#max with his comically large drink. yeah.

[the-knife-consumer]

Some funnies to offset my alt max torture from yesterday

[welllpthisishappening]

The Couples That We Know

Technically speaking, they’re not supposed to be dating. Each other, at least. 

For Killian Jones, there are plenty of reasons to like working at Pendragon Publishing. Good pay, vaguely acceptable benefits, not-that-bad coffee in the break room. But there are also some things he kind of, sort of...hates. Namely the way dating his co-worker is possibly against the rules, and how that means they can’t go to the annual holiday party. Together, at least. 

So, enlisting the help of their best friends only makes sense. Pretend to date other people, avoid any hint of suspicion, and drink all the wine Pendragon’s party-planning committee can offer them. Perfect plan, really. 

----

Rating: Still teen, still with some kissing Word Count: 6.1K AN: As promised, the onslaught of Christmas fic continues. This one somehow has secret dating and fake dating because I know no trope limits. Also it almost sort of follows the prompt @the-girl-in-the-band-tshirt​​ sent in, which was "we’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years." Attempts to follow the prompt were almost made. 

Also on Ao3 if that’s your Christmas jam. 

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“You know, for this to work, you’ve got to actually stop staring at her. At least without quite so much palpable longing.” Opening his mouth, Killian has every intention of announcing how little he’s staring, but that would be a rather awful lie and it’s probably wrong to lie at Christmas. Or at least two and a half weeks before. Plus, Mary Margaret’s face makes even the thought of saying whatever he hadn’t entirely come up with impossible. 

“You going to give me detention?” “I’m seriously considering it.” He sighs. Dramatically. Nearly lets his chin slump towards his chest, which would add more than a fair share of melo to that aforementioned drama, and—“You think this is a dumb idea?” Mary Margaret’s eyes widen. 

Her lips practically disappear when she pushes them together that way, and Killian has to bite the side of his tongue so he doesn’t make some sort of teacher-based quip again. He really cannot afford to get sent to detention. Metaphorical, or otherwise. 

“There’s no possible way for me to tell you, again, how dumb this idea is,” Mary Margaret says, and that might be the most scathing string of words he’s ever heard out of her. Telling Emma suddenly becomes something of a necessity, and that’s a problem. 

The crux of their problem, really. 

Eyes flitting up, Killian ignores the wholly out-of-character sound Mary Margaret lets out when his gaze darts across the room and lingers on hair that’s looking shinier than usual, as if it’s trying to distract him and overwhelm him, and both things happening simultaneously is almost too much for his brain to deal with. When he’s had two glasses of wine, already. 

It’s not the best wine, actually. Killian’s not surprised. Pendragon Publishing is not especially well known for its money-spending efforts, and the annual holiday party is no different. Funded by some half-hearted party committee, that is very likely controlled by just one person, that same person does not appear to have an eye for decorating. If the copious amount of mistletoe hanging everywhere is any indication. 

And the whole thing exists to drive Killian insane. Both the mistletoe, and the party. Or so he will argue. When Mary Margaret inevitably points out what a dumb idea this is, again. 

She’s totally going to say it again. 

“It’s going to work,” Killian mutters, but it sounds inherently unenthusiastic, and Mary Margaret’s eyes cannot widen anymore. They’ll fall out. Which will cause a scene, he imagines. 

And they’re trying to avoid that. 

Or, well—avoid breaking the rules, technically. They don’t want to do that. Because Pendragon might host shitty holiday parties, but it’s one of the most well-known agencies in the Tri-State area, and both Killian and Emma like their jobs. They like each other too. 

Deciding to date wasn’t really part of the plan. But she makes him smile, and he considers the ability to make her consistently laugh one of his better talents, and they’re really good at kissing each other. Which is something they’ve been doing for far longer than anyone realizes. Months, actually. With post-work dinners, and weekends spent together, and Killian has started to find it harder and harder to leave her apartment in the morning, because he keeps staying at her apartment all night, and not proclaiming several rather life-altering strings of words is becoming more and more difficult. 

Which brings them right back to the crux of the problem. Pendragon’s holiday party, and its presumably boxed wine, and dating other employees isn’t explicitly mentioned in the employee handbook, but it’s very likely frowned upon and showing up here together wasn’t a feasible option. No matter how much he wanted it to be. 

Showing with other people, though. That made sense. 

It made—sense adjacent. 

“Did I tell you that you look nice?” Tilting her head, Mary Margaret’s gaze turns appraising and she wasn’t particularly pleased about having to take her ring off. It hangs on a chain that’s only occasionally fallen over the front of her dress, and David thought the whole thing was hysterical. 

He sent “Mary Margaret 101” facts to Killian all week. 

“You don’t have to actually woo me,” Mary Margaret counters, but there’s a bit of color on her cheeks that doesn’t have anything to do with the heat in this rented loft. It’s very warm. 

“No woo’ing, just facts. Should that dress look familiar, though?” “Depends on how often you’re rummaging around the back corner of Emma’s closet.” “Not that often, but—” Mary Margaret nods before he can get the rest of the question out, smiling over the top of her glass. Filled nearly to the brim with wine that may actually be capable of eroding paint. It’s so bad. That’s probably not a metaphor for anything. 

“You’ve really got to stop staring, it makes you look like a crazy person,” she adds, and to prove how capable he is of following direction Killian’s does the exact opposite. Back towards his girlfriend, and there wasn’t really a ton of planning before they dove into the deep end of this totally legitimate, absolutely will not blow up in their face plan. 

Will’s arm is slung over Emma’s shoulders. “Can’t clench your jaw like that, either,” Mary Margaret mutters. Keeping the laugh out of her voice is seemingly impossible. 

And rolling his whole head is juvenile, but Killian’s starting to feel a little drunk. Without any of the fun benefits. His head hurts. “Should have come up with a list.” “I could if you want.” “I do not, no.” Mary Margaret’s smile is a hint more honest, that time. It really is a nice dress. “That’s what I figured,” she says, tugging on his tie familiarly. “But you look like you’re going to challenge your own best friend to a duel.” “Swords are a requirement for that, aren’t they?” “Alexander Hamilton.” “Excuse me?” “Dueled with pistols, so—” “—Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays?” Snickering, Mary Margaret bumps her hip with his and there are at least ten unopened texts from David on Killian’s phone. Demanding update for what he was regularly referring to The Great Idiot Romance of 2020 . Although, he never mentioned that in front of Emma. 

Who very likely would have won that duel, should it have occurred. 

“Alright,” Mary Margaret sighs, like she hasn’t already agreed to a whole night of this, “we should probably mingle, if we’re going to make this look legit.” “Say legit again, please.” She sticks her tongue out. 

“Not a very good argument, Ms. Blanchard,” he chuckles, shifting his hand to the small of her back and he supposes he should eat something. To sop up all the wine. Her expression doesn’t change. Might get more scowl-like, if anything. 

And there’s likely no reason for Emma’s neck to twist the way it does, except something else vaguely melodramatic that Killian cannot think about for the next four hours, but she does and he stands up a little straighter. Presumably, at least. Mary Margaret’s reproachful tongue click is very loud. 

But then Emma’s eyes are widening as well, and her lips are slightly twisted and Killian does a God awful job of winking at her. 

He swears he can hear laugh — across the whole loft. Four hours at this stupid thing, max. Then he’s going to make out with his girlfriend. For possibly four hours straight. Which he imagines is a record of some sort. 

“Food,” Mary Margaret declares, fingers back on his tie and she makes him eat four bacon-covered somethings before they leave the table. 

To mingle. As is required by polite society and Mary Margaret Blanchard soon-to-be Nolan, and Killian quickly loses track of the number of people they smile at and the few others they nod in the general direction of, and he really should have been better prepared soon-to-be to evolve into a problem. He’s not. And Aurora’s gasp catches him off guard.  

“Oh,” she cries, hands flying to her cheeks in the middle of a group of editors congregated by the floor-to-ceiling windows, and at least that’s kind of picturesque. “I didn’t know you were engaged, Killian!”

Every one of his muscles tenses. Freezes, making Killian’s ability to stay upright all the more impressive, and it’s nothing except instinct when his gaze practically flies towards Emma. 

Who immediately tugs her lips behind her teeth, Will’s eyes widening to a size that would be comical in any other situation. 

Mary Margaret’s jaw works — trying to find an excuse, or an explanation, but there’s not any of those things and Killian finds himself nodding again. “Yeah, yeah,” he stammers, “that’s, uh—we are totally engaged.”

“Selling it,” Mary Margaret murmurs through clenched teeth, and he considers it an exceptionally large miracle that he doesn’t point that out. She’s not doing a good job of playing her role now, either. 

Aurora doesn’t notice. Another miracle. ‘Tis the season, or whatever. “So,” she presses, “have you set a date or—” Strictly speaking, biology was never one of Killian’s better school subjects, but he’s starting to wonder just how much stress the muscles in his neck can continue to cope with, and he’s all too aware of how much he’s beginning to resemble a bobblehead.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we’re, uh—” Licking his lips doesn’t help their overall state, floundering under the expectant stare of half a dozen coworkers who are now heavily invested in a wholly fake relationship, and Mary Margaret’s hand threatens to crack several of his knuckles. When she laces her fingers through his. 

“Thinking next winter,” she says, sounding more honest than anything else they’ve told these people. “City’s basically all decorated for us, already, you know?”

Aurora does know, it seems. 

Her nod isn’t as erratic as Killian’s, is far more enthusiastic — complete with wide eyes that practically announce her interest, and the hammering of his heart against his ribcage makes it difficult to hear the footsteps that are moving towards them. 

Will looks far too entertained. 

Emma’s lips are still missing in action. “Couldn’t help but overhear,” Will drawls, and the duel is starting to sound very appealing, “sounds like congratulations are in order.” He’s going to kill him. Killian’s going to let go of Mary Margaret’s impressively tight grip, and he’s going to use both of his hands to strangle his best friend. Or at least ensure that he’s deprived of enough oxygen that he doesn’t continue talking. 

He will enjoy it. Thoroughly. 

Lifting her eyebrows when neither Mary Margaret nor Killian respond to this supposed stranger’s proclamation, Emma’s exhale is inappropriately loud. Rife with guilt, and an emotion Killian can’t quite name because being jealous of her best friend’s engagement to someone else is as absurd as anything they’ve done tonight, but it’s also kind of nice and— “Aurora, this is Will,” Emma introduces, and he’s actually got the gall to smirk in Killian’s direction. Before thrusting his hand forward, smiling a bit more good-naturedly at Aurora, who only looks slightly confused. 

That’s fair. 

All of this is flying off the rails, and Killian briefly considers how much of a scene it would cause if he barreled into the kitchen demanding better alcohol choices. It’s probably not worth it. 

“Nice to meet you,” Aurora says, like an actual human. With normal, human thought processes and presumably fewer holiday-based lies to deal with. “We were just talking about Killian and Mary Margaret’s wedding.”

Blood floods his mouth, and Killian’s only slightly worried about running out of tongue to bite before the night is over. Mary Margaret’s fingers somehow tighten even more, threatening the blood flow to his entire right hand, and Emma is very interested in the state of her shoes. 

“That’s absolutely what it sounded like,” Will grins, “when’s the happy day?” Glaring without making it obvious is actually difficult. Killian widens his eyes, but that only makes the width of Will’s mouth increase — like some literary cat, and Emma’s eyes keep closing for prolonged periods of time. Like at least several seconds. 

“Next winter,” Killian bites out, “we’re getting married next winter.” “Decided on a location, yet? Gotta get that stuff in early from what I’ve heard.” “Have you just?”

Will nods, shoulders shifting ever so slightly. Like he’s trying very hard not to laugh. It’s not entirely working. 

Maybe they should apologize to Aurora. 

“Oh yeah, yeah,” Will says, “wedding industry’s cutthroat like that. Plan months in advance, and even then you might not get your first choice.” “That’s definitely true,” Aurora agrees, and maybe Killian will just topple over. Sit down on the floor and drink an entire box of wine, and he doesn’t think anyone else notices when Emma pinches the bridge of her nose. “When Phillip and I got married, we went through a couple different venues before we found one that worked with our date.” “Sounds hectic,” Killian mumbles. Talking was a mistake. His voice doesn’t even sound like his own, Emma’s gaze snapping up in unspoken warning, and he’s worried he’s using up his miracle supply. So as not to cry out at the overall force of Mary Margaret’s fingers. 

All five of which were apparently blessed with mutant-type strength. 

“Luckily we’ve got that covered,” she says, brightly and only a little disingenuous. 

Emma blinks. “Yeah?” “Yup. Did you know you can get a permit for a Central Park wedding for like fifteen bucks?” “Wow, that’s—that sounds really nice, actually.” “Depends on whether or not it snows, but—” Mary Margaret shrugs, and none of them are lying anymore. Well, at least not quite as blatantly as five seconds before. Will’s smile almost looks legitimate. 

“You’re thinking of an outdoor wedding?” Aurora asks. “In the winter?” Another shrug, hints of color rising on Mary Margaret’s cheeks. “Early December, and we probably won’t be outside for very long. Mostly just the ceremony, and some of the pictures. There’s a certain kind of romanticism to the city in December, isn’t there?” Aurora doesn’t look overly convinced. Killian barely notices — is admittedly very preoccupied with the look on Emma’s face, and how it almost feels a little wistful and maybe just as romantic and not kissing her is somehow a victory and loss all at the same time. 

“You know,” Aurora says slowly, like she’s about to impart a crucial piece of information on them, “if we’re being honest, I am actually surprised this is happening.” One of Killian’s fingers flutters. Where it’s tangled with Mary Margaret’s, and Emma hasn’t blinked in years. Possibly longer. “Weddings? Or another wonderful event put on by Pendragon?”

“Bet they didn’t try and find this venue that far in advance,” Will mumbles. Emma closes her eyes. That’s like—half a blink, at least. 

Aurora shakes her head, still looking far more serious than the situation requires. “No, no, no, well...you and Emma are always together at work, aren’t you?”

Breathing is a challenge. 

Gritting his teeth less so, the overall tension in Killian’s jaw threatening to do permanent damage. Emma hasn’t opened her eyes yet. 

“We’re friends,” he reasons, and if he were actually engaged to Mary Margaret he’d be almost offended by this whole conversation. 

Lying likely robs him of any right to relationship-based offense, though. 

“Oh no, no, I know,” Aurora says, without sounding entirely honest, “and I’m sure it’ll be a gorgeous wedding. Just—if we had to guess, I think most people at Pendragon would have thought it’d be the two of you.” If nothing else, this night has provided a massive insight into all the facial expressions Mary Margaret is capable of making. At least half a dozen that Killian was previously unaware of, including the current one — a mix of disgust and appropriate scandal, and Killian resists the urge to point out that he and Emma probably couldn’t date, even if they wanted to, which they are, but that’s...that’s beside the point. 

Entirely. Like a different hemisphere from the point.

Aurora gives a tight-lipped smile.

“When did you and—” Will clicks his teeth, effectively redirecting the conversation. “—Phillip, was it?” Aurora hums. “Guessing you two didn’t get married in the winter, did you?” Whatever else she says gets lost in the buzz between Killian’s ears, the overall state of his heart continuing to threaten the structural integrity of his ribs, and Mary Margaret gives his hand several squeezes. To recapture his attention and whatever professionalism he’s barely clinging to, and she’d been right about romanticism. 

Of which he’s clearly bordering on hopeless at this point. 

Emma smiles. 

And Aurora excuses herself eventually — Phillip appearing like an unknowing brunette knight in conversational-armor, all four of them nearly exhaling in tandem. 

“So,” Will says, “scale of one to ten, how much did we suck at that?” “A forty-seven,” Mary Margaret replies, head lolling onto Killian’s shoulder while he finally lets out the scoff that’s been bubbling in the center of his throat.

“Next winter, huh? For real?” She makes a noise that’s presumably some sort of agreement, and Emma’s smile doesn’t waver. “Thinking about it. If Scarlet will double check with Belle about taking pictures in front of the library.” “Public property,” he replies, “don’t have to double check.” “But can we go inside at some point?” Killian asks. 

“Wimping out about temperature already?” “Expressing concerns, like Aurora who is—” “—A wedding genius, apparently,” Emma mutters, and Mary Margaret’s shoulders shake. She still hasn’t touched her wine. Eventually that will prove important. 

“Got a lot of opinions when it comes to other people’s plans, at least.”

“Eh,” Will argues, “did we give her much of a chance to delve into those opinions, or was Killian too busy making eyes at Emma?”

Continuing to open his mouth without actually saying any words is frustrating. For Killian. And the state of his heart, which cannot seem to find a rhythm anymore. Especially when Emma flushes, and threatens to stare a hole into the floor and of the two dresses she owns that are currently making the rounds at this party, the one she’s actually wearing is better. 

Probably because she’s wearing it. 

“I told you,” Mary Margaret grumbles, without any of her previous ability to chastise. She sounds almost amused. 

“Although,” Will adds, “Emma’s not doing much better, so—” Huffing out a breath only serves to flutter the few strands of hair that frame either side of Emma’s face, and that’s only vaguely messing with Killian’s perception of...reality, maybe. “Ok, you do not get to point out my own,” she leans closer, like that will help the volume of her next few words, “fake relationship shortcomings.” “Why not? It’s making all of this endlessly entertaining.” “I’m a better fake date than you,” Mary Margaret says. “You had to use your own wedding plans because you can’t take your ring off.” “That is nice!” People likely don’t turn the way Killian’s brain has already convinced him they do, but every one of Emma’s teeth is visible when she grits them like that and both of their potentially-obvious fake dates look properly ashamed. 

“Sorry,” Will grumbles, while Mary Margaret twists her heel and whispers, “no more wedding talk, I promise.” Emma laughs. That’s—surprising. And it’s not quite the laugh Killian’s also started claiming as his, but that feels almost possessive, and she’s definitely carrying less tension between her shoulders than he is. “I think that ship has sailed,” she says. “Should have thought about your outfit beforehand.” “Killian likes the dress,” Mary Margaret smiles. 

“Yeah, well Killian likes me, so…” Tugging Emma against his side, Will lets out another noise that will only garner them more attention, and people are starting to dance. The party fund could not afford a band. Or a DJ. Or anything more than what sounds like slightly muffled speakers and someone’s Spotify premium account. Killian hopes it’s premium, at least. 

Hearing ads in the middle of this instrumental Christmas music might be the last straw. For his sanity.  

“Well,” Will says, “if Mary Margaret’s going to start planning weddings, then I guess I do have to step my game up. C’mon, Em—let’s show ‘em what we’ve got.”

“And what do we have, exactly?” “Impeccable rhythm, and the lingering knowledge of a Groupon dance class.” “Do people still use Groupon?” Emma challenges, and Killian loves her an absolutely ridiculous amount. For several thousand things, but at this very moment, it’s mostly how her voice causes Will’s eyes to bug again and his tongue to poke between his lips and maybe the whole night isn’t a total disaster. He should tell her he loves her. 

Sooner rather than later. 

“My girlfriend,” Will replies, “who will totally be able to sneak Mary Margaret and David into the New York Public Library to avoid frostbite and ensure very pretty pictures, presumably on that fancy staircase they’ve got.” “Nothing sets the tone for a winter wedding like some casual breaking and entering,” Killian says, barely containing his grunt when Mary Margaret’s foot shifts. On top of his. 

Emma rolls her eyes. 

They’re just playing the soundtrack to A Charlie Brown Christmas now. 

“We’d appreciate whatever rules Belle could break for us,” Mary Margaret promises, “and will not mention that she’s the only person still using Groupon. Like, in the world.”

Will’s tongue is going to dry out. “Get on my fake date level, almost-Nolan.” “Shout that louder, please,” Emma groans. “And does the staircase not have a name? Fancy staircase cannot possibly be the acceptable vernacular.” “Probably not, because no one actual uses the word vernacular in actual conversation. Now you’re just trying to show off.” “Sound suspiciously like you’re impressed with my vast vocabulary, Scarlet.”

“Product of your profession.” “Grand, I think,” Killian says, fully prepared for Emma’s slightly parted lips. He will argue he’s prepared, at least. One of his knees does threaten to buckle though, and Will’s current eye-roll rate cannot possibly be healthy. 

“The profession?”

“The staircase.”

“Oh. That’s pretty lame, actually. It doesn’t have like a—staircase sponsor?” “Not that I’m aware of, but the entrance hall is called Astor Hall.” “Similar to the place of the same name?” Will quips. “Or—” “—The guy from the Titanic?” Mary Margaret finishes. “Why do you know about this?”

Killian lifts one shoulder. The one not currently providing rest for Mary Margaret’s head. “I know everything, a good fake-girlfriend would know that.” “And a legitimate girlfriend would dispute that,” Emma says, “plus, the Astors own or have endowed like half of New York. This is not impressive knowledge, and don’t get Mary Margaret talking about Titanic, she’ll start waxing poetic about Leonardo DiCaprio.” “I do have a longstanding crush on Leonardo DiCaprio,” Mary Margaret admits. “If I start quoting things about a real party and point out that Kate Winslet was willing to dance, will that get you guys to move?” Will demands. “Because we’re starting to draw attention and that’s probably not going to help our quest.” “It’s a quest now?” Killian asks. 

“Way more dramatic that way, so yeah.” “Please don’t start quoting Titanic at me,” Emma requests, pulling on the front of Will’s jacket and it’s a testament to their dedication to this ridiculous plan, or quest, that he wore a jacket. No matter how bad a plan it might be. 

Or quest. Whatever, honestly. 

“Alright,” she continues, “show off the lessons, or I’ll make fun of you for the foreseeable future.” Will winks. Not well, but possibly better than Killian is capable of, and he’s going to blame the wine. “Prepare to be absolutely wowed, m’dear.”

Rolling her eyes doesn’t do anything to shift the smile off Emma’s face, although she does look at Killian before she moves and the jealousy clouding his overall sense of being is as antiquated as the music and as absurd as anything else. 

Impressive, considering their overall barometer for absurd. 

“When do you think Aurora got married?” Killian asks, rolling his head towards a sympathetic-looking Mary Margaret. “Spring? June? That’s cliché, right?” “June,” she echoes. “Probably required her dozen bridesmaids to help her hand-make table favors, too. Just to really drive the point home. You want something else to drink?” “Yes, obviously.” Narrowing her eyes slightly when she nods, makes it more difficult to look at her — but that might also have something to do with the amount of alcohol Killian’s already consumed, and he really does appreciate how often Mary Margaret keeps making him eat. Even when it appears everything on this catering menu comes with bacon. “Don’t do that, ok?” he asks, at least two of their allotted four party-hours later. 

She lifts her eyebrows. “Keep texting my fiancé?” “Maybe you are the worse fake date.” “Well, you’re speaking in tongues now, so—” Shrugging, Mary Margaret’s shoulder doesn’t collide with Killian’s, but he’s also starting to feel a little buzzed. And hating bacon. And possibly happiness. On principle. 

Will and Emma keep dancing. Which also keeps them from having to interact with anyone else, but his buzzed-mind doesn’t care, and this whole thing was mostly his idea and that’s starting to really annoy him. 

That might be his base setting at this point.

“Bacon,” Killian clarifies, “don’t allow the national obsession with bacon to affect your food decisions when you—” Footsteps move by them, curious eyes and he’s not a frog, so his blood cannot possibly run cold. Plus, it’s honestly way too warm in this room. “We,” he amends, somehow rushing over two letters, and Mary Margaret noticeably sags against his side. “What was that about this being a dumb idea?” “Ah, getting fired at Christmas-time sucks. How will you buy us all presents, then?” Laughing helps loosen the knot of emotion that’s been growing increasingly tight in Killian’s chest, and the ends of Mary Margaret’s lips quirk up when he kisses the top of her hair. “Bacon is vastly overrated, though,” she adds, “people are obsessed with it.” “It’s weird, right?” “Definitely. Should I apologize for getting you engaged against your will?” Kissing her hair again is easier than responding, because responding might force Killian to contend with a lot of life-type plans he’s only half concocted, and he really should tell Emma he loves her first. Like, more than he realized. 

Until he had to pretend he didn’t. 

“Nah, but you can explain it to David because I don’t want my story to get interrupted when he inevitably starts laughing.” “You wanna dance?” Smirking at her does not have the same effect it has on Emma. And that’s definitely a good thing, but Killian’s drifting towards melancholy and the music isn’t instrumental anymore. Michael Bublé is a Christmas requirement, though. 

He flips his wrist. 

“Sweep you off your feet, Miss Blanchard.” She’s closing in on Will for number of pointed, if not passably amused, eye rolls. Still, Mary Margaret’s hand lands in his, and Emma’s eyes definitely drift towards them — which is as bad as it is good, and Michael Bublé’s version Santa Baby might actually be the worst thing that’s happened to any of them. All night. 

“Not exactly the pinnacle of music, is it?” Killian mumbles, and Mary Margaret hasn’t stepped on his foot. Or pointed out how close they linger to Will and Emma, both of whom look as unenthused by the music choices. 

And maybe it’s because he keeps staring, or possibly because Will is not the asshole he likes to pretend to be, but Killian is not entirely prepared for his friend to spin his fake date closer, or mutter something about cutting in that makes Mary Margaret laugh and Emma’s jaw drop and she steps on his foot. 

It’s the best thing that’s happened to him. All night. 

“We are not good at this,” Emma says, but she doesn’t sound all that upset about it and the buzz between his ears lessens. Turns into something warm and hopeful, and she’s close enough that he can smell her shampoo. 

“Something to be said for effort though, right?” “I’m not sure we’re making much of an effort.”

Nosing at her hair proves her point, but Killian’s—an idiot, and willing to blame romance, and the holiday season, and all the wine. So much. Even more bacon. God, he hates bacon. “Scarlet’s not subtle. And you look incredible.” “Do those sentiments go together?” “No,” Killian answers, “but true all the same.” “Flattery will get you everywhere.” Twirling her away, only to bring her back just as quickly, Killian doesn’t try very hard to avoid the smirk. So, he’s kind of a glutton too. For punishment, and poorly-timed emotions, and there’s a rather obvious glint in Emma’s eyes that leaves him breathless. Plus, she sort of slams back into his chest. “God,” she grumbles, “lacking some grace, huh?” “Eh, we’ll get there.” “Will we just?” He only realizes what he’s said when he notices the way her voice drops — rasped between lips that are redder than usual, and difficult to hear over goddamn Michael Bublé, and he’s totally staring at her lips. Obviously, he’s sure. “Yeah,” Killian nods. “Guaranteed.”

Part of him worries. Suddenly, Immediately. Overwhelming—ly. But Emma doesn’t move, and they’re more swaying than dancing now, and Mary Margaret’s footsteps are rushed. In a dramatic, everything is blowing up sort of way. 

That sucks, admittedly. 

“What are you—” Emma starts, but Mary Margaret just shakes her head. Yanking on Killian’s sleeve, she threatens to rip the fabric and he’s never heard her use any of those words. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she hisses. 

Killian tilts his head. “Be more specific.”

“Lance Sinqua is here. Is he supposed to be here? Why didn't either of you tell me he was going to be here?”

“He works in acquisitions, I think.” “I thought you knew everything,” Emma teases, and he has to bite the other side of his tongue. To stop from kissing her. 

Making out, more like. “I’ve had a lot of wine,” Killian reasons, “Should I be more concerned about why Sinqua being at his own holiday party is a problem?” Swatting at his side with both hands, Mary Margaret all but snarls. Emma looks appropriately surprised. “I know him,” Mary Margaret says, pausing between every word for emphasis. “And he has seen me.” What feels like the weight of several words and half a dozen ridiculous plans and/or quests fall into the pit of Killian’s stomach. Where they immediately crush a variety of internal organs. “Will’s distracting him now,” Mary Margaret explains, “but—he doesn’t know David personally, just that I’ve got a boyfriend—” “—Fiancé,” Emma corrects lightly, but the tone changes again and Killian’s never gone into shock before. He assumes it feels suspiciously like this. 

“I do not care; at all. Just—Killian, you’ve got to come. Now. Like right now.”

Nodding hurts his neck again, but Killian’s legs move on their own and his hand finds Mary Margaret’s and thinking about the look on Emma’s face isn’t healthy. Makes him want to stand on a table, or something equally absurd. Shout several things from several different rooftops, and he wonders if she’ll have to wear a red dress for the wedding. 

The real one, not whatever one he and Mary Margaret are going to lie about.

And to his credit, Will’s attempts to run distraction do look admirable. Moving hands and a nearly legitimate smile, while Lance nods in interest and continued conversation, and Killian squeezes Mary Margaret’s hand. In what he hopes is solidarity. 

“Hey,” Will exhales, as soon as he sees them, “here he is.” Killian’s cheeks ache. “Present and accounted for. You must be Lance, Mary Margaret said you’re old friends.” “Ah, I don’t know about old,” Lance objects, “but certainly the rest of it. I didn’t know she’d be here, would have asked you guys for drinks before or something.”

There’s really no word for the sound Mary Margaret makes at that. Part squeak, and what sounds like an admission, but that says a lot more about Killian’s growing guilt and residual jealousy and—

“How long have you two been engaged?” 

Racking his brain, Killian’s had too much to drink for this. He’s dimly aware of Mary Margaret swaying closer to him, Will’s grimace all but broadcasting how unprepared they are for that particular question, but it also seems like he’s trying to tell Killian something. He does not understand. Fuck boxed wine, quite frankly. 

He opts for honesty. 

Sort of.

It worked for Mary Margaret, after all. 

Sort of. 

“We’ve, uh—” Killian starts, “—been engaged only a couple of weeks, but...we’ve been dating since March.”

Will’s shoulders droop. His eyes turn imploring, but he can’t actually say anything and Lance is, so it absolutely does not matter. “March?” he echoes. “Your friend said it was kind of a whirlwind romance. Got together in the summer.” His mouth does more than open. His jaw drops, nearly to his ankles and shoes that he actually got polished because this party isn’t super important, but Killian wanted to look nice on his fake date and Mary Margaret’s hand is the only reason he doesn’t fall over. 

“Ah,” Killian breathes, “right. That’s—yeah, that’s right.” Lance doesn’t look convinced, either. He should go talk to Aurora. Who keeps glancing at Emma, like she’s got like SONAR. Joke doesn’t even make sense. In Killian’s head. 

“We’ve been celebrating a bunch of different anniversaries,” Mary Margaret cuts in, speaking so quickly it’s as if that lie jumps out of her mouth, does cartwheels and then gets a four from the Russian judge for lack of proper execution. “Y'know...romance, and everything. He’s uh—Killian must be thinking of when we met.” Lance quirks an eyebrow. He might hate Lance. He definitely hates Lance. “You’ve only known each other since March.” “Oh my God,” Will mumbles, scratching behind his ear. And really, that’s not what does it. But it’s certainly a tipping point, or a metaphorical straw, and Killian nods once before he lifts Mary Margaret’s hand to his mouth, mumbles thanks against her knuckles and marches directly towards his actual girlfriend. 

Who is standing directly under the mistletoe. 

It’d be more impressive if she wasn’t, honestly. 

And the music doesn’t stop — although Killian can’t really hear it either, an arm finding Emma’s waist, and her hands landing flat against his chest and someone cheers. Will. It’s definitely Will. Heads turn towards them, surprise coloring more than a few of their co-workers faces, while others look...less so. 

Killian doesn’t bother dwelling on that. He’s got more important things to do. 

“I’m pretty ridiculously in love with you,” he says, Emma’s eyes getting brighter and her lips as distracting as ever. Several of the less-than-surprised faces aww. Audibly. Which doesn’t quite make sense, but he’s still not dwelling and—“Not admitting to dating you is driving me nuts.” “When is your lease up?” “What?” “Were those words confusing in that order?” Emma asks, infusing the question with false confidence that he can hear perfectly and she should have confidence in spades. At least when it comes to this. 

Maybe if they get to keep their jobs. 

“A little,” Killian concedes. “Are you—do you want me to move in with you?” “A ridiculous amount.”

“That’s admittedly not the best adjective I could have used.” “Eh, I won’t get particular with syntax.” “Stop showing off,” Will yells, “and kiss other directly on the mouth!”

There’s a general hum of agreement — even while Lance continues to look a little confused, and Aurora looks a little offended, both of which makes sense because they were fairly awful liars, and someone’s given Arthur a microphone. So the owner of Pendragon Publishing can tell them, “Literally everyone knew, you both suck at not making out in the break room.”

Heat wafts off Emma, climbs up Killian’s neck and takes root in both of his cheeks and Arthur is not done. 

“It’s not encouraged. Intra-office relationships, usually way more trouble than they’re worth, but, well—all you really need to do is sign some paperwork with HR and maybe find some other corners that are less obvious.” Nodding slowly only makes it more obvious the kind of strain all of Killian’s muscles are under, but he can’t come up with a feasible response to that and Emma’s fingers curl. Into his shirt, and he imagines that makes it easier — when she yanks him forward, lips slanting over his and she doesn’t have to push up the way she normally does. Still, Killian’s fairly certain he hears one of her heels pop out of her shoes, and if this is how it feels when a heart beats its way out of a person’s chest, it’s actually fairly comfortable. 

“I love you too,” Emma mumbles, against his mouth. So, the only reasonable response is to kiss her again. Several times over. 

And they do fill out paperwork, eventually — the story of the fake date fiasco, as David comes to call it, perfect fodder for Emma’s maid of honor speech, and proof positive of the inherent romanticism of the city at Christmas. 

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Two

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Two

They didn’t talk more about it later. Jace barely saw Simon at all over the following couple weeks, in fact. It’s not that he was intentionally avoiding Simon, but they both had final exams to study for, and Simon was wrapped up in guitar ensemble rehearsals for the winter concert on top of that. If Jace had spent a little more of his study time in the library than was strictly necessary and that just happened to prevent any further discussions of dispays of physical affection and practice dates, that was entirely beside the point.

What Jace hadn’t counted on was how unprepared he’d feel pulling up outside the Queen Anne style townhouse he’d called home for most of his childhood. He suddenly wished he’d let Simon talk him into driving together and using the drive as a last minute planning session, even if it meant they’d need to coordinate their trip back to Boston. As much as he’d been avoiding talking about their plan, it really only occurred to Jace on the drive how much he wished they actually had, you know, a plan.

“Wow,” Simon said, hopping out of the hand-painted van he’d parked right behind Jace’s car. “Is that an actual turret?”

“Yup, gotta love those late 19th century architectural fads,” Jace answered as he pulled his suitcase out of the trunk. “The house belonged to Maryse’s grandparents, and I’ve never been able to tell how much she actually likes the style and how much is just childhood nostalgia, but she hasn’t even changed much of the interior except for renovations and repairs.”

“I have a hard time imagining growing up in a place like this,” Simon said as he joined Jace with his own suitcase in hand. “And it’s not like my mom’s house is tiny or anything, but this is just...” He waved a hand vaguely at the house. “A lot.”

He didn’t ask why Jace was sharing a tiny apartment furnished entirely secondhand if his family lived in a house like this, and Jace didn’t offer an explanation.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Jace said, even though there was plenty to be nervous about. “I promise the house doesn’t bite.”

“Yeah, less worried about the house than the people in it,” Simon told him.

“I thought you were, like, the parent whisperer,” Jace teased. “Isn’t that why you offered to come with me? Because you make a great boyfriend? Trust me, as long as Alec and Izzy think you make me happy, they’ll love you, and you know more about comics than anyone I’ve ever met, so Max will love you regardless.”

“Okay,” Simon said, releasing a heavy breath. “Okay, thanks. You’re right, I just got a little intimidated by the house, but this is all going to be fine.”

“Maryse is probably going to hate you, though,” Jace continued, keeping his face carefully deadpan. “She hates everyone we bring home. It’s like a rite of passage. But you’re great with parents, so I’m sure you’ll at least avoid intentional food poisoning.”

Simon stared at him in horror, and Jace couldn’t keep a hit of a smile from breaking through.

“I hate you,” Simon told him.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Jace said, “I’m pretty sure the food poisoning wasn’t actually intentional.”

“Wait, there was actual food poisoning?”

“Come on,” Jace said, heading toward the door. “I want to get inside before we freeze to death.”

“You are such a dick sometimes,” Simon muttered, catching up to him.

Then, he slipped his free hand into Jace’s like it was a totally normal thing to do, and Jace had to catch himself from tripping over the steps.

“Careful,” Simon said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m not going to make a very good impression on your family if you fall and break your neck before we even get inside.”

And there was just nothing to say to that, to how uncomfortable it wasn’t to have Simon’s hand in his like this, to the way it made him want. So Jace simply rolled his eyes and pushed open the front door, letting the scent of home wrap around him like a warm blanket.

“Okay,” Simon said quietly as he surveyed the entryway, complete with antique chandelier. “Feeling a little intimidated again.” And it was so easy for Jace to just give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, you made it,” a warm voice greeted them. “With as bad as traffic has been, we thought you’d be another hour at least.”

“Hey, man,” Jace said, dropping Simon’s hand so he could pull his brother into a hug. “People must be staying home for the holidays this year, because we barely hit any traffic at all.” He glanced around. “Where is everyone?”

“Iz should be here any minute, Max is holed up in his room playing video games with his friends, and Magnus is helping Mom with some last-minute grocery shopping for dinner tomorrow.” Alec held out a hand to Simon. “I’m Alec, since Jace apparently can’t be bothered to make introductions like a civilized person.”

“It’s okay,” Simon said, giving his hand a quick shake, “I gave up on the idea of Jace being civilized the first time I saw him eat pizza that had been sitting out on the counter for three days.”

“That was your pizza,” Jace pointed out.

“Yeah,” Simon said, “which I was going to throw away because I forgot about it for three days.”

“On the subject of uncivilized,” Jace said, turning back to Alec, who was looking just a little too pleased, “you really sent Magnus shopping with Maryse? Buddy, if you decided you don’t want to marry the guy, just break it off with him. You don’t have to throw him to the wolves like that.”

Alec’s tiny smile became a little less tiny and a whole lot softer. “Magnus and Mom have actually been getting along lately. She wanted his opinion on wine pairings, so they went to the store and left me here so I can pull the bread out of the oven when it’s done. It’s very weird, but also nice.”

“That does sound very weird,” Jace told him, “but I’m glad things are working out and Maryse has found some level of chill somewhere.”

“Hopefully that means I won’t get poisoned,” Simon said.

Alec snorted. “If you want to avoid it, you should probably avoid mentioning you know about that. Or any other embarrassing family stories Jace might have shared with you.”

“And don’t eat anything Izzy hands you,” Jace added. “Anything she cooks probably won’t kill you, but the taste will make you wish you were dead.”

“So, I should just fast while I’m here,” Simon said. “Good to know.”

Jace led Simon upstairs to drop off their bags while Alec checked on the bread.

“Just toss your bag anywhere,” Jace said, opening the door to his old room. “We can argue over who gets which side of the dresser later.”

“Sure,” Simon said cheerfully, “as long as we can be civil deciding who gets which side of the bed.” He stopped just inside the doorway. “Wow, okay. The apparently very small bed.”

And this really was something that should have occurred to him, Jace realized. It wasn’t that he hadn’t considered that he’d be sharing a bed with Simon. They’d even talked about it, briefly, and agreed it was no big deal. But Jace hadn’t considered exactly how much smaller his childhood bed was than the generous queen he slept in back home. It was technically large enough to fit two grown men, but only technically.

“Don’t worry,” Jace said, falling back on his trademark bravado, “I won’t get mad if you cuddle me in your sleep. I know you can’t help it if your subconscious recognizes that I’m irresistible.”

“I’m more worried about your freakishly sharp elbows,” Simon muttered.

“As long as you don’t snore or steal the covers, you won’t have to worry about my elbows,” Jace told him. He was planning to keep his elbows, and the rest of him, as far away from Simon as possible. Which, given the size of the bed, was maybe three inches.

“Dude, I do not snore,” Simon protested. “You know that; we live together.”

“You absolutely snore after your fourth drink.”

“I wasn’t planning to get drunk with your family,” Simon said, tossing his bag onto the bed.

“You say that now,” Jace said, leaving his own bag next to the door. “But wait until you get the full Lightwood Christmas experience before deciding you want to spend the whole thing sober.”

“If your family drives me to drink, you don’t get to blame me for snoring,” Simon countered. Which was probably fair, but Jace was saved from having to admit that by the sound of voices coming from downstairs.

“That’d be Izzy,” Jace said, “and we’d better get down there before she accuses me of trying to hide you from her.”

“Jace,” called a singsong voice, right on cue, “quit making out with your mystery hottie and get down here so we can actually meet him.”

“You should be careful making demands like that,” Jace called back. “What if I’m not wearing any pants?”

“We’ve all seen it. Get your ass down here “

“I like your sister already,” Simon told him.

“You say that now, but wait until she decides you count as family. She won’t be any better with you.” He took Simon’s hand. Because it helped sell their relationship. Because he could. Simon laced their fingers together, and Jace tried not to feel any way about that at all as he led Simon back down the stairs.

They only made it a couple steps before Simon came to a complete stop, almost causing Jace to trip the rest of the way down the staircase. He heard Simon mutter a soft ‘oh crap’ at the same time a bright, redheaded whirlwind came rushing up the stairs at them.

“Oh my god, Simon?” Clary grabbed Simon into a giant bearhug, effectively tearing his hand out of Jace’s. “You’re Jace’s mystery boyfriend? How did I not know about this? You didn’t even tell me you were dating anyone, you jerk! What happened to best friend gossip privileges?”

Clary pulled back from the hug, and now that Jace could actually see her face, he could see the hint of concern she was trying to hide under her wide smile.

“Clary. Hi,” Simon said, eyes wide. “I was going to tell you, I swear. It’s just, this is kind of new and so...” He trailed off, looking panicked. His eyes caught Jace’s. “But, uh, yeah. This is Jace. My boyfriend. Jace, this is my best friend, Clary Fray.”

“Yeah,” Jace said, looking between the two of them and feeling more than a little out of his depth. He’d planned for things to be weird, but not this weird. “We’ve met.” He flashed Clary a smile. “Fray, huh?”

She nodded. “I couldn’t keep his name. Not after...after everything. Fray is the name Mom used before she married Luke. It’s the name I remember her having when I was little, so.” She shrugged. “I filed the paperwork to have it legally changed the day I turned eighteen.”

“It suits you,” Jace told her, and let himself be pulled into a tight hug that he suspected was as much because she needed one as that she was glad to see him. Clary had never told him much about the biological father she barely knew, but she’d told him enough to know that Clary held him responsible for her mother’s death, even if the courts had cleared him of any wrongdoing.

“Thanks,” Clary whispered, before surreptitiously drying her eyes on his shoulder and pulling back to flash a smile that was less forced than Jace expected. “So, tell me how this happened without me hearing about it.” She bumped Jace with her shoulder. “And if it’s so new, what possessed you to subject Simon to your family holidays?”

“Hey,” Izzy said, walking up behind Clary and wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s waist. Jace had to admit, they looked...well, right together. “That’s my family, too, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” Clary said, offering a soft grin over her shoulder. “And the fact that I’m here should tell you exactly how much I love you.”

“Fair,” Izzy said, then looked at Simon. “So, how’d my brother convince you to join this circus?”

“We made a trade,” Simon said, straight-faced. “I put up with his family for Christmas and he puts up with mine for my cousin Rachel’s wedding.” He leaned in and told Izzy in a stage whisper, “Also, I’m weak for his smile, but don’t tell him I said that, because he will abuse it.”

“You say that like I don’t already abuse it,” Jace said, sliding his arm around Simon’s waist in a mirror of Izzy and Clary’s pose. “And to answer your earlier question, us being officially together is new, but we’ve been sort of on the verge of dating for ages. Practically since we started sharing an apartment last year.”

Clary let out a peal of delighted laughter. “Oh, you’re the roommate. It makes sense now.” Before Jace could ask what made sense, she was pulling the both of them into a tight hug. “I’m really happy for both of you.”

“If I’d known you were going to be this excited, I definitely would have mentioned it sooner,” Simon said, pulling back from the hug.

Jace tried to catch his eye, wondering what on earth was going on. He knew both Clary and Simon well enough to know he was missing something, but he had no idea what it was. Simon ignored him, and that just made Jace more suspicious.

“Come on,” Izzy said. “You can have your hug fest later. Right now, I want to help Alec get things set up in the kitchen and maybe surprise Mom by getting dinner started before she gets back.”

Jace and Clary exchanged a panicked look, and Jace frantically searched his mind for excuses to keep Izzy busy. He didn’t actually want a repeat of the food poisoning episode, after all.

“Actually,” Simon said, turning a bright smile on Izzy. “I was kind of hoping you’d be willing to show me your Lego Star Wars collection before we get too wrapped up in family stuff. Jace mentioned you have the deluxe Imperial Star Destroyer set from the early 2000’s, and I’ve never actually seen one in person.”

“Oh,” Izzy said, looking torn. “I’m not sure—”

“We can help Alec in the kitchen,” Clary said quickly. “You two go do your nerd thing. I knew this was inevitable when I finally introduced you two anyway. And this way I get the chance to harass my bestie’s new boyfriend without him in the way trying to keep me from learning the embarrassing details.”

“You know, on second thought—” Simon began, looking slightly panicked.

“Come on,” Izzy interrupted, smiling brightly and grabbing his hand.

Simon flashed Clary a betrayed look, then looked to Jace for support. Jace simply smiled at him.

“Don’t worry, love muffin,” he said mildly. “I’d never intentionally embarrass you.”

“I want you to know that I hate both of you,” Simon said before allowing Izzy to drag him back up the stairs.

“My collection is all still in my old room,” Izzy said. “Clary and I have been looking for an apartment big enough I can actually move the rest of my stuff out of here, but so far we haven’t found anything in our price range.”

Jace turned back to Clary. “Exactly what kind of embarrassing stories were you hoping for? Because I have many.”

Clary shook her head. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got more embarrassing Simon stories than you do. I’ve got almost two decades worth. But I was actually hoping to talk to you alone anyway, and this seems like the best chance we’re going to get.”

Jace followed her down the stairs and into the study. “Sounds serious. You planning to give me a shovel talk?”

Clary laughed, shaking her head. “No, I know you, remember? I’m not worried about you hurting Simon. Well,” she amended, “not any more than I am about him hurting you.” She met his eyes with a soft smile. “You might be the only person I know with a heart as big as Simon’s, as much as you try to hide it.”

Jace looked away. It had been two years since the last time he’d seen her, and she could still see right to the heart of him. He didn’t want to know what she’d see if she kept looking. “Clary—”

“Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me,” she teased. “But I didn’t actually bring you out here to talk about Simon. I wanted to apologize.”

Jace frowned, looking back at her. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for.” He was more than a little grateful not to have Clary grilling him about his entirely fabricated relationship, but he wasn’t sure where this conversation was going.

“No, I do,” she insisted. “I promised to keep in touch when you moved away, and I didn’t.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Jace said, even if maybe it had been at first. Those first few months at school had been hard. Jace always thought he was used to being alone, especially after his mother’s suicide, but he found out just how much he’d come to rely on his new family when he didn’t see them every day. They’d kept in touch, of course, but with Izzy immersed in her studies and Alec all wrapped up in his new relationship with Magnus, it wasn’t anything like what it had been when they were all under one roof.

For a while, he and Clary had been in touch nearly every day, sometimes texting multiple times a day. Jace told her about his classes and how much he liked Boston, and Clary told him all about trying to narrow down which art schools she wanted to apply to. It was almost the same sort of easy friendship they’d had before he left, after they agreed they were better off as friends.

But after a couple months, Clary’s messages came less and less often, and eventually stopped altogether. Jace tried not to let it bother him, but he started drinking a bit too much and going to a few too many parties. Which was how he’d met Maia, his attempts at flirting somehow leading to him getting his ass handed to him at beer pong, and soon he found himself with an entire group of new friends. Although Maia insisted for almost a year that she and Jace were merely antagonistic acquaintances.

Clary gave him a look that told him she knew exactly how full of it he was. “It was a shitty thing to do, and I was a shitty friend,” she told him. “Especially because I did it on purpose. Izzy and I started getting close and I started to have feelings for her, and I didn’t know what to say to you about it. I didn’t know how to even talk to you about what was going on in my life without mentioning that she was becoming such a big part of it.”

“You didn’t actually have to hide it from me, you know,” Jace said. “I was surprised when Izzy first told me, but I’m mostly just glad you’re both happy. And seeing you together, I know you both are.”

“Thanks,” Clary said. “I didn’t want to hurt you or make things weird. For a while, I thought I could just ignore what I was feeling, but Iz is just... She’s not someone you can ignore, you know?”

“Oh, I know exactly how hard my sister is to ignore, believe me.” Jace stopped, considered, then admitted something he had never said—would never say—to another person. But this was Clary, and he knew she would never repeat it. And even if she did, he could always play it off as part of the act. “She and Simon have that in common. You know, I actually thought I hated him at first? He’s so enthusiastic about everything, and so sincere, and just.” He shrugged. “Not the kind of person I thought would ever do it for me.”

“But he won you over with his boyish charm?” Clary guessed.

“Mm,” Jace agreed. And the way he loved without reserve. Not just his family and friends, but his music, his favorite films, even the crappy nachos from the 7-11 down the block from their apartment. Simon loved every part of life, and being around him, Jace could almost imagine what that felt like. “Well, that and his abs.”

“Can’t forget those,” Clary laughed.

“Not with how often he eats breakfast shirtless,” Jace agreed. “Come on. If we aren’t in the kitchen by the time Izzy gets back downstairs, you know she’ll try to help Alec herself, and I was kind of hoping for dinner to be edible.”

~~~

Dinner was surprisingly painless. Maryse was more relaxed and happy than Jace had ever seen her, and he couldn’t help wondering how much of that was related to the very unsubtle smiles she kept exchanging with Clary’s stepfather. Even Max, who was deep in throes of preteen scorn, grudgingly admitted that Simon being in a band was “pretty cool” and joined in on some of Simon, Clary, and Izzy’s excited nerd talk that went entirely over Jace’s head.

After dinner, they retired to the living room for eggnog and carols. Jace limited himself to a single cup of Magnus’s infamous eggnog, knowing better than to let himself get drunk when he was putting on a show for his family. Or sharing his tiny bed with Simon.

As usual, Jace let himself get pushed over the piano to play. He felt something in him settle as soon as he rested his fingers on the keys of Maryse’s baby grand, the feel different and so much more familiar than the ancient keyboard he had back in Boston or the well-used uprights in the practice rooms at school.

When Jace had first come to live with the Lightwoods, he’d been afraid to touch the piano. His mother had put him in lessons as soon as he was old enough, but she hated to listen to him play and often chastised him for not being a better player, saying he should be better at it with how talented his father was. Now, he understood that it was just another manifestation of the combined grief and mental illness that led to Celine’s death, but at the time he’d hated how awful he was at playing, no matter how much he enjoyed doing it.

But Maryse knew he played and encouraged him to use her piano. She told him that it had been her father’s, and though she’d taken lessons herself as a child, she’d never really loved it the way he had. She said that the instrument deserved to be loved, and as long as Jace loved playing it, she didn’t care how good he was or wasn’t.

It was the first time he’d really felt like this could be his home.

“Okay,” Jace said after the third version of O Tannenbaum with ridiculous altered lyrics—this one courtesy of Simon rather than Max or Clary, about an ill-fated toad who chose the wrong moment to cross the street, “I think my fingers are done for the night.”

“Oh, come on,” Clary said. “Simon and I have at least a dozen more of these we came up with when we were kids.”

“When we were little, I only knew the lyrics to the Christmas songs they played on the radio, so Fray made up silly lyrics to the other ones and told me they were real,” Simon explained. “And it made her so happy that I went along with it even for the couple I did know.”

“There will be plenty of time for more singing tomorrow,” Maryse said. “But if I know this one,” she continued, smiling at Max, “we’re all going to be dragged out of bed at the crack of dawn for presents.”

“Mom,” Max whined, “I’m not a kid anymore. I know the presents will still be there whenever I get up.”

“I seem to remember someone who looked an awful lot like you waking us up before sunrise last year,” Magnus said with exaggerated confusion. “Perhaps you have a twin I haven’t met?”

Max fixed him with a withering look. “Last year, I was eleven. This year I’m twelve,” he said, as though that explained it.

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’ve grown out of it,” Alec told him. “Because I intend to sleep in. And if you try to get me out of bed early, I’ll remind you of this conversation.”

“Oh, no need for that, darling,” Magnus said cheerfully. “I’ll just barricade the door before we go to sleep so he can’t get to us.”

“Brilliant,” Alec said, giving Magnus a frankly sappy smile. “I knew there was a reason I loved you.”

“And on that note,” Jace said, “I think I’m going to head to bed before I die of sweetness overdose.”

“Oh, please,” Magnus said, giving him an unimpressed look. “We all saw you and Simon making eyes at each other over those cookies you were frosting earlier.”

“It’s true,” Izzy said before Jace could protest. “You don’t get to tease Alec about being a sap anymore, not now that we’ve all actually seen you with someone you love.”

Jace froze, his mouth half open, then quickly snapped it shut. It made sense that Izzy would assume. He’d brought Simon home for Christmas, after all. That was the story they were selling even if they hadn’t actually discussed it, even if it wasn’t something Jace had said or even implied. And whatever he did feel for Simon, it certainly wasn’t love. It was, at best, a friendly crush. A very intense friendly crush.

Izzy seemed to realize her mistake, glancing between him and Simon with a look of dawning panic.

“No, you’re misunderstanding how this works,” Simon said easily, because of course Izzy’s words hadn’t sent him into a panic the way they had Jace. “Jace gets to tease Alec, and you, and you both get to tease him back.”

“Yep,” Clary agreed. “Those are the rules, because that means I still get to tease Simon.”

“Please,” Izzy said. “Clary and I are too sophisticated to be sappy.”

“I’m pretty sure I heard you call Clary ‘cuddle bug’ earlier,” Alec said.

“And I definitely saw you laugh at that terrible joke she told at dinner,” Jace added.

“She ate one of the cookies you made,” Max accused.

“Yeah, sorry, cutie,” Clary said. “We’re really pretty sappy.”

“Fine,” Izzy huffed. “But I just think you’re all jealous because I’ve got the cutest girlfriend.”

“Yes, Izzy,” Alec said drily. “You’ve uncovered my secret. I’m extremely jealous of your girlfriend.”

“I knew it,” Izzy said smugly, as though Alec had been perfectly sincere.

“Definitely in danger of dying of sweetness overdose,” Jace said.

That set off another round of teasing, this time with Izzy throwing in not so subtle attempts to drag Maryse and Luke into it. Jace wasn’t sure why Izzy was so determined to make the two admit there was something between them. It was obvious there was just from the way they acted around each other. Maryse would tell them when she was ready, just like she had when she and Robert filed for divorce.

It was almost another hour before Jace finally made his way up the stairs toward his room. He was surprised when Simon rose to follow him, but didn’t say anything until they were back in his room.

“I’m surprised you didn’t stay to nerd out with Clary and Iz some more.”

“I get to talk to Clary all the time,” he said with a shrug. “Besides, it’ll be easier to keep up the whole fake boyfriend thing if I don’t let her get me alone. She’d definitely figure out something’s up if I let her start grilling me about our relationship. Also, you don’t get to call me a nerd when you know just as much about Star Wars as I do.”

“It’s impossible to grow up with Izzy and not know way too much about Star Wars,” Jace said, pulling off his shirt and tossing it over a chair. “Are you still sure about doing this? Neither of us counted on Clary, and I’ll understand if you want to back out.”

“Huh?” Simon said, sounding distracted. Jace turned to look at him and thought he detected the faintest flush on Simon’s cheeks when he met his eyes. “I mean, yeah, no, I’m not backing out.” He gave an uncomfortable shrug as he pulled a set of pajamas out of his suitcase. “The last thing I want is to have to explain this whole thing to Clary.”

“Good point,” Jace agreed, turning around to put on his own pajama bottoms. It was tempting to watch Simon change, but it was also a very bad idea. “I don’t want to think about what she’d have to say to both of us if she knew.”

There was a beat of silence before Simon asked, “So, do you, um, have a preferred side of the bed?”

Jace turned to look at him, only a little disappointed to find Simon fully dressed in his pajamas. As usual when someone asked a question he didn’t want to think about, Jace flashed a smirk. “In a bed this small, I usually just take up the whole thing.”

“Well, unless you want me on top of you, you should pick a side,” Simon said, unimpressed. “Because I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

“I’ll take the left,” Jace said quickly, trying and mostly failing to avoid thinking about exactly how much he did want Simon on top of him. “I’m just gonna hit the bathroom real quick.”

Which was how Jace found himself locked in the tiny guest bathroom, lip caught between his teeth as he frantically tugged at his cock. He hadn’t planned on jerking off, but he couldn’t get Simon’s words out of his head, and he sure as hell wasn’t getting into bed with Simon half-hard, which was really the only other option.

He could picture it far too easily. Simon pressing him into that ridiculously tiny bed, hands gentle but firm, mouth just a little bit desperate.

He came to the thought of rutting up against those ridiculous abs.

By the time Jace cleaned himself up and returned to his room, Simon was nestled under the covers on the right side of the bed. Seeing him like that made something in Jace’s chest clench, and he flipped the light off just so he wouldn’t have to look anymore.

“‘Night,” Simon said as Jace slid into bed, taking care to stay entirely on his side.

“Don’t even think about snoring,” Jace answered.

He lay in the dark for a long time, staring into the darkness, listening to the sounds of the city that didn’t quite drown out the soft breathing of the man beside him. He tried not to think about how easy and relaxed the night had been, how perfect it would have been if only half of it weren’t a lie.

[supernaturaldesires]

A Descent Into Insanity - Chapter One

Based on request by @sweetpotato-97

Could ask for a fic of Yandere Dean with a reader who sees him as a best friend and a form of brother for them, of course in the beginning Dean was not a yandere but he changed with the passage of time?

Note: the reader in a way is innocent and does not know that Dean is in love with them.

Pairing: None (yet)

Characters: Dean & Sam

Warnings: none, other than a slightly protective Dean

Word Count: 1,802

One Year Ago

As you pulled up to the old abandoned shack, you checked against the photo in the newspaper on your passenger seat. This was the place, without a doubt. You had stopped about 150 yards away to avoid drawing any attention or raising any alarms within the shack. If the stories you’d heard from the townsfolk were true, you were expecting just a couple of vamps, max three. It appeared to be a relatively new nest since the attacks only started a couple of weeks ago, out of the blue. You reached into the backseat, grabbing your machete and hip-flask. You took a swig of whisky from the flask for good measure before shoving it in the glove compartment and heaving yourself out. 

There was a gravel path leading up to the shack, but you opted to walk along the grassy verge in an attempt to keep as quiet as possible. When you were about 50 yards from the shack though, you noticed a ‘67 Chevy Impala tucked behind some large shrubs, just off the path. Strange. It wasn’t a large town and all of the attacks happened within a couple mile radius of the shack, so you couldn’t imagine much need for the vamps to have a set of wheels. Nevertheless, you pushed on.

As you approached the front porch, you noticed that the door to the shack was already open, creaking back-and-forth with the breeze. It was at that moment you heard a blood-curdling scream, followed by shouting. Armed with your machete, you launched through the front door towards the noise.

Two beheaded bodies already lay on the floor, and ahead of you there were two figures wrestling on the ground. “Sammy!” Shouted the man who was pinned to the ground, trying to fend off the snarling vamp with his bare hands. His machete lay on the ground nearby, but just out of reach. Without a second thought, you flew forward, thrust your machete down on the vamp, slicing clean through its neck. The head bounced off the man’s shoulder, to which he jumped up, shuddering and wiping himself down. “Hey, thanks man-” He looked up at you for the first time and blinked. “Oh, my bad. Sorry, didn’t mean to assume.” You lowered your machete, wiping the blade on the clothes of the dead vamp. “No biggie,” you shrugged in response. “You get used to it in this line of work.” You flashed him a knowing smile.

Another man entered the room through a second door, to which you instinctively raised your weapon again, but he immediately stopped and raised his hands in self-defence at the sight of you. 

“He’s good,” the first man said. “That’s my brother. All good, Sam?”

“Yeah,” the tall man said, running a hand through his shaggy hair. “There was another one in there but I managed to catch him off-guard.”

“Sweet. Well, this young lady saved my ass before I became a vamp snack,” the first man chuckled. “Thanks for that, by the way, um...?”

“Y/N,” you said. “As I said, no biggie. I wasn’t expecting such a big nest, so if you guys hadn’t got here first, I’d probably have been the meal anyway.”

Both men laughed at that. “I’m Dean, this is my baby brother Sam. Come on, let me buy you a drink to say thanks.”

Present Day

“Dean, can you please put a different tape on now?” Sam moaned for the fifth time. “I swear this is the tenth time I’ve heard this song.”

“Sorry Sammy, you know the rules,” his brother smirked. “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.”

Sam turned in his seat to face you in the backseat, hoping to get some back-up but he knew he was outnumbered when he saw you playing air guitar.

“She’s got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain,” you sang along gleefully. “C’mon Sammy, how can you get tired of Guns ’n’ Roses? I could listen to this all day!”

Sam groaned, shifting back to face forward and slouched grumpily against the car door. “Don’t encourage him, Y/N,” he grumbled. “And I’ve told you, not even Dean’s supposed to call me Sammy, you’re definitely not allowed.”

You leaned over the back of the front seat, throwing him a pout before motioning a tiny violin between your thumb and forefinger. Dean roared with laughter as Sam grunted, folding his arms with a strop. “Tell me we’re nearly there, at least.”

“Only another 50 miles to go, little brother,” Dean hummed. He shot you a cheeky look and you knew exactly what was coming next. You both sang at the tops of your lungs:

“WoooooOOOoooaahhh sweet child of mine!”

As you arrived at the bunker, you jumped out of the car and stretched your legs before hauling your overnight bag out of the backseat. “I’m jumping straight into the shower, I still stink of werewolf.” 

“Yeah I know,” Dean remarked, scrunching his nose comically. You punched him playfully in the arm, which he then clutched in feigned agony, staggering. 

“Whatever, tough guy,” you huffed as you made your way into the building. 

After showering and feeling refreshed, you pulled on a pair of joggers and an oversized hoodie and made your way to the kitchen. Sam was already sat at the table, staring intensely at his laptop screen and scribbling notes.

“I’m feeling pancakes, Sam, you want some?” The tall man just shook his head, his eyes not moving from the screen. “You know you’re allowed to relax every now and then, right?”

The elder Winchester sauntered into the kitchen then, also looking much fresher. “Did I hear pancakes?”

“Yep, you know where the ingredients are,” you smirked, plopping down into the chair opposite Sam.

Dean threw an irritated look at you before reluctantly rummaging through the fridge. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“Jerk,” you retorted without missing a beat. “You boys up for a drink tonight? I fancy going out, celebrating our victory in taking out that pack.”

“Sure,” Dean answered. “Let’s get some grub in us, then we can head over to the bar.”

Sam continued tapping away at his laptop. “You guys go ahead, I’ve just found this interesting article about this new legal case over in Wisconsin. Check it out, so this guy-”

“Yawwwn,” Dean interrupted. “Sometimes I wish I’d just left you at Stanford, you nerd. Anyways, Y/N and I are gonna go have some fun. Maybe you can look up the definition of the word sometime, Sammy.”

You and Dean had settled at a table at the bar, chatting about everything and nothing for about an hour, already four drinks in. You couldn’t forget that impressed glint in his eye when he first realised that you could not only hold your drink, but could also keep up with him quite easily.

You were howling with laughter as Dean told you a story of Sam losing a rabbit’s foot and the chain of unfortunate events that followed. “So I’m there on the phone to Bobby and I could tell Sam was mucking around behind me doing some stupid shit but I wasn’t really paying attention. Next thing I know, I turn around and he’s looking at me with that goofy puppy-dog face. ‘I lost my shoe,’ he says. Dropped it down a damn drain, the dumbass.” You wiped the tears of laughter from your face, shaking your head and taking a swig of your drink. “Anyway, gotta go empty the tank. I’ll be back.” Dean pushed away from the table and headed off to the men’s room.

One of your favourite AC/DC songs came on the jukebox, so you started tapping your foot and bopping your head along with the music. You didn’t really notice the stranger approach you until he helped himself to Dean’s seat. “Hey there, little lady.” You looked up at the guy, he was your typical jock-type, wearing a football jersey and a baseball cap. He was a little broader than Dean, but several inches shorter. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No thanks,” you said, smiling politely. “I’m here with a friend, just having a good time.”

“Yeah, I saw your friend,” the guy scoffed. “I promise you, come with me and I can show you a real good time, sweetheart,” he said with a wink.

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “I said-” your tone was harsh now, your words sharp. “I’m here with my friend. I’m not interested.”

“Aw come on sweet cheeks, I saw the way he was looking at you. He ain’t interested in you like that. I mean, he’s a fucking fool for it, but I’d be happy to step into the shoes if he’s too much of a pussy to fill them.” He tried to wrap an arm around you then, and you were just about to shove him off when his whole body was suddenly ripped away from you, and the next thing you knew, he was on the floor. 

Dean towered over him, his eyes sparking with anger. “Did you not fucking hear her when she said she’s not interested?” By now, the rest of the bar had fallen silent, all eyes on the unfolding scene. 

“Hey, dude, chill out,” the guy muttered. “It’s not like you were making a move.” 

Dean grabbed the collar of the guy’s shirt in his fist, getting right in his face. You jumped up, preparing to intervene. “What I do is none of your fucking business, if you come near her again, I swear-”

“Dean!” You shouted, grabbing his other fist which had raised, ready to take a swing. “Leave it.”

“Oi!” The manager peeked out of the backroom, having heard the commotion. He jabbed a finger at Dean. “Get out of my bar, now!” 

You could see the fire in Dean’s eyes redirect towards the manager, but you tugged at his shirt. “Dean, please! Just leave it. Come on, let’s get out of here.”

Dean paused for a moment before releasing the guy’s shirt, letting him fall roughly to the floor. He turned his attention back to the manager, eyes like daggers. “You oughta get some better clientele in here, mate, instead of little bitch boys.” You hooked your arm through Dean’s and dragged him out the front door. He let you pull him away, but all the while throwing glaring looks between the manager and the man who had tried hitting on you.

You really did love your new life with the Winchesters, basically considered them your brothers now, but they tended to find their newfound protective role a little too seriously sometimes. You decided it wasn’t worth an argument this time, instead letting Dean cool down as you both made your way back to the bunker.

Chapter Two =>

Dean tags: @akshi8278​

Divider credit: @firefly-graphics​

[everyone-has-a-nightmare]

secrets

Here’s my fanfic for the Renegades Swap hosted by @ruby-assassin and @narcissacronin ! Sorry for the delay, schoolwork has been keeping me ridiculously busy, but writing this helped me get my mind off all the school related stress. The prompt was “secret relationship”. Here you go, @nicolewithasoul , hope you enjoy!

Nova was pretty good at keeping secrets.

She had infiltrated the Renegades all those months ago, and she’d managed to keep her identity as Nightmare, as Ace Anarchy’s niece, a complete and utter secret.

So why, she asked herself, is keeping this secret so damn hard?

Nova and Adrian had recently gotten back together after a temporary breakup. They’d both agreed, after the Supernova, that it’d be best if they broke up for a while so they could work through some stuff before they got back together.

It had been awkward at first. They were still friends, and they still saw each other when the team got together, but there had been this uncertainty that floated between them. Eventually, however, as they grew more comfortable with themselves and with each other, the tension went away.

A few months after their breakup, they decided they were ready to get back together.

The thing was, no one else knew this yet.

Everyone knew that they had broken up, friends and family, at least, and they all understood and supported them. Adrian and Nova just weren’t ready to announce that they had gotten back together. They had developed a pretty good dynamic as friends, and, while they had kissed a couple of times before, they’d never dated fully knowing who the other person was.

They were still figuring things out, and they didn’t want to tell their friends and family just yet.

It had been relatively easy in the beginning. They still hung out with their friends, and when it was time to leave, Adrian would pretend to head back to his house, but in reality, would go to Nova’s apartment, so they could hang out for a bit longer.

He would also visit her while she worked in the Artifacts Department, since she had taken up a couple shifts a week to keep herself busy, and they would eat lunch together. She’d look for him in Renegades HQ when they didn’t have patrols, and she’d find him drawing, so she’d sit next to him and ask him about his day.

It was the little things, the how are you’s, the here, I brought you lunch, the reassuring hand on her shoulder when no one was looking, that made Nova fall deeper in love with him every day.

Which is exactly why it was getting harder and harder to keep it a secret.

It’s not like she wanted to kiss him in front of a large group of people, she didn’t feel comfortable with PDA, but she wanted to feel like they were free to be together without having people speculate about their relationship.

“Hi.”

Nova turned and smiled when she saw Adrian grinning at her.

“Hey. What’s up?”

He sat on a chair next to her desk, and set two to-go cups in between them.

“I got you something to drink.”

Nova smiled even wider, and kissed his cheek. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

He took a sip of his own cup, and said, “how’s work today?”

“Nothing interesting, but I did find something that reminded me of a device I was working on, and I think I figured out how to make it fully functional.”

She put down her drink, and when she looked up at him again, he was smiling at her.

She laughed a little. “What?”

“Nothing.”

They fell into easy conversation after that. How patrols had been going lately, the upcoming holidays and the party Oscar was planning on throwing, and Nova’s new neighbors that moved into the apartment a few doors over from hers.

“Their dog has the loudest bark ever, I swear. Every time I come home, it’s like it can sense me, even before I make it to my floor. It can sense my fear, I’m telling you.”

“Nova Artino... scared of dogs?”

“Don’t start,” she warned, but she was smiling.

They were in the middle of talking when Adrian got a call.

“Hey pops.”

Nova went back to typing on the computer, giving Adrian some privacy.

“Yeah, I’ll ask. Okay, bye.”

He hung up, and poked at Nova’s shoulder. “Hey.”

She finished typing, and turned back to him. “Yeah?”

“My dad is making dinner tonight, and said that I could have someone over. So, I was wondering, if you wanted to, whether you’d...” he trailed off.

“Do you want time to come over for dinner?”

“Only if you want to. I know they don’t know that we’re back together yet, and we don’t have to tell them yet. But. Yeah. I would like you to come over.”

A hint of a smile formed on her lips. “Okay.”

They eventually left Renegades HQ, and they went together to Adrian’s house.

They had dinner with Adrian’s dads and Max, and when they were done clearing the table, Adrian said “um. Nova and I are gonna hang out for a bit.”

Hugh and Simon shared a not-so subtle look, and Hugh said “okay.”

“Yeah. I wanted to show her something... um, some comics in my room.”

Adrian was a horrible liar.

“Okay, Adrian.”

Nova bit her tongue to keep herself to laughing until she got to Adrian’s room.

She did, however, catch something Simon said before they’d made it to the stairs. “They really think they’ve got us fooled, don’t they?”

[rsbry-beret]

I Looked At You Like The Stars That Shined

Find it on ao3 here

There were three unalienable (inalienable?) truths that Zoey was absolutely sure of.

1. Max was the best friend anyone could ever ask for, except maybe Michelle Obama, because duh.

2. Python was the best coding language and anyone who says otherwise is a lying liar who lies, or at the very least someone Not To Be Trusted.

3. Leif was the most annoying straight white man she had ever met in her entire life.

It was anyone’s guess how anyone could possibly bear to be friends with him. He was an asshole, albeit a talented one, and a total slytherin- not that all slytherins were bad, but. Well. Leif was willing to step on people if it meant he could get a step up.

Of course, part of it was just Zoey being overdramatic. She loved Leif because they’d been working together for forever, and he was part of her team, and it was hard to hate someone after having access to their innermost thoughts and feelings about their doubts via song and dance. That didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole.

And Tobin was even worse, some days. Sure, he was a complete computer genius, but sometimes talking to him made her just want to dip her entire head in a vat of burning wax, just so she wouldn’t have to hear him speak.

It was absolutely infuriating that they were both fairly good-looking. Assholes shouldn’t be allowed to be handsome. The universe should have some fairness

She snorted to herself, setting her coffee down on her desk and pulling out her laptop. Who was she kidding- she knew better than anyone that the universe didn’t really believe in things like justice.

She heard the elevator ding from across the floor, obnoxiously loud like it always is, and watched Tobin and Leif walk in the room together, chatting and laughing and looking for all the world like they actually got the recommended six hours of sleep while simultaneously doing Pilates and eating things like quinoa, and protein shakes, and maybe even salad.

She hated them both. She hated them so bad.

“What’s up, ginger snap?” Tobin smirked as he passed her desk, looking horrifyingly hyper.

“Absolutely not,” she responded without even bothering to think about it. She was too tired to think. Everything was awful.

“It’s a term of endearment, red.”

“You’re a term of endearment,” she shot back, too focused on her coffee to bother coming up with anything clever.

“She got you there, babe,” Leif said absently from his desk, already set up for work. Leif was her new favorite. Out of the two of them. Let’s not go crazy.

“She did not. Were you even paying attention?” Tobin glanced over at Zoey for a moment, like he was trying to figure something out, before turning back to Leif. “Babe.”

God, she would never understand those guys. Was that what guy-friendships were like? Were they being homophobic or were they just joking? Was Zoey overthinking this? She sighed for a moment before shrugging, going back to her coffee. It was too early to think at all.

It was beyond Zoey, how Max had convinced her to go to a bar with the team. Including Leif and Tobin. He had just started talking about team building, and then Joan had overheard and said it wasn’t the worst idea he had ever had, which was basically the equivalent of an excited squeal from anyone else, so really she had no choice. She had to do it. As a manager. For work.

It helped that Max had a really cute smile when she finally agreed, but that was neither here nor there.

So they were all sitting at a table, eating potato skins and drinking semi-okay tasting vodka, trying desperately to talk about anything other than work and mostly succeeding.

Max was saying something about Ant-Man and physics and chemical-whatever, but her gaze was caught on Leif and Tobin, sat together and a little apart from everyone else. Were they lonely? Should she reach out and invite them into the comic book discussion?

She watched as Leif put his hand on Tobin’s shoulder, meeting his eyes inquisitively and smiling broadly when Tobin nodded. She hadn’t ever seen him smile like that before.

An hour or so later, she looked over to see Tobin and Leif leaning heavily on each other. The glasses in front of them were full, but Zoey wasn’t so dumb to think that meant they hadn’t drank any- she wondered how many rounds they’d both had.

She nudged Max in the ribs, nodding over to the two of them, murmuring to each other something nobody else could hear.

“Huh,” said Max. “Who knew they were affectionate drunks?”

“Yeah,” Zoey said, and nudged her leg a little closer to Max’s under the table. “Who knew?”

It was an hour after lunch and everyone on Zoey’s team was finally, for once, actually working and in the zone and doing things. She might cry from joy. Or exhaustion. Or both.

And then the elevator dinged, loud and piercing. Like a church bell at a funeral. Or an alarm clock. Or something else equally bad. That elevator ding was a harbinger of nothing but bad news. Zoey might break down right then and there.

She looked up to see who was there, about to ask what they needed, but all that came out of her mouth was a strangled “Gyuah?”

The pimpled delivery boy stood awkwardly, arms full with the biggest arrangement of flowers Zoey had ever seen. And her mom was a landscaper. It was honestly the most hideous thing she had ever seen, a mess of roses and sunflowers and daisies and a million other species in a million different colors.

It was also about the size of a very large mini-fridge. A small-fridge, if she may.

The boy shuffled on his feet. Yikes. “Who here is Life Donnelly?” he asked in his high, cracking voice.

“It’s- it’s Leif,” Leif said, sounding somewhat stunned. All eyes turned to him, blushing fire-engine red all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Right,” said the delivery boy, sounding wholly apathetic. He winded his way through the desks to drop the vase of flowers off on an overwhelmed Leif’s desk. “There’s a card. Have a good day.”

“Right. Uh. You too?” Leif said. the boy was already gone.

Everyone was silent for a split second. Then there was chaos.

“What’s the note say, what’s the note say, what’s the note say?” someone was asking over and over, and Mike was definitely taking pictures for blackmail purposes, and Zoey hated to say it but she was curious too.

“Guys,” she said in her manager voice, which needed work but was still enough to cut through all the yammering. Everyone was quiet for a moment. She smiled at them, then at Leif. “Well, what does the note say?”

“Yeah, Leif,” Tobin cut in, sounding just short of sly, “what does the note say?”

Leif cleared his throat once, twice, three times, then quickly plucked the card out of the arrangement and opened it up.

“‘Love of my life,’” he started, before flushing again, unable to keep reading. Someone wolf whistled.

“For Christ’s sake, Leif. If you can’t read it, I will.” Tobin smirked, grabbing the card before dramatically reopening the card with a flourish.

“‘Love of my life,’” he began, “‘I wasn’t sure what flowers are your favorite, so I got them all. I know you hate people at work knowing about our relationship because it’s embarrassing, but I’m kind of an asshole. I love you more than flowers can convey.’” Tobin blinked twice. He had a look on his face Zoey had never seen before, and had no hope of decoding. “There’s no name, so…” he set the card down on Leif’s desk, reaching around him.

Leif was beaming, clearly just as mortified as he was enamored. Zoey couldn’t help but glance at Max, who looked more confused than anything else. Her eyes traced his jawline.

“Wait,” Max said, breaking the quiet, “you're dating someone?”

Zoey was never going to get them back to work.

“Uh. Yeah?” Leif finally said, clearly wishing he could crawl beneath his desk and stay there. His left hand was absentmindedly tracing the petals of one of the peonies. It was almost sweet. Zoey decided to take pity on him.

“Okay, everyone, back to work.”

“Hey, Leif, can you stay late tonight to work on that timeline we need?” Joan asked as she walked out of her office.

“Actually, Joan, I’m sorry but I can’t tonight.”

Zoey looked up, astonished, and saw most of her coworkers do the same. Tobin didn’t, just paused and smiled down at his keyboard for a second before continuing to type.

“I’m sorry, maybe I didn’t make myself clear,” Joan said, slower this time, dangerous. “Leif, you need to work late tonight.”

Leif looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here, smiling painfully. Zoey winced in sympathy. “I understand, but I can’t. It’s my anniversary.”

Joan squinted. So did everyone else, really. “I don’t think you realize how little I care.”

Leif smile strained even more, paper thin. “ I’m not staying late tonight. I’ll use my vacation hours if I need to. This is important to me.”

Zoey’s eyes bounced back and forth between them like she was watching a ping pong match.

“To be clear,” Joan said, “You’re prioritizing your personal life over the launch of our product? The one that needs all hands on deck. The one that launches in two months. That product?”

Leif looked terrified, and also the most confident Zoey had ever seen him. “My relationship is the most important thing to me.”

Joan stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Leif’s hands were shaking minutely. Joan waited a couple seconds longer, then nodded slowly, walking back into her office and closing the door behind her.

All the breath left Leif in a big whoosh, and his shoulders sagged like a popped balloon. Tobin was immediately out of his chair and by his side, saying something in his ear that made him smile. Tobin poked Leif’s hands until they stopped shaking, and then smiled big and happy at him until Leif couldn’t help but smile back, fragile but real.

Zoey was kind enough to pretend not to notice. She’s had enough of those types of moments with Max to realize that some things should be kept private between friends.

It was another late night at work, but at least this time Zoey wasn’t the only one. Maybe it was mean to think, but she was happy that her whole team had been kept longer to work on the project, not just her.

It got a little lonely when it was just her on the floor.

It was already ten, and everyone was exhausted. Zoey’s makeup had come off twenty minutes after normal closing time, and by seven thirty she had changed into the sweat pants she kept stored in her desk at this point. Max’s hair was soaking wet from when he poured water on his face to try to wake himself up (unsuccessfully), and Tobin had ditched his color-blocked hoodie two hours ago.

Perhaps most concernedly, Leif was asleep at his desk for the third time that night.

“Is he okay?” Zoey finally burst out, staring at Leif’s rising and falling back. “I mean, I’m tired too, but it’s still pretty early.”

Tobin sighed, turning to look at Leif too. “He didn’t get much sleep last night. We- he was gonna make it up tonight but-“ he shrugged “-Joan.”

The silence stretched on. Just before it got awkward, Tobin stood up. “I’m going on a coffee run.”

Max squinted at him, untrusting.

“We have coffee here,” Zoey said, confused.

Tobin shrugged. “Leif likes the stuff from ‘I Like You A Latte’. I’m already going, so what do people want?”

Had Zoey entered an alternate universe? If she had, she wasn’t complaining. “Anything with caffeine, please.”

“Black coffee,” Max said, clearly too tired to muster up confusion.

When Tobin showed up thirty minutes later with everyone’s coffee order somehow balanced in one hand and a bag of pastries in the other, Zoey was so thankful she almost forgot to be scared he had poisoned her coffee. But when she saw Tobin softly shake Leif awake, she figured it was fine. They were all too tired to do anything nefarious.

She took a bite of her bear claw and moaned. Even if Tobin had laced it- what a way to go.

Zoey was so, so glad to be at another launch party. She’d admit, when she heard SPRQ was hoping on the AI train, she was skeptical. But Jade turned out really well, and she couldn’t be happier to have Mo come DJ again.

When Mo got there, he immediately told Zoey she had to introduce him to her coworkers.

“Girl, as much as I love the constant dilemma of your choice between Dreamboat Simon and Sweetie Max, I think at this point we both know who you’re gonna choose. I need more drama. Intrigue.”

“I mean,” Zoey said, already leading Mo to her team’s desks, “You probably know way too much personal information about all of them for this not to be weird, but okay.” They got to the desks where, thankfully, everyone was still working on the last minute problems. Not that it was good that there were last minute problems, but- well.

Her coworkers looked up when they heard two pairs of footsteps and Zoey smiled at them. “Guys, this is my friend Mo. Mo’s gonna be DJ-ing the launch tomorrow. Mo, this is my team.”

This was so awkward. Her worlds were colliding. Although honestly, when she looked around, it seemed like the only one uncomfortable was her. Mo was already talking to Tobin about music (huh) while Leif sort of just stood there and listened, nodding occasionally and laughing at all the right moments.

Then, clear as a bell, Zoey heard Mo say “you two are such a cute couple!”

Time stopped.

“Uhm. What?” Max said, loud, interrupting Mo.

“What?” Mo asked back.

“Tobin and Leif aren’t dating,” Zoey supplied.

Tobin looked at Leif. Leif looked at Tobin. Then they both started laughing, hard.

Everyone was looking at everyone, perplexed and concerned and some other emotion, something between embarrassed and amused, like they thought they were in on a joke, but weren’t entirely sure.

Eventually Tobin and Leif stopped laughing and Tobin said, “Actually, me and Leif have been dating for coming up two and a half years now.”

Zoey felt her eyes widen. Max dropped his pen, and almost his laptop. Mo started laughing, now.

Leif grinned too, surprised. “We thought you all knew?”

“How would we know?” Zoey asked, probably somewhat shrilly.

“We call each other ‘babe’,” said Tobin. “We’re constantly touching.”

“Whenever one of us can’t work late, neither can the other. Tobin went on a coffee run for me,” Leif added.

“Shut up,” Tobin said, pink. “Like you didn’t love the flowers.”

“Oh my god, the flowers were from you?”

“Max, we’ve been dating for two and a half years, yes the flowers were from me.”

Leif smiled and wrapped his arm around Tobin’s waist. In hindsight, they really were obvious. “I thought you guys were supposed to be geniuses or something? Mo figured it out in three minutes.”

“That’s because I’m amazing, honey,” Mo said. “And as absolutely hilarious as this is, I do need to set up for my real, paying job right around now. Bye-bye, Zozo.” Mo waved, still laughing quietly to himself.

Everyone stood for second, taking it all in.

“Hey,” Tobin finally said, turning to Lief, “does this mean we can make out at work now?”

Title from Mary’s Song by Taylor Swift :)

[epickendall]

A Trip To The Fall part 2

After a little shopping at Gravity Falls mall, the Tennysons come back to the Rustbucket as Grandpa Max has a bag full of strange food that includes squid that he is going to make for dinner much to the dismay of Gwen and Ben.

"God squid burgers again," said Gwen sitting down

"I don't have any snack with me that would knock the taste of squid out of my mouth," said Ben sitting down next to her

"At least we're going to Seattle there are tons of things to do there like the parks and museums,"

"And of course Seattle has one of the best comic book shops in the U.S.," Ben smiled and put his arms behind his head

"Really comics are the only thing you look forward to in Seattle, Ben?"

"Of course there nothing else in Seattle is interesting to me," closes his eyes

"How about the Museum of Pop Culture where they have a bunch of indies video games

The museum with videogames got Ben to open his eyes "Now you're talking my language,"

Max gets into the driver seat of the Rv and strips in "all right Seattle here we go," Max drives the rust bucket out of the mall parking lot

Back in the mystery shack, Dipper hands Stan his package as he smiled when he got his hands on it, and Mabel walks in to see Stan's package.

"So that package what is it?" said Mabel

"This is the box of wonders, and I read off the internet that it does wonders," said Stan

"Like what?" said Dipper

"For example, it could make me young again," Stan open the box and there was a blue flask with a clear liquid inside

"Should we research the effect the box does before we drink something dangerous from it,"

"Nonsense Dipper I got this besides what the worse could happen,"

"Oh no he says those curse words," said Mabel

Stan drinks the clear liquid until the flash is empty "so do I look young or what,"

"Nope, your still our lovable old grunkle  Stan,"

"Dang it, I knew this thing was a ripoff," Stan throws the bottle in the trash, but he didn't notice some of his hair rising from his chest and popping out of his white beater

"Um Stan you might want to go look in the mirror," said Dipper

Stan got excited, "wait, do I look young again!"

"No, but you got more chest hair,"

"What!" Stan goes to the bathroom to see that his chest hair has grown bigger and hairier "crap quick kids give me a Razor and tons of  shaving cream,"

"On it," said Mabel heading toward Stan room

Dipper looks at the box of wonder to find a notecard inside, and Dipper reads it.

"The box of wonder sometimes does not give you what you want,"

"Whelp this bite Stan in the butt," Dipper thought

Mabel comes back with a razor and large shaving cream and hands to Stan "here you go Grunkle Stan,"

"God this is going to take hours to shave off it's a good thing that there are no customers at this hour," said Stan taking off his white beater and the twins hold in their lunches seeing there grunkle old men body

"All right think I'm going somewhere else," said Dipper

"I'm with you Dipper," said Mabel going with Dipper and away from Stan shaving his chest hair off

Later on the day, The rust bucket was working perfectly until the Rv engine started to make a sound strange and started to slow down, making Grandpa Maz pull the Rv over on the side of the road.

"Grandpa what's wrong?" said Gwen

"It's Rustbucket something wrong with the engine," said Max

"I can fix it with Gray matter or Upgrade," said Ben hover his hand over the Omnitrix

"No thanks Ben I think I got it," Max heads out of the door to see what the problem

"Wonder why grandpa didn't want my aliens to help?"

"I think the watch gives you the wrong alien to work with or you'll do more damage to the Rustbucket," said Gwen

"Please I'm sure wouldn't break it that much," Ben cross his arms

Grandpa Max opens the Rv hood and Immediately sees what is wrong with the Rv to see most of the Rv engine parts are missing or stolen.

"How in the world did this happen," Max thought then he look around to see any place nearby where he spots the Mystery Shack down the road "I could get some help there but better tell Ben and Gwen first,"

Max goes back into the rust bucket and informs Gwen and Ben what about the situation, and he heads back out and walks to the Mystery Shack he sees the S for the sign has fallen off.  

"Is it supposed to be like that," Max thought he shrugs his shoulder and knocks on the door

The door opens to Stan in his suit and fake eye patch "ah I see what got a customer for this afternoon tour of the Mystery Shack,"

"No my Rv has broken down I just need a phone to call a mechanic from town,"

"Oh sorry but the nearest auto shop is out of town,"

"Really,"

"Yep but I know I guy who handy with any type of automobile which can help you out with your Rv,"

"That kind of you,"

"But you have to go on the gravity fall tour for me to call me,"

"Are you serious,"

"Hey, I got business to run, so do we have a deal?"

Max sighs "fine I'll go get my grandkids for this tour,"

"Hey the more, the merrier,"

Max gots Ben and Gwen out of the rust bucket and into the Mystery Shack onto Stan tour of the hovel where Ben and Gwen were not enjoying the tour at all.

"Men none of this are even real," Ben whispered to Gwen

"No kidding I'm pretty sure he just glue an eyeball to a fake leg" Gwen whispered back

Stan stopped at the Unknown display, "and this is the unknown a mystery that no one seems to know what it is,"

"What you think it is?" said Ben

"I think I'm some strange glob monster that nature created and left abandon," Stan try to sound mysterious

"Yeah right you made that up on the spot," Gwen thought

At the end of the tour, Stan takes Ben, Gwen, and Max to the gift shop where the clerk Wendy is reading a magazine, and Dipper and Mable are stocking the display.

"Now you guys can shop at the gift shop," said Stan

"What about the phone call to your guy?" said Max

"Fine come with me," Stan take Max to a phone while Ben and Gwen look around the gift shop

Gwen looked at the question mark shop and not looking she bumps into someone "sorry about that,"

Gwen see to the person she bumps into was Dipper "that okay it was an accident,"

"Hey, you're the one that gave me the direction to the mall,"

"Yep, the name Dipper by the way,"

"Gwen so what are you doing here,"

"Oh, I work slash live here,"

"What do you mean you live here?"

"The guy that shows you're around the tour is my great uncle my sister, and I are staying with him for the summer,"

"Hey Dipper do you have any more tape," said Mabel coming up on Dipper and seeing Gwen "and who's your new friend,"

"Gwen meet my sister Mabel,"

Gwen takes a look at Dipper and Mabel were twins almost identical if Mabel didn't have braces and longer hair then Dipper.

"Nice to meet you, Mabel," said Gwen

"You too Gwen had fun on the Mystery shack tour?" said Mabel

"Um..it was interesting," Gwen said not wanting to tell the truth

"Gwen checks this out," Ben comes in holding a fake stone tablet "do you think Grandpa would buy this for me?"

Gwen looks at the price tag and sees it was 25 dollar "No way he's going to buy this,"

"Oh man," then Ben see the same kid Gwen talk to earlier the day "so talking to your boyfriend again,"

Gwen blushes "Ben,"

"Wow Dipper didn't realize you got over your crush that quickly," said Mabel smiling from ear to ear

"No we're not dating I j-just help her with some direction when I was getting Stan package," said Dipper who blushes as well

"Guy's I'm just joking calm down," said Ben

"Oh," said Mabel who then thought "But it worth some thinking,"

"And who this?" said Dipper

"This my cousin Ben, Ben this is Dipper and Mable their nephew  and niece to the guy that took us on that tour," said Gwen

"Do you guys know that most of the things in that tour is fake right,"

"Yep," said Dipper

"And sometimes we make them," said Mabel

"So you guys stop by the tour,"

"Not really your uncle would help us out with our Rv trouble if we go on the tour," said Ben

"That sounds like Stan would do," said Mabel

"He probably calling Soos," said Dipper

"Who Soos," said Gwen

"He's our friend and the mystery shack handymen I'm sure he can get your guys Rv fix in no time,"

[n1ght5h4d3-24]

StrangerNatural (Chapter 3)

A/N: Alright, who's ready for Chapter 3? Because it's here! Thanks again for all the love for this crossover fic. And remember, let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also, feedback is appreciated.

Warnings: spoilers for season three of Stranger Things

Previous Chapter

Ruby shot up from the air mattress on the floor, breathing heavily. She had woken up for two reasons. One, was because she was part angel so, she didn't sleep much and two, was because she could still hear the screams of the girl she had failed to save. She was trying to calm down from the memory when she felt two arms wrap around her, immediately her eyes began to glow golden as a reflex before feeling the familiar slow buzz of power building in her. She relaxed and allowed her eyes to return to their natural blue color.

"Rubs, you feeling okay?" she heard the voice of her twin brother ask from behind her.

The girl only sighed before leaning against her brother. Jack held his sister as she seemed to be collecting her thoughts.

She closed her eyes, "I just….can't get the…her screams out of my head. I-I could have….have saved her." she tells her brother.

Jack rubbed her arm comfortingly as he thought.

"Dean and I were driving back here when I heard muffled whimpers. I flew from the Impala to where I heard the muffled whimpers come from. When I got there, I saw the life guard from the pool. He was leaning over someone, I couldn't see who he was leaning over but, I could hear what he was telling them. It was only when he stepped back that I could see a girl lying on the floor, bound. Suddenly, there was a distinct growling sound…I looked up and saw this large shadow figure. I knew Dean wouldn't be happy if I used my powers so, I just stood there and watched as a tentacle from the creature came out of the shadows and attached itself to the girl's face. She started screaming then and the monster seemed to be pumping something into her. That's when I decided to return to the Impala." Ruby told everyone.

The brothers looked at each other and Cas looked at Jack. Then, the younger Winchester brother's gaze returned to the female Nephilim.

"C-can you show us?" he asked.

She nodded her head and Sam got up. He gestured for Dean to get up as well and the older Winchester did so. Each brother stood on opposite sides of the girl and she reached up to put her fingers on their temples. Her eyes turned a golden color as she shared the image with the brothers, causing their own eyes to match hers as well as the side of their face glowed a little from where Ruby had placed her fingers against their temples. The brothers could see what the Nephilim girl had seen, gasping a little at the image of the shadow monster. The memory began to deteriorate and Ruby pulled her fingers from the brothers, returning them to their normal selves before her own eyes returned to normal.

Sam and Dean looked at each other before looking at Castiel. The angel stood up and walked over to the half angel girl. He gave her a nod and she placed her fingers on his temple like she had for the Winchesters and showed him what she had seen.

"Jack?" Ruby said in a questioning tone, turning to look at her brother.

Feeling her move, drew Jack out of last night's memory. He looked down at his sister who was looking up at him questioningly.

"It’s going to be okay sis, you may have failed to save her but, I think you made the right decision. We have no idea what that thing is that you saw in the shadows. If you had attacked it, who knows what could have happened to you or the lifeguard." Jack tells his sister.

She sighed, "Okay, I guess you're right." she agrees.

Jack continued to rub her arm in comfort before deciding to get up, pulling Ruby up with him from her wrist.

"C'mon sis, its going to be daylight soon. Why don't we go sit on the back porch?" he suggests to her.

The brunette nodded her head before walking out of the small room with her brother. The twins walked through the dark house, making their way out the back door and took a seat on the porch. Jack put an arm around his sister's shoulders and she laid her head on his shoulder. The two Nephilims sat on the porch until the sun came up. Dean was the one who found the two of them as he woke up early and had gone looking for them when he realized that they weren't in the room they had stayed in.

"C'mon kids, time for breakfast." he tells them.

The Kline twins got up and followed the older Winchester back into the house. The three of them headed into the kitchen and Dean prepped breakfast while the twins took a seat at the table. It wasn't long until Sam joined them in the kitchen. Dean placed the breakfast on the table which was pancakes and bacon. Castiel joined them, sitting at the table but, not eating as he was not required to eat. The small group of four ate their breakfast before going their separate ways to do their own things. Even though the Kline twins had watched the sun rise that morning, the sky was soon covered by dark clouds and it had begun to rain.

"I need to figure out what happened to the girl. I need to know how she knew the lifeguard." Ruby told her brother as they had returned to their room after breakfast.

"Okay but, how are you going to do that? You don't know much about the lifeguard either." Jack pointed out.

"Then lets get out of here and see what we can figure out." Ruby told her brother.

Jack sighed and nodded his head. "Lets tell Dean that we're going out" he said.

The Kline twins got up and walked out to talk with the older Winchester brother.

"Hey Dean, Ruby and I would like to go out for a while. Is that okay?" Jack asked.

Dean stared at the boy, weighing the options in his mind. He's been tough on them lately and knew that if he didn't give them a little bit of freedom, they might get a rebellious streak.

"Okay. Just be careful and remember the rules." he decided.

"No powers, no mentions of anything that goes bump in the night, don't talk to strangers and don't consume a lot of nougat." Jack recited.

The older Winchester nodded his head before sending the Nephilim on his way. Jack returned to his sister and told her the good news. Then, they walked out to the porch.

"So, where do we go from here?" Jack asked his sister.

"To the pool." she answered.

The rain was really coming down outside. With a quick snap of their fingers, the twins were dressed in rain gear and set out to the pool. It took them a while to walk from the house to the pool but, they had finally made it.

Hawkins Pool

When the twins had gotten there, they had watched as people who were at the pool began to run away. Some kids were holding themselves as they ran, as if that was to protect them from the rain. They made their way inside and Ruby spotted two familiar figures at a counter. She made her way over to them and Jack followed after his sister.

"Excuse me?" Max asked as she put the hood of her raincoat down and leaned over the counter.

"No one in the water until thirty minutes after the last strike and don't try to argue with me. You want to get electrocuted, go climb a tree." a guy reading a comic book answered disinterestedly.

"Yeah, we don't care. We're not here to swim or get electrocuted." Max tells him.

El reached into pocket of the raincoat to pull out a lifeguard fanny pack.

"We found this." she tells the two other lifeguards behind the counter, holding it up for them to see.

The guy and the girl behind the counter just stared at her.

"Does that belong to anybody here?" Max asked.

"Oh yeah, that's Heather's. I'll get it back to her." the guy answered after looking at the fanny pack again.

"We could give it back to her." El said.

"You could except she's not here. She bailed on me today." the guy told the girls before looking back at his comic book.

Max and El shared a look, and the guy spoke up again.

"What is this? You girls want a reward or something?" he asked them.

"Nope, we're just….good Samaritans." Max answered.

The girl behind the counter, who had been drinking a Coke, gave Max a smug look to which the redhead responded with a look of distaste.

"Girls?" Ruby finally spoke up.

El and Max turned to see the girl from the mall they had just met yesterday.

"Ruby! What are you doing here?" Max asked, making her way over to the girl.

"I uh…came for swimming lessons. I'm not that good and remembered that there was a lifeguard who taught." the female Nephilim lied.

"Oh yeah, that's Billy Hargrove. He didn't show up today either." the guy behind the counter said.

The Kline girl realized that El had made her way over to a bulletin board and walked over to her. Max and Jack followed her.

"Heather." Max read out.

Ruby turned to look at her twin brother before the redhead spoke up again.

"Do you think you can find her?" she asked El.

"I saw her" Ruby said.

Max and El turned to look at the older girl, surprised looks on their faces.

"Billy had her. That's where I saw her. I don't know what else happened after that." the brunette partially lied.

"I can find her." El says before taking the picture of Heather down.

The three girls made their way over to the girls locker room and the older boy followed them.

"Uh…who's this?" Max asked.

"Oh, this is my twin brother, Jack." Ruby said, turning to her brother.

"Um…he knows he can't go in with us, right?" the redhead mentions.

"Yes, I am aware. I'm going to be a lookout." Jack says.

Max and El shared a look before entering the locker room. Ruby looked at her brother and he gave her a small nod, then she walked into the locker room as well. Jack stood near the door frame, standing guard. El took a seat on the floor, as Max turned on every shower head in the locker room. The short haired, brunette, female had just finished putting duct tape on a snorkel mask and put it on just as her fiery headed friend joined her on the floor. The older girl joined them on the floor and watched in curiosity as El pulled the mask over her eyes, the picture of Heather sitting in front of her.

"What do you see?" Max asks El.

"A door, a red door." came the answer in a whispered tone.

The two girls sat in silence as they waited for more from El. The girl was then quick to take the mask off and was breathing heavily while blood dripped down from one side of her nose.

"What happened?" Ruby asked, looking at Max for answers.

Max only gave the girl a look of confusion before placing her hand on El's shoulder.

"What happened? El? El?!" she says to the girl, who was still in a panicked state.

The girls watched as El breathed heavily, trying to calm herself down before placing her head in her hands. She then told Max and Ruby what she had seen.

"Okay, then lets go find the house." Max suggested.

The three of them stood up and walked out of the locker room. Jack looked at his twin sister in concern while Max and El headed out of the pool.

"The brunette found the girl, something happened to her so, they're going to go find the house. I wanted to go with." Ruby explained to her brother.

"Okay…just, be careful. We still have no idea what we're up against. I'm going to return back to the Winchesters and let them know what you've found." the brunet Nephilim decided.

She nodded her head before hugging her brother and then racing off to catch up with her new friends. Jack watched his sister go off on her own, wanting to go with her to protect her but, knowing that she could take care of herself if needed. He then began his way back to the house while Ruby went with Max and El who rode to the pool on Max's bike. The older girl followed them. It wasn't long until the three of them found the right house. The red door being a dead give away.

Heather's House

El got off from the back of Max's bike and then the redhead dropped her bike after getting off it too. Ruby had managed to keep up with them fairly well and wasn't too far behind them as they had begun to make their way up to the front door. El held up her hand and unlocked the door before making it open. The three girls walked into the house, music could be heard playing and the three of them stopped to look at a portrait.

"This is her house." Max said.

"What?" El asked in confusion.

"This is Heather's house." Ruby clarified.

The three of them were startled by the sound of laughter coming from another room and made their way in that direction. There was Billy, sitting with Heather's parents at a table, enjoying a meal.

"Max!" Billy said with surprise.

Max stared at her brother in surprise as El and Ruby looked at him in confusion.

"We didn't mean to barge in. We tried to knock but,….maybe you didn't hear us over the storm." She lies.

"I'm sorry, who's this dripping all over my living room right now?" Heather's dad asks, leaning towards Billy.

Billy laughs lightly, with food still in his mouth.

"I'm sorry. Janet, Tom…this is my sister Maxine." he says, before getting up from his seat.

"Oh!" Janet says in delight.

"What on Earth are you doing here?" Billy asks, in a tone Max has never heard before from him, as he made his way over to the girls.

"Is something wrong?" he continues.

"We just wanted to make sure everything was okay." Max answered.

"Okay? Why wouldn't it be okay?" he asks, looking at his sister.

"Where is she?" El asks instead.

Billy looked at the girl, "I'm sorry, where is who?" he asked in confusion.

"Well, they're a little burnt. I'm sorry." a new voice garnered the three girls attention.

It was Heather, herself!

"Heather! This is my sister Maxine." Billy introduced the girl.

"And I'm sorry, I did not quite catch your name. Either of your names." he said, looking at El before his gaze flickered to Ruby.

The Nephilim could feel bad vibes coming off of the boy with curly blond hair. Something was wrong with him.

"I'm Ruby." she answered.

"El" came the other brunette's response.

"El" Billy repeated, pointing a finger at the girl.

"Now what is it you were saying El? You were looking for somebody?" Billy mentions.

El looked over at Heather, who was still holding a tray of cookies and looking at the three girls in confusion.

"I-I-I…I saw…" El trailed off in confusion.

"Your manager." Max finishes.

"At the pool. He said you guys didn't come into work today so, we got worried." she clarifies.

"Heather wasn't feeling so hot today so, we thought we'd take the day off to nurse her back to health." Billy explains.

"But, you're feeling just fine now…aren't you Heather?" he asks the girl, turning to look at her.

"Feeling so much better." she agrees.

"Do you girls want a cookie?" Heather then asks, the three girls looking at her.

"They’re fresh out of the oven." she continues, holding out the tray.

Ruby could tell that there was something off about her too, especially because of what she had seen.

"No thanks. We'd best be going actually." she says before directing the two younger girls out of the house.

Billy followed them and stood at the front doorway to watch as Max picked up her bike and the other two girls follow her. He watched them go off on their way, staring out the window beside the door as he had flashes of El closing the gateway and her screaming. He returned back to the dining room.

Ruby followed the two younger girls while thinking about the interaction that had just happened. She had only one thought in her mind.

Billy and Heather were possessed.

Next Chapter

~TagList~

@simonsbluee @hornsandcrowns

[we-are-only-halfway-home93]

Beautiful Trauma 1- We Burned So Bright- [Billy Hargrove x OC]

Summary: The worst way to miss someone is for them to be right beside you and you know you can’t have them.

Characters: Billy Hargrove x OC, Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers x Nancy Wheeler, Max Mayfield, Will Byers, Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, Eleven, Joyce Byers, Jim Hopper

Warnings: Child abuse, underage sex, underage drinking, implied cheating, step-sibling incest, secret relationship, violence, language

Word Count: 2162

Author’s Note: I’ve had this idea rolling around in my head for a while and after the ending of season 3 I felt like I had to get it written. I wanted Billy to have someone who understood him and I felt like the best way to represent that was to have a character who knew him before Hawkins. I gave Max and older sister, Valerie, who loves Billy in spite of who he is and what he does.

“I believe I am in hell therefore I am.”

~Arthur Rimbaud

Valerie jerked suddenly when the Camaro came to an abrupt halt. She lifted her head and glanced at Billy but he didn’t look at her. He got out of the car and slammed the door so hard that the glass in the frame rattled. She sighed and looked out the window up at the house in front of her.

It was October and her mother had just moved her and her sister to Bumfuck Egypt in the middle of Nowheresville America following her wedding to Valerie’s new step-dad, Neil Hargrove. Neil had an infuriating son, Billy, who had gone to school with Valerie in California. They had been close before the wedding. To say the marriage changed things was a bit of an understatement.

The marriage had been a bit of a surprise. One minute Billy and Valerie are enjoying their time together, their respective parents ignorant of their after-school activities when Susan asked her and Max to dress nice because they were having dinner guests.

Valerie was surprised when her boyfriend and his dad showed up with a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine. Billy’s face betrayed very little but Valerie had gotten good at reading him in their time together. He was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

Susan had ushered them in and they sat down for a lovely, if somewhat tense, dinner. During dessert, Susan had stopped eating and reached over to hold Neil’s hand. Valerie felt her heart rate pick up at that and could hear her blood pumping in her ears. She felt the hairs on her arms stand on end. She tried to keep the apprehension off her face but she didn’t think she did a good job.

Susan announced that she and Neil had been seeing each other for several months and were ready to announce their relationship to their children. Max was the only one who expressed herself verbally. She told her mother she was happy for her when her face expressed pretty much the opposite.

The rest of the night had been tense and Neil and Billy left soon after. Several hours later, Billy was knocking on her bedroom door, ranting about his father and his sudden desire to date again. Billy’s mother had been gone for nearly seven years and in all that time Neil Hargrove hadn’t dated a single woman. Not one woman until now and it was Valerie’s mom. The universe must’ve been playing a dirty trick if this was their lot.

Valerie had shushed him and held his face in her hands. He had a new black eye and hers started to burn. Billy brushed her off was tender hands and settled them on her bed. He held her until she was asleep and he was gone when she woke up that morning.

Six months after they announced their relationship, they announced their engagement. Valerie cried every night after that. Billy would come to see her sometimes but he never stayed long. They spent most of their time together at school but even then it was few and far between. It was like the engagement created a rift in their relationship.

Susan and Neil made quick work of a wedding. Four months after they announced their engagement they were wed in front of their closest friends and family. Less than one hundred people. The reception was held in the basement of Neil’s country club with even fewer people.

Life moved pretty fast after that. Neil and Billy moved into their house and within two months they announced their move nearly halfway across the country. Some podunk town in Indiana.

Valerie had never been angrier at her mom.

They sold their house and backed their things in record time. The new school year had been in session for almost two months and Valerie just knew that she would be treated like some rare oddity, some hidden treasure newly discovered to be gawked at and observed. She was from California, after all, and, if she had to guess, she bet that no one in this tiny town had ever left.

She heaved the last of her boxes into her room. Neil and Susan had at least had the decency to purchase a four-bedroom house so that she and Max wouldn’t be forced to share. That had been a nightmare for the few months they did it in California.

She turned to the door and watched Billy stalk by with his own box, a set of headphones draped over his neck blaring Metallica. He ignored her.

She took a deep breath and swung herself outside her room, heading towards the end of the hall to Max’s. She leaned her shoulder against the door frame and watched her sister toss various comic books and cassettes on the dresser. All her boxes labeled ‘clothes’ were stacked in the far corner and all her personal possessions were currently being rifled through.

Max looked up and met Valerie’s eyes. Neither of them said anything, content in the shared displeasure that arose from their situation.

Valerie shoved off the door frame and ventured back to her room. She glanced in Billy’s room as she did and ripped her eyes away quickly.

Life was already painful enough.

~*~

Valerie hated Billy’s music.

She didn’t mind it when they were dating but now it was next to insufferable. It might have had something to do with the fact that he listened to it at near-deafening levels but she wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

It was Monday morning at hers and Billy’s first official day at Hawkins High School. Max was attending Hawkins Middle School just down the street and brought her skateboard along to ride down the block.

The engine rumbled as Billy pulled into the high school parking lot. It cut off with a stutter when Billy killed the engine. Valerie turned to him but he was already out of the car before she could speak. She huffed and glared at his back.

She turned then to Max and gave her a forced smile. Max rolled her eyes and pushed at the back of her seat. Valerie stayed put and turned in her seat.

“Do you have everything you need?” Max rolled her eyes again and nodded. “I’ll get whatever books I need today. Mom got it all set up with the counselor.” Max’s tone was exasperated.

Valerie nodded and pushed out of the car. She pulled her seat forward and Max leaped out, dropped her skateboard and pushing away down the broken pavement. Valerie watched her go and slammed the car door shut.

She shuffled around the front of the car and eyed the girls oogling Billy’s ass.

Admittedly he had a nice ass but she felt a certain possessiveness. He hadn’t been hers for a while what with their parents' marriage but they hadn’t exactly broken up either. Mutually, they came to an understanding that being together while living under the same roof was not a good idea, especially with Neil’s temperament. They agreed that it was best for them to ignore their feelings for each other.

To call what she felt for Billy ‘feelings’ was a gross understatement. What she and Billy had was beyond basic teenage emotions. They understood each other. They complimented each other. He brought out the best in her and she in him. For life to come and rudely rip it away from them was cruelty in its truest form.

There were lots of tears shed during their agreement. She had cried for days and Billy had started multiple fights at school.

Neither one of them had been happy since before the wedding. Hell, really since before Susan and Neil announced they were dating.

Valerie pulled up alongside Billy and tried not to be hurt by his refusal to acknowledge her. She knew that this was hard on him but it was hard on her, too. He wasn’t making it easier.

They stopped in the office first thing and got their schedules, locker assignments and combinations. As soon as they were done in the office Billy walked in the opposite direction as her even though their lockers were in the same hallway. She watched him go and felt tears rush to her eyes. She turned with sharp precision down the hall and headed towards her locker.

She twisted the dial with shaking hands and stuffed her back inside, pulling out only a notebook and a pen. She jumped when a load shriek echoed four lockers down from her.

A petite brunette had a tall boy pressed against the lockers. His dark hair was styled in neat swirls across his forehead and along the sides. He was clean-shaven with broad shoulders and long legs. He held himself with an ease and a confidence that was foreign to most high school students.

Billy had it and it was largely what attracted her to him. His confidence with his surroundings and the general high school drama. Both acted as if nothing could touch them. Everything just slid right off their backs like oil in water.

She knew that with Billy it was largely an act, a front he put on to protect himself. She wondered if this boy was the same.

The girl glanced over and saw her looking. Valerie blushed and looked away, into the depths of her locker. She closed her eyes when she felt a presence come up beside her.

“Hi! I’m Nancy. You’re new, right?” Valerie turned her flushed face to Nancy and nodded, taking her offered hand. “Yeah, I’m Valerie.” They shook hands and Nancy turned slightly to gesture to the tall boy she was swapping spit with earlier. “This is my boyfriend Steve.” Valerie shook his hand as well and continued to admire him.

He had an angular face and the shadows dipped in all the right placed. He had a long sloping nose that accented the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. His forehead was strong and framed his eyes in a way that made him look older. He had deep-set brown eyes that looked like they’d seen a lot in their short time. Valerie wondered if he and Billy were so different.

Physically so, yes, quite a bit. Billy’s hair was light were Steve’s was dark. Billy had hard eyes and Steve’s were soft. Billy was shorter but broader, compacted with muscle. Steve was taller and leaner.

She could appreciate Steve’s beauty but he wasn’t Billy.

She sighed and shut her locker. “So, maybe you can help me find something to do in this town.” Nancy smiled and glanced up at Steve. “Actually, I might have something that’ll interest you.” She watched Nancy pull a bright orange sheet of paper from her binder.

~*~

The car ride home was tense. Valerie could count on one hand the number of times Billy had spoken to her since the move

Once. One time and it was to tell her to “Get in the fucking car or you can walk home!” She felt a rage so potent simmer beneath her skin that she was sure he could feel it.

Max hadn’t said anything when she got in the car and Billy peeled out of the parking lot, speeding down the road to their house.

Valerie glared at the side of his head until he looked over at her. “What?” She snorted and shook her head. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “Goddamnit! What? Why are you staring at me?”

She scoffed. “I’m just trying to figure out why you’re being such an asshole.” He glared over at her and intentionally jerked the car to the side. She gasped and had to grab the Jesus handle to keep herself from hitting her head. Max cussed.

Valerie shoved his arm and he gave a malicious laugh. “Baby, I’ve always been an asshole.”

Her nostrils flared and she reared back.

It was true. He hadn’t been particularly nice in California but it was familiar anger. Something that was seen often at their old school in their old town.

Here, in this place, his rage was unfamiliar. It was new. There were new reasons for it.

She shook her head. “Not like this. We used to be,” He gave her a sharp look when she started that sentence. Valerie glanced briefly to Max in the back seat but she was focusing too much on trying to stay still from his dangerous driving habits to pay attention to their conversation. Valerie amended her statement anyway.

“We were friends. At least then I could tell why you were angry. Now you’re just cruel.”

Billy smirked at her and gave her a mocking kissy-face before speeding up and flying over the hills. Valerie shook her head and turned away from him. If he saw her tears he would laugh.

[maxhoemo]

Easter 1923

“Why not just use the telephone at home?”

“Because,” Ian answered. “The pigs have got all kinds of new ways of tracing these things. Anything like this, I use a public phone. ‘Sides, now you don’t gotta take a streetcar with all your packages.”

“I’m just so excited to see my family!”

Ian dropped Max off and decided to use a payphone not far from there. 

“Max!” His mother answered the door, giving him a tight hug. “Oh, we’ve all missed you so much!”

“So did I!” Max hugged her back.

He had never had money before, and he knew his family was doing a little better than they were before. (At least, Ian talked about their new liquor deal like they were,) but he wanted to give them as much as he could. That was why he brought them so many gifts. 

“Think of it as late Christmas,” Max smiled, handing out wrapped present after wrapped present. Shoes, winter coats, lots of clothes, a newer modern telephone and, even though Earl was a little too old for it, toys! Stuffed animals, a model train, baseball equipment. And a whole host of other things he’d always wished he and his family could have.

Everything was going perfectly. It seemed like his family had really missed him. Well, until his mom asked him to help his older brother with something in the other room. He really wasn’t expecting what happened once they were alone.

“You really don’t need to show off, you know...” His brother Gregory said.

Max looked confused and a little hurt. “What do you mean?”

“All the gifts! What’s that about?”

“Nothing... I just... Trying to be nice, that’s all...” Max was at a loss. He didn’t understand what the problem was.

“Uh huh.... Eating well I see.”

An uncomfortable look crossed Max’s face. He’d gained some weight living with Ian. He knew that. But he was near starving before. Then again, he guessed his family still was.... He thought Ian had made it so the bar would bring in more money. “I could have brought you all food if I knew you needed it...”

“I don’t need you to bring me anything. I don’t even recognize you! Your fancy clothes and fat face! You really love having all that money, huh?”

“I...”

“The rest of us work our asses off. And you. You run off to be some nancy-boy hooker for a bunch of thugs and make a big pile of dough! Hope you’re really proud of yourself...”

Max was going to argue. Say that it wasn’t like that. But what would be the point? He knew it was true. He did work much harder than he did, and he wasn’t nearly as rewarded. He wasn’t sure how he felt about all this but he knew one thing. He didn’t want to be here anymore. “Okay...” he said quietly. 

Head down, he collected his coat from the living room. “Happy Easter you guys. Have a good time.”

“Where are you going?” Max’s father asked.

“I just... Have to go...” He said, as much as he tried to hide it, it was clear from his voice how sad he was.

“Gregory!” His mother scolded. “What did you say to him!?”

“It’s okay, really...” Max tried to smile. But he just couldn’t stay. Not now.

---

“Max. Back so soon?” Ian questioned, seeing Max already making his way back to the car. He looked so down.

“I wanna go home...”

“You are home.”

“No. Our home.”

“You mean...” He was going to ask if Max considered his house home, but he seemed to already know what he was implying.

“Yeah. Home. I want to go home. I...I love you, Ian....”

“Oh, baby bird...” Ian lifted Max’s face by his chin and looked him in the eyes. “Then I’ll take you home.”

----

“Max, I’ve got a surprise for you too,” Ian told him once they were back home.

Max sat in bed, kicking off his shoes. “What is there possibly left for you to give me?” Max laughed.

Ian shrugged. “I was out one day an’ thought a’ you, that’s all...”

Max watched in curiosity as Ian retrieved a large wrapped gift from the closet. It was rectangular and nearly up to Ian’s waist. He couldn’t imagine what it was. As Max tore off the paper, his eyes widened. “Holy shit... This whole stack is...?”

“Well, you were tellin’ me how you liked those pulp comic book things... I happened to be by a news stand and the guy had a whole thing’ a back issues. Figured you’d like a little collection.”

Max smiled. He was flattered, but he couldn’t imagine actually being able to read every book in the stack. It would take years. “I just...” He laughed.

“What?”

“I just, can’t believe you remember me telling you that.”

“Yeah. I just saw em’ and jogged my memory I guess.”

Max nodded. His feet were so sore, he decided to fill the bathtub and soak his feet. Sitting on the floor with his feet submerged in the water. 

“You should really buy a pair of more expensive shoes.”

Max shook his head. “You’ve already given me so much.”

“If you don’t spend my money, the government’ll get to it. You gotta keep puttin’ it back into circulation. That’s how you avoid the taxes, you know. Keep spending.”

“Oh, I get it now,” Max smirked. “So that was why you brought me here. Figured you’d pick up some pauper and he’d take care of all that extra cash for ya’.”

“Ya’ cracked the case, kid,” Ian chuckled.

“Mmm...” Max hummed. Leaning back. The hot water soothing his swollen feet. “Pass me one of those cream sodas, would you?”

“I been wanting to ask you,” Ian inquired, passing one of the ice-cold bottles to Max. “There a reason you don’t drink booze?”

“I drink booze. I mean,” he struggled a little with the cap before finally being able to twist it off, “I did. But this fucking bootleg swill you get now. It’s horrible! Shit burns your throat! Tastes like poison... I’ll stick with these for now, thanks.” With that, he took several gulps from the bottle.

“Guess that stuff must be pretty good.”

“Try some,” Max offered. “Cream soda is the only soda ya’ can’t mix with booze. That’s why I started drinking it.”

Ian tried some for himself. “Don’t know... I still prefer a scotch on the rocks. Though, I can see why ya’ like the stuff.”

Max and Ian talked for a long time. Ian never brought up Max’s family. He guessed he knew he didn’t want to talk about it at the moment, and he was grateful for that. “I never thought I would fall in love,” Max admitted. “I used to read about love and romance and think it was so overblown. But now that I feel it, all those sappy poems and stories are true. It really does feel incredible! Your heart really does swell with joy, I really do just want to spend hours doing nothing but lying with you.”

Soon, both men were naked. Soaking in the bubble filled tub. It felt so safe to be held in Ian’s arms. To be kissed by him. Max felt like he really belonged right here. 

[softfics9]

Post-Its - Chapter 1/5

Fandom; SF9

Main Pairing; Kim Youngbin/Kim Inseong

Side Pairings; Kim Seokwoo|Rowoon/Baek Juho|Zuho

Summary; Meeting your new housemate for the first time is always going to be nerve-wrecking right? Well what if you've been living together for six weeks and still haven't met? That's surely got to be worse.

Genre; Fluff, Slow Burn, College AU

Trigger Warnings; None

Word Count; 2,161

Rating; G

Author Notes;  Ok so this is my first attempt at writing a proper member/member fanfic and I was super nervous but I got a lot of encouragement from people on the SF9 Amino which encouraged me to continue with it. It’s very slow burn just so you know, but if you bear with me I hope you’ll think it’s worth it.

 Characters ages are slightly different; Hyung line (Youngbin, Inseong, Jaeyoon) - 23 Middle line (Dawon, Rowoon, Juho) - 21 Maknae line (Taeyang, Hwiyoung, Chani) - 20

Beta’d; Yes! by @raven-blackwillows

Cross-posted on; AO3

Other Chapters; Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU STILL HAVEN'T MET YOUR HOUSEMATE?!!"

Honestly, that was a mild reaction to the bombshell Youngbin had just dropped on his friends. He had been expecting a lot more, well he wasn't sure exactly what he was expecting but it definitely involved more yelling and curses thrown his way. Maybe it was because none of them had gotten to drink their coffee yet. Yeah that was probably it, once the caffeine kicked in and they were awakened from their post 8am lecture slump the real reactions would come.

"Wait, hyung, we're six weeks into the semester and you moved in to your apartment a few days before the semester even started. How have you not met the guy?"

Juho was the first of his five friends to speak up in the heavy silence that surrounded them in their usual meeting spot. Right behind the university library there was a stone bandstand, mostly sheltered from the elements by the big old building itself. Every Monday after their 8 am lectures, they grabbed coffee from the little cafe on campus and convened there to talk about their weekend or whatever else was on their minds. They were a bit of and odd assortment, if you saw them together you might just assume they were classmates or had just bumped into one another. But actully, they had been together as a group for five years now.

Youngbin was the oldest by two years and in his fourth year in university, and for that reason was assigned the role of the "dad" in their group. It fit him though, he was a born leader as demonstrated by the fact he was voted co-captain of their universities dance team. The next eldest were the anime couple, Juho and Seokwoo, with their deadly looks people often thought they had walked straight out of a comic. Juho looked sharp and with his deep voice people assumed he was cold, but in reality he was like a puppy. Seokwoo was the official "mom friend", always making sure everyone was wrapped up warm and cooking whenever they came over to stay. His status as the most attractive guy on campus was not an exaggeration, sometimes he was mistaken for a model rather than a student. The couple had made it official at the start of their uni days last year, despite everyone insisting they had been dating since the day they met. Then the three youngest members, who had just started university a month and a half ago but were already known on campus. Taeyang was often compared to the sun, and his enthusiasm for dance had gotten him scouted for the team during the first week. Youngkyun, like Juho, was often mistaken for a cold city guy, but he was even softer than his hyung and was the biggest scardey cat in their group, a weakness that was exploited mercilessly. Finally the youngest Chanhee, or as Youngbin affectionately called him, the spawn of satan in a puppies body. He had everyone wrapped around his little finger, and had been promised a spot on the dance team if he finished in the top three in the universities first showcase at Halloween, which was in less than two weeks time. The five had become friends thanks to a stray football, lost cat and a mothers good intentions...but that is a very long story, better suited for another time.

"Yeah, hyung how is it possible for you not to have met your housemate? You literally live together."

Chanhee seemed to have woken up after taking a sip of his cavity inducing drink, honestly it shouldn't have been allowed to be labeled as 'coffee', since it was more sugar than anything else. But if it got him through his history of education classes on a Monday morning, then Youngbin would let him be.

"Well, it seems like we have schedules that are exactly opposite. My schedule always starts at 8 in the morning during the week, and between dance practice and volunteering I'm always out of the apartment super early in the morning. And by the time I get back after classes or work in the evening, he's already left for his job. The only time we're in the apartment at the same time is after he gets back from his night shift and we're both sleeping."

It was true, Youngbin honestly had no idea what his housemate was like in person having never seen his face or even heard him moving about in his room. It was frustrating and honestly getting a bit awkward at this point. He might be passing the person he is living with on campus every day and not even knowing.

"Wait, if you've never met him how do you know he works a night shift, maybe he just goes out drinking every night or something?"

The caffeine seemed to have finally kicked in for Taeyang too, the boy returning to his usual observant self. This statement got the attention of the group and they all looked at Youngbin expectantly, waiting for an answer. Before he could tell them anything, he took a large swig of his coffee because he knew he would need it for the questioning that was sure to soon follow.

"Well you see, we've been talking to each other through Post-Its on the fridge, he uses pink and I use boring old yellow. It kind of started as an accident really, but now it's just a daily thing."

Youngbin gave it fifteen seconds max before his words registered in his friends heads, and there it was, he could see a light glimmering in Youngkyuns eyes.

"Post-Its, you mean the colourful pieces of note paper that people stick places to remind themselves of things? The ones you keep borrowing from all of us?"

He understood straight away, and Youngbin couldn't help the slightly guilty flush he felt colouring his cheeks. He had been borrowing Post-Its from all his friends for the last two months to talk to his housemate, since he was too cheap to actually go and buy them for himself.

"Hyung, why are you using sticky notes to communicate with your housemate instead of texting or, oh I don't know, actually talking face-to-face?"

A unanimous nodding of heads came from around the group at Juhos point, and he could tell by the incredulous looks in their eyes that he wasn't going to get away with just any old answer.

"Well, like I said it started by accident. One morning I had used up the last of the milk in my cereal and I knew I had to remind myself to get more, and since I had a Post-It on hand at that moment in time I just wrote "Buy milk" and stuck it on the fridge. But when I got back from class that evening there was a pink note on the fridge instead, and it said "I got milk and eggs since we were out of those too. I'm Inseong, it's nice to finally (kinda) meet you!" and then obviously I wrote him a note back to say thanks for the groceries and to introduce myself and it just sorta escalated from there."

There was just a long period of nothing as his friends took in all the information. Youngbin had wanted to tell them from the start but he kept it to himself, feeling like it was something almost intimate between him and Inseong, and he hadn't particularly wanted to share it.

"Binnie hyung, I know that look on your face, you get like this when you're crushing on someone. I'm telling you right now, as your friend, I cannot let you start pining for a guy you've never even met."

It was the first time Seokwoo had spoken since his outraged shriek in response to Youngbin telling them he had yet to meet Inseong when they first sat down. He seemed much calmer now, and less likely to nag Youngbins ear off for doing something stupid. But he could still feel the judgmental looks from five pairs of eyes.

"You can't really be crushing on him can you hyung? Like Seokwoo said, you haven't even met the guy, and you've only spoken to him through yellow pieces of paper."

"He uses pink Post-Its Juho, and I don't know why but I just feel like he gets me. Like, it's not just grocery lists we leave for each other, they are also notes of encouragement or information about the day or plans and it feels really domestic to me."

Youngbin hoped they wouldn't push him into saying any more than that, because he didn't want to tell them about the time he had found a note saying "I'm sad" and felt his heart crack a little, or the time Inseong had made extra dinner and left it aside for him when he knew Youngbins dance practice was going to run late. He didn't want to explain why he felt the need to write a Post-It telling his housemate about his 100% on a quiz before he even told the rest of his friends, or how his heart soared when the note he got back said "I'm proud of you Youngbinnie!". They were very personal feelings, and he wasn't quite sure if he was ready to acknowledge what they might mean. Youngbin thought he had been in love before, during his first year of college, with a classmate- Kim Youjin, tall and handsome and wickedly clever. They dated in secret for three months before Youngbin confronted him about making their relationship public. But Youjin wasn't ready to come out just yet, and so he left, breaking Youngbin's heart in the process. There are no longer any hard feelings between the two, but that was the first time Youngbin had felt a true ache of pain in his chest from something emotional. How was he supposed to explain to his friends that he felt that same aching pain when he saw unhappy thoughts expressed on a pink piece of paper.

"Hyung, I am happy that you finally decided to tell us about your little situation, but what I'm struggling to see is why now?"

It was Youngkyun, again with his sensible observations. None of the others had given much thought to why Youngbin was suddenly telling them this over their Monday morning coffee, but he had, and Youngbin couldn't help but grin. Law was certainly the right thing for him to be studying. But now they were all looking at him expectantly, and he sighed knowing that he had to give something else away if he wanted their help.

"Ok, well I am sorry to break it to you Woonie but I do think I am developing some sort of feelings for him. And the reason I told you guys is because I need help making a plan to meet him."

It wasn't very often Youngbin directly asked for help, he would always try to work things out by himself first, and even after that he never admitted to needing help, but would gratefully accept it anyway. So when he did ask them to help, they knew it was something he was serious about and they would do anything they could for him.

"Do you have his phone number hyung? Why not just text him and ask to meet up?"

"Yeah, or ditch your last class and go home early to meet him, would that not work?"

Taeyang and Chanhee both had pretty solid ideas, which in any normal case would be a perfect solution. Only, Youngbin didn't want to text Inseong out of the blue to ask to talk, that sounded too ominous, and arriving home unexpectedly might do more harm than good.

"You are obviously bothered a lot by this, and if you are then chances are that your housemate is too. Why don't you just leave him a message saying that you would like to meet him properly, and leave the ball in his court."

Of course it was responsible mom Seokwoo who came up with the most reasonable plan, and it gave Youngbin a small bit of comfort that he wouldn't be overstepping any boundaries by giving Inseong full control over meeting up. Maybe Seokwoo was right and he was just as anxious to meet Youngbin, but if that wasn't the case then his offer wasn't forced. And besides, it most certainly couldn't get any more awkward than the current situation.

"Thank you guys, for the advice and for not making fun of me too much."

They all laughed as they filed out of their group spot into the autumn sun, their coffee was all gone and Youngkyun had a 10 am lecture to go to. They said their goodbyes at the square as they went their own ways and Youngbin couldn't be more thankful he had such a calm and understanding group of friends.

[leeviathans]

I ganked an OC ask list so here’s the whole thing for Max.

   1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything? Maxwell. It was chosen becauseee that’s what his dad named him? Idk. It doesn’t have any significant meaning to it. 2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them? Eeeeeehhhhhhh 3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory? His childhood was pretty ok, save for his stepmother being physically and verbally (mostly physically) abusive. But he learned how to avoid her for the most part and otherwise his childhood was very uneventful. He spent a lot of time hanging around his dad’s lab (aka the basement) as a kid. 4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents? Only knew his dad, his mom is very dead. He was very very close to his dad though. 5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults? He does but the only one I’ll talk about is his half sister. Her name is Liza. Their relationship was always very distant, they grew up practically being just... strangers who happened to share a house. When they’re adults their relationship is much different, they become very good friends. 6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate? He hated school in general and was an awful student. It was’t that he was bad at the classes he was in (he’s actually quite smart), he just absolutely couldn’t be bothered to care. He dropped out his senior year, basically as soon as he was able to do so without anyone stopping him (when he turned 18) 7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood? NOPE. Max really didn’t have any friends at all. He was a weird kid and just kind of couldn’t click with anyone. He did have one friend for a good amount of years of his childhood, though. But his memories of that friend are very fuzzy. 8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals? I mean yeah he likes animals just fine but I don’t think he technically has any pets himself. 9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals? He gets along ok with most animals, nothing remarkable one way or another. However, he does NOT get along with dogs. They don’t seem to ever like him. Just as well, he doesn’t like them either. 10. Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect? He’s actually GREAT with kids. He doesn’t think so, but no he’s awesome at dealing w/ them. Not sure if he’d actually want kids or if he ever has any at any point in his future. 11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies? Nahhh. But in his wolf state he will eat like all the meat in the house. Or go find fresh meat. 12. What is their favourite food? He LOVES junk food. Pizza’s his favorite. Spicy food’s also good, and he has a godawful sweet tooth. 13. What is their least favourite food? Not sure? He’s not horribly picky. Probably acts like super healthy food is nasty though. 14. Do they have any specific memories of food/a restaurant/meal? ...no... this is such a weird question. 15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking? He’s very good at it, and loves doing it! He doesn’t do it often though because he’s incredibly lazy so I doubt anyone really gets food made by him much at all. 16. Do they collect anything? What do they do with it? Where do they keep it? As far as I know he doesn’t collect anything! 17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos? He’s actually not big on photos. He’s indifferent toward others taking them and has zero interest in taking them himself. 18. What’s their favourite genre of: books, music, tv shows, films, video games and anything else Trash. Especially in terms of movies and tv shows. The worse the writing and/or acting is, the more he loves it. 19. What’s their least favourite genres? Probably stuff like sitcoms or daytime TV dramas, things that he really can’t get any amusement out of. 20. Do they like musicals? Music in general? What do they do when their favourite song comes? He likes music a lot! He’d prob just turn the volume up obnoxiously high and sing along with it. 21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper? HE HAS THE WORST TEMPER. He has a really short fuse and it doesn’t take much to make him snap if you’re pushing the right buttons. What he does when he loses his temper varies depending on the situation and who he’s angry at, but his outbursts are usually pretty quick and end just as fast. He holds a HELL of a grudge afterward though. 22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back? Can’t say he has a go-to insult? But he’d insult someone if he felt insulted first. Without hesitation. 23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces? Generally speaking his memory’s pretty good! It’s really nothing remarkable, just kind of average. 24. What is their sleeping pattern like? Do they snore? What do they like to sleep on? A soft or hard mattress? He snores horribly. Sleeps on a really soft and very beat-up and old mattress. Is not aware that mattresses are a thing that need to be replaced eventually. Builds up a very large collection of blankets. 25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves? He finds really dumb things funny. Usually things that aren’t really meant to BE funny. I’d say he has a good sense of humor?  26. How do they act when they’re happy? Do they sing? Dance? Hum? Or do they hide their emotions? He’s VERY visible about it when he’s happy. Smiles a lot, probably hums or sings under his breath, generally is much more sociable and friendly when he’s in a really good mood. 27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad? He completely shuts down when he’s upset. He has a habit of isolating himself and utterly closing himself off to others. He becomes very distant, very unwilling to talk. He doesn’t usually cry like... at all, but when he does it’s really not something he can hide. 28. What is their biggest fear? What in general scares them? How do they act when they’re scared? He does have a weird fear/aversion of clowns/jesters/anything like that. He usually responds to being scared with anger and defensiveness. 29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective? For the most part he’d just acknowledge that it’s really none of his business. He might lightly tease them about it here and there, but otherwise he’s not gonna go sticking his nose into such a personal thing for others. 30. Do they exercise? Regularly? Or only when forced? What do they act like pre-work out and post-work out? HAHA NO HE’D DIE. 31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing? Never struck me as the type to drink much, just occasionally. He is the type to be STUPID-HAPPY when drunk tho. Like everything’s awesome and hilarious and super good mood all around. He’s indifferent towards others being drunk around him and will usually just kinda respond like he normally would to them? 32. What do they dress like? What sorta shops do they buy clothes from? Do they wear the fashion that they like? What do they wear to sleep? Do they wear makeup? What’s their hair like? The boy frequently looks like he fell into a closet in the dark. He usually just buys what’s cheap but he has no idea how to dress to his body type so none of his clothes fit properly. Boring probably-super-worn-out pajama pants to bed. Doesn’t wear makeup. His hair is just kind of a thing that exists and he might brush it like once in the morning and that’s it. 33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties? Boxers 34. What is their body type? How tall are they? Do they like their body? VERY VERY thin. He has a very fast metabolism so he just flatout does not put on weight. He’s... some very tall height above 6′6″, haven’t quite figured out how tall he is exactly. He’s decidedly indifferent toward his body, it’s just kind of there and he has no opinion of it really. 35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure? He has no guilty pleasures, only things that are stupid and awful that he feels no shame in enjoying. 36. What are they good at? What hobbies do they like? Can they sing? He can! He’s good at singing and cooking, interests he picked up years ago from a friend. 37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction? ...he likes to read comic books does that count... otherwise he really doesn’t enjoy reading. He doesn’t have much of an attention span for it. For what it’s worth though he can read pretty fast. 38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had? Sometimes he wishes he were more patient or altruistic and admires those traits a lot in others. Though he’s totally capable of being these things already. 39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging? Nah on both levels. 40. Do they like energy drinks? Coffee? Sugary food? Or can they naturally stay awake and alert? SUGARY FOOD. And soda. And coffee with a lot of sugar in it. 41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship? I have no idea, I just know he thinks his girlfriend is the prettiest thing to exist and is crazy about her. 42. What are their goals? What would they sacrifice anything for? What is their secret ambition? Gonna skip this onnnneee. 43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people? He’s not, and has no opinion of those who are other than that they’re just dong their own thing. 44. What is their favourite season? Type of weather? Are they good in the cold or the heat? What weather do they complain in the most? He likes warm weather. Warm springtime weather is probably ideal. He has zero cold tolerance and will complain a lot if he has to go out in the cold. 45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves? It realllly varies from person to person, since the way he acts depends a lot on how well he knows someone and how comfortable he is with them. 46. Do they make a good first impression? Does their first impression reflect them accurately? How do they introduce themselves? He CAN make a good impression? But he’s usually standoffish with new people. 47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event? He’d have a good time it if it’s something someone really wanted him to go to, but he really wouldn’t socialize much. He’d prob just lowkey cling to people he knows or stay where the snacks are. He’s not the type to want anything to do with formal events on his own, though, and he feels weird dressing up. 48. Do they enjoy any parties? If so what kind? Do they organise the party or just turn up? How do they act? What if they didn’t want to go but were dragged along by a friend? He’s not big on them, but like with formal events he’d be fine if someone else wanted him to go. Otherwise he just really gets nothing out of them? 49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them? He has a sentimental attachment to the beat-up old baseball cap he wears, and especially to the tooth necklace he wears. He’s almost never seen without that necklace. 50. If they could only take one bag of stuff somewhere with them: what would they pack? What do they consider their essentials? He’s psychic. He’s a big cheater and would just bypass this by teleporting whatever he wants/needs at any given time. But generally speaking, when he travels he doesn’t bring much of anything with him.

[kurlykookster]

Forbidden Fruit: Part 13

Pairing- Yoongi x reader (ft all of BTS)

Type- Mystery, supernatural and angst here and there and i guess some fluff

Warnings- Swearing n’ stuff + violence and blood

Word count- 1,726

A/N- Wooo I’m real happy bout this part idk why. :)))) its also longer than my usual of 1000 words so yw ;) and the plots kind of thickening…

im gonna be so broke by the end of this week tho cause like Im going to comic con and all my money will be GoNE and then BTS fucking releases their shit a few days later and rn Im just like Pls StOp ;-;

 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Masterlist |

You sat around the table, all the boys you had met through the past few days sat together with you, eagerly eyeing up the delicious meal Jin had served generously. Your plate was piled high, not by your choice, but by Taehyungs and Jimins, who insisted you needed the nutrition to make up for the lack of food since the start of this ordeal. Since you were a guest, you didn’t dare reject their oversized food offer purely just to be polite, but either way you were pleased as your eyes targeted the plate like a starved beast. You waited until everyone else had begun eating before you yourself dug into the feast, happily gorging away at the sizzling flavours.

Everyone chatted away between bites and you glanced up from your plate every so often to admire the way they all interacted. It was truly harmonious, even with the bickering that ensued after someone took the last piece of something someone else wanted. You laughed to yourself, but almost choked on the mouth full of food that was trying to make its way down your throat. The energetic talking simmered down after everyone had settle to peacefully eating the remainder of the meal, and only some light hearted chatter filled the air here and there.

“So where’s Namjoon at?” Jungkook spoke up, not bothering to look up as the food traveling towards his mouth became his priority.

“I think he’s at a meeting with the Council about Jaebum’s activities.” J-hope answered, his demeanour more serious than what you were used to since meeting him.

“Who’s Namjoon and Jaebum?” you piqued, curious about the new, almost familiar names.

“Namjoon’s our leader-” Jin began.

“Wait, so there are more of you?” you interrupted.

“Yeah, there are seven of us. Anyway, Jaebum is according to Taehyung, the one that tried to kill you.”

“Wait so you actually reported him, V?” Jungkook exclaimed with a full mouth, his eyes wide with surprise.

“Obviously, he almost killed Y/n and who knows who else he could’ve and has killed…” Taehyung justified while sulkily stabbing at the food, in a bad mood about Jaebum.

“Bruh, I feel sorry for him though. When did he even start acting like this anyway? He was fine back when we met him a month ago…” Jimin added.

“There are rumours that someone killed his girlfriend and since then he’s just gone off the rail.” V solemnly stated. His face wasn’t one bit cheery. You noticed how he almost looked broken; maybe they used to be good friends?

“Well either way, it doesn’t justify him killing innocent people all over the city. Hopefully the Council will be lenient and understanding, maybe even offer some therapy…” Jin reassured.

The table went silent, void of any voices.

Yoongi coughed and cleared his throat while glancing up at Jin. “Hey um, do you mind taking a look at Y/n after you’re done eating…” he timidly asked, trying to play it cool. You looked up at the mention of your name and saw Jin look back almost shocked by his request. “…Yeah, sure thing.” Everyone gave each other subtle looks as if confirming what they heard, which confused you. What was the big deal? You simply carried on eating after giving a meek smile to Jin.

You were the last to finish the mountain of food and you got up to go and put your plate in the sink along with the others. You had to hobble your way over as the pain was finally catching up to you after being numb for so long. Jin turned towards you and smiled “Come on, I’ll get you checked out.” And he gently guided you towards what was supposedly his workspace.

Vials of concoctions and various bits and bobs lined the shelves of the room, taking up most of the space. A bookshelf lay on the other side, old and worn out books, along with some newer looking ones, resided on the exposed and grainy timber. A small window was hidden away by pale sheer curtains and the smell of mint and herbs filled your nose as a slight breeze came from the somewhat ajar window that caused the curtains to ruffle and dance.

He sat you down on a chair beside him as he asked you where in particular you felt there were problems. You paused, thinking things over and thought back to Yoongi making a big deal out of your shoulder, so you pointed that out first.

Jin sat himself down opposite you and he reached forward for the material of the shirt on your shoulder before giving you a look that asked for your permission. You nodded back confirming that it was fine for him to see.

As he raised the sleeve of the shirt up you shoulder and up against your collar bone his eyes went wide with astonishment. He poked around a little at the overly large bruise, looking for reactions from you that didn’t seem right. At some point he came into contact with a little more sensitive area and you flinched in response. He instantly took his hand away and began to rummage through the draws of his desk. Soon enough he’d pulled out some organic looking things and began to work away at something. Your eyes followed his every move with complete interest; you could practically see the passion dripping off his hands.

“Has Yoongi told you about the necklace?” he spoke up, still engrossed in his task.

“Just the basics I think, like what it does and stuff…” you said in a trance like state as you continued to watch him work.

“Hmm, I thought he would’ve already, seeing how nice he’s being to you and all…”

“What, is he usually not like this?”

“Well, he is nice, but he tends to not show it. That’s why everyone looked shocked at the table when he openly asked me to take care of you.” he smiled charmingly to himself, looking like a pleased parent. “Anyway, I guess I should fill you in then so that you don’t hurt yourself.” He joked.

“I’m guessing you know what it does for you, like hiding your horns and nullifying your effects on humans, but it isn’t all that great. You have to make sure to take it off after a max of 24 hours of wearing it as it can cause side effects. Side effects include, hallucinations, dizziness, sickness, long term brain damage, on rare occasions it can make people around you act weird, fatigue… uhh memory loss, and some things I can’t REMEMBER..” he laughs to himself, finding his last joke funny. “Oh and in severe cases, death.” You stared at him open mouthed and gulped. The idea of death wasn’t too pleasing.

It wasn’t too long before he had finished and what he had left was an ointment or paste, you weren’t too sure. “Put this on every night and I recommend not wearing the necklace a lot since it kind of stops your enhanced healing abilities from working, which is a waste of ability if you ask me.” He handed you his creation after he transferred it into a pot and you kind of nodded, not knowing what to say about your supposed new healing abilities he claimed you had, but it did somewhat explain why when at the start of the kidnapping you were in absolute pain and swore you had broken bones, but how by the time Jimin and Yoongi had come for you all you had was a severe limp.

The rest of the day you spent watching tv and socialising with the other boys and getting to know them. It was surprisingly pleasant talking to these people that you barely knew but had your life and safety as their responsibility.

As the night came to its climax and all the good movies had stopped airing, you stretched your arms and yawned from exhaustion. “I think I’ll go sleep now.” You murmured to the others and it quickly followed by some ‘Aww’s. “Are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the couch instead cause like I really don’t mind? And like I feel bad for taking your bed…” you directed at Yoongi who sat in the armchair silently. He let out a noise of confirmation as he glanced at you lazily. Reluctantly you took yourself to his room and his bed, and prepared yourself for slumber, all before finally taking off your necklace and applying the ointment on your shoulder like Jin had recommended.

That night held memories that at the time you weren’t too sure if you had imagined. You had gotten thirsty in your sleep and could no longer take the feeling of your drying throat keeping you awake, so you opted to creep your way into the kitchen for a much needed glass of water. The building was eerily silent and lacking any light, however you didn’t want to turn any lights on in case you accidently disturbed someone’s sleep. Yet somehow you managed to find your way to the kitchen with no vision coming from your unadjusted eyes. Eventually you could make out simple and hazy silhouettes as the moonlight from outside ever so slightly sneakily slipped through the curtains into the open space, helping guide your way. After some rummaging you found a glass and carefully eased the tap on, still trying to be stealthy and silent as you poured yourself a drink. A sleepy grunt froze you in your spot as you listened out for further noise, but all you could zone in on was the distant sound of someone’s heavy sleeping breaths. You looked over the kitchen counter and into the living area, and after some squinting you could just barely make out a sleeping form on the couch. Their chests heaved up and down at a tranquil pace, making you jealous of their peaceful sleep.

Just as you tiptoed your way back towards your room, you took one last nearly blind look at the sleeping figure, however what caught your attention this time wasn’t how nice their sleep seemed to be, but how it almost looked like they had horns just like yours. You shook your head a few times and continued your journey back to the cosy bedsheets that awaited your return.

A/n- *deep sigh* i hate hashtags

[captainignatiuspigheart]

Another week, another near-sun tan. This week I’ve seen a friend in person (what the actual fuck?) and found a new direction for exercise. That sounds pretty good, right? It was extremely disconcerting to meet up with a person in real life – I’ve begun to feel a little like all my friends who have long assured me that they’ve met their best friends purely online – but three hours sitting in the local park in a government-approved triangle was lovely. I’ve been seeing others largely as things to be avoided as they blunder towards me, breathing heavily with no sense of physical distance. Apart from the postman and chin tilts to neighbours it’s the most human experience I’ve had of late. I also attended a properly fun Zoom birthday party too (thanks Mr Ben!), so clearly we’re getting used to these things.

Heading out in the direction of Dovecote Lane park eventually sent me that way on my bike too. I’ve found exercise really hard for the last couple of months. I’ve always relied on cycling to work (and the swim at the halfway point) for a few miles in each direction to keep me fit without feeling like I was doing exercise, and it’s been pretty good for keeping me fit and able to eat and drink what I like. Well fuck you very much lockdown, that’s been properly trashed. Cycling in an aimless circle round university park or Beeston has been quite cack, and while jogging on the spot clearly burns calories it’s too tedious. So I’ve started cycling out to Attenborough Nature Reserve. It’s not especially far, but I’ve rarely explored round there, so I’m enjoying heading off down a road with no clue where it goes. It’s not made me late for work… yet. Even when I didn’t sleep at all on Thursday night I got up and went for an explore before work. Must be good!

In between late night walks around Beeston, drinking too much and watching TV, we’ve continued our slow build of the LEGO Brick Bank. It’s quite lovely.

I’ve also finally returned to LEGO Star Wars: The Complete Saga on our Wii. I’m up to 30-something per cent and enjoying it enormously. I have discovered though that our TV really can’t handle proper dark contrast on a sunny day, so I’m dying a lot by falling off edges I can’t see. There have been a few levels where I’ve had to stand right in front of the TV (in sport mode), and just hoped I’d find the exit to a room. Still, I’ve got Indy and General Grievous to hop around and smash stuff, so I’m happy.

Oh yeah, and another bootleg Mando arrived this week – with shiny beskar armour! Baby Yoda will have his Mister Shiny Helmet. Nicely, he comes with a screwdriver accessory which I assume is supposed to be the tracking fob. There is something in me compelling me to acquire more of these guys… I’ve also just got the Armourer, but pics of her will have to wait till I’ve crafted a custom cloak. What is wrong with me…?

  Watching: Hollywood

OK, so this should have been in last week’s post, but I’d forgotten that we’d watched it. That’s no indication of how good it is, everything belongs to the neverwhen at the moment. Plus we caned through it in three nights. This is a very strange show, offering us an alternate Hollywood of the 1950s in which the reviled minorities of the day can actually get a foothold in the industry. The show nails the golden era vibe, from movie producer boardrooms to the grim/delightful gas station gigolos. Over the first couple of episodes the show draws together the flailing careers of half a dozen interesting and purposely diverse young Hollywood hopefuls and then sets them together in a movie, despite, or perhaps because of, their race, gender and sexuality – all things that would have killed their careers in real Hollywood. It’s a very pleasing show; the acting is great, from the keen Jack Castello moonlighting as an escort from the aforementioned gas station (it and its owner, Ernie West, are an absolute highlight), aspiring black actor Camille, Archie the black and gay screenwriter who finds himself in a relationship with Rock Hudson (also a delight, and terrible actor in a fantastic screentest montage), and the awesome double act of Hollywood execs Dick Samuels and Ellen Kincaid, plus the quite distressing sleazy and manipulative agent Henry, played with soiled glee by Jim Parsons. 

It’s really good fun, and a moving story – each success feels wonderful, and Hollywood getting behind this gang is immensely satisfying, as is the acceptance and coming out of various characters at all levels of the business. For me, it remained jarring however, for just how unreal the situation is compared to Hollywood of the ’50s – it never escaped its own unlikeliness. Most certainly worth a watch.

Doing: We Are What We Overcome – Live Specials

We’re continuing to livestream every other Monday on Facebook, this time on trying to be aware of our mental health states, as well as that of others. I feel like we’re getting better at this live babbling thing. It feels less awkward now. We’ll be streaming to Facebook next on Monday 1 June, and you can watch em all right here.

Reading: The Lock Artist by Steve Hamilton

I’ve been through another couple of weeks of struggling to read properly, or at least as quickly as I enjoy. After discarding half a dozen books less than one chapter in, I finally prised open my book cupboard and pulled out the first pretty thing I could find. It was this! A pleasing and sharply written story of a boy traumatised into silence by an event in his childhood (which is only fully revealed toward the end, and works very nicely),  a lad who discovers he has two talents, drawing and lock picking…  We’re given two main story threads to skip between: his life as the lock artist led by a series of pagers offering jobs that he responds to, and how he got into all this trouble in the first place. They’re both peculiarly endearing, and that’s partly down to the charming internal monologue which carries through all of his interactions, since he does indeed remain mute throughout. He’s funny, and sweet, enough of an outsider through his selective mutism to have a cynical eye, and yet through his silence other people just trust him. Including proper big bad criminal types. It all ends rather badly, but we’re told that from the beginning. His lengthy infatuation and distance romance via comic book pages that he and his sort-of girlfriend exchange is genuinely delightful. This is fast-paced and fun, with a harsh shade of real darkness in both his past and future.

Reading: Transformers vol. 1: The World in Your Eyes

This was a hard read for me. I’m a huge fan of IDW’s previous Transformers continuity, which ran for an extraordinary thirteen years (a feat that I don’t think any other Western comic series, still less one based on a toy line, has achieved), taking us from the brutal finale of the Autobot-Decepticon war through to peace time, with wonderful characters, alternating humour with dark political wranglings. This new reboot has quite a lot to live up to… 

We’re taken millions of years back to Cybertron pre-war, introducing us to the sights through the eyes of newly forged Rubble, who’s being shown round by Bumblebee. Of course, it’s the worst possible time to show a new kid round, as the tensions between the establishment and Megatron’s “Ascenticons” are just now bleeding over into violence. It’s a lovely Cybertron, one we’ve only glimpsed before in flashbacks (or, memorably, time travel), and it’s a thriving world with vast architecture, travel and commerce. A successful world, which for what feels like the first time, has organic alien races living alongside the Transformers. It’s sad to think it’ll all be ripped apart soon…

It’s a very pretty comic, but is incredibly slow moving, even for the first chapter introducing a rebooted world. I suspect I’m finding it hard going from the well-established characters of the last continuity to seeing them all reshuffled and now filling different roles. It’s a cool era to set the story in though, and I think it’s got promise.

Building: LEGO Ninjago 70736 Attack of the Morro Dragon

I love Ninjago’s dragons and the insane aesthics the range has pursued down the years, giving us both traditionalish ninjas and dragons, but also Mad Max dieselpunk, enormous mechs, and more recently Tron-style arcade stuff. Bonkers. Oh, and also the stunning Ninjago City builds and the even wilder designs from The LEGO Ninjago Movie.

This set’s a little older, and like most of the Ninjago line I only pick them up when they’re quite severely discounted. Obviously it was the glow in the dark colours that appealed to me most of all, and those lovely wings. It’s a satisfying assembly, with a mini temple build, sky bikes (or something, I don’t really follow the stories), a couple of ninjas and three more of these evil ninjas with transparent legs and heads. Oh, and two ghosts. I’ve already put them somewhere but it’s the dragon I was interested in.

This is actually a smaller set than I thought it was, and comes together very quickly indeed. Despite being larger, and having more pieces than Master Wu’s dragon (a fantastic LEGO set), it’s a shorter build all round. The construction is like many of the others, a combination of big crunchy joints and the little Mixels ones for legs, wings and tail. I always enjoy the design of the dragon head itself, which gives the beastie a lot of character. The chin horn is oddly satisfying! All the glow in the dark pieces give the dragon its lovely roiling curves, but leave it sadly inflexible. It’s a dragon I’d love to coil around a building, but that’s gonna take a severe re-engineering of its body. It’s rather striking, and I imagine this one will remain constructed for quite a while, at least until I want to plunder its glowing parts.

And just because I liked it…

Watching: Never Have I Ever 

We watched this in a single night… I’m always thrilled to stumble across shows with under half-hour episode lengths at present. This is a pretty straightforward US highschool outsider tale, from the somewhat unusual perspective of an Indian-American family. That’s a pretty familiar trope in UK TV, and was very welcome in the even-more-familiar US high school setting. I’m not sure that there’s anything exceptional here, but it’s warmly told, with a number of fun and occasionally over the top performances, all solidly conforming to our expectations of a high school drama. I had some trouble figuring out how old the characters were supposed to be as it’s the usual casting combo of girls who must be in their twenties, but look about 14, and guys who are plainly in their mid-thirties. No wonder kids are so confused these days etc. As usual it’s the vibe between the BFFs that makes this fun to watch, particularly drama-queen Ramona Wong (wonderfully and worryingly odd in the lamentably cancelled Santa Clarita Diet). As filled with diversity and coming out stories as you could hope for, this is plenty of fun, if not especially memorable. Oh yeah, and it’s narrated by John McEnroe. Yes, the tennis player. 

Doing: MissImp’s Virtual Improv Drop-In – “Specific and True” with Terje Brevick

Continuing our mission to bring you improv from everywhere, this week’s episode features Norwegian improviser, Terje Brevick, with fun games and a good reminder of the value of details and honesty in improv.

Last Week – a really busy week! Featuring another mental health livestream, books: The Lock Artist & Transformers vol 1, TV: Hollywood & Never Have I Ever, LEGO: Morro dragon and MORE. Sleep now please. #books #tv #lego #stuff https://wp.me/pbprdx-8EZ Another week, another near-sun tan. This week I’ve seen a friend in person (what the actual fuck?) and found a new direction for exercise.

[recentanimenews]

An Introduction to the "SAIYUKI" Anime

An Introduction to the SAIYUKI Anime... As Told By a Fan Who Read the Manga Almost a Decade Ago

By Dee Hogan

After being off the air for nearly 13 years, Saiyuki has at last returned to grace our televisions with attractive men beating the crap out of each other while waxing poetic about their dark-and-stormy pasts. But with Saiyuki's previous anime seasons scarce and its manga volumes even scarcer, you might be hesitant to check out the new series.

  Well, fear not! I, an ardent Saiyuki fan who read the manga as it was coming out almost 10 years ago, am here to provide you with the story exactly as I remember it. Which is to say: Very vaguely! Now you, too, can enjoy Saiyuki Reload Blast as if you were right there with the rest of the fandom, reading the manga in the mid '00s, selling the volumes to help pay for grad school, and now racking your brain to piece together the semi-existent plot of that gloriously feelsy action series you still love so very, very much.

  Come along with me on this journey, won't you? This journey...TO THE MAX!

Caution: Loving irreverence, questionable accuracy, and spoilers for the Saiyuki and Saiyuki Reload manga below. Content warning for mentions of child abuse.

  But First, a History Lesson!

Saiyuki began as a manga created by Kazuya Minekura. Well, I guess technically it began as the Chinese novel Journey to the West. Saiyuki is based on that classic epic, in the same way that Taco Bell is based on Mexican food.

Journey to the West is a Buddhist-inspired comic adventure story that follows a monk, a monkey king, a half-pig man, and an exiled immortal as they travel to India to retrieve sacred sutras. It's a complete story that has been translated in its entirety into English, unlike the Saiyuki manga, which is neither complete nor fully translated. Tokyopop imploded (along with half the U.S. anime industry) in the late '00s, leaving us one volume short from finishing Saiyuki Reload, and we've seen neither hide nor hair of the manga since. I am still salty about this.

  Pictured: Saiyuki sexily locked out of the U.S.

  The anime adaptations have fared somewhat better, at least: the three TV series (Gensomaden Saiyuki, Saiyuki ReLoad, and Saiyuki ReLoad Gunlock) were all released in the U.S., as was the film (Saiyuki Requiem) and the most recent OVA series (Saiyuki Gaiden). I only caught about 15 episodes of the anime, but my memory is that it's a reasonably faithful adaptation, albeit one that tones down the R-rated elements and adds a bunch of filler stories. Depending on where you live, you can stream both the original TV series and the Gaiden OVAs, but the two ReLoad sequels are confined to dusty DVD shelves for the time being.

  And if all these title variants are confusing you, then congratulations! You're well on your way to being a Saiyuki fan, because they're confusing to me, too. Saiyuki is to manga as Kingdom Hearts is to video games. The series has been running off and on for twenty whopping years, and it's splintered in a  bunch of directions along the way. For now, all you really need to know is that the central story goes Saiyuki, then Reload, then Reload Blast. Everything else is prequels and side stories.

  As for what that central story is all about, well...

    The Story!

Saiyuki takes place in Shangri-La, a fantasy world created by plucking Chinese fiction and history fruits from across the centuries, tossing them in a blender, and adding a splash of good old-fashioned manga tropes for spice. Humans and youkai share the land, six-shooters are as common as swords, and the main characters ride around in a jeep that's actually a dragon. (Or is it a dragon that's actually a jeep?)

  Things are going great until a youkai sorceress hooks up with a mad scientist and they start brainwashing youkai into murdering the faces off every human they can get their hands on. Then the local humans start panicking and murdering the faces off every youkai they can get their hands on, whether they've been brainwashed or not, and pretty soon everyone in Shangri-La is starting to feel pretty Shangri-Low.

To keep the peace, the local Bodhisattvas decide to send their Top Man, Double-Oh Sanzo, out West to find the culprits and tell them to knock it off. Our priest is joined on his quest by three companions: Goku, Gojyo, and Hakkai, each with their own uniquely upsetting backstory and particular set of skills. They're also all youkai (or at least youkai-adjacent), but they've been equipped with handy-dandy power limiters to keep them from going berserk like the others.

  Together our quartet travel across the lands, getting into scrapes, fighting off the minions their mysterious antagonists send after them, and frequently threatening to kill each other as they journey ever Westward, hoping to one day reach their foes and stop their nefarious scheme.

    And I'd tell you all about that nefarious scheme, but I have straight-up forgotten it. The Big Bads' oh-so-sympathetic underlings are prominent in the original Saiyuki series, but then they have to take an extended spa vacation, so most of Reload is one long semi-self-contained arc about cowboys and necromancers. It's GREAT, mind you, but all the tension and shootouts and good good angst have shoved what's-her-name and scientist-face and their plan to do something-or-other straight out of my head.

  Honestly? It doesn't matter. Saiyuki is about the journey, not the destination. More to the point, it's about the people you get to hang out with along the way.

  And speaking of...

    The Characters!

  There are a lot of compelling supporting characters (mostly antagonists) who drift in and out of the Saiyuniverse, particularly Kougaiji and his merry band of Youkai In Need of Hugs. But the story is carried by its four protagonists—most of whom you're also going to want to hug, and two of whom may try to kill you if you do—so you're gonna want to get to know them.

    A chain-smoking, booze-slinging, trigger-happy, permanently irritated Buddhist priest, he's the current holder of the Sanzo title and the wielder of some very powerful sutras, though he's usually content to keep those stored away and just shoot people in their dumb faces instead (all faces are dumb to Sanzo, I'm pretty sure). He met his trio of party members through various traumatic adventures and brought them together, offering them a chance to start over. Despite his grouchy exterior, deep down he's a good guy.

  ...Deeper than that. No, further. Little further. There it is! See? Good guy.

  Sanzo's history is told in fits and starts, which is to say I can't keep it straight anymore. I feel pretty confident saying he had a rough childhood, because this is Saiyuki we're talking about. And I know he witnessed his master's murder and it messed him up right proper. I have a working theory that Mr. Mad Scientist (Jianyi! That's his name!) is involved, because he used to be a Sanzo priest himself and sure seems to know a lot about our Sanzo, but take that with a grain of salt. Sure would make for some good drama though, yeah?

    Goku's the youngest-looking of the gang and often acts like it. Don't let that fool you, though: He's actually a powerful monkey king who was imprisoned on a mountain for hundreds of years. His memory's as patchy as mine, so all he really remembers is being lonely and then Sanzo freeing him and then him not being lonely anymore. See, happy things do happen in this story!

  Like another Son Goku you may know (who's also based on the monkey king in Journey to the West, by the by), this one fights with a staff and loves to eat. He's generally cheerful and friendly, but if you take off his diadem, he gets real angry, and not just because that diadem brings his whole outfit together, you uncultured boor. Mostly it's because the diadem is his power limiter, and removing it makes him hulk out somethin' fierce.

  I know this is the part where I'm supposed to say “you won't like him when he's angry,” but berserker Goku leads to some of the best fights and dramatic beats of the series. I like him when he's angry a lot more than I should.

    Half-youkai, half-human, Gojyo is the child of a “forbidden” affair between the two species. A literal redheaded stepchild, he was abused by his youkai stepmom and shunned by society at large. He had an older brother he loved (not like that, you pervs) who stepped in to defend him, to the point where he was eventually forced to kill his own mother to protect his brother. The two eventually meet again and it's... it's real sad, y'all. Gojyo's backstory is real sad.

  Nowadays he's a foul-mouthed gambler who likes to pick fights with Sanzo and quarrel with Goku, but he's maybe the most loyal member of the team and (despite being the least powerful) doesn't hesitate to step up to defend others. An asshole with a heart of gold, more or less. He fights with a sickle-flail that doesn't make sense but looks real cool, and he's technically a womanizer, but don't let that stop you from 'shipping him with one of his teammates. Gojyo is Extremely Shippable, you see.

    There are two kinds of people in this world: Those who think Hakkai is the best character in Saiyuki, and those who are wrong. Since the rest of the team has zero chill, Hakkai has an excess of chill to balance them out. Perpetually smiling and perpetually The Saddest, he's the team peacemaker and magic user, the owner-driver of the Dragon-Jeep, and a secret badass. Hakkai has removed his power limiters exactly twice, and exactly twice he has ruined his opponents. Other fun facts include: Can and will drink you under a table. Technically died once to save his friends. (Don't worry, he got better.)

  His backstory is basically one big D: emoji. Born a human, he had an older sister he loved (yes, exactly like that, you pervs) who was kidnapped by the resident evil youkai noble. Hakkai slaughtered ONE THOUSAND MUTHAFUGGIN YOUKAI on his way to rescue her, but she died anyway because Kazuya Minekura is a cruel, cruel manga-ka. Also, it turns out that when you slaughter ONE THOUSAND MUTHAFUGGIN YOUKAI, you, uh...turn into a muthafuggin youkai yourself. Womp womp.

  Hakkai wasn't doing so hot after all that. In a fit of guilt and despair, he even ripped out his own eye to appease a vengeful youkai (he eventually replaced it with a fake one, and got a rad monocle to match). He was ready to rip out the other eye, too, but Team Sanzo showed up in time to slap his hand away and offer him a new life and a second chance. They're his FAMILY now and he loves them VERY MUCH and they all need to PROTECT each other and—

  Er. Ah-hem.

  So. Uh. Yeah. I used to scour eBay looking for a UFO doll of this guy because that's how badly I needed to give him a hug. Hakkai is Best Boy. It is known.

    Okay, But What's it About?

  Kicking ass and having feelings and looking damn fine while doing it.

  And if that's not enough for you, then here's a bit more: The title of the manga (最遊記) is a play on the Japanese title for Journey to the West (西遊記). They're both read as Saiyuki, but the manga replaces the kanji for “west” with the kanji for “most” or “extreme.”  With one simple character, our journey to the West has turned into a journey... TO THE MAX!

  And, honestly, that's what Saiyuki is about. Big expansive world, big bombastic fights, big heart-on-sleeve emotions, big tragic histories, big meandering narrative. Everything is cranked up to 11. The series first ran in a shounen magazine (targeted at boys) before later finding a home in a josei one (targeted at adult women), which I think speaks to the way it dances between all those extremes: From rip-roaring action-adventure to character (melo)drama and on over to broad or black comedy before bouncing right back to one of its other modes again.

    Is it over-the-top, unfocused, and unapologetically packed with shipteases and emotional fanservice? Oh, yeah. One hundred percent. But, all teasing aside, I love it. I used to devour new volumes in one sitting, cheer out loud during the fights, bite my nails when my boys were in danger, giggle at their down-time bickering, and lap up all those theatrical, quasi-philosophical monologues.

  I love it in a way that's hard to put into words because it's so intricately tied to being a stressed-out high school/college kid in the mid-to-late '00s, but I think it comes down the series' overall tone and message. Because, despite its many moments of levity (particularly in the early going), as bullets fly and youkai rampage, the story always comes back to a bunch of sad-yet-defiant survivors trying to make it in a world that seems fundamentally, maybe even permanently broken.

  It's devastatingly grim at times, but even at its most dismal, it always manages to offer a kind of skeptical hope instead of just pessimistic tragedy porn. “Everything is terrible, but I'm not gonna give up,” in essence. Or maybe more to the point: “Everything is terrible, but I have people who support me, so I can get through it.” And there are times even now when that message has been a comfort to me, melodramatics or no.

  Saiyuki is too gleefully ridiculous, both in terms of world-building and staging, for me to take it too seriously or champion it as A Great Classic That Everyone Should Try. Frankly, if you read “a jeep that's actually a dragon” and didn't at least crack a smile, you probably should have walked away right there.

  Even so, with its raging battles, skewed sense of humor, smokin' hot anti-heroes, and willingness to dive head-first into sensationalized but nevertheless sincere explorations of trauma, depression, community, and identity, it scratches a particular itch and does so very effectively. Saiyukiis intense and bombastic, as overloaded with bullets as it is with feelings. It's stylish, heartfelt, top-tier trash, and I can't wait to roll around in it all over again. Lock and reload, gang. It's gonna be a blast.

  About the author, Dee Hogan

Dee is a nerd of all trades and a master of one. She has bachelor’s degrees in English and East Asian studies and an MFA in Creative Writing. To pay the bills, she works as a technical writer. To not pay the bills, she devours novels and comics, watches far too much anime, and cheers very loudly for the Kansas Jayhawks. You can hang out with her at The Josei Next Door, a friendly neighborhood anime blog for long-time fans and newbies alike, as well as on Tumblr and Twitter.

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