buddy. Keep dreaming.”

He’s not too off on his timing, but unfortunately for Nate, you don’t have too much else going for you in your condo yet. Your dad had gotten your TV all set up, but in addition to the TV and living room furniture, you haven’t gotten much else, and that includes food and beverages. So the two of them sit in mostly silence while they wait another few minutes for you and your mom to finish getting ready. 

“I told you that you should have just met us there.” You tell Nate, as he trips on a box on his way out the door.

“Oh, so this wasn’t deliberate sabotage?” He deadpans.

“You caught me. Just trying to keep you around the city full time until I have time to make better friends.”

Nate laughs, as the two of you follow your parents out the door. “Be nicer to me or I won’t introduce you to my friends.”

“Who said I want to be friends with your friends?”

“Children.” Your mom turns to look back at you and Nate smiles at her innocently, but it’s been a while since that’s fooled her. “Do we need to stay home?”

It serves to get the two of you moving, even as you laugh at her joke. Nate drives you to another one of his favorite restaurants, and dinner flies by, with Nate insisting on picking up the tab, even when your dad tries to fight him on it. 

It’s started to cool down a little by the time you’re walking back toward the car, Nate and your dad still fake-fighting about paying for dinner, and you find yourself not realizing you’re smiling at the two of them as you walk behind them until your mom bumps your shoulder. “A few hours off for dinner with some good company was just what you needed.” She says.

And even though the smile on her face seems too knowing, you’re too tired to ask about it right now, so you just nod in agreement. “Yeah, this was nice.” You smile back at her.

-----

Mel Landeskog pokes her head around the corner and you wave at her, trying to catch her attention. “Jesus Christ.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t think he was serious.”

“I mean.” You bite your lip. “I did have to work today.”

“I would have picked you up!” She shakes her head, muttering under her breath, and you know Nate’s going to get an earful from her later. “But no, no. That dumbass just let you come all the way over here by yourself. Sends me a text to come meet you by the door. All casual.”

“I mean.” You send her a look. “Did you expect anything different from Nate?”

It’s the way she looks at you and sets her face that almost has you nervous for Nate. You’ve known Mel for a long time now, but really, you don’t know her from more than just years of NHL events. “I do now.” She says.

You hope Nate knew what he was getting himself into sending Mel a text to come find you earlier.  

Once she leads you up into the box with some of the wives and kids, she’s back to smiling and laughing, making introductions all around. The mood all around is light and easy, everyone excited for the home opener of the season, and happy to be back with everyone again. 

It’s fun to be back in this atmosphere. Hockey’s been a part of your life for so long and there’s truly nothing like the energy of the first game of the season. You feed off the energy, catching up with some familiar faces and chatting with all the other girls, probably too excited when they invite you to a girl’s night later in the week, but it feels good to have plans that don’t involve trying to invite yourself to Nate’s when you’re bored.

“Hey, good job tonight.” You nudge him afterwards, catching up with him in the family room.

He laughs, pulling you in for a hug. “A little different than what you were used to?”

“It lived up to the hype, I guess.”

“I’ll turn you from a Pens fan.” Nate promises. 

It’s your turn to laugh. “Feel Sid’s wrath.”

“What’s he going to do? Check me into the boards? Bring it.”

Nate’s been hanging out with your brother and your family for years now, so he should really know better by now. “Okay, buddy.” You pat his shoulder patronizingly. “Sure.”

“I could take him.” Nate insists. 

“Throw hands. Next game. I dare you.” 

He side-eyes you, because you both know that’s not going to happen and it’s only a minute before you’re both laughing. 

“I better see you on Friday!” Ashley Kadri shouts out to you as she’s walking past with Naz and Naylah, interrupting your laughter. “No excuses!”

“I’ll be there!” You call back. “Promise!”

When you look back, Nate’s pouting-exaggerated, albeit, but pouting. “Are you ditching me this Friday?”

“Yup. Found better company.”

“How dare you?” He cries. “There is no better company.”

“Well.” You shrug. “I’ll know for sure after happy hour on Friday.”

“Find your own ride home.” Nate says and then he starts speed walking away from you at an absurd speed.

“Nate!” You protest, jogging to catch up and he finally slows down enough for you to catch up when you round the corner, bumping your shoulder right back when you purposely bump into him in retaliation.

-----

No one lets loose like a group of moms when they’ve got a night without their kids.

Someone has mentioned this to you before, at a bachelorette party or a wedding or something, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen it really in action before until this happy hour. 

“If the waitress comes back, order me another drink!” Kerry calls, before running off to the bathroom.

The waitress nods at her, before addressing the rest of you. “Another round?”

“Oh, please!” Mel nods quickly and repeatedly.

“Can we get a few more orders of mozzarella sticks too, please?” You look down at the empty plates in front of you. “And maybe some nachos too?”

“Yes!” Jackie lights up across from you. “Great call!”

It pretty much only goes downhill from there and by the end of the night, both Mel and Ashley are crying for reasons no one is sure of entirely and you’re pretty grateful to see Nate among the group of husbands and boyfriends to come to pick up all their girlfriends.

So grateful you scream his name the second you see him. “Nate!”

He winces, trying to pull his ear away from you, but he’s laughing. “Guess you had a good time, huh?”

“Uh huh!” You nod enthusiastically, not realizing how loud you are until he winces again.

Nate laughs. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.”

You gasp loudly. “I can’t leave my new friends!”

“Your new friends are all leaving you!”

You frown, but look around and realize he’s right. Naz has already sneakily pulled Ashley out of the bar and Gabe and Erik were collecting Mel and Jackie’s things. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Nate parrots. “Come on, get your stuff, crazy girl.”

“Hey!” You protest, grabbing your purse. “I am the least crazy person in my family.”

“I hate to break it to you.” Nate says, as he guides you into standing. “But that’s not saying much.”

He’s right, but you bump him with your shoulder anyway as you walk past. That’s about sibling honor and shit.

Nate parked too far away and by the time you reach his car, you’re leaning on him, the adrenaline from hanging out with friends wearing off quickly. Nate’s nice about it, guiding you to his car and then helping you into his front seat before heading around to the driver’s side. 

“You guys had a fun time then?” Nate says, once he’s started driving and you’re half asleep leaning against the window. “Looks like it at least.”

“Yeah.” You nod sleepily. “But you were right.”

He chuckles. “About what?”

“There’s no better company than you.”

-----

Nate becomes pretty clingy after that night, texting and facetiming whenever he’s out of town, and stopping by pretty much anytime he’s got a free minute. It quickly becomes something you look forward to, missing his visits when he’s out of town and looking forward to his calls, smiling when his texts come in and breaking up your work day. And it isn’t long before you realize that you’re being just the same. Sending him messages before and after games. Inviting yourself over for dinner and making Nate cheat on his diet.

In a blessed move from the NHL scheduling department, Sid and the rest of the Pens are scheduled to arrive in town on a Friday morning and aren’t leaving until the end of the weekend. 

They have a practice scheduled for early afternoon, which is perfect for you to wrap up your work day before heading over to watch the end.

Geno lights up when he sees you watching from the glass, the first person to acknowledge you, and skating over in the middle of the drill, leaving behind two shocked linemates. “Mini!” He shouts cheerfully, even as you roll your eyes at your least favorite nickname. All because you happen to be the shortest of your siblings. “Great to see you.”

“You too, Geno.” You smile warmly at him, a little annoyed that you can’t get a giant bear hug from your favorite pseudo-older brother right away. “But I don’t think a few other people feel the same right now.” You jerk your chin back over his shoulder. 

He turns his head quickly but then looks back. “Psh. They’ll get over it.”

You bust out laughing, which is right about when your brother comes over, and in classic Sid fashion, is all about hockey. “Stop being a distraction.”

“I was minding my own business until Geno came over here!” You protest, even as Geno starts laughing and Sid eyes you skeptically. 

“Why don’t I believe that one?” Sid says dryly and sure, maybe you were making faces at some of the guys you knew well as they were passing you, but you weren’t actively being a distraction.

“That’s your prerogative.” You tell Sid, who shakes his head and pulls Geno back for the remainder of practice. 

Practice doesn’t last for too much longer and you spend a few minutes chatting with the coaching staff while you wait for Sid to change. But he and Geno finally come out of the locker room and you stop mid-sentence to throw yourself at your brother.

Sid’s laughing and so are you, but both of you start laughing even harder when Geno pulls you both into his arms. “Two of my favorite people!”

“Taylor’s going to be so offended.” Kris grins, watching the three of you amused.

“Taylor?” You grin back at him, going for a hug once Geno releases you. “How about his wife and kid?”

“Those are my other favorite people.” Geno reasons.

“Now I’m offended.” Kappy deadpans.

“You’re not even close.” Geno grins, roughing his hair.

Kappy tries to get him right back, but Geno just swats his hand away and then Sid’s shaking his head, like this is just the same shit, different day. “Look what you did.”

You grin, leaning against him. “Not sorry. I’ve missed this entertainment.”

Sid shakes his head. “Then you can round them up for dinner.”

You do. Easily.

Nate had suggested one of the team’s favorite restaurants and you’re happy to see that he’d accepted your invitation to join everyone, even if he rolls in a little late. You’re deep into Kris’ camera roll, looking at pictures of his kids and catching up on stories that you haven’t heard about them recently, so you don’t even notice he’s arrived and said hello already until he blows on the back of your neck.

You jump. “What the hell?”

Nate’s grinning. “Hey.”

You shake your head at him and bump your shoulders against him. “Hey.” You mimic and then turn right back to Kris.

But your shoulder stays leaning on Nate, and it remains there comfortably all night.

-----

Sid���s a little cranky when you first meet him for breakfast the morning after the game and you’re sure it has everything to do with the last minute turnover that cost them the game (and bragging rights over Nate this summer, which is really what he’s probably cranky about).

He gets over it pretty quickly though, and soon the two of you are laughing and talking, catching up about your family and your lives.

“-and I even love my office, the vibes are just great!”

Sid shakes his head. “Vibes.”

You grin. You know he hates that word. “Good vibes.” You confirm.

“So you’re liking Denver?”

“Love it.” You confirm, smiling.

“Meeting good people?”

You eye him skeptically. “Yes dad. I already said my coworkers are great and I’ve been hanging out with Nate and his friends a lot too. It’s good”

“Geno thinks there’s something going on between you and Nate.” Sid says casually.

The jump of your heart is far from casual. “Oh yeah?”

Sid eyes you but his response to that is surprising. “You know if there was something going on between you and Nate that would be okay?” He pauses, watching you again, but your face is completely neutral, purposely not moving. “Right?”

“You know if there was something going on between me and Nate that your opinion wouldn’t matter at all, right?”

He grins, laughing as he nods, but after he takes a bite of pancakes he says, “To you, yeah. To him, it does.”

“Why?” You blurt out, giving yourself away before you can stop yourself.

But Sid doesn’t say anything to that. He grins again and then changes the subject entirely.

-----

You only make it about a day before you’re knocking on Nate’s door, pretty forcefully.

“What’s up?” He swings the door open, with a frown. “You okay?”

“Does what my brother thinks really matter to you that much?” You blurt out. It’s been bothering you ever since Sid mentioned it at breakfast. That you lasted this long was probably a miracle.

Nate blushes and your jaw drops. “It-”

“Oh my god.” You grin delightedly. “Come on, really?”

“That’s not-” He blows out a frustrated sigh. “You’re really going to make me say it?”

You nod, but you’re pretty sure he’s not going to get far into what he’s going to say.

He sighs again. “It’s not about, like, his approval, or shit. It’s just- he’s important to you. So obviously he’s important to me-”

You kiss him. 

“You know that you don’t even have to worry about that, right?” At some point, you’d slid one hand to his hip and the other arm around his neck, and the hand there plays with the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I’ll argue about that with you later.” Nate says impatiently and so you’re laughing when he kisses you again.

[irrelevantwriter]

House Call

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, reader being scared and horny, Rio’s BDE (y'all know what's up)

Word Count: 4.2K

Summary: Part 1. Rio shows up unannounced to talk business. Among other things. 

A/N: It’s here...it’s happening. It took me a whole 2.5 seconds to become obsessed with Rio once I started watching GG. Ya’ll know how I roll. Anyway, this is me just dipping my toe into the water. I didn't get too deep with a plot (spoiler alert: there isn't any). It’s essentially just reader-insert into the show’s current plot, but with some smut thrown in. For fun. I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Added a Part 2! Read it here.

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

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

“You okay?”

The sound of your friend’s concerned voice filled the line, pulling you back to the moment and the conversation you’d been engaged in before you’d burnt yourself in the spray of hot water.

“Yeah, just washing dishes.” You explained, cradling your cell between your shoulder and cheek as you maneuvered dirty dishes under the spout of water.

“So the meeting with the principal? How’d it go?” Rachel asked, getting you back on track.

You sighed, beginning to scrub at a stubborn coffee stain left behind on one of your favorite mugs.

“Fine. The kids are still having a hard time with the divorce so it’s…” You paused, unsure of how to describe the child-like brooding your son and daughter had taken to participating in since you’d separated from their father.

“Tense? Difficult? Weird?” Rachel listed off helpfully.

“All of the above.” You deadpanned, still scrubbing.

“You take the rest of the day off?”

“Yeah, I’ve gotta figure out what I’m going to do with these kids. Paul said he’d come over later to talk it over.”

“How incredibly thoughtful of him.” Rachel replied, sarcasm and disdain dripping from her words.

“Well, it’s a start. And as much as I’d like to tell him to fuck off, I can’t. He’s still their dad.” You explained for the hundredth time, feeling the stress of your situation with your ex starting to creep into your body. Your shoulders felt stiff and your head began to throb with a dull ache. It was a familiar reaction these days. One you loathed.

You opened your mouth to steer the conversation elsewhere when the doorbell rang, chiming throughout the empty expanse of your home.

“Paul?” Rachel asked, obviously hearing the alert of someone’s company over the phone.

“I guess. Look, I’ll call you later.” You said with another sigh, this one more tired than annoyed. You gave up on the stained mug and moved onto drying it, shutting the water off as you did.

“Okay. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” You ended the call, aware that you were short with her, but unable to feel sorry for it. You had plenty of other things to worry about, none of which involved your shitty ex or his new girlfriend.

You placed your cell on the counter and turned to make your way to the entryway, mug still clutched in your hand. The ceramic cup dropped to the floor and shattered into pieces when you saw who was already in your kitchen. You gasped, clutching your chest and yelping at the familiar man in black, the dark ink splattered across his throat the first thing you noticed. Your heart leapt, your body going rigid at the unexpected visit. Pop-ups like this were never a good sign.

“I let myself in.” Rio supplied, voice low and thick with authority and charm. He wore a smirk, lips upturned at your surprised reaction. He always seemed amused by you. That fact only served to unsettle you further.

“What’re you doing here?” You managed to say between shaky breaths, fear making your own voice quiver.

“Just checking in, mama. Can’t I do that?” He challenged with his arms spread wide, daring you to say otherwise.

You didn’t.

You went to move around the large kitchen island but the shards of broken mug prevented you from getting far on bare feet. Rio took notice and strode towards you, all clean lines and hooded eyes. He had a swagger about him that radiated. It sent a clear message about the kind of man he was. Confident. Skilled. Smart. There was an ease in his movements, but a beast lay in wait inside, ready to strike when the need arose.

His piercing gaze took in your dress, uncaring of being discreet or polite. He appraised you from the tips of your painted toes to the top of your head. It was as unnerving as it was thrilling. He crowded your space. He always did. While the scent of him filled your nostrils. Something spicy, but pleasing. It sat in your nose, and you knew from previous experience that you’d smell it for hours after.

You swallowed, wanting to avoid his close proximity. You hastily bent down to gather what you could of the jagged pieces, moving around his sneaker-clad feet that stood before you. You tried to ignore his presence, tried to appear calm and composed. It was an uphill battle. The man always knew how to throw you off. He knew how to keep people on their toes. It was yet another facet of him that you both coveted and despised.

You hissed, feeling the edge of one of the shards dig into the tip of your finger. You stood and sucked the tip into your mouth, trying to clear the area of the blood that had started to surface. His eyes were on you, watching you with interest and a certain level of lust that you didn’t allow yourself to explore. You stiffened when he reached for your wrist and pulled your finger away from your lips. He inspected the cut, his flesh warm and soft against yours. It was a side of him that eclipsed the man you’d come to know over the last several months.

“It’s not bad. I’ll be fine.” You whispered, attempting to pull your hand free of his. It was futile.

“Band aid?”

“Uh...yeah. In that drawer. Next to the stove.” You pointed in the direction of the drawer, holding your breath as he retrieved the item. This time, you watched him. Watched as he unwrapped the bandage and tended to your finger with all the care of a parent with their child. He held the appendage steady as he got ready to wrap it, but he stopped himself. He locked eyes with you instead, making you shiver.

“I make you nervous.”

It was a statement. A very true statement. And yet you found yourself shaking your head; ironic because your voice felt too unsteady to use.

Your heart stopped when he placed a tender kiss to the cut. The air around you crackled with heat and tension. It was unlike any feeling you’d ever been subjected to before. It was danger mixed with primal fascination...attraction. And it called to you like a raft in a sea of treacherous waves.

He ignored your silent response and sealed the band aid over your finger, ensuring the ends were smooth against your skin. He didn’t let go of you.

“Don’t lie to me, okay? Trust is an important thing. And we’ve gotta have it if we wanna keep doing business together.”

His calm demeanor and gentle chastising made you a puddle of obedience. Your need to please wasn’t just born from fear. It was something you’d been unable to come to terms with until now. You saw it for what it truly was. You wanted to please him. In as many ways as he’d let you.

You nodded in response, agreeing to his statement.

“Let’s try it again then, yeah?” He started, eyes roaming your face. “I make you nervous, don’t I?”

“The constant threat of my life makes it difficult for me to be calm.” You said, choosing to still be untruthful. 

You forced yourself not to fidget as his stare scorched your skin. His black eyes roamed across the open expanse of your collarbone and to the modest neckline of your wrap dress. He licked his lips as he focused on the measured breaths of your chest, your breasts rising with each pass.

“That’s not the only reason.” He retorted with a shake of his head. He leaned in close, noses almost touching as he spoke. “Don’t move.”

You said nothing as he bent down, continuing your failed task of picking up the broken bits of ceramic. You observed him dutifully gathering each piece, piling them into one large hand. His face looked pensive, as if he was trying to solve an equation in his head. You leaned against the island for support and bit your lip, unwilling to give into the lecherous thoughts that haunted you at night and managed to infiltrate your dreams.

“Nice dress.”

His compliment made you pause, looking down to meet that familiar smirk. He’d set what was left of the mug onto the counter, the floor relatively clear of large fragments. His fingers now played with the hem of said dress, the flowy material dancing in the air and away from your body.

“Thanks.”

Your voice was small. The apprehension so clear that you could both taste it. He found it funny. You found it humiliating.

He slowly straightened, taking the fabric with him as he gathered it to just above your knees.

“Color looks good on you.”

Again, the juvenile warmth of his praise sent you reeling further into anxiety’s waiting arms. Inwardly, you were responding to every lick of his lips and quirk of his eyebrow. Your thighs shifted restlessly against each other, waiting for that satiation that you hadn’t felt in forever. Outwardly though, you remained as skittish as a wild horse. You were as much on the edge of pleasure as you were on retreating.

“Thanks.” You said with a pleasant smile, wanting to conceal the yearning that bubbled just under the surface. You smoothed out the hunter-green fabric that rested against your abdomen, hoping to urge his hands away from you and the dress.

No such luck.

Instead, he ran his fingers up your skirt and along the outside of your thighs and hips, almost meeting the edge of your lace panties. Your traitorous body showed its hand, your nipples hardening in eagerness. Rio’s gaze predictably caught the action. And his face showed his approval.

“How long you been divorced?”

You furrowed your brows in confusion at his sudden curiosity. But the switch in topic had you alert again and somewhat clear of the fog he was so insistent on throwing you into.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything?” You questioned, stepping back from his body.

His hands fell away from you finally, but they didn’t stay idle for long. They skimmed over your hips, pressing your backside into the edge of the kitchen island.

“Answer me, mama.” He demanded, head craning down to meet your eyes. The intensity of his stare made you shift on your feet. He had an amazing poker face. A skill that left you envious.

“Two years.” You dutifully supplied, leaning backwards every inch that he moved in.

“It’s been that long then.” He commented with a nod, a finger tracing along the neckline of your dress, hovering just above your cleavage.

“That long for what?” You asked, taking note of the subtle ways in which his face changed. There was no trace of the teasing, light-hearted flirting that you’d become accustomed to seeing from him. He was serious. Almost as serious as the times he’d threatened your life. His touch was more insistent, telling you what he wanted rather than hinting. His mouth lowered to your ear, his nose brushing against your neck in a far too erotic manner. Your fingers itched to anchor yourself to him. You denied the request.

“Since someone stretched you out.”

A gasp caught in your throat, though you didn’t know if it was more from his words or his touch. He’d managed to slip a hand under your dress, tracing the crotch of your panties with a dexterous finger as he spoke.

“Wh-what do you mean?” You stammered, knuckles tightening against the edge of the counter you were currently gripping.

“I mean…” Rio started, lips brushing against the shell of your ear with each syllable. His finger barely teased your slit, but his voice more than compensated for the lack of physicality. “You haven’t had someone here,” He emphasized the word with a firm press of his finger against the soaked material that hid your clit from view. “In two years. Maybe more.”

You whimpered, biting your lip as he continued to manipulate your body. Your head screamed at you to stop, to pull away. But the sensation of his body pressed so firmly to yours was far too comforting to deny.

“You don’t know that.” You attempted, though the effort was obviously pointless. It was true. Since your separation and subsequent divorce from Paul, you’d barely been on a date, much less had sex. Your body was fiending for it...for him. And he knew it.

He scoffed, finding amusement in your words. He pressed his finger along the same dampened area, seeing your eyes roll into the back of your head. He licked his lips when your hand shot out to grasp at his wrist.

“Yeah, I do.” He affirmed with a nod, finger still teasing over your lace-covered slit. “He stepped out on you, didn’t he?” He continued, his eyes taking stock of the way you responded to his touch.

You had trouble focusing on the conversation he insisted on having while his hand was up your dress and practically in your underwear. You didn’t feel the need to supply an answer anyway. He already had all the information he needed.

“He didn’t deserve you.”

You were jolted back to reality by his words, straightening your spine and pushing his hand from between your legs.

“And what? You do?” You threw back, agitation seeping into your tone. You felt like he was patronizing you. He was always one step ahead. Always aware of the skeletons in your closet before you were.

“Never said that.” He said with a shake of his head, not stepping out of your space. His hands were off your body now, but the stains they’d left on you would remain there. They wouldn’t easily be erased. And you weren’t entirely sure that you wanted them to be.

“Why are you here?” You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

“Business.”

“A simple call or text works for that.”

“Wanted to come in person.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. He wore an expression of smugness, as if he knew something you didn’t, which was often the case.

“What do you want then?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” He retorted swiftly, lips pulled into a thin line.

The seriousness was back, his eyes nearly swallowing you as all humor became sucked from the room. The nerves in your stomach came back full force, the fear aiding them in their efforts. He was challenging you, apparently done with your lying.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to even begin. He was too intimidating. Just too much.

“I-I can’t.” You finished lamely, shaking your head and looking down at your feet.

He tilted your chin up, his mouth only centimeters from yours as he dared you to move.

“Just say the word.” He rasped against your lips, his free hand cradling your cheek.

You let yourself stare back, taking in his dark lashes and the angles of his face. He confused you on many levels, angered you beyond belief. He made your life a living hell. And yet, you wanted him more than anything. More than the money and the thrill of crime. And somehow he was privy to it all. And he wanted to give it to you.

So you were going to let him.

“Kiss me.” You breathed out, your hands finally coming to rest on his chest.

He needed no further encouragement. His mouth settled over yours in a tangle of lips and tongues. He tasted like mint, his lips much softer than they looked. The scratch of his facial hair only added to the moment as you pressed further into him, asking him to take more.

He did.

His hands were rough, but not unpleasant as they trailed along your body. They had the marks of healed scars. Not to mention the blood of those who chose to cross him. They were everywhere and all at once. Your breasts, your neck, your waist, your ass. He kneaded where he knew you yearned for more and tenderly stroked the areas in between. You struggled to keep up as his hips pushed into yours, his own yearning making its presence known.

“We shouldn’t do this.” You managed to say between heavy breaths, Rio’s mouth attaching to your neck and sucking near your throbbing pulse.

“Why not?” He mumbled into your skin, hands unwilling to slow down.

“Things will get complicated.”

He pulled himself away from the crook of your neck, his thumb running over your kiss-swollen pout.

“Yeah, they will.” He said with a chuckle, that devilish smirk staring back at you.

It was all a blur after that.

Limbs intertwined together as you worked on the buckle of his pants while he pushed your dress up and over your hips this time. He harshly pulled the lace away, the elastic snapping against your thighs as it got caught before making its way to the floor. Your mouths didn’t separate, not even when he lifted you onto the counter. He pulled one side of your dress away, exposing the matching bra you wore underneath. Your pebbled nipples called to him and he responded, massaging the flesh with expert precision. You moaned and writhed like a woman possessed. Like a woman that hadn’t been laid in two years.

“Feels good?”

The roughened gravel of his voice made your walls spasm, the hint of self-assuredness causing a wave of arousal to seep from within you. You could only nod, wordlessly pleading with him to continue on. His touch ventured south to your spread thighs. You widened them, allowing him access to the place you needed him the most. He didn’t disappoint.

His fingers were long and probing as they penetrated your sex, slipping easily in. You gasped at the fullness, the stretch around him making your eyes squeeze shut. He let your body guide him as he rubbed at your clit, his fingers curling against your walls.

“I’m...god...I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, only somewhat embarrassed by the suddenness of your climax.

He worked hard and faster. Your nails dug into his back, your mouth landing on his shoulder as you struggled to not cry out. You bit down when the euphoria of orgasm washed over you, trapping his hand within you. He could feel every tremor he brought forth as you shook in his arms. It felt like it lasted for hours, your body unwilling to let the feeling be a fleeting moment in time.

“You still with me?” He asked, lips pressed to your temple.

You nodded, hissing when he removed his fingers from the confines of your body. You watched, feeling as if you were in a daze. He shifted his pants and boxers down, revealing his length to your ravenous eyes. The hand that had been so deeply embedded in you now wrapped around himself. He was long and hard, as rigid as his hands. You felt like a moth to a flame, hand reaching out to feel if he was real. He was.

You swiped your finger over the tip of him and were overcome with wanton pride at feeling the moisture that sat there. His jaw clenched in a way that you’d only ever seen him do in anger. He didn’t allow you to continue. In an instant he was wedged between your thighs, his body already pushing into your waiting sex. Even with the climax from his fingers, he was a tight fit. You both expelled breaths, his a mumbled curse and yours a throaty moan. You shut your eyes as a new burst of pleasure radiated from your core and traveled up your spine. There was only a brief moment of intimacy as he sat unmoving within you, letting your body adjust to him.

It was short-lived.

“Fuck...” He cursed as he began to fuck you into the counter, hands holding your hips in place.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he lavished yours with kisses and bites, each thrust of his hips causing his teeth to graze your skin. The chill of the marble countertop beneath your bare ass cooled your overheated skin. You bit your lip so hard you could taste blood as he filled you over and over, each pass making your walls accept more of him. He was deep and hitting that gloriously elusive spot that sat within your womb. 

He cupped your breasts while you scraped your nails down his back, hearing him growl in response. The sound made you yearn to hear more. So, you did something you’d always wanted to do...you licked the ink on his throat. You decorated his skin with tantalizing kisses, your tongue aiding your actions. He shivered against your lips, the reaction making your walls clench around him. He was, at least for the moment, a slave to your ministrations. And it was a high unlike any drug you’d ever encountered.

It was animalistic fucking at its finest. He hit every nerve, soothed every ache. The union of your bodies was enough to send you sailing off the proverbial cliff, but his touch kept you tethered to solid ground, longing for more. He rocked his hips mercilessly into you, making your back arch at an almost painful angle.

“Right there, huh?” He teased, feeling you squeeze around him in raw desire. “Yeah, that’s the spot.”

You whimpered and tensed when he savagely rubbed your swollen clit, forcing your legs to tighten around him. He laughed, the sound ominous in your ringing ears. You could only hold on as he delivered the sweetest torture you’d ever felt. You spread your thighs wider, trying to get him closer than humanly possible. You opened your neck up to him, letting him have access to your bare flesh. You wanted him all over you and leaving a scorching trail of hunger in his wake.

It was manic. It was frenzied. It was passionate. And it all combined into a seductive elixir that made fireworks burst from within.

“Shit...I’m cumming.” You warned, feeling him double his efforts. Every muscle went taut with blinding pleasure as that coil finally snapped. You felt weightless, and yet the firm body still driving into your depths made you feel sublimely solid. And whole. More whole than you’d felt in the entirety of your marriage.

It was on the tail-end of your climax that Rio found his. His hips stuttered as he grunted and groaned, releasing himself into you and painting your walls. His fingers dug into the flesh of your inner thighs while his face burrowed into your chest and neck. It was as uninhibited as you’d seen him. And you were addicted to the sight. 

You both heaved with shallow breaths, the exertion of each of your climaxes literally taking the air from your lungs. The room smelled of sex and instant regret as you straightened in Rio’s arms. He separated from your body, eyeing you as he redressed. You shifted your dress back together to cover your bra, the mess between your thighs preventing you from closing them completely. 

Before you could say anything, Rio reached up and cradled your cheek. He played with your bottom lip, his thumb once again finding the appendage. His eyes took in every part of you, as if he hadn’t fucked you senseless seconds before. He licked his lips in that dangerous way that let you know his thoughts were on more than just money.

“Business is good?” He asked, warm palm still pressed to your cheek.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Cool, cool.” He nonchalantly replied, hand leaving your face as he stepped back from your debauched body. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You said with a nod, pushing your dress further down over your thighs, a lame effort to protect any modesty you might’ve still possessed. He smirked at the action.

“Might wanna clean up the mess.” He said with a cheeky upturn of his lips, hands gesturing to the remaining fragments of ceramic that still littered the floor but eyes locked solely to the spot between your legs. The place he knew he’d left a part of himself.

You bit your lip and nervously played with the hem of your dress, feeling his eyes bore into you. Despite still being fully dressed, you felt naked to him. Bare. Exposed. Vulnerable. You hated it.

He retreated, facing you as he walked backwards towards the front door. You watched him from over your shoulder, still unsure of what to make of the whole situation. 

“And lock your door from now on. All kinds of madmen running around these streets.” He quipped, eyes lighting up at his own joke.

He was gone as fast as he’d arrived, causing havoc and then leaving without a second thought. The door closed with a crisp click at his exit, the house now feeling bare without his foreboding presence.

You didn’t move from your spot. You remained on the counter, Rio still leaking from your walls and your dress still disheveled despite your best efforts. Your mind raced with thoughts, each one riddled with panic. His unexpected visit left you with more questions than answers, all of which were tinged with fear. What did this development mean for you? Did it actually mean anything? Or was he simply taking what was so obviously laid out in front of him?

Did it matter?

No. It didn’t.

Because although he may have indulged your craving, your appetite was far from being fulfilled.