#my voice went back up to the hosts normal register I hate it so much.

[hyacinthcollective]

Masking is strange. I wasn't doing this with our siblings, but now our mother is here, and apparently, I can act like the host. It just feels really weird to do so.

[myherowritings]

PART 3. ACCIDENTAL SUGAR DADDY?

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. happy new year y’all! :3 i hope you have a good 2021 and here is some flirty ceo!shouto for u to enjoy as we enter the new year hehe ;) thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

“I heard you dropped by this weekend,” you said as a greeting, a playful smile on your lips. “Looking for me?”

If the tips of his ears didn’t tinge pink, you would have guessed Shouto was completely unaffected by your words. 

“Mn.” He drew his attention away from your gaze and pointedly adjusted his cufflinks. “Good morning to you too.” 

You laughed, accepting you wouldn’t get anything out of your attempt at teasing. “Morning, Shouto. How was your weekend?” 

The cafe was quite busy this hour, but Miyazaki took over the other register to alleviate the stress (though, what she really said was so you and pretty boy—who happened to be rich rich—could talk). Whatever the reason, you were glad for a small break whenever you could get it.

“You could say it was busy,” he replied, sounding a bit tired. For the first time since you met him, you actually noticed how exhausted he looked. You wanted to put cucumbers on his eyes and lay his head down on your lap to coax him to sleep. Nonetheless, he smiled softly at you. “And yours? I hope you were able to have time to rest and relax.”

You nodded. “I just slept a lot and caught up on the shows I missed throughout the week.”

“The real way a weekend should be spent.” 

His voice was teasing but he didn’t sound mocking. Just...somewhat playful. There was something about his tone that made you want to hear it again.

“Something tells me you need a weekend away where you could just relax and do nothing,” you commented, tapping the back of your pen to your chin. “Do you not have any days off at work?” 

He considered this. “Depends what you mean by day off.” 

“If you have to ask that, that probably means you don’t have a day off, huh?” you said with a frown, holding your hand over your chest as you sighed dramatically. “You poor thing. Overworked and tired. Maybe I should steal you away one weekend and get you to just relax.” 

You were only half-serious.

“Maybe you should,” agreed Shouto, sounding full-serious.

“Maybe I will,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. Maybe you could if you actually had his number… Then, feeling shameful you said, “But, ah, anyway, what can I get for you today? We actually have cheese danishes again!”

His face brightened. “You do? I’ll take five dozen.”

With a laugh you took down his order. You really weren’t sure where all these pastries were going when he bought it, but judging from his expression, you figured it must be somewhere good. 

“And for your drink?”

“This time I’ll have a large green tea with almond milk, please.” 

You nodded but tilted your head to the side in question. “No coffee with extra shots of espresso today?” 

“I add too much sugar and creamer to my coffee,” he admitted sheepishly. “And with all the baked goods I’ve been eating I realized I may have had an excess amount of sweets lately.” 

With an understanding laugh you patted his hand that was resting on the counter woefully. “I can definitely relate to that. If too many sweets are bad for you they shouldn’t have made it taste so good.”

Shouto glanced down at where your hands touched, an expression you couldn’t quite discern on his face. Averting your gaze, you quickly pulled your hand back. Was that inappropriate of you? Did he find it too pushy?

“Oh— Sorry about that,” you said, rubbing your elbow with your opposite hand. “Got a bit ahead of myself there.”

“No, it’s fine.” He blinked once. “I didn’t mind.”

Unsure if he meant anything by that and unsure if you were reading too much into things, you simply brushed the topic off and moved on to getting his order in telling him the price. 

“Paying by card again, I’m assuming?” you asked before hitting the appropriate button on the screen.

“Correct.”

By now the sight of the sleek and pretty credit card was one you grew rather fond of as he scanned over the payment terminal and signed his name. Was it weird you wanted to examine his signature more closely? Shouto seemed like the type of person who would have a fancy signature that somehow looked like art. 

As per routine, you told him his order would be ready for pick up at his right and, before he left the register, he thanked you and gave you another $100. 

Did it feel any less strange than the first time he tipped you? Not really, no. But you still weren’t going to complain about a generous tip from a willing customer.

Before he left with his cheese danishes and cup of tea in hand, he stopped by next to you with a small smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You grinned back. “Can’t wait, Shouto!” 

— ✩ —

This went on for a whole other week. By this point, he had given you over $1,000 in tip and you were starting to feel like you should give him something in return despite him assuring you he didn’t expect anything. 

When you told your friends about the nice guy you met while you were working and they asked for the details, the first thing they said in response to your situation was, “Sugar daddy?” 

Before they planted that thought into your head, you just took it as a rich businessman who hated the rich and believed in redistribution of wealth—you couldn’t complain about that. That made him even more appealing, if you must say. But once Kaminari and Ashido whispered those two words, you couldn’t help but see the comparisons. 

You had no issues with sugar daddies or sugar babies; as long as they were two consenting adults, what did it matter to you? It just wasn’t something you were looking for at the time and you didn’t want Shouto to get the wrong impression or involve yourself in something you weren’t ready to. 

As you commuted to work for your next morning shift, you told yourself today was the day you’d thank him one final time for the tips, but tell him you couldn’t accept anymore. You were sure he’d be understanding but you also hoped it wouldn’t deter him from coming to see you. That was the last thing you’d want. 

“Mrs. Miyazaki,” you said between customers. “When Shouto comes in, do you think I can step away from the register to talk to him for a little? I promise it’ll be brief!”

She waved her hand dismissively. “That’s not a problem. Are you finally going to ask him out or something?”

You scratched the back of your neck. “Or something, yeah.” 

Thankfully, by the time Shouto arrived today, it was later than he normally came, meaning rush hour was almost dying down. 

“Good morning! Someone’s a little late today,” you teased. “Overslept?” 

“I wish,” he sighed wistfully. “I had a meeting early this morning and it just ended. Didn’t have a chance to pick up some coffee or pastries beforehand.” 

You frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope whoever was hosting the meeting at least provided you guys drinks and snacks!” 

He paused. “He did, but… I just thought yours were better.” 

Smiling at the compliment, you preened. “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised. And I’m glad you were able to drop by still. Would’ve missed you too much otherwise.”

Again, you were only half-serious.

“Hm. I would’ve missed you too.”

And again, he seemed full-serious. Not that you minded. 

After taking his order and watching him pay, you pulled him to the side, looking over at your boss so she knew what was going on. She gave you a brief nod as you turned your attention to Shouto. 

A lapse of silence went by and he spoke up, “Did you have something you wanted to say?” 

“Yeah, actually.” You wrung your fingers nervously, hoping you wouldn’t say anything to offend him since you knew his actions were coming from a kind place. “I just wanted to say… I’m not really looking for a sugar daddy right now.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “Pardon?” 

You stared at him, unsure what to say. 

“I— Sorry. I wasn’t… It’s not my intention to be a...sugar daddy either.” Shouto’s face flushed a bright pink that made your own cheeks warm up in response. 

“But the—the money? I just… I guess I thought…” You winced.

So he wasn’t trying to pick up a sugar baby… Well, this was awkward. But regardless, you think you’ve gotten close enough to him to the point where it would feel weird accepting money from him. 

“I’m sorry if I was unclear. It really is just a tip to show appreciation for your service here.” 

You shook your head. “No! Sorry, that makes sense! My friends just said… And then I…” you trailed off, feeling a million times more flustered than when you started. “Sorry about that. The sugar daddy mishap aside, I still wanted to say that I really appreciate the tips you gave, but I don’t think I can accept them anymore.” 

Slowly, he nodded, adjusting the collar of his dress shirt. “I understand. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened!” you were quick to assure. “I really am thankful, but… I think we’ve gotten too close for me to be comfortable accepting that much money, you know?”

Shouto tilted his head to the side, listening intently. 

“Like,” you tried to explain, fiddling with your apron, “over the past few weeks I just think we’ve gotten to know each other more and I think of you as a friend of sorts now.” You peered at him through your lashes, hoping your words were making sense. “I think as a relationship develops—for me, at least—adding money into the mix can cause weird power imbalances if not communicated properly. And I just don’t want that for us.” 

He thought through your words for a while before agreeing. “I get what you mean. I wouldn’t want to unintentionally make you feel like you owe me anything, so if you’re not comfortable with it, I can stop.” 

“Thanks, Shouto,” you said with a beam, glad he was so receptive. Really though, what else did you expect? From your interactions with him you took him to be kindhearted and open. Of course he wouldn’t be upset over this. “But just to be clear, this doesn’t mean you should stop coming! Right? I don’t want to stop being your friend or anything!” 

With a small laugh, he nodded. “Sure. I wouldn’t want to part with my favorite cafe. And I’d like to keep being friends as well.”

Those words warmed your heart. You really were nervous about this confrontation earlier; you didn’t want voicing your opinion to mean ending your friendship. (Although, if you sharing what you were comfortable with was enough to end a relationship, then you supposed it was bound to be a toxic and stifling one in the long run and it was good to know in the beginning to end it before it could grow.) Turns out, however, that you didn’t even need to worry about that. He was understanding and sweet and you were glad to have gotten this out of the way.

“Well, as new friends,” you said, gently nudging his side, “maybe we should get to know each other more? Exchange numbers… Hang out outside of this cafe…” You ran through some suggestions, almost bouncing on your feet in excitement. “I mean, I know you’re always so busy and might not have much free time to hang out. But— If you’re ever free one weekend…” 

“I’d enjoy that,” he cut in, saving you from blabbering your mouth off and accidentally embarrassing yourself. “Didn’t you say you’d steal me away from work to relax? I’m still holding you to that.” 

The beginnings of a smirk formed on his face as he looked at your flustered expression. Was he teasing you?

You huffed, pretending to be insulted by his playful mocking. “Guess I’ll really have to do it then.” 

“Guess so.”

“Maybe you should give me your number first so we could plan it.” 

“Okay.”

He handed you his phone and you handed him yours, both of your adding your numbers to the contact list. Smiling, you held the phone in front of the two of you to take a contact picture of yourself for Shouto’s phone. To your complete surprise, he laughed before promptly following suit and taking a selfie for his contact image. 

“Cute,” you said when he handed you back your phone. 

“You too.” 

Placing your device back in your pocket, you looked at him, hand on hip. “Since when did you become such a smooth-talker? Am I going to have to guard my heart now?” 

His only response was a shrug, but you could see hints of a smile playing on his face. The two of you seemed to be smiling a lot lately, you couldn’t help but notice. 

“I should probably let you go to work now—and I should go back to mine.” You gestured to the growing line at the front of the store. Your manager looked like she had things under control, but you didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness. “You should text me later though. If you want.”

“I’ll do that,” Shouto promised, picking up his drink and pastry boxes from the side counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. And… I’ll message you soon.” 

As you watched him leave the store, you were certain you had a silly look on your face as you stared in a trance. 

“I’ll turn my phone off silent just for you!” you said to his back, hoping he understood what a momentous occasion this was. Your phone was always on silent (unless you were playing a game, of course). But for Shouto, you could handle hearing the obnoxious ringtone and text tone. 

With an amused expression he nodded before waving goodbye.

Later on that day, at the end of your shift, you noticed a new message from a certain someone that made your stomach flutter.

Shouto: Hi there. It’s Shouto :)

You never knew those four simple words would be enough to keep the grin plastered on your face up until the moment your head hit your pillow to fall asleep. But, damn— Were you glad that happened to be the case. 

a/n: whY WAS SHOUTO AND Y/N EXCHANGING NUMBERS SO CUTE idk that scene got me all blushy and :DDD HFJDKSF like taking a selfie with shouto and getting his number? only goal in life BFHFGF,, also y/n said no more tips how we feeling? ;o 

what to expect in the next part:

an unwanted visitor ಥ_ಥ

shouto has a...proposition for y/n 

FLIRTING FLUFF SO MUCH CUTENESS U MIGHT CRY

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~

[gotnofucks]

No One’s Bitch

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: If Steve thought you’ll bend to his will, he was dead wrong. This kitty has some claws.

Words: 1.5k

Warning: Non-con/Dub-con, smut, kinda hate fuck?, kidnapping, language, breeding kink, 18+ ONLY

A/N: This is my Happy Hoelentine’s Day gift to @mariahthelioness29​ . Hope you enjoy this love, wishing you a very orgasmfull Valentines! This amazing challenge was hosted by the very talented @amythedvdhoarder​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ and @chrissquares​. You girls are amazing! 

“We need an ultrasound!” Steve shouted, carrying you into Bruce’s office and dumping you on a stretcher. Your hands beat at his shoulder in protest, a snarl ripping from you as he finally let go.

“I told you I can walk!” You scream at him and he scowls at your tone.

Bruce blinked at you two for a minute before sighing, wheeling out his ultrasound machine next to you and motioning you to pull up your top.

“Did you finally get her pregnant?” He asked in an almost bored voice and you wrinkled your nose at him in disgust. The nerve of everyone in this goddamn tower!

“No, he didn’t, and if I have it my way he never will.” You huff, earning a disapproving look from both males. Bruce squeezed some cold gel onto his probe and put it on your stomach, gliding it along your stomach and abdomen, eyes trained on the screen.

“Don’t be too sure about it. I’ll like to see you try to escape once I put a baby inside you.” Steve growled and your nostrils flared in anger. You flipped him off, uncaring of his strength and threats. When he kidnapped you and claimed you months ago, Steve didn’t expect you to fight this long. He thought he’d be able to extinguish your fire, force you into a loving relationship and be with him. Well, the jokes on him. You’re no one’s bitch. Not even Captain America’s.

You looked at the monitor too, biting your lip nervously as Bruce pressed the probe deeper, making you hiss.

“What the fuck?” He sputtered, raising his brows at you and Steve. You rolled your eyes, relaxing a little. Thank fuck its not stuck in your throat. “Is that a ring in your stomach?”

Steve slumped on the stool beside you, sighing deep.

“She swallowed it.” He simply said and you sat up quickly, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“Blond fucker’s a liar” You snap, “Who the fuck hides a ring in food anymore? Can you get anymore cliché?”

Steve slams his hands on the stretcher beside you, caging you in as he pressed in close to touch his nose to yours. The musky scent of his aftershave wafted over to you and clung to your pores, making you want to sneeze.

“I was trying to be romantic.” He said. “It’s valentine’s day tomorrow. I wanted to spend it as fiancés.”

You breathed out a disbelieving laugh, still surprised at how normal everyone treated this absurdity of your relationship with Steve. If it could even be called that.

“You thought that snatching me away from my family and life was romantic? You thought that taking me against me will and fucking me unconscious every night was romantic. What does a man like you know of romance and love, Mr. Rogers?” You sneer in his face.

Even as his hand came to fist your hair and pull, you don’t cry out in pain. You’ve trained yourself well enough to somehow keep the tears in your eyes and not have them spill over.

“Don’t sit here pretending you don’t come on my dick like a slut, darling” Steve said, his voice low and deep. You barely registered Bruce clearing his throat and walking away, too busy focusing on the rapidly darkening blue in Steve’s eyes.

“If we’re being honest here Steve, then your meaty cum-gun is the only redeemable part about you.” You sweetly said to him and whined as you were roughly push on your back, Steve’s body covering yours.

His lips descended on yours in a frenzy, hands frantic as they pulled at your pants. Months ago, you’d have been embarrassed by the moans that spilled from your parted mouth, but when it became clear that earth shattering orgasms was the only reward for you in this shitshow of an arrangement, you decided to make the best of it.

You pulled on Steve’s hair, biting his lip roughly when he pulled out his hard length and slapped it against your glistening folds, lubing himself in your juices. He growled against you, two fingering unceremoniously thrust into your opening that had you arching your back with pain and pleasure.

“Pathetic” Steve spat, “Only have to touch you and you become a whiny cumslut.”

You groan, wrapping your legs around his huge body to urge him closer. Heels dug into his back and you raked your nails across his scalp and back, leaving bite marks across his shoulder that had him pushing inside you with one hard thrust. You threw your head back, a choked sound howled directly in Steve’s mouth as he hips became flush with yours.

“Look at you, my greedy girl” He mocked, pulling back until only his tip was inside before plunging back inside. “Can’t get enough of daddy’s cock, can you?”

The fragile stretcher threatened to give out under the force of you both, squeaking dangerously as Steve powered into you, sweat and spit mixing on your skin and leaving you damp.

“Is that all you got, Captain?” You challenged, “Can’t make me stay even with a magic cock, can you?”

Steve’s hands took yours and pinned them beside your head, hips almost a blur as he went in and out of you, hitting so deep he seemed to move your womb.

“Fucking bitch, I’ll have you round with my seed. We’ll see how well this mouth runs when it’s too busy sucking my cock and singing lullabies to our brat” He said.

Your brows knit together as he hit a spot inside you that had you mewling, breath coming out in broken pants. You put your lips at Steve’s eyes, licking his earlobe before pulling on it.

“Can’t even get me pregnant. Maybe you should get Bucky to help.”

That was the last straw and Steve’s growl was almost animalist as he ripped away your top, sucking greedily on your hardened nipples while his dick speared you open. You screamed as the stretcher finally snapped, you and Steve tumbling to the floor, still fucking like animals in heat.

The coil inside you wound up tighter the harder Steve went, his tongue swirling inside your mouth and not letting you speak. Your eyes were locked with his furious ones, hips coming up to meet every thrust of his with your own, your juices dripping down your thighs and making a mess.

“I’ll fuck you ten time a day, I’ll spread you open and fuck you in front of everyone until the only thing you’re capable to thinking and saying is my name. You think you won, but no baby, I can do this all day!” He hissed at you and pinched your clit harshly. You snapped, a powerful orgasm tearing through you and making your world turn upside down. You howled, an agonized scream of pure, unadulterated, sinful pleasure echoing around the room.

Steve fucked you through your high, almost close to his own release when you used all your strength to turn him over, straddling him and bouncing on his cock. His eyes widened, his dick going deeper as you took hold of his shoulders and sank down on him with a moan.

“Come inside me then, Captain. Come, fill me up. Let’s see if you manage to fuck a brat inside me today after all.” You provoked and Steve grunted, huge arms holding you close as he twitched inside you, his cum painting your insides.

You collapsed on him, sweaty and spent, breath laboured. He wasn’t much better, the broken stretcher digging into his back as he pulled you closer, nuzzling his nose in your neck. You tried to jerk away, rejecting his affections but he only held tighter, forcing a sweet, almost innocent kiss on your pursed lips.

“One day, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll fall in love with me.” Steve promised and your eyes narrowed. Covered in his scent and essence, you were as marked by him as a tree peed on by a dog.

“One day, you’ll wake up with a dagger inside your chest and you’ll only have yourself to blame.” You remarked. Steve lazily chuckled, bringing you even closer. You wondered if he planned to fall asleep on the floor with you when Bruce came in, resolutely looking at the ceiling.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” The doctor bemoaned and you sarcastically smiled at him despite him still looking away.

“What, haven’t you ever witnessed a good shag?” You ask and Steve’s chest rumbled beneath you. “And you, let go. I need to get that fucking ring out of me.”

Steve sighed, reluctantly releasing you and sitting up. He gave you his t-shirt to wear, your own laying in tatters on the floor.

“Will I need a surgery?” You asked Bruce who was grimacing at the mess in his small office.

“No, it should come out naturally in a few days.” He said. When you just looked at him dumbstruck, he wrinkled his nose, a little amused. “You’ll have to pass it out.”

Steve’s eyes met yours and you resisted the urge to throw something at him.

“I’ll get you a new one.” He said dismissively and you stomped your feet, fixing yourself the best you could and moved towards the door.

“I am not marrying you!” You shout over your shoulder, pushing open the door and not sparing a glance behind.

“We’ll see.” Steve said, a smile on his lips.

[svchengss]

hey barista! | l.dh

summary | befriending the barista from your local cafe doesn’t seem too bad

pairing | lee donghyuck x fem!reader ft. jaemin who’s a rlly cute side character in this :(

genre | fluff, angst, slight humour (?)

warnings | a kiss?? i don’t think there’s any but if i missed anything do lmk !!

word count | 3k+

s. tg | @hyuckefi [my apologies since i didn’t release a proper teaser for this 🙏🏻]

author’s note | this is my first fic exceeding 1k words so if u enjoyed reading this, please leave some feedbacks !! rb’s are also appreciated :D ALSO I SUCK AT SUMMARIES LMAO PLS IGNORE THAT

just another day of working at palm coffee, the same old routine. cleaning the countertop and tables before opening up the cafe, prepping the ingredients - more for top favourites! - and examining the machines to make sure they’re working properly. that’s some of hyuck’s daily routines as a barista. he didn’t mind them though, he loved his job. he couldn’t specify the reason why but all these tasks are genuinely interesting to him.

seeing you drop by the cafe is a normal occurrence for him. since you are a regular customer after all, the rest of the staff already know you well. heck, they’re even good friends with you. jaemin hangs out with you more than he does despite being jaemin’s childhood friend. except for him, he doesn’t really know why. he’s not really shy, considering the fact that he’s a social butterfly. he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything to you, the only times he did so was to take your orders when the rest of the workers were busy in the store.

upon hearing the doorbell chime which signals a new customer entering the cafe, hyuck blurted out the usual line. “hello, welcome to palm coffee! how can i help-“, looking up from the cash register only to find you in a disheveled state. “-you?” he eyes you up and down, noting how a few strands of your hair were out of place, the nude lipstick smeared on the left corner of your mouth and your outfit looks really rushed. 

“sorry, what was your name again, hyuck right?” you quickly glanced at the nametag hanging nicely on his apron. “i’m in a rush right now, can i get a,” you scanned over the menu behind him, “uh, white coffee, please?”. 

“that will be six dollars. you can use the restroom in the meantime to, you know, touch up your makeup and stuff,” he takes the bills from your hand, putting them in the machine in front of him before flashing you with that warm smile of his. you wished him a quick thanks before disappearing into the back of the place.

now that was embarrassing.

your eyes scanned over the hall to find your friend before hearing her shout your name from across. damn, why does she have to be so loud? stares were directed towards you as you walked up the stairs to your designated seat. all the chatter going on in the lecture hall became quiet as soon as your professor placed her things on the desk, which means class has started. 

after hearing a two-hour lecture and writing some notes - where suddenly song lyrics and scribbles appear - the words you’ve been waiting to hear finally echoed through the speakers. 

“class is dismissed, thank you everyone for listening,” mrs. hui’s voice later being flushed out by the buzzing voices of the students walking out the hall, determined to finish their own activities. you stuffed your ipad and papers into your light yellow jansport backpack before going out to meet vic who’s waiting for you outside. 

“i’m exhausted, what did she even teach just now?” vic sighed to her heart’s content. you can’t blame her, today’s topic was quite complicated. circuits analysis or something? you can’t really wrap your head around it, your brain being stuffed with all the information. vic kept on ranting  about the problems she faced from the moment she woke up, making you giggle at some comments she made. 

“wait for me, i’m almost done,” he folded his apron neatly before shoving it into the drawer and grabbing his bag from the counter to join jaemin, who’s waiting at the front door with the keycard. hyuck accepted jaemin’s request to help him with some shopping for his sister’s birthday party next week. obviously, the rest of the staff were also invited. 

jaemin divided the shopping list into two, allowing hyuck to find the rest of the things with ease.

“now where are the streamers…” he muttered out loud enough for himself to hear, crouching down to browse through the party decorations on the shelf. or he thought so, as you could hear him sighing clearly in dire need of the certain decoration, that you decided to help him out. 

“um, hyuck? i think the party streamers are in the aisle beside this one? you look a bit troubled there,” you chuckled lightly. the heat flushed to his cheeks, feeling dumbfounded. 

“really? uh, thank you for the help,” he gave you a small grin that could hardly be seen if you didn’t spot the corner of his lips. and with that, he’s long gone with his shopping basket.

you are fond of the atmosphere you’re in right now. the decorations left you in awe - white and pink silk hanging from the wall with silver letter balloons spelling out happy birthday stitched onto them. you can see jaemin’s sister, eun-ji, being carried out of her room with a small flowy white dress and wearing a golden bow on her head, her brunette hair being tied into ponytails. the na family really adore their youngest girl.

meanwhile, there are only a couple of adults your age attending the party -  jaemin’s co-workers, some of his other friends which you aren’t familiar with and hyuck. he looked rather chill, with an oversized beige sweater and white jeans to suit the party’s theme. you’re not quite bad as well, your hair combed nicely and kept neat with a headband, a white sundress with strawberry patterns on it fit nicely on your figure, complemented with a heart-locket necklace placed on your collarbones. before reaching jaemin’s house, you made sure to drop by a local store to get some gifts for eun-ji. she’s a very well-mannered kid which made you adore her very much.

“y/n? very glad to see you here,” hyuck said as he approached you, offering you a plate of cake which he cut.

“i could say the same to you too, mr. lee,” you let out a soft laugh. he made sure to keep a mental note over how pretty you looked today.

“y/n, hyuck! glad you two broke the ice, did you know how hurt i was seeing you two act like strangers whenever y/n came by the cafe?” jaemin enveloping you into a small hug before fake pouting. you can only laugh at the fake debate the two guys in front of you were having. after conversing with hyuck and jaemin for quite some time, you realised that he’s a cool person to talk to, where all this time, you thought he hated you for some reason. before leaving, you made sure to thank mrs. na for hosting the party and off you went home. 

following the previous encounters, hyuck felt much more comfortable around you - even hanging out with you during his shift where you would do your assignments at the cafe he’s working at. every now and then, he would also invite you to hang out with him and jaemin. however, what he didn’t realise was how he slowly pent up feelings - romantically. 

ding dong!

he pressed on the doorbell button with a box of doughnuts in his left hand. the three of you were supposed to be having a movie night, but jaemin got caught up with his groupwork which leaves the two of you alone. 

“hey hyuck! come in,” you gestured, arranging the cushions on your sofa to make it look more organized. the interior of your rented apartment is calming, the light grey walls suiting the navy blue sofa and furniture with darker undertones. the walls are also not left empty, with modern art portraits hanging from it. 

“i brought donuts, your favourite, right?” he opened the box, placing it on the coffee table while you set up the television. you wished him a quick thank you before grabbing two canned drinks from the refrigerator, handing one to him and pressing play on the remote control. you two weren’t quiet throughout the whole movie, with snarky comments on how hot the actors were or how stupid they were being were made. 

he didn’t know you were sleepy though as all of a sudden, he could feel the weight of your head on top of his shoulder. it was a rather awkward situation as he didn’t move at all so you could sleep comfortably. before long, he joined you and dozed off to wonderland. the next morning, you were more than embarrassed to find yourself cuddling up to him, with the next movie still playing on the screen.

seeing your figure outside the front door made hyuck more excited to greet you today. after making a quick order for a green tea latte, you fished out your purse from your handbag, feeling frantic if you’ve lost it outside. luckily, you were the only customer in line as the rest of them were already seated and carrying out their own businesses.

“sorry, but i think this might be yours,” you turned around to find a tall-looking guy handing out your black purse. a wave of relief washed over your soul, thanking the latter profusely.

“mind if i buy you a drink? i hate feeling like i owe someone,” you offered, which he gladly accepted. 

“i’d like a double espresso, please,” he kept his hands into his pockets. 

“and your name, sir?” hyuck looked mildly bothered.

“yukhei,” he ran his slightly blonde hair through the slender fingers. hyuck hated how cocky he looked, feeling more annoyed than ever over the scene that was played in front of him just now. he hated how yukhei looked at you. 

why should he get jealous? he’s just a mere friend to you, that’s all. you have to stop overreacting, hyuck. 

those words kept running through his mind all day.

“dude, are you okay? you looked-” jaemin opened the staff room, interrupting him from the self-talk he was having, “-distracted,” finishing up his sentence. 

“nope, i’m just fine,” he said, bringing the honey smile back onto his face. jaemin nodded before disappearing back to the front to serve the customers. 

stop being so jealous, hyuck. you’re just a friend. not more, not less. 

“jaemin, how do you know if you like someone?” that question is kind of shocking to him, especially if it’s coming from hyuck. of course, he’s had a crush before but it was during middle school. just a silly, little crush. growing up, he’s never had one - not even in high school.

“you’ve asked the right person,” jaemin managed to do his obnoxious voice, even while driving the car. he’s right, he is the matchmaker of the friend group, just how many relationships worked out because of him? eyes still focused on the road - he’s a responsible driver of course, he began to explain the feeling to hyuck, making his points loud and clear.

“first of all, you start feeling a little too happy whenever you’re around them. and no, this is not the oh-we’re-best-friends-forever type of happy, it’s the i’ll-make-you-the-happiest-person-on-earth one. not to forget, you will also experience some kind of turbulence in your heart, expect them to be jumping around a bit. or a lot, whichever suits you the best.

you also tend to feel nervous around that person. like, stuttering your words in obvious or non-obvious ways, feeling faster heartbeats than usual, you name it. oh! if you’ve ever felt jealous whenever they are around someone else, i mean, in affectionate ways, you might have one. however, my tip is for you not to act out of your mind. you don’t want to ruin whatever relationship you have currently, do you?” even when driving, he still managed to deliver his points with full precision and accuracy. 

nodding his head, hyuck took some mental notes to be thought through when he gets home. 

hyuck stared at you, whose figure is snoring soundly on his lap. he assumed you must be feeling exhausted, mid-terms just ended after all. while threading his fingers through your hair, he remembered what jaemin said to him weeks earlier.

1. being happy around them

like jaemin said, it is normal to be happy around your friends. but being with you, it kind of gave more joy for him. not to mention that he started to catch himself smiling over your texts and being reminded of you over small things - your favorite donut topping, the name of that one stray puppy you gave. 

2. feeling nervous around them

his heart would beat a lot faster whenever you get closer towards him, whether accidentally or to mess with him. 

3. getting jealous over someone else

he shouldn’t be jealous of how yukhei looked at you. but he seriously can’t help it. and the way he’s always there during your hangouts. he doesn’t care if he seems petty, yukhei just isn’t in his favour.

his deep thoughts came to a halt when you called out his name, eyes still half-closed, attempting to open them a bit more. 

“did i interrupt you or something? gosh, i’m so sorry,” you quickly stood up but he pulls your body back onto his lap, asking for you to stay.

“what are we?” that question caught you off-guard. the same one that has been at debate in the back of your mind these days. 

i don’t know hyuck, it’s complicated. 

“what do you think we are, hyuck?” you shot the question back at him, your gaze piercing through his soul.

“i don’t know. it’s just-” 

“are you sure?” a deep sigh left your lips. have you been interpreting his body languages wrong? did he only see you as a normal friend, nothing more? 

“sorry, i’m not feeling well. see you later hyuck, bye,” you tried your best to shoot the sweet smile of yours but only a faint one seemed to appear. once you stepped out of the room, he buried his face into his hands. 

god, what have i done?

“don’t feel too down, y/n. maybe there’s something more that he couldn’t bring himself to say?” vic suggested, handing you some tissue.

“i don’t know, i seriously have no idea. why can’t he just say it?” you continued to sob into her arms, she pitied you, especially in your condition right now. but she can’t do anything to help you, other than consoling and listening. 

jaemin knew something was wrong, from your rare visits to the cafe to hyuck not being himself lately. something was definitely wrong and it’s between the both of you. sure, hyuck might be saying that he’s fine again and again, but his expressions can’t lie. the sweet smile of his is long gone and his jokes are no longer heard. whatever it is, jaemin is determined to solve it. he just wants his best friends back. 

looks of dismay can be read all over hyuck’s face when the person facing him is no other than the guy himself, yukhei. still, he tried to control his composure, not making his inner feelings any more obvious.

“so what brings you here?” he took a sip of the mineral water, still making his throat rough from the tension hanging in the air. 

“look, i’m not here for any fights. i know you like y/n, everybody can see it. and honestly, you were oblivious to your own feelings,” he rubbed his hands together. the latter’s puzzled face made him continue his words.

“i’m not trying to make her like me, or whatever you’ve been assuming. sorry if i gave the wrong message but you are the one who should make a move. i can see from the way she looks at you, the feelings are mutual,” he straightened up the denim jacket outside the white shirt wrapping his figure. 

letting out a heavy sigh, hyuck’s face begins to soften up. “no, i should be the one who’s sorry. i’ve been such a prick to everyone around me lately, especially you,” he took of the cap from his head, messing up his hair. 

“no problem, bro. it’s understandable, i guess. now good luck with her, please treat her well,” the two guys exchanged a fist bump for the problem solved. jaemin leaned his back against the wall, smiling and feeling satisfied.

you called out jaemin’s name but to no avail. he invited you to his apartment but seeing that the lights are out, it’s clear enough that he hasn’t finished whatever he was doing yet. just as you were about to leave, you saw hyuck at the other side of it, both your faces mirroring the same look of confusion.

“so, uh, how have you been doing these days? it’s been a while since we talked,” he chose to break the silence. now, you two were sitting facing each other by the balcony. inhaling the breeze, you paused for a moment before responding to his question.

“i’ve been feeling, not as usual. definitely not happy but not that sad,” you pushed some of the loose hair strands hanging on your forehead behind your ears before asking about his.

“you know what, i’m just going to be direct with you. i, lee donghyuck have been holding feelings for you since i don’t know when. yeah sure, i wasn’t really sure at first about what i was going through. i guess i was just scared of how you would react,” he scratched his ears which are not feeling itchy at all, but rather an attempt to distract himself from the overwhelming emotions deep inside him. 

not wanting to waste time any longer, you placed your right hand onto his cheek, standing on the heels of your feet to bring your two lips together. the kiss was short before he pulls you back in for another, this time a more passionate one. he could feel you smile against his lips before enveloping your body into his arms.

“i’ve missed you, you know?” he whispered, his voice tender, directing right into your ears before you replied with how you missed him more. the both of you continued to whisper sweet nothings while embracing each other’s presence. 

jaemin looked at the both of you from a distance, his heart swelling with pride. 

— another pair of lovers matched, cupid jaemin signing out.

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either. 

warnings: lots of emotions, feelings, slightly cynical and bitter reader- she’s honestly just being a realist, we are chugging forward, did not check for typos, format could be fucked up bc i’m posting from my phone quite literally minutes before i clock in- PATHETIC LMAO

word count: 2.7k

this is a short chapter by my standards, but it felt long to me because of the things in it??? this is part five! all other parts can be found on my masterlist, it’s my pinned post!

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Wanda asked while she tied your corset, not even needing to ask whether it was too tight or loose. You looked up in your vanity and immediately tried to wipe your smile away, but it was too late. She knew you better than anyone, and she had yet to see a thoughtful smile on your face, ever. Pietro, who had caught you going back inside the previous night, caught on to the fact that you looked more carefree, and that you just seemed to look like you were carrying around less. 

“Nothing.” 

“Hmm,” Wanda hummed, an entertained look on her face. Something told you that she already had an idea of what was going on, even though there was no way she could have. Besides, you hardly even knew what was going on. “I’ll ask again later.” She looked you in the eyes through the mirror, a slightly mischievous smile on her face. “Maybe then you’ll tell the truth,” she said, flicking you on the side of the head, and then letting it rest.

§§

Natasha was out in the village doing whatever it was the knights did one night, and she was planning on spending the night at a bed and breakfast before coming back in the morning. As disheartened as you were about not being able to see her for your stargazing, you were partly glad for it. You missed being with the twins. 

You had dinner with them alone, sitting and laughing about old memories and scheduling times to make new ones together. You loved the way you could be with them. Your laughter was allowed to go over the volume of a giggle without them looking at you like you had grown seven heads, your silverware were allowed to take a tumble onto your plate with a clatter without a second glance, and you were allowed to use whatever language you pleased. You missed the comfort that you felt with them, the comfort that your brain and the part of you that would always be the farm girl felt with them. 

“And Pietro chased him all the way off, you should have seen how terrified he was,” Wanda recapped, and you couldn't help but grin at Pietro, who was sipping wine with his charming grin. “That boy will never lift another skirt, I can assure you of that.” 

“I’m glad,” you mused, shooting Pietro a look that made him laugh. 

“Enough about me,” he said after swallowing a sip of his wine that was much more like a gulp. “We’re not going to talk about how you’ve been walking on the clouds for weeks now?” 

You nearly dropped your fork again. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve both realized,” Pietro said, motioning with his buttered knife towards his sister, who had a soft smile on her face as she observed your reaction. “That you have been significantly happier. Even with the circumstances-”

“Pietro,” Wanda hissed, but you just snorted and shook your head. 

“It’s like you found your own little pocket of happiness. We were worried about you, but, you’re doing alright.” Ever the blatant one out of the three of you, he leaned forward with his trademark smirk, eyes full of curiosity. “What do you know that we don't?” 

You hesitated for a second, mouth opening and closing twice as you grappled for anything to say, even a lie. And then, you settled on just shrugging your shoulders with a grin, shaking your head. “Honestly, Pietro, I know nothing. I don’t know anything.”

§§

Your heart was beating faster than normal as you looked at the woman next to you, your hand subconsciously itching closer to hers as you sat on the ground, ass on the blanket that you had brought out.  “I would like to… show you something.” 

It was probably the twentieth time that you and Natasha had met with each other, and still, you were entranced by her and everything that she did.  And you were entranced while you stared at her and waited for her answer, just a little nervous as to what she would say. 

As if she would ever say no to something you said. 

“Show me anything you’d like me to see,” Natasha urged on, and you fought back a smile. You stood up, and she did the same, and then you were picking up the blanket and walking side by side with her. It was quiet the entire way there as you walked in step with her, hand brushing against her every few steps and sending tingles down your arm every time it happened. 

The feeling that you got when she touched you made you feel both alive and scared to death. You weren’t stupid. You knew what you were steadily collecting more than friendly feelings for her, and that she may have been on the same page you were on. The game you were playing was a dangerous one, the risk threatening to swallow up the reward more and more by the day. 

You had known that being with her by yourself was bad judgement, ever since the first time you did it. Hell, the look you gave her the first time you met her was far from appropriate. Every single conversation that you had with her was a risk, and both of you knew it. And now that your soon-to-be husband was approaching, it was even more scandalous. No one knew and you hoped no one would ever find out, but hiding forever wasn’t a choice. But what would you be hiding if there were no true feelings? 

You hated yourself for falling for her and her pretty words. 

“I used to come here to escape,” you started, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, voice low as you passed the tree line to get into the thick of the woods. You narrowly missed stepping in a particularly muddy spot on the ground. “This was my spot, before I got the garden of course.”

“The woods?” 

“No, Nat,” you said, slightly amused as you stepped over a fallen branch. You smiled a bit when the sound of running water hit your ears.  “The stream.” 

You knew the exact second that she saw it, because her eyes widened and her breath hitched.  “That’s not a stream, that’s a river.”

“It’s the forgotten part of the main river,” you explained. “It’s much skinnier and more shallow, and it doesn't have nearly as much fish coming through, so people forget about it.” You looked towards her and saw how intrigued she was by it, so you judged her armor free body with a slight smirk. “What? Never seen running water?”

“I lived in the capital, all they had was the ocean. And even then I was never allowed on the harbor if I wasn’t selling clams, and I didn’t sell clams much.”

You felt silence start to grow between the two of you, so you said the first thing that you thought of. “You don’t look like a clam seller.” 

He looked away from the river and to you, a slight grin on her face even as she talked again. “And you don’t look like a petal kisser, blossom, but look where we are today.”

Your heart raced in your chest. “Blossom? Is that what you’re calling me now?” 

“It’s only payback for calling me ‘cherry’,” she said, and you stifled a laugh at the retired name, glancing up at the red hair that you had gotten inspiration from.  

“You didn’t actually mind it,” you said, looking off into the distance, only looking back at her when a warm hand slotted over yours. You blinked and looked down at your hands, which she had intertwined, and then back up at her again, only to see that she was staring straight ahead in the dark at the way the moonlight hit the water. 

“How could I?” She asked softly, a subtle breeze picking up.”You were the one saying it.” She looked at you, and in the dim lighting, you could have sworn that her eyes were saying, you can call me anything in the book, and I will own it proudly. And then, the look changed to something else, something less devoting, and something more passionate. It took you a few seconds to understand what the look meant, and before you could fully register it, she was leaning forward. 

A few seconds came and went where you could feel your heartbeat all over, and you tried to look somewhere other than in her eyes. You couldn't. “Don’t look at me like that.” When all Natasha did was tilt her head to the side and give you an even more intense version of the look, you let out a small sigh. “Please.”

“Why not?” 

She knew why. She knew why probably better than you did after living in the capital. She saw what happened firsthand to people who committed crimes, and those who committed second degree adultery. If you two did what you were wanting to do with your entire heart, you would fall right into that category. “I know where this is going,” you said softly, “and this won’t end well.” 

“Why not?” She asked again, and you turned your head to the side, shaking it slightly and closing your eyes. 

“Because, I’m about to get married,” you hissed, and though you didn’t mean to sound so angry, you did. Natasha was hardly affected. 

She lifted her arms and let them fall against her clothing with a soft slap that still echoed in the night. “You’re not married right now.” 

“But I will be, Natasha,” you said, gripping her hands and squeezing  them softly, begging for her to understand you. “What’s going to happen when I get married to a man who already has a streak for murdering his wives, and he finds out that I have feelings for you? He’ll kill me. He’ll kill you. And if he doesn’t, we’ll both be hung for adultery, after being put into torture camps for being… together as women.” 

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Y/N, you know that.” The fervency in her tone nearly shocked you as she took a bold step forward, nearly surrounding you in her scent and energy. “I would never let anything happen to you.” 

“You’re too important for me to condemn to death and dishonor just because I have feelings for you. It was selfish of me to meet with you in the first place, but I can’t let myself do this. It’s a bad idea,” You said, voice hushed even though no one would have followed you. You were trembling, hand shaking more than anything else as you tried to understand how fast everything was moving; forward and backwards, sewing together and ripping apart all the same. If you were any more attentive to her expression, you would have seen the grin that lit up her face as your confession. “We were just about to cross a line. We’ve crossed quite a few dotted ones, but this one? It is bold and blaring.” 

“Blossom,” Natasha started, and you just shook your head and kept going. 

“And-and what we were just about to do? That crosses the line. We cannot.” 

“Do you really think my feelings for you are going to change depending on whether or not we kiss?” She asked, her voice slightly deeper than usual, almost sounding insulted. “You’re telling me to close my heart off from you, not to not kiss you. And you know that.”  

“What if I am?” You asked, eyes starting to burn with tears. “I’m doing it for the right reasons, Nat. I’m trying to save us from a world of hurt when reality finally sinks in.”

“That isn’t today.” She took another step forward and this time, you couldn't find the strength in you to step back. “And it isn’t tomorrow, and not even within the fortnight. You and I have something, and I know that you know it’s different. It’s special. We would be so stupid to ignore it, so stupid.” 

“I know, I know,” you said, voice tapering off into a whine as you slowly felt your resolve come apart, even though you thought it was stronger. “I’m sorry.”

 “You don’t have to apologize,” Natasha said after a few minutes of pure silence, and you found yourself exhaling. “I just wish things were different.” 

  “I know,” she said, and you turned to look up at the sky, tears threatening to come down on your cheeks. The stars seemed to twinkle and wink at you, talking amongst themselves about a future you had no idea about just yet. 

“Guess they’re never gonna line up,” you murmured to yourself, and then you heard Natasha grumble something from your side, and then she was coming closer, a barreling energy force full of passion and intent, and you knew exactly what she was coming for. For less than a split second, you thought about it. And then you turned your head and met her halfway. 

You would have been surprised by the passion in it if you weren’t just as desperate for the contact. You twisted in her arms, already wrapped around you as she drew you in close, closer than you had ever been with her, and the tears that were welling up before were now escaping for a different reason. Your lips were pressing into hers, moving fluidly and with an air of fervor that she matched equally. You felt wanted, and needed, and you felt loved. You felt the tenderness of the moment with every brush of her fingers on the back of your neck and with every rub of your back over the thin material of your night dress. 

Your legs were shaking, and she noticed before you did that you were getting weak in the knees. She held you up and pulled back slightly, just enough for you to feel her lips brush against yours while she asked if you were okay, like she wasn’t willing to take herself from you just yet. And honestly, you weren’t ready for her to leave you, either. You nodded, and she leaned in again, much slower, and then you had time to think. 

Her eyes weren’t the same shade they were when the sun hit them, they were almost an eerie pale blue, but they were still just as gorgeous to you, especially now that they were slanted with desire. Her hair wasn’t perfect like she somehow always managed or it to be, and you realized that it was because you had gotten a hand to run through it despite the way that she had previously held you like a lifeline. Her lashes were long, and you swore that she was close enough that you could count them. Her cheekbones were accentuated in the lighting, making her look like something straight out of a fairy tale, like a floating fae creature that led people to safety. In that moment, you could have sworn that she was the answer to every prayer you had ever whispered, to every question you had ever asked your etiquette teachers. In that moment, and in every moment to come, she was your ending and beginning, your creation and destruction, your sunrise and sunset. She was Natasha Romanoff, and in that moment, no wedding or murderous man even held a candle to the way you felt about her.

  What a beautiful person. 

“Now you’re looking at me strangely,” Natasha said, her voice quieter than you had ever heard it as the both of you treated over the moment carefully, trying not to break it and leave it in shambles. “What are you thinking about?” 

“How I’m going to have to pretend like this never happened in a few weeks,” you said softly, and part of you hated yourself for bringing up the bad part of the future so soon after you both had just lost all ties to reality. 

“You don’t have to,” she said, stroking your hair. “We can just keep doing what we’re doing, sneaking off in the night and coming back in the morning before anyone realizes. Nothing really has to change, I just want you to know that I… that we can be whatever you want us to be.” 

“As long as we’re in the confines of the garden walls.” 

“And now the woods,” Natasha said, and you couldn’t help but laugh in her arms. 

“And now the woods."

****

this is short, but i couldn’t see anything being tacked on to this. we’re at an important part, and from here it’s gonna be fun!! thank y’all for reading; if you liked it please drop a like and a reblog bc it makes my day!! comments also make me ascend y’all

tags!! : tags! : @teenwonder @saamwilscn @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife​ @shycucumbersandwich @dailyavengering @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion @chickenhavewisdom

so sorry if i forgot anyone!!!!!

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 37

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: New Year’s Eve, pt 2

A/N: A new chapter! We'll finally find out what happened after that annoying cliffhanger in the previous one. Anyway, I would like to note that this chapter deals with some mental health related issues and there is also a mention of a shooting (note: mention) so if you'd rather avoid that kind of stuff, then it may be better to skip this chapter.

That said, I hope you'll still enjoy this chapter! And don't forget that I'm always really happy to hear from you guys!

Words: 3500+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: panic attack, mentions of shooting 

previous chapter / AO3

...

“Calypso, I think you should come. Something’s not right with Leo.”

It took Calypso a moment to register what Nico had said. She just kept staring at him, a frown creeping on her face as she was trying to figure out if she had heard him correctly.

“Something’s… not right with Leo? Wha-what do you mean?” She finally managed to ask.

“We were just talking… I don’t know, not about anything special… and suddenly some fireworks went off nearby. Like, too close for it to be legal. He got really restless - even more than usual - and he wanted to go and look for you but given his state I told him it was probably better if he sat down while I would find you.”

“When you say restless, what exactly do you mean?” Calypso asked.

“He was shaking and his breathing was labored and he got this panicked look on his face… as if he was seeing something I couldn’t see. And when I tried to talk to him, he didn’t respond. He started tapping with his fingers, like he was trying to message me something that way. I don’t know. But I think he’s having a panic attack.”

Calypso’s heart sank. She wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with panic attacks either so she knew how horrifying it could feel. Based on her own experiences, when you were having one, it was really, really hard to convince your brain that it was going to be OK. It just wouldn’t listen. And that could go on for a long while. The worst part was that it could get triggered totally unexpectedly, like now in the middle of the party.

“Oh gods… where is he now? I don’t think he should be alone.” In that moment Calypso didn’t care what the others thought about her worrying; her instinct to be with him was much stronger.

“He’s still in the kitchenette…” Nico responded and Calypso didn’t waste any time, marching out of the balcony as fast as she could.

“So, you think the fireworks triggered the panic attack?” she asked Nico over her shoulder while she was walking.

It took him some effort to keep up with her. “Probably. Before it happened, he was just explaining to me that his family always needed to put Festus into the most light and sound proof room of his home during New Year and 4th of July because he really hated the fireworks. Apparently Festus’ fear is one of the reasons why he himself doesn’t like them.”

“That would certainly make sense,” Calypso agreed. She didn’t have time to ask more when they already reached Leo’s resting spot. Even though she had seen him angry and scared before, this felt different compared to those times. He had wrapped his arms around his shaky legs and when he heard the others approaching, he looked up, his eyes bewildered. Calypso even noticed that there was also wetness on his cheeks and she needed to brace herself so that she didn’t start tearing up as well. She sat down next to him and started speaking in as soothing a voice as she was capable of in that situation.

“Leo… It’s gonna be OK. I’m right here.” She started stroking his back with light, gentle motions.

“Cal?” He muttered with a broken voice. “Thank goodness… I was afraid that…”

“Afraid of what?” Calypso frowned, still trying to sound as calm as possible. “That I was going to go somewhere?”

“Not… here…” he murmured, referring to the fact that they had several pairs of ears listening to them.

“Oh. Right,” she replied understandingly. “Hey… I’m going to ask Frank if he’d allow you to rest in his bedroom for a moment. You know… just until this passes.”

“Fine,” Leo nodded slightly. Luckily Calypso didn’t have to go searching because Frank entered the room as if on cue.

“Frank, I think Leo needs some quiet space for a moment,” Calypso told him when he was observing the situation. “Can we borrow your bedroom?”

“Sure, of course,” Frank agreed instantly.

“Thanks a lot. Don’t worry, you’ll get your room back once he recovers,” Calypso addressed Frank before turning back to Leo. “OK, let’s go then.”

She took his hand and pulled him up, directing him towards the bedroom. When she turned to give the hosts a reassuring nod, she noticed they were watching her and Leo worriedly.

“Uh, do you need any company there?” Hazel asked.

“What do you say, Leo?” Calypso didn’t want to make any decisions for him.

“Just Cal is fine,” he muttered.

“Thanks, though,” Calypso addressed Hazel. “I will let you know if I need any help. I, um, have some experience with this kind of stuff so I think I can handle it.”

“Alright. We’ll make sure no one interrupts him,” Hazel referred to the other guests who were still partying on the other side of the wall. Calypso didn’t understand how anyone could still feel festive but then again, they didn’t know her boyfriend like she did.

Closing the door behind her, Calypso helped Leo on Frank’s bed and turned on a light on the bedside table. Then she sat down next to him and swept his hair from his eyes, pressing a soft kiss on his forehead. When she pulled away, she sighed:

“I’ve also had panic attacks in the past. I’m no expert by any means, but for me, it usually helps a bit if I lie down and just try to focus on my breathing. Maybe you could try that.”

“Alright,” Leo complied. He laid down on the bed, using her legs as a pillow for his head, and rested his hands over his chest. Calypso ran her fingers through his hair and kept talking to him soothingly.

“So what I do is that I breathe in slowly – I try to count to four when I do that – then I hold it for a moment, and then breathe out just as slowly. And repeat.”

Leo blinked to let her know he understood and followed her advice. Calypso knew that she should try to reduce the distractions in that situation so she didn’t say anything for a while; she just kept combing his hair with her fingers and humming the first song that came to her mind; New Year’s Day.

“Do you feel any better?” she asked once Leo’s hyperventilating seemed to have calmed down somewhat. She herself felt lighter as well seeing that he was starting to recover.

“A bit,” Leo answered hoarsely.

“It’s OK. Sometimes it takes a moment to pass but you’ll get there,” she said encouragingly. “Just keep your eyes closed and try to focus on something that keeps you grounded to this moment. Like something you feel or hear or smell or anything…”

“I like it when you play with my hair. It feels nice,” Leo stated bluntly.

“OK. I’ll keep doing that, then.”

It was quiet for a while again, aside from the sounds outside the room. Calypso was thankful that the firework sounds weren’t that loud at that moment because it could have set back Leo’s recovery process.

“Talk to me,” he said suddenly. “About anything.”

“Alright.” Calypso stopped to decide a topic for a moment. “This may sound weird, but when I’m having one of my bad moments, I try to picture my happy place. I think that was something my mum advised me to do already when I was a kid.”

“What is your happy place like then?” Leo asked quietly.

A tiny smile raised on Calypso’s lips when she started imagining it.

“It’s some place warm. Somewhere where I can see the sun shining and birds singing and smell the salty sea air and maybe some eucalyptus trees… Earlier… when I tried picturing it… I was usually alone there. Like, I wasn’t able to picture anyone else with me there for some reason.” She was glad that Leo couldn’t see her blushing because his eyes were closed. Normally, she would have a hard time admitting these kinds of things but seeing Leo’s vulnerable state, she felt her walls disappear. “But now? I think I’d want you to be there too. And why not Festus and maybe some other animals too if you liked that. Georgina doing her things somewhere in the background. And… Well, that was it.” Calypso did have another wish too, but it was way too personal and way too early into their relationship to even mention it, especially in the current situation.

“I think that sounds great,” Leo answered. A tiny, lopsided smile appeared on his face briefly and Calypso took that as a good sign. He wasn’t trembling anymore either.

“Yeah. Well, what about you? What’s your happy place?”

Leo thought about it for a while. “I… I feel most comfortable with my machines. So… I think I’d like to be in a giant garage. Where it smells like machine oil and where I get to listen to Rolling Stones or some other old school rock bands…”

Calypso remembered that Leo had once told her his mom had used to listen to those bands. “I get why you would want that, but wouldn’t it be lonely there?” she asked.

“No,” Leo shook his head. “I wouldn’t be alone there. I would like you to be there too. If you wanted to. And of course my family and Festus too.”

“But what would I do in your garage?” Calypso asked confusedly.

“You would have your own space there,” Leo answered slowly. “You know, for your own things. Sewing machine, fabrics, painting equipment, you name it. Maybe there would be a greenhouse outside the garage for your plants… or a garden… Whatever you prefer.”

“Oh.” Calypso’s mouth formed an ‘o’ when she tried to picture it. Leo had clearly thought about this topic more than she had expected. “That sounds amazing…”

She was already going to change the topic when Leo surprised her again by continuing: “You and I are both good with our hands, making new things, so we could try to create something together, combining our skills. Who knows, maybe we could even start a company or something together. Once we’ve graduated, of course.”

“Hold on.” Calypso furrowed her eyebrows. “You’ve put a lot of thought into this. Would you actually want to do that?”

“Yeah, why not?” Leo asked, finally opening his eyes and looking up at Calypso. In the darkness of the room they looked almost black but the lamp on the bedside table gave them a warm glow.

“You mean it?” Calypso had never had anyone who would have included her into their future plans in her life before and suddenly she felt a bit overwhelmed with emotion when she understood that someone actually cared about her that much.

“Yeah. Of course. You really think I start joking about that when I’m…” he gestured at himself, “in this state?”

“No, of course not,” Calypso tried to reassure him, removing one of her hands from his hair and squeezing his hand instead. “It’s a… really nice dream. Maybe… if everything goes well… it can become true,” Her voice started cracking because she had just realized how much she’d really want the dream to become true, for both of their sake, but she found it scary to think too far into the future. The quietness from her father’s end kept her on her toes even now and there were a lot of other question marks in the air as well.

“Maybe.”

“You’re not hyperventilating anymore,” Calypso decided to change the topic before she got too sentimental. “That’s good.”

“Your advice really helped,” Leo stated. However, his eyes were focused on something Calypso couldn’t see and that made her believe that something was still bothering him.

“Does this happen to you often?” Calypso wanted to know. “I mean, the panic attacks.”

“Not so often lately,” Leo replied. “Believe it or not, for the past year or so I’ve been pretty good.” He lowered his voice into a whisper when he added: “Even better when I got a new roommate. But before I moved in with my family and got some therapy, it was… it was pretty bad.”

“I hate that you had to go through that…” Calypso tightened her grip on his hand slightly.

“It is what it is,” Leo sighed. “At some point… you almost get used to it. But really, I have made some progress. Um, despite the slight setback at Christmas,” he added when he saw Calypso’s skeptical expression.

“But that was understandable. It can be a difficult time for anyone…” Calypso left the words ‘who has lost someone important to them’ unsaid because she doubted that Leo needed more reminders of that particular incident in that moment.

“Yeah… You might be right,” Leo muttered, and silence fell into the room again. Calypso kept absentmindedly running her thumb on the back of his hand while she listened to the chatting and laughing on the other side of the wall.

Eventually, she asked quietly: “Do you know what caused the attack? If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, of course.”

“The fireworks… I remembered some things when I heard the bang…” Leo managed to say.

Calypso raised her eyebrows. “I’m sorry if I ask too much, but what things did you remember?”

“It was… I was living on the streets back in those days…”

Calypso allowed Leo to take his time, not pushing him to continue with his answer.

“It was late at night… I was still in Houston back then. I had this spot in the outskirts of the town where I thought I was safe from the cops and other people I didn’t want to run into so I used to hang out there a lot.”

“Safe from cops? What do you mean by that?”

“I knew that if they caught me, they would bring me right back to my old foster home… Or worse, a new one that was even worse than the previous. I’ve told you, I didn’t have good experiences in my foster homes.”

“Yeah… I remember,” Calypso nodded understandingly.

“Besides, I didn’t exactly have a lot of money so I may have had to shoplift once or twice to keep myself alive while I was on the streets. So, not exactly the cops’ best friend. But anyway, that wasn’t the point of this story. I was gonna tell you what happened on one specific day.”

“OK. No rush,” Calypso said. She noticed that Leo seemed to get stiffer again on her lap but as long as still wanted to keep talking, she didn’t want to interrupt.

“So, I was settling into my hiding spot for the night when I heard it. Gunshots nearby. At first I hoped that someone was just out there hunting in the forest, but it was pitch black outside so the timing didn’t make sense. Then I heard footsteps coming closer to where I was hiding and more gunshots. I decided I needed to leave my hiding spot until the people were gone but I made a lot of noise when I tried to withdraw farther from the road so the shooter probably heard me. I don’t really remember what exactly happened after that but I know there was another bang… and a bullet on the tree right behind me… only a few feet from my head.”

“Oh gods,” Calypso gasped. She wished she could say something comforting as a response but it was easier said than done. Leo saved her from the trouble, though, because he added bitterly:

“I got lucky that the shooter had the police after him because he didn’t have time to stop and make sure he had hit me. But… from what I later heard… not everyone was that lucky.” Leo sniffed loudly and rubbed his eyes, trying to hide the tears.

Calypso clenched her fists. “Sorry… I shouldn’t have made you tell me that. But what… What kind of person does that to other people? Especially to kids? I don’t… I don’t get it…”

“Yeah… me neither.”

“But that incident… The sound of the fireworks made you remember the shooting?” Calypso attempted to connect the dots.

“Yeah... When I heard that sound… I dunno. My mind started racing and I started wondering what if it actually was a shooter and not just some fireworks? I didn’t see where the sound came from because the curtains were closed, after all. And when my mind starts racing, it really starts racing. You weren’t there at that moment so I got afraid that something had happened to you. And the panic attack was ready.”

Calypso understood perfectly. When she was having one of her bad moments, she kept reliving her sister’s accident and worrying it would happen again with someone else. It had taken her a long while to convince herself that it was safe enough to drive a car or to be a passenger in one. Even though she was able to drive again these days, the small nagging noise still hadn’t entirely disappeared from her head and she doubted it ever would.

“Well, I’m here now. I’m alright. You’re alright.” She gave him a small, encouraging smile. “Come here.” She patted the spot next to her to tell him to get up from his lying position so she could hug him. Leo looked at him questioningly for a moment, though.

“But what if someone comes in and sees us?”

“I kinda don’t care right now,” Calypso stated seriously. “Besides… I think we are not that great of actors. They probably know anyway.”

“Alright,” Leo replied and sat up on his spot on the bed. He buried his face against her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist, stroking her back as if to get a verification that she was really there with him.

“Gods, I’m making you regret your decision to be my girlfriend, aren’t I?” he mumbled against her skin.

“No,” Calypso said firmly when she broke the hug. “If anything, I think I love you even more when I hear about these things. You’re a really strong person who has just been through too much, too young.”

“But… you shouldn’t have to be my therapist,” Leo noted.

“I don’t see it that way. I want to help you feel better because you’re important to me. Besides...” Calypso added, thinking that a little humor wouldn’t hurt in that situation, “I’m trusting you’ll do the same for me when I need it.”

“Okay, I’ll be prepared,” Leo promised.

Suddenly the two realized that the people outside the room had gathered together and were doing a countdown.

“Ten, nine, eight…”

“Woah, sounds like it’s midnight already. We must have been here for at least an hour…” Calypso said.

“Seven, six, five…”

“Yeah. Time flies fast when you’re having a panic attack,” Leo managed to ‘joke’.

“Four, three, two, one…”

“I don’t get how you can joke about it already, but OK.”

“Happy new year!” yelled a big group of people in sync outside Frank’s bedroom.

“Happy new year,” the flatmates said at the same time.

“Or at least a better year than the previous one,” Leo added. “Although, I will admit it did have some good mo… woah!”

Calypso surprised Leo by gently pulling him closer to her, her hands coming to rest on each side of his neck when her lips touched his. Even though they had already shared a few kisses since the moment when they had decided to cross the line between a friend and a lover, Calypso still felt the sparks flying down her spine like fireworks when she felt Leo responding to it. His lips felt so soft (had he been using lip balm, she wondered) and his body so warm against hers, and it wasn’t until then that she realized that she had been actually feeling rather cold in her dark sleeveless dress.

“Goodness, Cal, you’re freezing,” Leo noted when they broke apart, rubbing his hands up and down her arms. “This is where a gentleman would offer you a coat but as it happens, I don’t have one.”

Calypso smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be fine. Guess I was at the balcony just a bit too long.”

“Oh. Well, don’t do that again,” Leo said seriously.

“What if I will?” Calypso questioned.

“Then I’ll build a sauna into our flat and make sure you use it no matter what my fear says.”

“Wow. I doubt our landlord would love that. I mean, you building a sauna without permission.”

“Pfft, who cares about his opinion?” Leo asked before turning his attention to the sounds of celebration on the other side of the door. “Hey, should we go back to the others? I think I can handle it now.”

“Alright,” Calypso agreed. “And remember, we can leave any time you feel like it.”

“Okay,” Leo nodded and got up from the bed. They held hands for a moment longer before opening the door and having to act like nothing had happened again. Calypso didn’t mind the acting too much, though, when she saw that Leo was able to smile and joke again. Hopefully that year really would be a better one.

[beckydoesthings]

various fics of hxl that i adore reading! this list is quite lengthy, but feel free to message me if you have any questions!

*will continue to be updated. also, if i mistagged you, i apologize, i do not know how to tumblr*

Love Is a Rebellious Bird

E | 134k | @100percentsassy and gloria_andrews

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

i think this tickled every bone of my musical self and also made me cry (are you seeing a theme here??) one of the first fics i fell in love with and one i keep coming back to.

Collision

E | 226k | @tequiladimples

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

the world building in this one is insanity - so much good mythology mixed in and it made me screech with joy. i think i can firmly say that i did not expect where the plot went, but that made the story so much better.

Flour and Chocolate

M | 145k | @danosphere91

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

OR

Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

the miscommunication in this fic is SO REAL and makes for a good read. the rest of the flour and chocolate series is also fantastic. i thoroughly enjoyed both the ziam and ed/niall arcs that bring the whole story together.

run away home

E | 106k | @hattalove

Louis stands, in the middle of a clearing with his hands in his pockets, and stares. This boy—God, this gorgeous, gorgeous boy. He seems so clumsy, confused at the best of times, but there’s a wisdom about him as he speaks, a maturity that belies his age.

Louis is hopelessly, wildly attracted to him.

or, louis is a successful jockey down on his luck, struggling to get his life back on track after an injury. harry has a horse, a house fit for a prince, and a broken heart.

it takes them a while to figure out that they need each other.

this makes my inner horse girl extraordinarily happy - even if i don’t know anything about horse racing. louis’ story in this is beautiful and makes the whole piece worth a read.

waiting for the tides to meet

E | 60k | @nauticalleeds

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

gorgeous soulmate AU that gives me summer cruising vibes. worth the read for the lettuce scene alone (i kid, i kid)

Do Not Go Gentle

E | 70k | @afirethatcannotdie

“This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.”

For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust.

Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back.

“Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters.

When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.

A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

okay i’ve watched maybe 3 episodes of Gray’s Anatomy, but i feel like this encompasses the vibe of the show: medical stuff with a hefty dose of angst and sexual tension

Falling For Me Won’t Be A Mistake

M | 58k | @all-these-larrythings

Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

one of my favorite mpreg fics so if that’s not your cup of tea, then don’t read it. i love surgeon harry with a vengeance, but honestly Gems and Niall are iconic in this one.

Watching the World Fall

E | 11k | @crazyupsetter why won’t it let me tag :(

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

i have a soft spot the size of Antarctica for Late Late AU fics (we stan James Corden) and for exes to lovers so this checks all the boxes.

autumn leaves

E | 27k | @suspendrs

“Brave?” Harry frowns, caught off guard. “No, not particularly.”

“You seem brave,” Louis decides, pushing off the wall and stepping on the butt of his cigarette. “You are strong, and you are not mean. That’s good,” he assures, touching Harry’s arm gently.

“Thank you, but that’s not true,” Harry smiles ruefully. “I’m really not anything special.”

Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

love love french AUs and while this one isn’t sunshine and rainbows, it’s a beautiful yet heart wrenching piece. warning for period typical homophobia

caught up in your love affair

NR | 8k | @disgruntledkittenface

“And the corgis took to you straightaway,” Harry remarks.

“That’s true,” Louis chuckles.

 “I’ve spent the last 29 years being barked at,” Harry deadpans, jerking his hand toward Louis, “this one walks in, absolutely nothing.”

Louis outright giggles at that, saying, “They were just lying on my feet during tea.”

“Wagging tails,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“It’s because they don’t understand flirting,” Louis tells him, “you can’t charm them the way you do everyone else.”

Royal AU. Prince Harry announces his engagement to Louis Tomlinson in an interview with longtime friend and BBC host Nick Grimshaw. Inspired by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle.

just. 8k of royal fluff. that’s literally it and i adore it so much.

Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You)

M | 54k | @rainbowsandgucci

”Due to unforeseen circumstances, help is needed here at the orchard for the impending apple season. Looking for someone able to start within the next week or two at the most, is willing to do whatever miscellaneous tasks are needed, such as picking & packing apples, running the cash register, and other handywork that may need to be done. Must be good with customers, and able to lift up to 50lbs. Help will be needed until at the least the end of October. Please contact the number found on this page, or come out to the orchard and ask for Harry. All the love xx” --- Louis is staying at his Aunt's farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles. Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry's friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn. He also starts to fall in love with Harry. Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

i never thought i would enjoy an apple orchard fic?? but it’s so good?? farmer harry makes me laugh to think about, but the heartbreak in this fic is so. real.

Mine Would Be You

E | 114k | @crinkle-eyed-boo

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

exes to lovers drama but make it extra sad. the fact that we see so many facets to this story just makes it all the more painful, yet beautiful. this fic also reminds me of how much i love one mister niall horan.

One for Luck

E | 96k | @leavingonatrain

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles' deep, deep voice, he's just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he's officially back on Great Britain's Olympic team. He's also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there's a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life's grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

again, i know nothing about horses, but i like to pretend i do for the sake of this fic. it’s beautiful, it’s smutty what else could you ask for?

Nothing But You On My Mind

E | 83k | @absoloutenonsense

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

i absolutely. definitely. sobbed tears at this fic. it’s just so beautifully painful to read. don’t want to spoil anything, but this is a must.

Adore You

M | 67k | @isthatyoularry

“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer.

Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

i strongly relate to harry in this one! one of my favorite historical AUs and honestly i love the thought of louis in well fitting suits.

leave it to the breeze

E | 81k | @hattalove

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

i. love. the. great british baking show. baking + h&l is amazing. and another reminder as to why niall is the absolute best.

Paint The Sky With Stars

M | 62k | @icanhazzalou grrr let me tag

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom.

Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform.

By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help.

Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

gorgeous historical fic that’s so accurate and painstakingly written. i keep coming back to it!

When It’s Late At Night

M | 25k | @all-these-larrythings

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

Or

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

remember when i said i love Late Late AUs? yeah. i love that louis gives absolutely zero shits in this fic until he gives all the shits.

Chasing Empty Spaces

E | 79k | @domestic-harry

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

gorgeous historical AU that goes through Harry’s struggle with his sexuality wonderfully. this one also made me cry.

Resist Everything Except Temptation

E | 100k | @domestic-harry

The lethargic sound of heels clicking against wood resonated across the sea. Footsteps descended the staircase, every assured step creating a menacing aura as it grew closer. Perspiration gathered along Louis’ palms as the rhythmic sound halted in front of him.

“Captain,” Malik greeted.

Louis watched out of his peripheral as Malik’s boots shuffled back a few steps. Sweat matted the hair along the nape of Louis’ neck as he waited for something to happen. He felt as if a sharp blade was twisting his gut as the silence became tangible. There was a metallic slide of a sword being pulled out of its sheath, the sound startling Louis out of his cocoon of sterile shock. His shoulders jumped as the tip of a blade flattened underneath his jaw. Louis’ distorted reflection stared back at him in the polished metal. Engraved rose petals twisted his appearance as they crawled up the length of the sword. The sword lifted and took Louis’ chin with it.

Standing in front of Louis was Captain Styles.

OR

The one where Louis is the commodore's son who is forced to become a part of Harry's crew when he is captured.

love this pirate AU that’s got one badass gemma styles. also, harry as a super cool pirate in gorgeous clothes makes me super happy!

i’ll make this feel like home

E | 49k

Harry to groans himself and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, well. Here’s the thing. I peed on a stick.”

Louis isn’t able to get more than a shocked “What!” out before Harry’s steamrolling on.

“I peed on a stick and it says it’s positive, but you always prattle on about how it’s best to go to the doctor’s before you get excited, you know to confirm it because sometimes hormones are off or you have like a tumor or some shit and get false positives and what if I’m dying and-”

“You’re pregnant?!” Louis shouts out, stomach dropping as the words leave his mouth.

“Um, yeah… maybe.”

[the one where Louis' hopelessly in love with his best mate... who just happens to be pregnant with another man's baby.]

baby momma harry with hot mess!Louis is a recipe for disaster, but this one has plenty of fluff to make up for it.

Hands Clasped Tight

E | 44k | @afirethatcannotdie

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

love love teacher harry and louis that’s mostly funny fluff with a little angst. just a teeny amount. reminds me of my own experiences with meddling students haha.

*updated 2/16/21*

[mrslittletall]

Title: Memory Lane Fandom: Bloodborne Characters: Micolash Host of the Nightmare, Laurence the first Vicar Word Count: 4.384 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31841335

Summary: Micolash travels home from Byrgenwerth for summer vacation, but during the trip, he thinks about why he doesn't want to go back...

(Author's note: That actually is part of a trade for @popskipandajump @sketchygabz on tumblr. She wanted a story of Micolash's past of my version, which isn't a happy one...

Warnings for child abuse and child neglect. Also, Laurence is tagged there, but he isn't in this fic much, sorry Laurence!)

“Aren't you travelling home for the vacation, Laurence?”, Micolash asked his friend, a bit confused about why he wasn't entering one of the carriages that carted off students to the various places around Byrgenwerth since summer vacation had started this morning.

“My parents are dead, remember.”, Laurence replied, crossing his arms. “And I don't have any other relatives. Master Willem took me in, so I have to stay at the school. Don't you worry though, Gehrman promised to me that we would explore the woods together and play in the lake on hot days. Don't forget to write though, I will make sure to reply once I have your home address.”

Micolash smiled at Laurence as he entered the carriage. “I won't.”, he promised. Micolash waved to Laurence and sat down in the carriage, waiting for the other passengers to enter so that it could take off. Looking out of the window, he could still see Laurence standing there, waving to him. Micolash waved back, sighing as he thought that he would prefer to stay with Laurence and Gehrman for the summer. In truth, Micolash didn't want to go home.

It was something that Micolash hadn't told his now two close friends. Both Laurence and Gehrman always spoke so fondly about their parents, so he never had brought the subject of his own parents up... and he planned to keep it that way, this was something they didn't need to know.

Micolash stopped looking out of the window when Laurence decided to leave to make room for a few more passengers wanting to enter and looked at them instead. A small family entered last, a typical family, a mother, a father and a small child, maybe five or six years old.

The child happily sat themselves on their mother's lap once the family had settled in and Micolash could see how she carefully stroked over the hair of her child. As the carriage started to move, for they were the last passengers, Micolash asked himself if that was how Laurence' mother had treated him. Laurence always spoke with such great fondness of her...

Micolash's own mother on the other hand...

Micolash barely remembered his mother. He was aware that at some point during his life, a mother had been present. He remembered faint things, feelings, impressions. Like soft hands picking him up and gently rocking him, a voice singing to him, being hugged and comforted when he was upset.

What he couldn't remember was a face to the woman who must have been his mother. There was only one thing he remembered very clearly. The last words she ever spoke to him before vanishing forever.

“I can't take this anymore... Mico... I am so sorry... Please forgive me...”

The next thing that Micolash remembered was the shutting of a door and him having waddled over, confused about what just happened. He must have been only three or four back then, far too young to connect the dots, even younger than the child opposite of him, currently sitting on their mother's lap, not having a worry in the world. He did need a long time to understand what had happened. His mother had abandoned him, had left him alone, to never come back, and, Micolash had to admit this to himself, he didn't feel like forgiving her for it.

His gaze went from the child to the man who must be the father of the small family. He looked gentle and his gaze was full of fondness for his wife and child. It reminded Micolash of Gehrman's father, who, while a strict man who made sure that Gehrman didn't slack on his duties, always was there when his son needed him.

Micolash's own father on the other hand? Micolash couldn't remember a single day in his life where his father hadn't been drunk. Being drunk was pretty much his normal state. He always had some kind of bottle with him and would drink out of it, swaying from side to side, reeking of wine. He often ignored Micolash in his drunken state, though the days in which Micolash remained ignored could be considered the good days.

The days in which his father was hyper aware of Micolash's presence... were the worst ones...

On those days, Micolash couldn't even make a single peep without upsetting his father. Even when he just shifted around or went to fetch something and the gods forbid that Micolash dropped something or forgot to avoid the creaky floorboards on his way outside.

His father would be in front of him with such a speed that it frightened Micolash. When Micolash was lucky, he would simply get screamed at. That he shouldn't make such noise, that he should be lucky that he had a roof over his head and that he was allowed to go to school instead of dying outside in some ditch. Micolash was used to this kind of words. Sure, they stung, but it was nothing that he couldn't endure.

It hurt a lot more when his father decided to put his mother into the mix and told him that she didn't ever bother to take him with her and that meant how much she hated him and that he never had been loved by her, only having been bothered by his very existence and that it was him and his constant screaming and being fuzzy when he still had been a baby that drove her out. Micolash always had to suppress his tears when his father started with it... he even almost started to believe that he was at fault for his mother leaving.

However, simply being screamed at, even though it hurt a lot inside of him, was still better as when his father decided that he had enough of him making so much noise and silenced him with his fist.

The first time it had happened, Micolash had barely registered it. He just stared with wide eyes at his father, raising a hand to notice that his nose bled and then starting to sob uncontrollably, not understanding why it had happened or what he did wrong to get such a reaction, which had made... everything worse...

For when Micolash didn't want to calm down, his father dealt with him by shutting him into the closet. It was dark in there, narrow, far too warm and it smelled horrible, mostly of alcohol and vomit, and Micolash was sure he would have been able to see stains of dried up puke on the clothes if it wouldn't have been so dark.. and if he wouldn't have been so terrified of being locked in there.

Locking Micolash into the closet was his father's usual method when Micolash annoyed him, which was far more often than Micolash liked, and Micolash started to dread the closet so much. He was left in there for hours, sometimes his father even left their home without releasing him and Micolash had to sit in there, waiting, panicking, hoping that he would come back, hoping that he would get out before he would starve, trying his best to avoid making a mess when he was left in their for hours, only to be punished when it happened regardless, making the situation into nothing more but a vicious cycle for Micolash.

“Oh dear, are you feeling alright? You are awfully pale.”

Micolash got snapped out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his arm and when he looked to his right, aware of how laboured his breathing had become, he spotted the face of an elderly woman, a kind smile, with her greyish hair being put into a bun on heir head, wearing a checkered dress. He didn't reply right away, because the sight in front of him stirred another memory and for a second he felt like had seen a ghost.

“Are you about to get sick maybe? Do you need for the carriage to stop?”

Micolash slowly shook his head, trying to force his face into a smile, which felt extremely difficult. He hoped he looked at least half convincing, though he knew his face wasn't exactly pretty (Laurence even called him a gremlin sometimes and Micolash couldn't deny it), though he hoped that he didn't look anymore like he was about to throw up.

“No, I am fine.”, he finally answered. “Just thought about... something unpleasant.”

“Well then, but don't hesitate to say something should you feel unwell.”, the old woman said and Micolash was aware that the rest of the passengers stared at him as well, he must have looked a lot more uncomfortable than he thought.

“I will. Sorry for worrying you.”, he said and felt how the old woman let go of his arm, but he still felt his gaze on her. Micolash decided to stop looking at the passengers from which a few still were staring at him and out of the window again.

The elderly woman sitting next to him... at first glance, she looked like the striking image of Micolash's neighbour. Micolash and his father lived in a small shack at the border of Hemwick Chapel Lane and this elderly woman had lived there too. Apparently, she was alone, either she never had married or her husband had died and her children and grandchildren were out of the house. It wasn't something Micolash bothered a lot with.

This woman had been a big reason why Micolash had survived after his mother had left.

“Mooom, I am hungry!”, the small child of the family suddenly complained, breaking Micolash briefly out of his thoughts when he saw their mother soothe them and find something for them to eat, which they eagerly took.

Food was something that wasn't a constant in Micolash's life and the reason why his elderly neighbour had been so important for him plus the fact that he could escape his father when he stayed at her place.

Micolash's father didn't have a steady job. No wonder, the drunkard he was. He worked wherever he would be needed and whoever found enough pity in themselves to employ him. Micolash's father probably thought that his son didn't know about this, but Micolash always listened when he walked through the village, he heard the rumours, the facts, he knew how disliked his father was in the village. He also heard the rumours about himself. That a child with such a father couldn't get right, that it was no wonder that his mother had left and that they feared the day when Micolash would grow up into a copy of his father. It didn't surprise him that the other children avoided him, sometimes even thought about bullying him. Micolash didn't bother, they got bored when he ignored them and his father did far more worse things than their words could do to him and their mean spirited pranks didn't hurt as much as being shut in the closet or being beaten until he bled.

But Micolash loathed it when he was compared to his father. He even loathed himself then. He never would become like his father, he swore to himself, though deep down inside of him, he very much feared that it would still happen...

Because of his many odd jobs, Micolash's father generally didn't bring a lot of coins home, and the coins he brought home, he normally used to buy more alcohol. It was rare that his father brought food home and if, then it often was just some old bread or leftovers, probably from a meal he had bought for himself and then brought back home some scraps when he remembered that Micolash existed and people probably would start to ask questions if they boy wouldn't be seen in the village or at school anymore.

During this time, the elderly neighbour took care of Micolash once she realized that he got thinner and thinner from malnourishment. Even though she didn't have much, she gladly shared the bit she had with him, pretty much saving Micolash from starvation. It had been shortly after his mother had left, when Micolash was still far too small to take care of himself. He couldn't remember too much, but he remembered how much more drunk his father had gotten after his mother left, and Micolash went largely ignored during that time... but in the bad way, in the way that he was basically non-existent for his father...

If not for his elderly neighbour having invited him into her shack and giving him food, Micolash probably would have died there sooner or later, for the bit of food that his father sometimes remembered to bring along, barely did anything to quell his hunger...

Micolash liked being at her house. She gave him food, she didn't get mad at him when he was a bit noisier while playing and he didn't have to fear getting punished when he messed up. He only could stay there though when his father was absent, because his father was very much against him staying at some random stranger's house and always would get him and get into a fight with his neighbour when Micolash wouldn't be back on time.

When Micolash was around six years old, his neighbour decided to teach him to prepare his own food. She started with raw food first, showing Micolash how to prepare a sandwich or a fruit bowl or a salad. However, Micolash was clever enough to figure out how the stove worked, so she switched over to teach him how to cook. They were all rather simple recipes, but it meant that Micolash didn't have to rely so much on his neighbour anymore and could prepare food in his own home... and sometimes it even put him into the favour of his father, when he came home and Micolash had prepared some food he enjoyed. Those were good days, where nothing bad happened to him... should Micolash fail the food however... He shuddered at the memory.

However, for a child of six years it was awfully difficult to chop firewood, so Micolash couldn't prepare cooked food too often. He was forbidden from taking any of the firewood his father might have chopped, probably because it was needed for the winter and his father would just chop enough that they would not freeze. Micolash was pretty sure that his father never had used the stove himself, in fact, he needed to clean the whole thing out when he started to use it. Without proper firewood, he couldn't use it very well though, so Micolash was often collecting branches and dry leaves to at least have something to burn and cook a warm meal once in a while.

While he heard of a fancy thing called a gas stove which they had in cities like Yharnam, Micolash was sure that they never would get it, especially because they never would have enough coins to pay for that gas that they needed for such a stove to function. He still was interested in how such a stove would function and secretly wished that one day he could try out a stove that didn't need to be fuelled with wood.

The coins they had, or more, the coins his father gave him once he realized that Micolash would cook for him, were barely enough to even organize the food. His father still put most of his coins into buying more wine and while the coins would be enough for food for one person, Micolash had to cook for himself too. He would have preferred not having to share the little bit of food he had at all, but he knew he had to give his father the bigger serving or he would get punished, and Micolash didn't want to get locked into the closet again...

That is why the elderly neighbour started to show Micolash how to scavenge for food as well as grow his own food. She had a little garden and showed him how to plow the ground, sow the seeds and raise vegetables on his own. There wasn't that much growing in Hemwick, but Micolash managed to grow a few vegetables, like carrots, cabbage and turnips.

Micolash also got shown how to gather wild herbs and mushrooms. He had to learn a lot, because a lot of these wild plants weren't edible, downright poisonous. Micolash documented them all on the blank pages of his school books, not having enough coins to buy a notebook for his own. His teacher once wanted to scold him for scribbling in his books, but didn't say anything when she saw what Micolash had written down.

He also got taught how to fish and how to set traps to catch small animals. Fishing often wasn't successful, for Micolash didn't have a good fishing rod and always had to craft one himself. At least looking for earthworms to use as bait was kind of entertaining, he kind of liked digging in the mud, even though it left him dirty and when he would make the shack dirty... Micolash often had to clean himself in the river before getting home.

Traps were a bit more effective, but it was hard for Micolash when he had his first catch and then had to realize that meat meant having to kill a small little animal. He pretty much refused to do it the first time and only slowly took to it... up until to a point where it became so natural for him that he didn't even think about it anymore. Everything he caught meant that he didn't have to go to bed without a full belly and also that he could get his father into a somewhat good mood.

During this time, his life managed to get almost pleasant... until his elderly neighbour died when he was eight years old.

From one day to the other, Micolash had lost his safe place. Now he had to spend all his time at home or wandering the village, which wasn't possible when it rained or snowed, and because the elderly neighbour had taught Micolash how to do household chores, and Micolash had started to clean around the shack, his father now had extraordinary high expectations of him.

If the shack wasn't clean enough, he would get mad. If a dish wasn't to his liking, he would get mad. If he didn't have any clean laundry, he would get mad. Micolash actually asked himself why he was allowed to go to school when all his free time was spent with household chores anyway. Because of that, Micolash would often stay up beyond bedtime and learn for school, for he vowed to himself that he would never end up like his father and learn something good. Luckily, learning came easily to him, very easily. He didn't need long to understand how something worked and managed to pass all his tests with flying colours.

One day Micolash figured that his father would always have something to criticize, so he stopped giving a damn. He would end up in the closet or with a black eye one way or another, so he decided to use his extra time for learning for school and food scavenging, for he hoped he could save a bit of coins to one day leave this place, when he grew up.

Unfortunately, his father found out that Micolash mostly scavenged for food and stopped giving him coins, leaving Micolash with his very small savings that were nowhere enough to get him anywhere. Micolash used his little stash to buy something that he never had dared to try before, for how expensive it was. It was a sweet, something called a chocolate bar and he had never tried something so exquisite and tasty. When he sat at the river, enjoying it, tears ran down his face when he thought that other children could enjoy this treat every single day.

Micolash's life pretty much continued like this and he almost came to terms with that he would either be forever stuck in Hemwick until his father died or had to run away with no coins whatsoever, when his teacher one day talked to him. His grades were so good, she wanted to recommend him to a school named Byrgenwerth, a school in which children and young adults with his skills could study. The best thing about it... the school was a bit off the road, in the middle of a forest, so that the students would stay there for the duration of the school year.

Micolash's face only fell when he heard about the sum he would have to pay to enter. That was impossible for him, especially because he barely got any coins anymore. He knew Father would never pay the tuition, for all their coins were used up for the wine he drank everyday.

That was when Micolash's teacher told him about a stipend. He would have to pass a certain test and then someone else would cover the tuition for him. Micolash, more than eager to get away from this place, as well as wanting to learn even more, accepted and managed to pass the test.

On the day he left, he didn't even tell his father about it. He wrote a letter and slipped it under the door when he went to sleep, then he quietly packed the few things he possessed and left for the carriage. Back then, he hadn't thought about ever going back. He hadn't taken into account that he would get sent home for vacation.

And now he was sitting in the carriage. The carriage that was getting him home. Where he had to face his father and explain to him where he went. Where he probably would get locked into the closet for three days if he was lucky. Micolash hadn't even noticed how he had started shuddering. He didn't, no, he couldn't get back to this place. He had worked so hard to get out of it, it wasn't fair that he had to go back, to this man that never loved him, to that shack that never had been a home, to a place where the only person helping him was long dead.

“Hemwick Chapel Lane. Everyone who wants to get off, please exit.” Micolash jerked up when he heard the name of his stop and got up in an instant, walking to the exit as if he was in a trance. He could feel the gazes of all the passengers on him, only now realizing how much he was shaking. If he would get out there... then his father would have control over him again, and Micolash didn't know if he had the strength to leave another time.

“What's the matter? Is this your station or not?”, the carriage driver asked as Micolash still didn't move.

“No, it isn't.”, Micolash finally said and sat back down. “I am sorry, I want to leave at Byrgenwerth Forest station.”

The carriage driver just gave him a deep look, for that was the station where Micolash had entered, but then shrugged. Micolash took a deep breath when he noticed all the other passengers staring at him, even the small child that had been the start of his trip down memory lane.

“Are you feeling alright?”, the mother of the family asked. “Aren't you a student of Byrgenwerth? Is there a place where you can... stay?”

Micolash didn't reply right away. He would even sleep in the woods if he had to, but... he would go back to Byrgenwerth and ask if he could stay there for the vacation. Laurence and Gehrman were also there, he wouldn't count much, and he could offer to cook. He just hoped that Master Willem didn't have a reason to send him away...

“I'll figure something out.”, he instead replied and the parents shared a look before getting their attention demanded by their offspring. Next to him, the old woman that reminded him so much of his elderly neighbour gave him a pat and said.

“There's no reason to stay at a place you feel unhappy in. Walking away was the best thing that ever happened to me... and I hope you find your place to stay as well.”

Micolash gave her a smile and then looked out of the window.

“Never again.”, he decided as the carriage started moving and left Hemwick Chapel Lane behind him. Never again would Micolash return to this place, from now on, he would build his own life. One day, he might have friends and even subordinates that would research with him and should he make enemies.. well, he would make sure to show them that they couldn't mess with him.

On the way back, Micolash relaxed gradually. The sun was already starting to set when the carriage was back at Byrgenwerth Forest, but Micolash didn't mind, crossing the forest to the school before it set completely and setting foot in the common room, where a pretty confused Laurence got up from the couch, abandoning the book he had read and came over to him.

“Micolash? Didn't you want to go home for the vacations?”, he asked.

“Laurence...”, Micolash said. “There's something I have to tell you...”

Micolash then confessed the whole deal about his upbringing to Laurence and once he was done, breathing heavily and tears staining his eyes, Laurence never once having left his side, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder, his friend said: “Let's go speak to Master Willem.”

Micolash was allowed to stay in the school during the vacations from now on, only sometimes having to leave to take a new test for his stipend, which Master Willem organized in Yharnam though, Laurence' hometown, so that Micolash didn't had to get back to Hemwick Chapel Lane anymore.

Micolash never went back to this place, instead, he started his own life, and his own school. And even though he broke ties with his old friends eventually, he never regretted his decision.

For in the Nightmare of Mensis was all the knowledge of the Great Ones and why should he ever want to leave the home he made for himself?

(Author's note: Not gonna lie, this feels a bit clunky to me. I practically rewrote the entire thing also from the first draft and only left like the last few paragraphs. I didn't give any names to the characters outside of Micolash and Laurence, because I didn't want to flesh them out too much.

I hope you enjoyed it and tell me what you thought in the comments.)

[spookyfbi]

Fic - The First Boy Who Taught Me

So originally I thought that Dave was living with his Uncle because his parents were dead. Then I was talking to someone and they suggested that Dave was sent away to live in Dallas with his uncle because he got caught kissing a boy. Then I got obsessed with this idea and a story began to write itself in my head... I’m gonna sign up to AO3 eventually but inthe meantime, here it is.

Also, this is mostly Dave/OMC but I’m tagging it klave because, well, all paths lead to Klave, right?

------

Billy Goldstein was a year older than Dave so they weren’t in any of the same classes, but their parents were good friends and whenever they would visit and talk about whatever boring things grown ups talked about, Dave and Billy would take their bikes and ride down to the park and climb the tallest tree. When they were younger they’d make believe they were pirates or cowboys or astronauts, but now Dave was 15 and Billy 16, so instead they talked about school and their families and God and the future and outer space and really, anything that was on their minds to talk about.

“Do you ever think about… being bad?” Billy asked one day.

Dave furrowed his brow. “You mean like Danny?” Danny was the school bully in Dave’s grade, but he was big and tough enough to pick on some of the kids in Billy’s grade as well. Dave hadn’t had too many run-ins with him, but he didn’t like the way Danny treated the weaker kids - it wasn’t right, they didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Dave often wished he could put Danny in his place, but he was afraid he’d make himself a target. He certainly didn’t want to be anything like Danny, and he wouldn’t have thought that Billy would either.

Billy shook his head. “Nah, that’s not what I mean, Danny’s an asshole. Wouldn’t mind sockin’ him though, you think that’d be bad?”

“Nah, I don’t think so. I think some of the kids would think you were a hero. Just like our Dads in the war, fighting the Nazis.”

“Mmm” Billy said. He still seemed a little unsure so Dave gave his foot a couple of gentle kicks. Billy looked at him and smiled. Then he looked down at their feet. He moved himself closer to Dave without making eye contact. They sat so close now on the tree branch that their legs were almost touching, but not quite. It wasn’t uncomfortable, they’d sat this close or even closer plenty of other times, but Billy looked nervous this time. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated. Dave just waited, enjoying the silence and the closeness and the warm sun and the cool breeze and the sound of children’s laughter below them. He didn’t imagine anything that Billy could say would bother him much. Finally, Billy spoke. “Sometimes I think about kissing a boy.”

Dave looked at Billy. It didn’t feel as shocking or scandalous as perhaps it should have. They were up in their tree where they talked about everything, where they’d told things to each other they hadn’t told anyone else. This just felt like another one of those things.

But Billy was still nervous, and he didn’t register Dave’s openness. “I know you do too,” he added quickly, “don’t deny it.” It was said like an accusation, like a scared animal backed into a corner and lashing out. “I’ve seen it when we look at each other sometimes. You want to just as much as I do. You’re the same as me. If God hates me then he hates you too.”

Dave broke eye contact then with a scoff and looked out at the view. He couldn’t deny it, what Billy was saying. He didn’t want to either. But he didn’t like what Billy was saying about it. He didn’t want to be bad and he certainly didn’t want God to hate him, or Billy.

Dave could still feel Billy’s eyes on him. “Dave, please…” Billy said with a tremble in his voice. “Please tell me I’m not alone. You and me are in this together, right?”

Dave looked back at Billy, and as soon as he did, Billy’s lips were on his. Dave didn’t know what to do. He’d never kissed anyone before. He didn’t know if he should open his mouth, or what he should do with his hands. It felt strange, but nice, so Dave didn’t do anything.

Billy smiled when he pulled away. “I knew it! I knew you were like me. Whatever happens, we’re in this together.”

Dave smiled and looked back down at his feet. He could feel his face flushing. Billy gave his shoulder a reassuring nudge. They were in this together, just like always.

———

That night after dinner Dave snuck out went to Billy’s house. They’d sneaked out after dinner before, to go for evening bike rides, see the stars, sit on the swings late at night when the kids who would normally use them were asleep in their beds, so it didn’t feel much different to Dave when he did it tonight. Dave wasn’t sure what to expect after that kiss in the park. They hadn’t talked about it much. Billy had changed the subject and everything had gone back to the way it always was. Dave began to wonder if he’d imagined the whole thing. He climbed the tree outside Billy’s window and sat on one of the branches, then he tapped his fingers on the glass. Billy gave a half smile when he opened his window and he kissed Dave again. Dave was surprised, but pleasantly so. He leaned into Billy this time and puckered his lips. He felt Billy put his arms around him and pull him even further forward. Dave followed until he couldn’t lean any further forward without falling. Billy broke the kiss. “Well, aren’t you gonna come in?”

Dave hadn’t been planning on it. Usually when he visited Billy late like this Billy wanted to get out of the house. But Dave didn’t mind staying in Billy’s room, especially if he was going to keep kissing him. So Dave climbed through the window, and before he could get his balance Billy’s lips were on his again, so Dave used Billy to steady himself. Billy pulled him closer and it was so, so nice. Then Billy took a step back, still holding Dave close, so Dave followed. They took a few more steps together like this until suddenly they stumbled into Billy’s bed. Dave broke the kiss to look at Billy. His smile told Dave that he’d done this on purpose. Dave was lying on top of Billy, with Billy’s legs wrapped around his hips. Dave wasted no time kissing him again. This time he tried opening his mouth a bit. He brushed his tongue along Billy’s lower lip and then went back to kissing like before. Billy opened his mouth then and it wasn’t long before their tongues were exploring each other’s mouths. It felt so good, really good, and soon Dave felt a stirring between his legs. He was pressed up against Billy and he could feel that Billy was having the same reaction. Dave felt like his body was starting to take over and started to grind himself against Billy without really meaning to. He pulled back slightly to look at Billy, and Billy’s smile was all the encouragement he needed to keep going. It was so good, oh god. Dave had done this before by himself, rubbing against his bed, but this was different - better! Billy’s kisses moved to Dave’s cheek and along his jaw and towards his ear as Dave continued to grind himself against Billy.

“My Dad would be so pissed if he knew what we were doing,” Billy whispered, and that made Dave stop. He climbed off Billy and sat opposite him on his bed, looking at him with a frown. Billy seemed surprised that Dave had stopped so abruptly. Dave had the same feeling he’d had in the park that day when Billy had talked about God hating them. Dave felt good when he was kissing Billy, and he didn’t like that Billy thought they were doing something wrong. He didn’t feel like kissing Billy any more right now. Dave got up and went back to the window to leave. “Dave, wait!” Billy got up and met Dave at the window. There was a slight panic in his voice. “I’m sorry.” he said, and Dave wasn’t sure if he was apologising for what he’d said or what they were doing.

Dave softened his expression. He could see that Billy was scared. Dave didn’t know if what they were doing was bad or if God hated them or what their parents would think. But it wasn’t as though they were hurting anybody, and they both enjoyed what they were doing. And Dave decided he could live with that, the rest was for the rabbis to debate about. He put his hand on Billy’s cheek in a gesture he hoped was reassuring, and gave Billy another kiss, less intense than before. 

Dave felt Billy relax into him, and when the kiss broke, he didn’t pull away, letting his face linger close to Billy’s. “So then we’re still in this together?” Billy whispered.

Dave pulled back just enough to look into Billy’s eyes. “Always,” he said with a warm smile.

———

Billy’s parents were hosting a barbecue for his younger sister’s birthday and all the neighbours were there, including Dave and his family. Mr Goldstein asked Billy to get some more meat from the fridge in the garage, and Dave went with him. When they saw that the garage was empty, Billy shot Dave a sly smile. Dave returned the smile and took Billy’s hand, running his thumb along the back, threading his fingers through Billy’s. He brought Billy’s hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss into the back. Billy’s eyes lit up with desire and he closed the distance between them and kissed Dave passionately, pushing his tongue through Dave’s lips. Dave parted them eagerly and let Billy push him back until they were leaning against the fridge, the meat quickly forgotten.

The boys didn’t realise how long they’d been when Mr Goldstein burst angrily through the garage door. He’d been ready to yell at Billy for taking so long with the meat, but what he saw inspired a very different sort of rage.

Dave felt Billy being pulled away from him. Mr Goldstein shoved Billy to the floor. He was yelling something, first at Billy, then at Dave, then at Billy again. Dave couldn’t make out the words over the blood rushing in his ears. He was frozen in place with fear and so was Billy. Mr Goldstein was standing over Billy, his arms flailing as he yelled, and Billy’s expression wavered between anger and fear. Dave wanted to say something, do something, but the words wouldn’t form in his mouth and his body refused to move. It was just like with Danny, Dave wanted to stand up to the bully but he was too afraid.

Mr Goldstein left with a final look of disgust directed at Dave, and Dave thought he heard something about telling his parents. He was too shocked to think about what that might mean. He shook himself out of it and held out a hand to help Billy up.

“Shit!” Billy said. “Oh shit, he’s gonna kill me. What are we gonna do?”

Dave just shook his head.

“He’s gonna tell your parents, y’know. You’re dead too. We’re both dead.” Billy sank back down to the ground and ran his fingers through his hair. “Shit, this was so stupid!” Dave sat down next to Billy and Billy grabbed his arms. “Dave, what are we gonna do?”

Dave shook his head again. He had no answers for Billy.

———

Dave couldn’t help the way his hands shook when his parents called him into the kitchen. They looked a lot calmer than Mr Goldstein had earlier that day. Mom looked like she’d been crying, she was still holding a handkerchief in her hands. Dad looked stern and disappointed.

“Son…” Dad began, and then he faltered and looked to Mom.

“Dave…” She said. Then she began crying, and brought the handkerchief to her eyes.

Dave swallowed and waited. He held his hands in front of him to try to stop them from trembling.

“Son, you’re going to go live with your Uncle Brian in Dallas for a while. This business with Billy…”

“You just put it out of your mind, okay, Dave?” Mom said. “You’re a good boy. You’re not gonna do anything like this ever again, are you Honey?”

Dave opened his mouth to speak but Dad interrupted him. “That’s right, Sport. You’ll just get a fresh start in Dallas, you focus on your studies and when the time is right you’ll find yourself a lovely young lady to marry, and then you can come back home.”

Dave wanted to ask if he could still come home even if he didn’t find a young lady, but he was afraid of the answer. His parents weren’t yelling and they weren’t shoving him to the ground like Mr Goldstein, but Dave thought he’d prefer it if they were. Sending him away? For how long? Would he ever see his parents again? Would he ever see Billy again?

“You go to your room now and get some sleep.” Mom said. “We’ll talk to the school tomorrow and you can stay home and start packing.”

Dave felt a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t dare speak for fear of crying. He did as he was told and went up to his room. Then he opened his window and climbed out, as he had dozens of times before. He had to see Billy.

———

Dave sat on the branch and tapped on Billy’s window again. When Billy opened it, Dave saw the cut on his lip and the shiner beginning to form on his cheek. Billy didn’t kiss him this time.

“You can’t be here, Dave” Billy said quietly.

“My parents are sending me away to Dallas.” Dave told him.

“You should go.” Billy said, and Dave wasn’t sure if he meant go back home or go to Dallas.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, I heard you. You’re going to Dallas. Maybe that’s for the best.”

“Billy…” Billy wasn’t looking at Dave, so Dave reached his hands out to touch Billy’s face, and he flinched away.

“You’re too much of a temptation for me. If you weren’t around, then I wouldn’t…” Billy swallowed. “I wouldn’t be like this anymore.”

Dave felt the lump forming in his throat again. Everything was changing for the worst and there was nothing he could do. He barely knew his uncle and he didn’t know anyone else in Dallas. His parents wanted to send him away, and now so did Billy. Wasn’t there anyone who wanted him, just one person in the whole wide world who cared about him? It wouldn’t be so bad if he had just one person, just one. “What about us being in this together?” He whispered hoarsely.

“If we’re in this together then where the hell’s your split lip, huh? Where’s your black eye?”

“Then let’s get out of here, together. You and me. Away from your Dad, away from my parents. We’ll take care of each other. We’ll be in it together, just like you said.”

“And do what? What are we gonna do for money? Neither of us have jobs.”

“I don’t know… we’ll figure something out.”

“Grow up, Dave. And go home.” Billy put his hands on the window and began to close it. “Go to Dallas. Or run away by yourself if you want. I can’t see you anymore.” And with that Billy slammed the window in Dave’s face and closed the curtains.

Dave didn’t try to stop the tears when they came. He lingered for a while, resting his head against the window. There was nothing for him at home. There was nothing for him here either. And there was nothing for him in Dallas.

Somehow, eventually, Dave made his way back home. He couldn’t bring himself to think about where he was going, he just let his body carry him. He managed to sleepwalk through many more years like this, not allowing himself to think about the rejection he’d faced from Billy, from his own family. Not allowing himself to think about how desperately he missed a person who didn’t yet exist. A person who might care about him unconditionally, for exactly who he was. A person he could love just as fiercely.

Until one day, there was a flash of blue light…

[memoriashell]

first impressions ( are they pointless if fate has already decided? )

Characters /  Pairing: Fukawa Touko/Naegi Komaru, ( implied ) Syo / Komaru

crossposted on ao3

Notes: day 7 of @tokomaruweek​!! soulmate prompt.

sorry if i manage to absolutely fuck up posting this one i'm half awake rn.

i appreciate how unrealistic and improbably soulmate aus are. anyways i knew i wanted to play with this idea as soon as i saw the prompt. i think that bodyswap au has interesting potential. the bodyswap soulmate au in the specific sense that you’d theoretically get to see the kind of hardships your fated might be going through but that’s not really the angle i took on it here but i mean do any of us want komaru to face abuse and bullying? no. i cannot comit to that. someone else can do that i am going to live here angst free anyways in case it isn't obvious the basis premises around this is that once you come of age, you swap bodies with your soulmate. HONESTLY not sure how a body swap au would work w/ a did person but considering that every alter / identity is considered their own person, i figured that it would simply just swap w/ the host, meaning any alters would be left behind. i do think it'd be an interesting concept to play with, maybe?

tw for trauma / abuse ( /ive parents )

Summary:  most circumstances to figure out the identity of your soulmate are pretty unfortunate, but she thinks this one might take the proverbial cake in some regard.

For most people, this would be the kind of momentous occasion that people would count down to. For Touko, it catches her completely off guard because she hardly registers the fact that her birthday is coming up until the day it happens.

‘It’ being the day she comes of age and is supposed to find out who her soulmate is.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t think about this kind of stuff on occasion. It was kind of a given, with her entire shtick of being a romance author. But quite frankly, she tries to forget it, because really? Soulmates? For someone like her? Not likely.

Who would want to be stuck with someone like her? Best not to get her hopes up too much, and stick to unrequited crushes on people she knows she’s probably not destined for.

The sound of an unfamiliar alarm is what wakes her up— Touko doesn’t really process anything more than trying to turn it off and laying down for a few minutes. And then realizes her body doesn’t quite feel right. Empty. Something’s missing and it’s too quiet and it all feels horribly wrong. And then opening her eyes and realizing she can see perfectly fine without her glasses.

Oh. Oh no. No no no no no.

She hops out of bed and spots a phone ( thank christ ) and confirms her fears. Right. It’s her birthday. Thank god she doesn’t need to know a passcode to figure out that information. Well, nothing she can do about that. Time to sleep off today, so she can go back to living her life normally, soulmate-free.

Or well, that is what she plans to do, until a picture frame catches her attention from the corner of her eye, and— oh. Oh no? Oh no. She absolutely recognizes one of the two people in the picture. She presumes the girl is the one whose body she’s currently inhabits ( nothing particularly special to note there, plain as plain can be ). The boy— she loathes that nonchalant, easygoing expression— the boy she recognizes as her classmate. One Makoto Naegi.

God, it’d be just her luck, huh. Speaking of which—

“Komaru!” Ah, so that’s her name. She hears a shout from downstairs, followed by footsteps. “You’re going to be late!”

Shit. Shit shit shit shit.

In a panic, she sprints to dive back under the covers and pretends to be asleep still. Maybe she’ll get off without much of a punishment that way? Definitely less than the realization that she’d been awake and not getting ready for...school, presumably. She has no clue what this girl is usually like, but hopes that it isn’t painfully obvious what is going on here.

“Komaru?” The voice is closer this time, the sound of the door opening follows close behind. While she panics over the thought of what to do asides from pretending like she’s asleep, Touko misses the sound of footsteps approaching and flinches when the covers are tugged away from her head. She doesn’t mean to let out a whimper of fear when a hand comes down on her forehead, teeth clenched, not that the sound is interpreted as fear. “Are you feeling all right, dear? You’re not feverish, but you are a little sweaty...”

It takes her a moment to recognize the tone of this woman’s voice is one of concern, an incredibly foreign concept for her to expect from any parent ( she’s presuming this is the mother ). It certainly was never one she’d expected to hear from her own mothers, squeezing her eyes shut as if to ignore the truth. “N-No...” It’s not a lie, at least— all of this makes her feel sick to her stomach.

( It leaves an awful taste in her mouth, knowing the love that she is being shown here is just an illusion; not meant for her at all. And yet Touko wants something that she has never had. What an awful child she is )

“Why don’t you take it easy for today, then? If you feel no better later, you can start taking medicine.” She manages to utter a thank you, whatever will get her with no repercussions and left alone again, and there is a hand gently stroking back her hair before she is alone again.

Once ‘her’ mother leaves, she locks the door and buries herself under the blankets, so she can sleep and forget about today ever happening.

In comparison, Komaru Naegi finds herself having a much less than pleasant awakening. In that she doesn’t know what wakes her up, just that she is suddenly, forcibly awakened and in a room she doesn’t recognize.

Weird. Is she dreaming? It kind of feels that way, because she has no control over the body she currently resides in, marching over to the desk and reaches into the draw for...a pair of scissors? Really, really sharp scissors, but a pair of scissors nonetheless.

It’s not a dream. Get out. They hiss at her, scissors pointed at her— themselves? Oh boy. Uh.

“I don’t think I can do that.” She says aloud; wincing. “I don’t— I don’t know what’s going on...?”

Ugh. You think I know any better? ( Yes! Yes she does!! ) It’s totally bullshit that this is my wake-up call after ages, and she’s not even awake and instead I’m stuck with you? Ah. Shit, hold on a second how long has it been. They reach for the calendar, and she feels her face frown. Aw, it hasn’t been that long? She really forgot her own birthday coming up? Some heads up would’ve been nice instead of just waking up to this fucking mess. The voice continues to complain.

“Um...” She hates to interrupt, but she’s still pretty confused. “What do you mean? Who are you?”

You’re expecting me to just give that up without knowing your own name? Or do you not care?

“Sorry!” And she is, given that she’d kind of gotten ahead of herself. “Komaru. Komaru Naegi. But just Komaru is fine!”

Ah— Naegi? What are the odds— Dekomaru it is!

“What? That’s not my name at all!” Komaru completely manages to miss the faint recognition, huffing a pout. “And I told you, so answer my questions!”

Syo. And what I mean is that now I’m stuck explaining this shit— did you seriously not pay attention to any of that or are you that dumb? Geeze, listen to me this time. Okay, so we can have a lesson on proper terms and all that shit another time, long and short of it is that we share this body— miss gloomy and I. It’s technically her coming of age birthday today, which is why you’re here instead of her.

“Oh, okay.” Komaru nods along in agreeably, before her mind catches up and process the implications of what she’s been told. “Wait, you mean I— she— this is my soulmate?!” Her voice cracks as it pitches, hands quick to clasp out of her mouth, a little worriedly.

Yeah, obviously. And don’t worry, the rooms are soundproof. Otherwise, I would’ve already told you to stop replying out loud. People would think that’s weird. They sound amused, reaching back towards the table and fumbles around for a moment before raising something up into the field of their view.

This is a student ID card, which provides her with several helpful bits of information— none of which Komaru chooses to fixate on. “...Hope’s Peak?” What were the chances of that?

Focus, idiot. Do you have any idea of what this means?

Komaru beams, an expression that might have been frightening for anyone else to see on this face. “It means I can be a Hope’s Peak student for today!”

No. Ouch, that’s probably the most cold they’ve sounded so far. Which is saying a lot, considering how they’d greeted her. Well, maybe. I know she really wouldn’t like it if you went around in our body. She doesn’t like it when I force control over our body either, but if it’s you then she probably won’t care. Personally, I don’t give two fucks— I can give you tips on acting more like her if you want.

Komaru makes a face. “I’m bad at acting. Am I really that different?”

Given that you don’t shut up, yes. That’s not a bad thing. They add on when they seem to sense the indignation rising in her. You really want to go around like normal today?

“Please?” She begs in what is sure to not be the last time that Syo enables her in doing something she probably shouldn’t do.

Okay! You’re more fun to have to share with than madam morose. This is way more chaotic. If things go wrong, I’ll help you cover up.

Komaru thinks that’s supposed to be a compliment. Or flattery? Either way, she enthusiastically takes to observing her appearance in the mirror for a good several minutes— more than several, but who’s keeping track? Syo. Syo is— before they point out they’ll be late for class and still haven’t had breakfast. But Komaru really only registers late and class and grabs her bag and rushes out into the hall, only to realize she didn’t really know where she was supposed to be going.

Syo sighs at her and directs her in the right direction of their locker and then their class while Komaru considers what’s the best way to seem cool if she can’t technically be herself. And also try not to nervously overthink things. That is also a thing she tries to avoid.

You know it’s weird that we’re going to class early, right?

“It’s fine...!” She grumbles. I can’t help but be excited, okay? It’s not everyday I get to pretend to be attended one of the most prestigious schools in the country.

Uh huh. Okay. I don’t think it’s really ‘cool’ to be this early to class, but.. Syo snickers at her, and she pouts before opting to ignore them, gathering her nerves before ( with more confidence than the actual Touko Fukawa would ever muster ) pushing the door open and stepping inside the classroom.

And then the whole act cool plan falls apart because while Komaru had registered the, we’re at Hope’s Peak Academy, she had failed to consider the whole, this is the school my brother goes to, I might run into my brother dilemma that she is immediately forced to acknowledge in a very graceful manner.

( And by gracefully she means she very embarrassingly screams at Makoto and Syo cackles at her, and she learns a very important lesson on why she should not trust Syo so easily )

Unfortunately for Touko, her body refuses to sleep much, which means she is wide awake when someone tries to come into the room just after four. Clearly not giving up, a knock soon follows, and, “Fukawa-san? Can you let us in?”

And then the sound of her own voice, way too cheery for her own liking. “No one else is home right now, so you don’t need to worry about it. Please? I really want to meet you! Uhm, properly.” Silence follows, since Touko makes no attempt to acknowledge that- if she pretends to sleep, then they’ve got to give up eventually. Even if she can only run away for so long, given that Makoto will probably just confront her tomorrow if she doesn’t. “Uh, Syo-san says they’ll take matters into their own hands if you don’t...? I’m not really sure what that means, but...” Makoto makes a panicked noise and god damn it Syo. She hadn’t counted on Syo working against her as well. Should she have expected that from them? Eh.

( It might speak more about the other girl, if she’d managed to get something like Syo’s...approval? That doesn’t seem quite right, and feels weird to think about either way )

“Give me a moment.” She calls, just to make sure Syo doesn’t go ahead and try and start picking the lock or break a window or something else that’s drastic and unnecessary. Takes a deep breath as she pulls herself out of bed, doesn’t bother double-checking if she seems too presentable and trudges over to unlock the door.

No sooner than she does so, the door swings open cautiously— Touko manages to sidestep out of the way before she needs to worry about being hit by it. She can feel the other’s gaze focus in on her almost immediately, but she very pointedly decides to not meet her gaze, mostly because it feels weird to be looking at herself, and looks at the same bookcase she has been staring at for the past four hours straight.

( Manga. She hates it. Of course, she would be stuck with someone that loves something that she practically loathes. She also hates the fact that she’d also been so bored that she’d almost considered reading it )

The only thing she chooses to acknowledge is the fact that her hair is down and not braided, really could she not have put forth even that much effort— and that while having her in front of her now is much different from what she might have thought it to be, she really has no idea of what to think of her.

And then the other seems to decide that enough is enough and holds her hands in hers very excitedly. She can only guess what Syo makes of all this. Schadenfreude, probably. She doesn’t actually say anything to her, just giggles to herself ( she’s not sure if she’s trying to be creepy, or if that laughter is directed at something Syo is saying ).

“Stop that...It’s w-w-weird to see my face doing that.” She gnaws on her lip— is this what everyone else saw all day? That’s awful.

As if reading her mind ( and certainly not the atmosphere of room ), Makoto helpfully chimes in, “Give her a break, she’s done a pretty good job trying to not attract any unwanted attention.”

“They made me skip class.” She pouts, crossing her arms. “Syo even said that they’d take the blame for it, but no, I had to skip out.”

“You screamed at me and scared Fujisaki-san? I was more relieved that Ishimaru-kun was willing to get you excused for the day.” Oh good, at least she can count on having reliable notes and not misplaced homework like with some people ( Syo ).

“It wasn’t that bad, Makoto, you’re making it seem worse than it was—”

“Because screaming like that could come off as good somehow?” He butts in.

“— and what’s done is done, so with that said, let’s eat!” She raises a bag that she’d failed t notice earlier. “I know it’s a little weird, but it’s still your birthday, so we can at least celebrate, right? I even asked Syo what you’d prefer the most while we were at the bakery.” That kind of disgustingly desperate face is all too fitting and completely foreign on her face, and Touko scowls at her.

It’s also a very foreign thought to actually be celebrating her birthday for once, and with a practical stranger nonetheless.

“Actually, I have a call I’m supposed to make. So I’ll be waiting downstairs, Komaru— we do have to get back at a reasonable time, so I’ll come back up if you’re staying too long, okay?” Makoto flees in the most inelegant way possible, fittingly.

Traitor, she wants to yell at him. She’s not quite being left alone here, because Syo is clearly present, but it’s not the same. She still feels a sense of betrayal here on all sides nonetheless.

“Touko-chan! Come sit with me!” Not that she gets any say in this, dragged along by her hand into following. She considers telling her off because when did she say that she was allowed to call her that? But bites her tongue for the moment because she’s still a little startled about the ease at which she has accepted all of...this, given the fact that she’s currently got Syo co-fronting. She suspects that they have arbitrarily elected to not acknowledge the elephant in the room which is very annoying to her, but she’s not really given a chance to acknowledge that either since a plate is shoved into her hands.

Fruit tart. So she’s not lying about the fact that Syo has taken a liking to her, apparently.

( No she’s not jealous over her own apparent soulmate. Why on earth would she envy that? )

“Fukawa-san?” Pale lavender eyes peer up at her, lips pursed in a small pout. “I know this isn’t the most ideal situation, and..I don’t expect you to warm up to me right away. But I’d like it if we could meet again sometime, as ourselves.”

Touko gives her a long look, scrutinizing, and then looks away. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay!” She’s quick to agree like she’d said yes; humming happily with a fork in her mouth ( which would be cuter if she didn't have to look at her own ugly face ).

[thirsthourdemon]

What does happiness look like?

Includes: Kuroo

Genre: Angst, a tad of fluff

Warnings: cheating?

A/N: Mwuah Happy? What happy?

Cold and trembling, he was submerged into the freezing water up to his collar bones. Head resting on the dull coloured wall tiles of his bathroom, kuroo stared aimlessly at the edge of his tub. Chapped lips and a bored gaze on his pale face that night. Why cant we just be happy? To be obliviously happy. What did happiness even look like anymore? Was he even worthy of happiness?

These questions constantly seep their way into his head and like the overthinker he was, he’d spend hours remaining in the cold water pondering on when he was every going to see the light again. Bathing for decency. As he stood up from his position, he sneaked a peek at the autumn sky in the small compact window on top of his bathroom. Though his body was telling him to quickly cover himself, he simply took his time wearing clothes, still dazed. The moaning and groaning of his stomach, though not new, did not fell into deaf ears as he had thought to walked over to the local ramen shop to get something to eat. It wasn’t foreign for him to feel that as he had been doing that for a while. Eating just to survive. He pockets his keys and looks over at the jersey he was supposedly proud of. Framed with a picture of his previous volleyball team beside it. The smile he has on his face with the sweat dripping down his brow. Staying alive just for the sake of being alive.

What face will he make when he sees what happiness looks like again? The clicking of the door echoed telling him that he could go already. Once again taking his time, he admired the view of the night all the while not noticing the fumbling bike about to crash at him. In a swift moment he had barely moved aside as the bike had coming crashing into the pile of garbage cans. The loud crash scaring the kittens that have been concealing themselves using the bins and bags. “Im fi-hay-ne” she slurs through her loud announcement of her state while trying to pick herself up from the rubble.

“I wasn’t asking-“ “Well that’s mean! Didn’t your mother teach you to help those who needed it?” She banters while patting herself to rid of the dirt, though that did nothing to the stench that she now had on her. “You dont seem like you need help though...” his voice was in between a low growl and mumble. “Ha?! Look at this boy! Not even helping a lady! Who raised you?” She starts grumbling, picking up her bike and trying to get back on, ultimately failing. The night was so dark that only the light post was illuminating the way, looking at the ill mannered girl, he had finally gotten a good look of her face.

Scrunched up nose with stars for eyes, clearly scratched and a bit of filth layed on her soft cheeks. Her brows furrowed to the center and sweat glistening on her forehead. Cutting through his admiring thoughts” Then let me help you. My apartment is near by” he utters, seemingly regretting this but accepting the situation when she turns to him with a toothy grin and runs close him.

She smelled of garbage and oil, amusing him though she starts rambling about her day.

Wow she actually thinks I care...Hmmm...when will she even stop talking? At least she’s not awkward, I guess? What is she even talking about? “-So there I was right? He was trying to talk me into letting him eat me while I was on my period. Calling me his little ketchup packet-“ “HAHAHAHAHAHA WHAT?!” A hyena like laughter emits from his lips. When was the last time he even laughed like this? His grabbed onto his sides and cackled the night away. The night, the moment he looked at her...

His eyes relaxed and a small smile to his dry lips, that was the face he had when he had finally seen what happiness looked like again.

The face he had made everyday since then.

“Tetsu! Look at the kitten mugs! We should get some! It looks great!” “Y/N, we dont need-“ “LOOK! They even have nekoma themed mugs! And fukurodani ones! These are great! Did you know I actually went to fukurodani?” Her blabber was a tune that was constantly stuck to his head now. Watching her bring the mugs to the counter, he quickly hands his card to the register without her protest...well up until “I could have handled that yknow?” Another one of her famous complaints. Who knew happiness was a small woman in an old jacket and was as aggressive as a chihuahua?

“Fine, then you can buy the tea, kitten?” The raven offered as she feels her cheeks grow warm at the nickname. “Of course Im paying for tea, idiot!” Hurriedly grabbing her shopping bag and walking to the entrance that kuroo had opened for her. Walking side by side while munching on the weird convenience store they had both decided on.

“I like these! We should buy more next time, no?” Gasping at the delicious snack.

“Make yourself at home...” “Will do, sir~” she enters his apartment so casually and places the mugs down. Plopping down on her, self-proclaimed, spot while the rooster haired male had set up his kitchen for some tea she sets up the show they were going to watch. Spotting some packets of convenience store food, the smaller girl stared at them and started arising from her seat.

Kuroo felt small arms wrap around his waist and a cheek to his back. “Tetsu...” “Yes, kitten?” Replying with a teasing voice however regretting it as soon the male realizes what was happening. “I told you not to eat convenience store food anymore!” She scolds. Sigh It was a sight to behold. A 6ft tall man saying sorry to a smaller female, who was not even his lover, scolding him of not taking better care of himself. Though after all has been said and done she brings him to a cuddle on the couch. “Im just scolding you because I lov- ehem I..aughh I mean be-cause... you aren’t taking care of yourself again...you idiot” The last part sounding almost like a whisper. He was safe, content and most of all happy.

Recalling the questions he once had in his head.

Who knew happiness looked like her? An aggressive small girl who was way too confident.

A certain warm light to her eyes. Brow always dripping with sweat. She was fierce and weirdly competitive in things that don’t really matter.

‘Who could eat the most mochi?’ ‘Who could finish their tea first?’ Most of which the former captain would entertain. Happiness looked like her whenever she would run after the birds at the park and giggle at their “Cowardice” to face her.

Happiness sounded like her odd stories and her voice shouting at the store owner to haggle with her. She was happiness. She was his happiness.

He knew in himself that he liked her of course. Through his ups and downs they were together. The convincing him to go to classes. Y/N constantly riding up to his apartment just so she made sure he would actually go. Her constant “Good morning”...the...

“Tetsu, come on. It’s a great day to go to do something after classes!”

“OI! WHAT ARE YOU EATING?! You think rice is cheap? Ha?! Eat the food I made! No more instant noodles!”

“It’s okay. Let it all out. Im here. Your feelings are valid, okay?”

“Hey tetsu, I bought some Grilled Salted Mackerel pike!”

Until it became...

“Kitten! Let’s go to the beach!”

“Hey! Eat your food! It’ll get cold yknow?”

“Chibi-chan! You can’t even catch up!”

“Do you need help with that one? Here you do it like this...”

“Y/N, kenma said we’re meeting up at the cafe near the station. Wanna get ready at 10?”

“Hey shut the fuck up! She can wear whatever she wants. You’re just a pervert if you think you’re allowed to cat call her just for wearing clothes, ass hole”

Coming back to his younger, more passionate self. The happiest and the best version of himself, he thought that through this he was at least worthy and deserving of being loved by her.

However not everything is perfect. There were days where Y/N couldn’t even stop by. She was tired and she needed to rest for herself. Kuroo understand that but lately she was a bit too busy.

Was she busy? He wouldn’t have doubter her if...he hadnt..He saw her walking out of campus with a guy that day. More specifically the school’s counseling president.. She was so nice. Nice to everyone. Even to people like that. She was even nice to him. Him. He wasn’t even anybody. He was nothing and she was everything. He hated to think about it but...Maybe she just did that out of pity. She’s so nice that she would do that. Who was he?

Who was he to be important? He wasn’t a president of anything. He was just himself. Was he even worthy enough that she takes care of him to such an extent? What could he do for her though?

The sudden creak of the door alerts him, his sharp eyes meet Y/N’s frame holding a bouquet of flowers. “Oh hey can you help with these? The guys at the committee bought them for me as thanks but I honestly like gardens more hahaha Still sweet though” Taking off her shoes and handing him the big bouquet of red to pink roses. He could have done much better. She didn’t even like their stupid bouquet.

“There’s a green house tea house thing close to my university. Wanna go then? I mean Im going to be dropping some stuff off at my locker so-“ “Really?! Sure!” An excited squeal came from her lips while she stepped in and occupied the majority of the couch in a deflated or one might say tired pose.

“Please pick from our flower charms!” The host to the tea shop announcing enthusiastically at the duo. Normally the two would have picked different flowers however captivated by certain flowers with bright pink petals that point to the sky. Cyclamens with small papers which read “Fight for your love”.

Just like fortune cookies.

Well what do you know? Passionate love then? What a coincidence due to the situation. To fight for your love.

Being seated at their booth, both had looked around the place. Clumsily piled high with beautiful plants and the sun light almost seemed too perfectly placed. Y/N looked as if she belonged there. With the flora decorating her, one would have considered her a fairy. “You look...N-nice...kitten” stuttering to even find the right things to say.

Under the table...

She had gently inched her small fingertips to touch his calloused ones. Holding at least a portion of her hand. Soft ,comforting and happy. When the tea had arrived Kuroo had only taken a small sip until he rejected the floral drink completely. “You know Chrysanthemums actually means Loyalty and patience? It’s really cool!” With the tea’s edge to her slightly parted lips, the young female had taken a quiet sip.

She enjoys the date with her hand completely clasped in his under the table. Shoulders touching and giggling at whatever kuroo was showing her on his phone. It was literal paradise. Beautiful flora, wonderful food and amazing her. It was perfection in a moment. The sun’s afternoon light striped through her hair and a portion of her cheek. Magic.

It was all until she had started squirming and gripping his hand tighter. “T-tesu...I ughh...I like someone. It’s this guy and...he...I think he might be the one, tetsu! He buys tea with me and holds me like Im home...”

So he was right. He was correct this time. He was so used to being wrong that right now being right felt like a punishment. Tetsuro though that he was the only one who he did those things with. So right and so wrong at the same time.

The little glimmer of happiness in him slightly fading.

He was just there because she pitied him.

He hated it but he didn’t say that, he couldn’t. He had his signature grin on as he knuckles her hair he says something along the lines of “You! You’re going to scare him off! Hahaha! You’re so stubborn too, chibi-chan!”

The laughter was sweet as the tea he had refused to drink. A few moments later the male had left saying that he had to relieve himself though he barely drank anything.

1: 02 PM

3: 27 PM

“Miss, would you like me to sit with-“ “Oh? Oh! No! Sorry! Im actually with someone. Im just waiting for him”

“Oh sorry! I thought you were alone”

6: 12 PM

8: 45 PM

“Umm...miss, we’re actually going to close now”

...

“Hello? Tetsu-“ “This number cannot be reached. Please try again-“

“UGH! I am so kicking his ass when I see him! Ditching me like that!...” Shuffling to gather her things and hurriedly asking for the bill. She leaves the moment she’s cleared and in search of the rooster head male.

Meanwhile the male was in the library ever since. Trying to simply clear his head. Trying to understand what had just happened. Recalling the exact moment that you weren’t his anymore. When a woman in a skimpy outfit had cat called him when he was about to leave. Something about how he looked well hung. Livid, he grabbed her to the side which she obliged in.

This was wrong.

Though why would he care? He was always wrong. The one moment where he was correct he was also wrong. He clenched his fist and forcibly bit his lips.

He was cringing at all of this. Y/N was supposed to be his and yet...She had to choose...and she chose someone who deserved her love.

The disgusting moans of the woman he was making out with at the alley way. Hungry, disgusted and furious. His touches were rough and almost hurting her.

Again, why would he care? Y/N didn’t even like him! He was only taken care of out of pity! He was nothing! All he was...was wrong.

Empty and wrong.

He took it all out on the innocent girl’s cunt. Kuroo called out for her. Her nickname.

Grasping and groaning ‘kitten’. Balls deep in this bitch he picked up from the street when his phone started ringing.

The light of his screen illuminating them.

On the other side of this though...Y/N was walking to his apartment to see if he was there. Also just as livid. Tear stained. Her mascara smudged. No longer looking like a fresh flower. A wilted yellow carnation to her hair while her hands fumbled with her phone. She felt betrayed. She felt useless. It took so much for her to even confess! She had to time everything! To the hand holding and intimate touches.

Even rejecting the council president because of him!

He was a jerk! Why would he even invite her to a date if he was just going to ditch her?

Was she the one in the wrong this time though? Did he even like her? Why would he just invite her?

Did she misunderstand? Were they just friends?...

Finally confessing to him and he just-...mid step. Her head just momentarily looking to the side, to the alleyway. When a familiar figure was illuminated by a screen’s light in his pocket. A familiar figure with a familiar ring tone in a foreign situation. The flower on her hair dropping to her worn out shoes.

It was like a blink. Like a flicker of the light. It was at least just 2 seconds when she saw it.

There he was. Frustrated, grinning, calling out for his ‘kitten’ and balls deep in a girl she has never even seen before.

Taglist: @boosyboo9206 @kuroos-babie @yamaguchi-stan @janellion @cthuroo (thank you for helping me I love you) @my-mass-hysteria @zoppzoop

[juliussneezerfics]

Seborga: One-Time Party Planner

No problemo, dude! Prompts are prompts, no matter who they’re from! Unfortunately, I had a limited amount of time to write this fic before midnight tonight, so I couldn’t take you up on that challenge. It’s also a lot longer than I thought! But whatever. Hope you enjoy!

Ao3

With his brothers' birthday coming up, Seborga wants to plan the ultimate surprise party for them. He then realizes he may be a little in over his head and enlists the help of some friends.

***********

Seborga’s feet slapped the tiles of his kitchen as he cooked. It was about lunch time and he was making something light to eat. Something light to eat that wasn’t a salad, anyway. He was unable to understand how his brothers ate salads regularly. On an ordinary day, he would be singing to himself and shuffling across the tiled floor. Today, however, his mind was occupied. His 

brothers’ birthday was about a month from that day and he was figuring out logistics. He finished his sandwich and carried it into the living room. His coffee table was strewn with assorted papers detailing guests and things he still needed to do to have the party set up within a month.

He knew that he had a month to get it all done. To conduct a surprise party with this many guests was already difficult, but Seborga knew that on the day of their birthday he would be invited over to spend the day with them. Birthdays in their family was all about family and spending time together. But, Italy liked to consider the world his family, right? Surely the two wouldn't be too mad at a surprise party.

He scanned the guest list, chewing a bite of his sandwich. The first few guests were obvious, but how big should the party be? Of course, whenever Seborga did anything, he did it with style. The invitations list ended up being a page and a half long. Perhaps he was guilty of inviting a couple of his own friends, but of course planning a surprise party of this magnitude earned its own reward. Seborga wouldn't say he dreaded this part, but he knew that the start of planning the party, all the work, all the well-meaning deceit would start with the first phone call. Steeling his reserve, he started with the top of the list.

“Sebby!” Spain’s voice greeted, tinny over the phone speaker. “How great of you to call! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Well, as you know Feliciano and Lovino have an upcoming birthday-”

“On the seventeenth!” Spain interrupted. “I was just about to call you, actually! I wanted to take you three out to lunch to celebrate your brothers’ birthday.”

Seborga smiled. “Aww, Toni, that’s so kind of you! Actually, I was just about to invite you to a surprise party.”

“Ooh, seriously?” Spain sounded excited by the very prospect. “When?”

“I was thinking this evening.”

“Oh, so you won’t be able to make it for lunch.” Spain realized.

Seborga’s smile widened as he got an idea. “Actually, hang on. Can you occupy Feli and Lovi while we set up the party?”

“Of course! Hey, if you want you can host it at my house that way you three don't have to worry about cleaning up after the party.”

“Oh, that’s actually perfect!” Seborga was touched by Spain’s generosity. “Thank you so much, Toni!”

“No problem. So, how about I go over to pick them up around eleven. You can be sick or something so you can set up for the party at my house. When do I take them back to my house?”

“Um…” Seborga hadn’t thought that far. “Maybe around five thirty?”

"Sounds good. You can have everyone park behind the house that way they don't see all the cars before they head inside."

"Won't that mess up your lawn?"

"Eh." Spain said flippantly. "Grass is grass. It all grows back."

“I suppose so. Antonio, I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“Oh, anything for family!” Spain responded. “I’ll see you on the seventeenth!”

“See you then! Thanks, Toni! Oh, could you also invite…” Seborga leaned forward and went down his list. “France and Portugal?”

“Sure! Goodbye!”

“Bye!”

Seborga hanged up the phone, a weight lifted off his shoulders as he thought about what this meant for the setup of the party. Six and a half hours to set up. That would be fine, right? Then he happened to catch a glance of the guest list. How was he supposed to cook for all those people and decorate Spain’s house for the party? He would find a way. He had to. He leaned forward and crossed out Spain’s, France’s, and Prussia’s names. Okay. That was fine. Everyone he invited so far seemed to have good relationships with each other. Nothing to worry about. He hated to not invite certain people based on political circumstances and relationships between each other, but it was more important to have a friendly party than have a couple extra guests. Next on the list was Germany.

“Hello, Sebatian.” Germany’s curt voice greeted.

“Hi, Germany!” Seborga began. “Listen. I’m having a birthday party for my brothers on the seventeenth of March and I was wondering if that would work for you!”

“Of course. What time is it?”

“Five thirty at Spain’s house.”

“I can make it.” Germany said after a slight pause where he was likely checking his calendar. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Oh! Um…” Seborga hadn’t been expecting offers of help. “Actually, would you mind coming over a few hours early and helping me decorate? I’m sorry, I normally wouldn’t ask, but it’s just a lot for one person to do.”

“I’ll be over at two.” Germany answered.

“Wonderful! I can’t thank you enough, Germany.”

“No problem. I’m happy to help.”

Seborga smiled. Despite the joyful words Germany said, his words sounded monotone, as per his cadence of speaking. “Would you mind also inviting your brother, Liechtenstein, Switzerland, Austria, Hungary, and Russia and his siblings?”

"Hold on, would you mind repeating that? I have to write that down."

"Of course." Seborga laughed. "Sorry, I suppose that's a lot to remember." He slowly repeated the list.

“I can invite all of them, but I’m not exactly close to Russia and his family.” Germany said apologetically.

“But Hungary hangs out with Ukraine, right? So maybe she can make that happen?”

“I’ll ask her and see what she does.”

Seborga grinned. “Thank you so much! Could you also invite Japan, and tell him to invite his siblings?”

“If you want. I’ll also have Prussia come early with me. Japan will want to be there to help too, I’m sure.”

“Germany, you’re fantastic! My brother’s a lucky man!”

Germany cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Yes, thank you. I’ll see you the night of the seventeenth.”

“See you then! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. Goodbye.”

“Bye!”

Seborga hung up and smiled. He had a couple more calls to make, but everything was coming together. A weight lifted off his shoulders knowing that he was putting together a little committee. Suddenly, the prospect of planning the party seemed less like a chore and more like an opportunity.

The morning of the seventeenth, Seborga strode up to Italy and Romano’s house, coming in without ringing the doorbell. “Feliciano, Lovino, I’m here!”

From the distance, he could hear the sound of feet slapping the floor as Italy bolted down the hall and out into the foyer. “Seb!” He launched forward and wrapped up Seborga in a hug. “We’re so excited to see you!”

“I’m excited to see you guys, too. Happy birthday, Feli!” Seborga returned the hug.

Romano came into the foyer, holding a mug of steaming coffee, his mouth pulled into a relaxed smile. “Hi, Seb.”

“Hey, Lovino! Happy birthday!”

“Thanks.” Lovino came forward and hugged Seborga, not staying quite as long as Italy had. “How the hell are you?”

“Good, except for I think I’m coming down with something." Seborga couldn't help being nervous. He has always been a lousy liar.

“You are?! You think you could have told us before we hugged you!” Lovino exclaimed.

Italy frowned. “What makes you say that?”

“Bit of a fever. Little tired, back of my throat is sore, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, will you miss lunch?” Feliciano asked, concerned.

“May as well be safe. Don't want Toni to get sick.” Seborga said.

Lovino nodded, though he didn't appear to be delighted that Seborga was staying behind. “May as well. You look dead on your feet, Sebastian, did you get any sleep last night?”

Seborga had been up all night cooking the day before. He had gotten about half of it done, but there was still a lot to do. Not to mention delivering it all to Spain’s house in the dead of night. “No.”

“Well, you can sleep here.” Lovino said. “You can sleep in the guest room. We put fresh sheets there.”

“I put fresh sheets there.” Feliciano corrected. “We should probably stay back with Seb. We can’t leave him alone!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” Seborga said, waving a hand dismissively as he toed off his shoes. “It’s your guys’ birthday! You should at least celebrate it. I’ll take a nap, I’ll probably be feeling better by the time you guys get back.”

“Are you sure?” Italy asked.

“Absolutely. You guys go enjoy your lunch!”

Lovino frowned. “It would be pretty rude to cancel on Spain this late in the game.”

“You guys have fun, I’ll be napping.” Seborga ruffled their hair as they passed, Feliciano frowning at the action. Romano scowled, but kept his mouth shut as he passed.

“We’ll have our phones on us. Text if you need anything!” Feliciano said.

“Will do.”

Almost as if on cue, someone knocked on the door.

Spain let himself in. “Hola! Happy birthday, boys!”

“Hi, Toni!” Feliciano greeted.

“Hi,” Romano greeted as Spain bent down to kiss his fiancé’s cheek.

Spain pulled away, his brow furrowed as he pushed his hands into his jean pockets. “Is something wrong, Lovi?”

“Seb has a cold and he can’t go to lunch.”

“Aww, really?” Spain stepped forward and pulled his right hand out of his pocket, slapping it against Seb’s outreached hand. “Sorry, Seb.”

Seb returned the handshake, blinking as he registered something small and metal being pushed into his hand. As Spain pulled his hand away, Seborga put his clenched hand into his pocket, smiling. He hoped his shock didn't register too prominently on his face. “It’s okay. It happens.”

“Get plenty of sleep, drink some fluids. I hope you feel better soon!” Spain said. His back turned to Italy and Romano, he subtly winked at Seborga.

Seborga nodded. “I will. You guys have fun!”

“We will!” Italy said.

Romano pulled on his jacket. “Take care of yourself. Of course you had to get sick on our birthday, bastard.” Despite his words, Romano's words were laden with pity.

“Sorry, Lovi.” Sebastian apologized. He knew that it was just part of the surprise, but he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

“Don’t worry about it.” Romano zipped up his jacket. “Just get better. We don’t like it when you don’t feel good.”

“I’ll be fine. You guys better get out of here, or the restaurants are going to close before you even get lunch.”

“Okay. Bye, Sebby!” Italy waved, opening the door.

The three exchanged a few more goodbyes before they finally left. Seborga waited until he could hear the car leaving the driveway before he sprung up from the couch and pulled the key Spain had given him out of his pocket. He cringed. It was a good thing he hadn't made it upstairs before Spain had arrived. He'd forgotten all about the fact that Spain's door would be locked! He pulled on his leather jacket and fished his keys out of his pocket. “Okay. I have to hurry. Gotta’ cook, have to decorate, and Germany and the others will be at Spain’s in a couple hours.” He pushed open the front door and strode over to his motorcycle, pulling his helmet on. It was a short drive to Spain’s house, but regardless he couldn’t seem to get over there quickly enough. He hurriedly parked in front of the garage and unlocked the door. He then pushed through a few doors until he got to the garage and found the button to open the garage door. He ducked under the still-opening door and kicked up the kickstand to his motorcycle, pushing it into the garage. He then shut it and, pulling off his jacket, threw it onto the couch. He knew that in the kitchen fridge he would find several pasta dishes, a lasagna, salad ingredients, and a few beginnings to a cake he was making. Something light and delicate, with a coffee flavor. Enough to satiate Italy’s sweet tooth while also catering to Romano’s love of a balanced dessert. It would be difficult to navigate Spain’s kitchen, but he had plenty of time to figure out where everything was.

He had only been cooking for a couple hours when someone rang the doorbell. Seborga peeked over to the clock over the stove. Whoever it was, they were half an hour early. He rinsed his hands of flour and dried them on a towel as he hurried to the door to let whoever it was in. He opened the door. “Oh, Germany and Prussia! Thank you two so much for coming!”

Prussia was donned in a T-shirt that featured a crowd of chicks that read: ‘hanging with my peeps’ and a pair of black jeans paired with a pair of red converse. He grinned at Seborga. “We’re super excited to help. This will be the awesomest party in the world! Especially with me decorating.”

Germany was, of course, dressed far more reservedly in a pale blue button down shirt and navy blue work slacks. “We brought some beer and wine just in case. It’s in the trunk of my car, so we can get that whenever you want it in here.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Seborga said. “We can actually bring it in now so it can get chilled before the guests arrive.”

The three stepped off the porch as Germany popped the trunk of his car.

“You look so formal, Germany, where’s your party outfit?” Seborga asked.

“I’m wearing it.” Germany answered, a slight smile on the corners of his lips. “My pants are blue. Not black.”

“Ooh, crazy!” Prussia joked. “I tried to get him to wear a party hat, but he refused.”

Germany opened up his trunk, revealing enough boxes of beer and wine to satisfy all the guests to the party. “Here we are.”

“Holy hell!” Seborga laughed. “How did you fit all this in your trunk?”

“Not just that.” Prussia rounded the back of the car with an impish grin and opened the back door of the car. “We have some in the back seat, too! Enough to get everyone hammered!”

“You guys are the best!” Seborga high-fived Prussia with a smile.

“You say that now.” Germany reached own and pulled out a case of beer without an issue. “We still have to take it all in.”

After they got all the drinks inside, Seborga straightened and clapped his hands once together.

Germany too straightened and flexed his hands to bring feeling back into them after bringing in so many boxes.

Prussia too stood up straight, a hand coming up to the small of his back as he grunted. “Ow.”

“Right!” Seborga took a look at the alcohol in the kitchen. “I’ll find some coolers and put the beers up. Germany and Prussia, Spain said he should have some decorations in several bags in the living room. You two go on ahead and start setting those up!”

Germany nodded, pleased to have a duty, and left.

Prussia waited until Germany was barely out of earshot. “Don’t be fooled by his cheerful disposition. He’s excited to be here helping out.”

“No, I know.” Seborga responded. “That’s just how he is.”

“I guess he’s just nervous.” Prussia said, a knowing smile on his face.

“Nervous about what? It’s just a party with people he knows. No big deal!”

For a moment, Seborga could recognize the tiniest flicker in Prussia’s eyes. A flicker of fear. A flicker that he realized he had said too much.

Prussia’s winning smile widened until it stretched awkwardly over his teeth. “Ah, you know him. Just so socially awkward. I bet he just wants things to be perfect for his boyfriend.”

Seborga mentally filed away Prussia’s reaction, but decided to leave it be. Prussia looked uncomfortable as it is. “As if you can tease Germany for wanting things to be perfect. Remember Canada’s birthday?”

“Eh, it’s whatever.” Prussia’s pale ears flushed pink, followed quickly by his cheeks and neck.

“The photos were really sweet!” Seborga teased, poking a finger into his ribs.

Prussia laughed, stepping away. “Ow! Hey!”

“Go help your brother. We’re going to be out of time before we know it.”

The doorbell rang, the two distracted by the noise.

Seborga smiled. “That has to be Japan! Go on in to help Germany.” He started to make his way toward the door.

“Sure! Little warning, France said he would show up a bit early to help out.” Prussia called to Seborga’s back.

“I’m glad!” Seborga responded as he reached forward to grab the doorknob. “We need the extra help!” He pulled open the door, confronted with the sight of Japan. “Good afternoon, Japan!”

“Hello.” Japan said with a polite smile. He bent at the waist. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Seborga too bowed. “Thank you for coming over early to help!”

“Of course.” Japan straightened. “I brought a gift for Italy and Romano, as well as a bottle of Saki.” Japan gestured toward a basket hanging on his arm.

“Aww, that’s so sweet! Here, let me get that for you!” Seborga reached forward and accepted the basket from Japan. “Come in, come in! Germany and Prussia are already here to help hang up decorations.”

“Thank you. Is there any way I can help you?”

“Nope, but thank you!” Seborga answered.

Japan stepped inside. “Then I will help Germany and Prussia with decorations.”

“Thank you!” Seborga said as Japan made his way to the living room. After Seborga had strode to the kitchen, he opened the basket and looked mournfully inside. “What am I supposed to do with all this booze?”

The rest of the day went by in a similar fashion, with Seborga baking and periodically interrupting his progress to answer the door. France first arrived early, followed by Hungary and Austria, and even Canada and America. The decorating got done sooner than Seborga had expected, and soon there was nothing more inside to be done. Seborga pulled the final layer of the cake out of the oven and glanced at the clock over the stove. Only two hours. That would be cutting it close for sure on the cake. He glanced outside into the back yard. Shit, he had forgotten about the tent!

He stepped out of the kitchen to the living room full of chatting people. He clapped his hands twice for everyone’s attention. “Are there any big, strong people here?”

“Hell yeah!” Prussia shouted, his open hand shooting up into the air.

Hungary reached over and pulled Prussia’s hand down. “Easy there, Prussia, I think Seborga was talking to me.”

“Cute, folks.” America added. “Sorry to say, but I think I have you beat.”

“Oh yeah?” Prussia challenged. He pushed the sleeve of his T-shirt up to his shoulder. “You. Me. Arm wrestling. Now.”

Seborga once again clapped his hands together for their attention. “It’s fine, you’ll all do. You three go down and get the canopy tent out of Spain’s basement.”

“I can still get it up quicker than you can.” America challenged, pulling his sleeves up his arms as he pushed past Prussia.

Prussia only took a moment to recover before Hungary too bumped into him as she bolted past America.

Seborga rolled his eyes, grinning. “Okay. France, Austria, and Canada. There are some lantern lights down in the basement. Can you take them up and string them in the branches of the backyard trees?”

“Of course. Anything for you, Seb!” France said. He was followed by Austria and Canada as they hustled down the steps.

“Anything you need me to do?” Germany asked.

Seborga snapped, turning around. “Actually, yes! I need your help decorating the birthday cake. I know you’re super good with that kind of thing.”

“I try to be.” Germany said bashfully, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m not good at the small details. My hands are too big.”

“That’s okay. All help is important!” Seborga affirmed, waving Germany toward the kitchen. He paused and shouted down into the basement. “Oh, before you guys start you have to park your cars in the back so the boys don’t see them before they come into the house!”

“Got it!” Canada shouted, his quiet voice only slightly amplified by the echo of the basement. “Thank you, Seborga!”

Seborga then joined Germany in the kitchen, where he was searching the cabinets for bowls and pulling them out systematically by size.

“I know you wanted me to help, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do so I... got bowls.” Germany said, awkwardly waving to the assortment on the counter.

Seborga smiled. He’d always liked Germany. Though the man was intimidating on the outside, there was a kind of friendly awkward charm that made him impossible to dislike.

Twenty minutes later they had somehow stacked the three layers of cake and were frosting it with a crumb coat. Though Seborga knew that Germany's help would be instrumental to getting the cake done in time, but the two were actually ahead of schedule! With how well everything was going, Seborga had a difficult time thinking of anything that could make him any happier.

“So…” Germany began.

Seborga smiled as he frosted the outside of the second layer. “So?”

“I have… a question to ask you.”

Seborga looked over, alarmed by the nervous tone Germany had.

Germany was scooping more frosting onto his spatula, apparently avoiding Seborga’s gaze.

“Yes, of course!”

“So…” Germany began frosting he cake once again. “Your brother.”

“My brother.” Seborga repeated with an encouraging smile.

Germany lowered he spatula and finally met Seborga’s gaze. “I... love Feliciano very much. I have for a very long time. And maybe it’s a bad time, because I know Lovino and Spain are already engaged, but…”

Seborga’s mouth split into a joyful grin.

“I wanted to propose this evening.” Ludwig seemed to force it out, like keeping it in any longer would be painful. “If that was okay with you. I wanted your blessing.”

“Aww, Ludwig, that’s so sweet!” Seborga crooned. “Of course you have my blessing!”

Ludwig, relieved, let out a rare full smile. “That’s a relief. I already had Lovino’s blessing, but still…”

Seborga jumped up and down, clapping his hands. He already liked Ludwig, but he occasionally found himself still surprised by how sweet and considerate he could be. “Oh, this is fantastic! When are you planning on doing it?!”

Germany shrugged, scooping more frosting onto his spatula. “I thought I could do it late this evening, after most people had left. I figured the more private the better.”

“That’s perfect.” Seborga affirmed, resting a hand on Germany’s arm. “He’ll want to tell his family afterword, you know. He wouldn't be opposed to telling other people too, but I think he would prefer for it to just be a family moment."

“I know.” Germany’s lips pulled into a sentimental close-mouthed smile. “So I was hoping you and your brothers would stay here for a while after the party.”

“We can make that happen.” Seborga gave Germany a thumbs-up before he remembered they were working on a time limit. He continued to frost the cake. “Will Prussia be there?”

Germany shook his head. “No. We agreed to, if Feli says yes, go out for drinks and celebrate together this weekend. I imagine he will go home with France of Canada this evening.”

“This is perfect!” Seborga cheered, hardly able to contain himself. “Oh, and it’ll be perfect with all the lights in the trees, and the tent, and with how nice it is outside…”

“And that path Spain has around his yard, bordered by flowers.” Germany added. “It’s supposed to be a clear night.”

Seborga continued to frost the cake, smiling so wide that his cheeks began to hurt.

Ten minutes before Spain and his brothers were supposed to arrive, Seborga took one last lap around the house to check all the details. “Food warming in the oven, check. Cake in the fridge, check.” He peeked out the kitchen window. “Lanterns, tent, tables, decorations…” He then left the kitchen and made his way to the living room. “The decorations are up…”

Indeed, they were. Streamers were strung all across the room, balloons were weighed down and floating over top of the couch's side tables and a banner hung over the furniture that wished the two brothers a happy birthday.

Seborga’s gaze settled onto the coffee table, which had a vase of lilies proudly blooming. “Oh, those are gorgeous! Who brought those?”

“We did.” Austria answered, his chest puffed out with pride. “Hungary thought it would be nice to bring the boys some flowers.” His gaze settled adoringly on his wife.

Hungary smirked at Austria. “Making them their national flower was his idea.”

Austria uncomfortably cleared his throat as his cheeks flushed. “Yes, well… yes, it was.”

Seborga laughed at Austria’s discomfort. “Well, it was very sweet.” He peered around the room, the living room full of treasured friends. Invited to the party were all of the former allied powers standing around the room, with the exception of America who was sitting and leaning his elbows on the coffee table. China, Hong Kong, Taiwan, and South Korea were all crowded around the coffee table, South Korea laughing at a joke America had just made. Russia’s sisters were attending, Ukraine standing between Hungary and Liechtenstein and Belarus standing by her brother looking like she would rather not be there. Switzerland was perched on a chair muttering something to Portugal, Liechtenstein leaning against the back of the chair. All of the Nordics squeezed onto one couch. The micronations had also come, crowded at the edge of the room. “Everything appears to be in order!”

“It was very good of you to set all this up, Seborga.” England’s words were accompanied by a sincere smile.

Seborga rubbed the back of his neck bashfully as the sentiment was repeated by the guests. “Aww, it was good of you all to come and celebrate my brothers with me. I’m not sure how Romano will react, he doesn’t exactly love surprises.” He felt a buzz in his back pocket, pulling his phone out of his pocket, his eyes widening.

“Something wrong?” Finland asked from the couch.

Seborga slid his phone back in his pocket. “Spain texted. They’ll be here any minute!”

China brushed past Seborga. “Taiwan, come help me turn out all the lights!”

Taiwan sprang up from her place by the coffee table.

“We have to hide!” Monaco stepped forward, crouching behind the couch.

There was a sudden scrambling as everyone tried to find places to hide.

“How do you hide this many people?!” Sealand cried.

“Sealand!” Seborga barked. “You and Wy are small! Hide under the coffee table!”

“There isn’t enough room to hide everyone.” Germany said urgently.

Seborga licked his lips as he tried to think. “Everyone, try and hide behind the counters in the kitchen!”

All the Asian countries moved to the kitchen, followed closely by Norway and Sweden.

Seborga looked around urgently as the lights went out in the living room, eventually settling on just standing against the wall where the door would open. He would just have to pray that they didn’t shut the door to reveal him before everyone stood and surprised them.

As Seborga pressed himself against the wall, he watched America whip his head around in search of hiding spots in the seemingly empty living room. Eventually he sprinted over to a corner and moved a lamp that was standing in the corner. He did a handstand where it once stood. “Someone help me!” America shouted. “I need someone to put the lampshade over my feet!”

Seborga could hear France snicker from somewhere in the living room. “Are you being serious?”

“I can’t feel my face anymore! You think I’m not being serious?!” America whisper-yelled.

Belarus finally stood from behind the couch and jogged over to the corner, pulling the lampshade off the lamp and settling it on America’s foot. On her face was a rare smile. “This is idiotic.”

“Hey, this is genius.” America refuted.

“Flatten your feet.” Belarus ordered. “The lampshade will not be staying straight up.”

“Oh, sorry.” America began sarcastically. “Let me just bend my foot to lie against my frickin’ leg. I forgot I’m a contortionist.”

“If you continue your whining, I can be making your feet bend in that way.” Despite her words, Belarus’ words held no bite.

Japan peeked his head up over the back of the armchair, his brow furrowed into a worried frown. “Please, we are running out of time before they get here.”

Belarus finally just lifted her hands off the lampshade and retreated back to her hiding place.

Seborga shushed the muttering room as he strained to listen. “That’s Spain’s car! Everyone be quiet!” He listened to the car’s engine shut off. Listened to the doors of the car open and shut. Listened to the three converse as they walked from the car to the porch.

“We’d better hurry.” Italy’s voice was muffled by the door.

A key was pushed into the lock and turned. “I will.” Spain's voice promised. “I wanted to get him something before I dropped you off to your place. I borrowed a pair of jeans from him and forgot to give it back to him.”

There was a slight pause as the door opened.

“Hold on.” Romano’s voice said, tinged with suspiciousness.

The door swung open further. Seborga sucked in his gut. If the door bounced off him, his brothers would immediately know something was up. He withheld a sigh of relief as the door stopped an inch from his torso.

Romano stepped in.

Seborga was able to see Romano’s arm.

Romano’s arm was bent, apparently resting his hands on his hips. “You two aren’t even close to the same size in pants."

Spain reached forward and paused for a moment, scanning the room. His gaze apparently settled on America for only a moment before he laughed nervously. “Sure we are! At any rate, it’s not about he pants.” He extended his arm forward, flicking the living room light on.

Everyone sprung out from their hiding places, all shouting surprises and happy birthdays.

Italy sprung in shock for a moment before he started laughing.

Romano jumped backwards, screaming Italian profanity for a moment before he apparently realized what was going on and recovered. A rare belly laugh erupted from him as he saw everyone. “Oh my God."

“This is amazing!” Italy laughed, his eyes darting around to see everyone.

Seborga sprung out from behind the door, clamping his hands down onto Romano’s shoulders. “Surprise!”

Romano spun around, screaming once again. His mouth once again split into a rare smile. “You asshole!” He punched his shoulder. “You weren’t sick at all!”

“No, I wasn’t.” Seborga laughed at his reaction. “I needed to stay behind to set all this up!”

“You did all this?!” Feliciano asked.

“Well, I had a little bit of help.” Seborga admitted.

Romano turned to face Spain, who was still laughing at his reactions. “You were in on this, weren’t you?”

Spain looked down at his fiancé. “Yes, of course I was.”

Italy looked around the room, toeing off his shoes to go greet all the guests. “This is incredible! Thank you all so much!”

The guests gathered around Italy, giving him well-wishes and greetings.

Romano hung back, turning to face Seborga. “Sebastian, thank you.”

“Of course!” Seborga grinned. “I have great older brothers. Not as good of a brother as I am, of course, but…”

Romano lightly punched Seborga on the shoulder with a smirk. “You’re such a brat.”

“Go talk to all the guests! They’re excited to see you!” Seborga waved Romano further into the living room.

Romano smiled to Seborga briefly before he made his way through the ocean of people.

Spain watched his fiancé mingle with the crowd, wordlessly lifting his hand for a fist bump.

Seborga watched America collapse from his handstand, knocking his fist against Spain’s in victory.

“See?!” America cried victoriously, standing among the shocked concern and carefree laughter. “I told you all they wouldn’t notice!”

The party went on swimmingly. The alcohol Germany and Prussia brought was a huge success, the party moving outside as everyone mingled. The food was enjoyed immensely, Seborga growing slowly more and more bashful as people praised him on his cooking. The real showstopper, though, was when the cake was brought out. Three layers of cake, Seborga’s own recipe. Coffee flavored, yet somehow light. This was a huge success to everyone except for Sealand, who didn’t like coffee. Seborga, expecting this, secretly slipped him some candy under the table for later. Everything went without an issue. No fights, no arguments, no drunken shenanigans (Seborga had France to thank for keeping Spain and Prussia under control). As the night got darker, half the guests began to break away and head home. The small party moved indoors, easily chatting in the living room. They swapped stories about the birthday boys, Germany divulging the classic favorite story of how the brothers learned to use grenades. To Romano’s credit, he took the slight humiliation with grace, the alcohol and pure happiness within him appearing to make him more easygoing. Finally, the evening was winding down and people were finally heading home.

Seborga watched as Germany and Canada escorted Prussia to the door, who was now so tipsy that he could hardly walk.

“You’re a great brother, you know.” Prussia slurred, Germany catching him as he stumbled.

Germany righted him, apparently used to his antics. “Yes, I know.”

“And you!” Prussia whipped his gaze to Canada. “You’re, like, the awesomest boyfriend in the world.”

Canada smiled. “Yes, I know.”

“I’m super serious!” Prussia continued. He tried to slide his shoes on, laughing as he was unable to. “You’re so nice all the time. Especially to me. Which is especially nice since I sometimes forget how to be nice.” He successfully slid on a shoe. “Ha! Got it!” He went limp, as if his bones suddenly lost structural integrity.

Germany grunted in surprise, catching him.

Prussia cackled. “I love you guys, you know that?”

“Yes, yes, we know that.” Germany grunted, apparently growing tired of Prussia.

“Prussia,” Canada said. His voice was rather similar to a kindergarten teacher speaking to a tired toddler. “How about you get your other shoe on?”

Prussia tried to stand. “Yes, of course! Anything for my Birdie!” He slid the other shoe on, smiling dopily at Canada. “The ultimate act of love.”

Canada appeared to be biting back a laugh. “Yes. Thank you, Prussia.”

“Alright,” Germany rolled his eyes. “Let’s get you to Canada’s car.”

“Woohoo!” Prussia stuck his two fists in the air as if he were at a concert. “Hell yeah! I get to go to my Birdie’s house!” As he was escorted to Canada’s car, he continued to shout in German.

Even as the door shut, Seborga could hear Prussia shouting with elation.

Spain laughed, his cheeks flushed. “He’s great.”

“He’s entertaining, at any rate.” Romano said, leaning back against the couch. “Don’t get me wrong, that was a good party. But I’m happy it’s over.”

Seborga too relaxed back in his chair. “Me too.”

Italy grinned. “That was the perfect party, Sebby. You did a great job.”

“Thanks.”

Spain leaned forward. “Seb, I love you, but you look like you’re dead.”

Seborga let out a surprised laugh. “You’re a real charmer, Toni, I can see why Lovino wanted to marry you.”

“Part of my natural charm, I guess.” Spain rested his arms on the back of the couch.

“Whatever you say, bastard.” Romano rested his head against Spain’s arm.

Seborga heard the door open, turning his head to watch Germany step into the house with a tired sigh.

“That bad?” Italy asked with a grin.

“Everything was fine until he started singing.” Germany shuffled into the living room, collapsing on the couch next to Italy. “I knew it was all over when he started singing ‘The Model’ by Kraftwerk at the top of his lungs.”

Italy laughed, Seborga and Spain joining in. Romano was apparently so tired that all he could muster was a smile.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Germany asked Italy.

Italy smiled. “A walk sounds nice. It’s so gorgeous outside!”

Germany stood. “Good, good. Let’s go.” There was a practiced casualty to his movements. A practiced casualty that was not executed well. His movements were almost stiff, his expression awkward.

“Okay,” Italy smiled. “No need to be so stiff, sir. All the guests are gone.”

“Right.” Germany tried for a casual smile, but it looked almost as if the smile caused him pain.

Italy shook his head with a grin. “You’re going to need a week of isolation after today, aren’t you?”

Germany laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he went to go put his shoes on. “Guess so.”

Seborga determinedly faced forward as the two put on their jackets and, conversing, left the house. He didn’t want to give anything away.

Romano lifted his head slightly as the door shu. His brow was slightly furrowed. “Let’s see if the potato bastard can get the proposal out before he spontaneously combusts.”

Seborga laughed. “I’m sure he’ll be able to.”

Spain smiled lazily. “Remember when I proposed to you, Romano?”

“Of course.” Romano smiled. The grin was full. Unguarded. “The dinner, the fashion show, the gelato under the stars. All of it. The proposal in the gazebo.”

“Did he ever tell you what we did after I proposed, Sebastien?” Spain asked.

Romano groaned. “Stop.”

“We danced.” Spain smiled at the memory. “Your brother may not look it, but he’s a romantic.”

“Don’t know what else you would expect out of an Italian.” Seborga said.

“There wasn’t any music, you know.” Spain continued.

Romano cringed, covering his face with his hands. “Stop.” His words were muffled, but no less desperate.

“But he didn’t care. I just hummed for us and we danced.”

“You never told me that part, Lovi!” Seborga teased with an impish grin.

“Because I would rather die.” His hands still concealed his face.

The three of them conversed for a while, the passing of time causing the conversation to be stunted and awkward. awkward. The three of them were each distracted by thoughts both positive and negative. Of course, Seborga was almost certain that Italy would say ‘yes’. But as time passed longer and longer, Seborga couldn’t help but realize that if they were taking this long to return, then the outcome likely wasn’t positive. Ten minutes turned into twenty minutes, which turned into half an hour, which eventually became 45 minutes.

“What’s taking them so long?” Romano asked.

Seborga frowned. “You don’t think Feli didn’t accept the proposal, do you?”

“Of course not.” Romano shook his head. “He loves Ludwig too much to.” Regardless, he looked at his watch, his expression slightly unsettled.

Spain bounced his leg. A nervous habit of his. “Everything’s probably fine.”

Regardless, the forty five minutes turned into an hour. A few minutes after the hour passed, the door opened.

Seborga kept his eyes fixed pointedly ahead, despite the fact that both Spain and Romano watched the door swing open. He knew Italy probably accepted the proposal. But if he didn’t, he wanted to afford Germany and Italy some privacy.

Shoed feet slapped against the hardwood floor, someone bolting into the house. Italy popped into the living room, his face alight with happiness. “Guys, guys, guys!”

“What?” Spain asked, smiling. To those watching without context, the expression would be of pure curiosity. But to one who knew what the three knew, it was impossible to miss the mingling relief in the toothy grin.

Germany too walked through the door, his face alight in what could only be described as pure joy.

Seborga choked back a laugh as he noticed Germany’s hair was almost completely undone, the collar of his shirt was wrinkled, and his face was flushed. Even with his mouth stretched in a wide grin, his lips were red and very obviously swollen.

Italy bound into the room. Upon closer inspection, his face was equally flushed, his lips equally swollen. He held his hand out, displaying a gold engagement ring. “We’re engaged!”

“What?!” Seborga cried, standing and clutching Italy’s hand to look at the ring.

Italy laughed. “It’s okay, guys, Luddy told me you guys knew.”

“Of course he did.” Romano shook his head, but he was smiling. “Congratulations, Feli.”

“Thank you!” Italy rubbed his cheeks. “I’m smiling so hard my cheeks hurt!”

“What took you guys so long?” Romano asked. “We were starting to get worried!”

Germany stepped forward, still grinning. “I was so nervous, we rounded Spain’s yard several times before I actually asked him.”

“Then he asked me, I said yes, and we walked around the yard a few more times before we finally came back in to tell you!”

“Mm-hmm.” Seborga crossed his arms. “Just walking around the yard.”

Germany cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at Spain and Italy’s brothers.

“To be fair,” Italy said. “We did walk around the yard a few times to talk a bit.”

“Congratulations, you two.” Spain grinned, stepping forward to shake their hands.

“Lovi, we’re both engaged at the same time!” Feliciano cheered, springing forward and hugging his brother.

Romano stiffened at the hug, apparently being in a good enough mood not to immediately pry his brother off of him. “Yes, we are! But I’m having my wedding first.” The words held no bite.

“Now all you have to do is get engaged too, Sebastian.” Germany joked.

Seborga smiled to himself, looking down at his shoes. “I dunno’. Don’t think I’m the marrying type.”

“That’s what Romano said.” Italy reminded him. “Look at him now!”

Seborga laughed in agreement, though he internally rolled his eyes. He knew there was a certain pressure to be with someone as a romantic country. He did enjoy flirting every now and again, but the part he liked about it was how people's faces would light up at the attention. He had never been one for romance, and he doubted he ever would be. He was too elated about the new engagement, however, to pursue that conversation with his brothers. About half an hour later, Seborga was about ready to fall asleep in his chair.

“Getting a little tired, Sebby?” Spain asked.

Seborga opened his eyes, not realizing he had allowed them to close. “Hmm? I guess so.”

“Will you be okay to drive home?” Germany asked from the couch. “I can drive you, if you want.”

Seborga shook his head. “No. I’ll be fine. The wind will keep me awake. I should head out, though, before I get any more tired.”

“Bye, Seb!” Italy stood and wrapped his arms around Seborga. “Drive safely.”

“I will.”

Romano too stood. “Thank you for the party, Seb. It was wonderful.”

“Of course!” Seborga responded, smiling.

“Just promise me one thing.”

“Sure.”

Romano smirked. “Never do it again. You look exhausted.”

Seborga laughed, shaking his head. “If again, not for a long time.”

Spain stood, also hugging Seborga. “Sleep well tonight. You’ve earned it.”

“I plan on it.”

Germany also stood, stepping forward. He awkwardly raised his arms up for a hug.

Seborga smiled, sticking his hand out for a handshake. “It’s okay, Big guy. I know you’re not a hugger.”

Germany looked relieved as he shook Seborga’s hand, giving a close-mouthed smile. “Thank you. Drive safely.”

It took Seborga only ten more minutes to pull himself away from his siblings and future brothers-in-law, him rolling his motorcycle out of the garage with relief. He pulled on his helmet, starting up his motorcycle. He was glad it was a short drive to his house. While he normally would have parked it in his garage, the sky was completely clear. He settled to just park it in his driveway. He was exhausted. Seborga slipped out of his jacket, hanging it on a peg on the door. He walked into his hallway, past the living room and out to his white wooden deck. The moon was full, the beams reflecting on the waves as they lapped onto his white-sand beach. He finally let out a long, slow, exhausted sigh. “You killed it, Sebby.” He closed his eyes, relishing the lack of voices. The lack of phone calls, the sounds of crepe streamers, the smell of the ocean rather than the smell of baking cake. The sounds of the water moving against itself, mixing and mingling with grains of sand relaxed him and slowed his heartbeat. For a moment, he stood and relished the sound of being completely alone.

Send in fic requests if you have any! 

[cowtale-utau]

Oof. Been working on Haze’s entry for the the soulmate prompt @searchingwolf sent me. 1406 words. It just kept going. But its finally done. The prompt said “stumbled upon” which I initially took as to mean “first meeting” but realized it didn’t necessarily have to be, so I’ll be playing with that a bit. 

Here you have it, Haze

He heard the fight before he saw it. It was dusk, fading quickly into dark and Haze was taking the rare moment to himself to go for a walk. He had no intention of involving himself in what he assumed was yet another drunken brawl until as he passed closer he felt you. Your soul reaching out. Resonating in the perfect complimentary counter to his own. He knew that resonance well. Ever since that dinner party the Montgomery family had hosted.

You'd been curled up on a settee in an out of the way sitting room, chatting softly with Cirrus. His normally reclusive little brother had been unusually animated in his responses. So despite the resonance, despite the ache already setting in, he walked away, without a word. He would never interfere in Cirrus' happiness, no matter how much pain it may cause himself. He'd seen you again in passing once or twice since then. Out in the gardens with his brother. Had never exchanged more than distant cordial greetings. Maintaining his distance was the best option, truly. No matter how deep the pain in his soul grew. He would survive this, just as he had everything up to now. (He was lying to himself, and he knew it, but damn if he come between you and his brother)

~

You'd been in a bit of a rush. Your friend had kept you later than you were supposed to be out. The lecture you were sure to get would only get worse for every minute you delayed. So in your rush, you'd thought to cut through one of the small side streets. This was a nice, quiet part of town, and there hadn't been any trouble in so long. Surely it would be fine. You should have known better.

The grip on your arm was bruising and unshakable. How was no one hearing you shout? They were speaking to you, taunting you, but their words didn't register through the fog of disbelief. Your heart dropped as you felt you foot slip, all advantage the little leverage you had lost.

“Pardon Me Miss, Are These Gentlemen Bothering You?” the smooth voice spoke up, startling you. You hadn't noticed anyone else approaching. One hand supported your lower back keeping you upright. The other had taken a tight grip on the wrist of the man holding your arm captive. Absently you noted the way his voice had shifted slightly on the word 'gentlemen'. You thought maybe you recognized it. His voice, the way he spoke, seemed familiar but you couldn't quite grab it. Everything felt so distant.

The man holding your arm went to speak but found himself quickly cut off, “I Do Believe I Asked The Lady.” His grip on the man's wrist tightened. You're attacker flinched and tugged his arm away, releasing you, and the new arrival let him. Wait. You're sure you know that voice. You shake your head slightly, trying to clear the fog.

He stepped around in front of you, blocking the other men's path, “I Suggest You Make You Way Home Now. It Would Be Unfortunate Should Someone Have To Inform Your Wife Of Your Unfavorable Behavior, Mister Miller.” The side street seemed to take on a reddish tint, lit by something you couldn't see. Your view of the man was partially blocked but you still managed to catch his stiff nod before he shuffled off, dragging his friends along with him. The grumbled and cursed as they left, and you couldn't help but feel a little bitter that this was how it ended. Surely they deserved worse? You shook your head, finally clearing enough to think properly. No, you were better than that. You wouldn't let yourself sink to their level.  

Your rescuer turned to face you, stepping a polite distance away, but staying within reach. Haze. That's right, Cirrus' brother. You'd never had a conversation with him before. You'd wanted to, something in you drawn to the refined skeleton. But somehow he was always busy. The one time you'd gotten the nerve to ask Cirrus about it, he'd only sighed and said his brother was an idiot.

His eyelights scanned over you, and his voice softened “Now Then, Are You Quite Alright My Dear?”

My dear? That was new. You blinked at him for a moment before releasing a deep breath. “Y-yeah. I. I think so. My arm will probably be bruised by tomorrow, but I think I'm alright.”

Humming he tilted his head, “Well, If You're Certain. I Must Insist On Escorting You Home. You Will Let Me Know If Anything Else Starts Hurting You.” Looking back up at the end of the street, he stepped closer, holding an arm aloft.

You slid your hand into the crook of his elbow. It felt comfortable. Right in some deeper way. “Thank you. For showing up like you did. I'd hate to think...” you trailed off, not wanting to think of the worst.

“I Only Wish I Could Have Been There Sooner. But You Can Trust That Nothing Like This Will Be Happening Again,” he seemed truly apologetic. You found that a bit ridiculous. Its not like he could have known.

“How can you be so sure? Men like that they. Well they don't change because of one interruption.”

He glanced down at you, smirk playing across his skull, “Accidents Happen, My Dear.”

Oh. Oh. You'd forgotten exactly who you were walking with. Cirrus had mentioned it once. How despite his gentile appearance, Haze was dangerous, and not to be underestimated.

“My Brother Shall Be Quite Distressed To Hear Of What Happened. I'm Sure He'll Want To Verify Your Well Being Himself.”

You hummed, “Yes, you're probably right. He's truly been a wonderful friend. I'll try to come by tomorrow. I'm sure he won't believe I'm fine if he can't see for himself.”

You almost missed the hesitation in his step, “Friend? I Know My Brother Can Be A Little... Slow To Open Up, But Surely He's Said Something By Now.”

“Said something...” You trailed off, furrowing your brow, “What do... Oh! Oh you don't mean? No no, its nothing like that. Cirrus is not interested in pursing me.”

Another hesitation. “Truly? I Had Thought. Never Mind. It Matters Not What I Thought.” You caught the barest trace of wistfulness in his voice. Maybe that's what Cirrus meant by stupid. Had he wanted to speak to you and didn't, on the belief his brother sought to be your suitor?

“Will I see you? Tomorrow?”

He took a moment before answering, a little more reserved “Perhaps. I Am Quite Busy.”

You allowed the disappointment to leak into your voice, “Oh. That's unfortunate. I had hoped to get the chance to speak to you more. I find myself enjoying your company.”

“Is That So?”

“Yes. I find myself comfortable with you. It feels, oh I don't know. Right somehow. I'm sure that sounds silly.” What were you even saying. You barely knew him! It was true though, and you hoped he didn't find your forwardness off putting.  

He seemed to take a moment to think before answering, “I'm Sure If You Were To Visit I Could Clear A Bit Of Time To Greet You. I Wouldn't Want You To Think Me A Poor Host.”

You smiled softly, “No, we couldn't have that.”

The rest of the walk to your home was quiet, but not awkward. Your family was quite upset at your late arrival and disheveled appearance, but Haze was able to settle everyone with careful reassurances. You spent the night full of nervous energy, anticipating your visit the next day.

And when you showed, Cirrus greeted you with anxious eyelights, hands trembling as they hovered just shy of touching. You assured him you were fine, nothing more than a couple bruises. Once he was sure you weren't lying he made his excuses and disappeared off somewhere. Likely needing a moment to calm himself.

And there was Haze. Waiting patiently. And when you'd comforted his brother, he made his approach. Greeted you politely. Escorted you to a sitting room, apologizing that he could only spare a few minutes. Several hours later you were still talking, and something in your chest settled. Soothed. You were looking forward to many more afternoons like this. And based on the soft smile that hadn't left his face, Haze was too.

[chellerbelles]

I was tagged by @pastellarts to share something of what I’ve been writing lately. Normally I ignore such things, but I can’t resist a good excuse to talk about my writing :) This is the most recently completed scene from the next story in my Irony series. I’m sorry to say this is in chapter 4. I had hoped to be further along by now. Actually, I had hoped to have this story done and be onto the next one by now. This story is being particularly stubborn, heh. Oh, FYI for those who have forgotten (it’s been that long since the last story, I wouldn’t blame you), or haven’t been reading this series: Rogue only has one arm (her left one). Also, Rogue’s Halloween costume in the scene below is a coffee mug.

Rogue pushed the foam portion of her new costume into the back of the car and shut the door. She got into the front passenger seat and looked at Pyro, while dressed in the patterned skirt and cream coloured asymmetrical shirt Kurt had made for her.

“Thanks for driving me,” she said.

“No problem,” Pyro replied as he started the car. “I’ve been interested in seeing the new studio anyway.”

Silence came as they headed off to the studio. Thing has been weird between them lately. He had  stopped calling her things like “race traitor” for well over a year now and the general antagonism had lessened. Still a wall remained between them, something Rogue couldn’t quite identify that was preventing them from becoming friends again.

“Why have you never wanted to get involved with the show?” Rogue asked after a time.

“Prancing around on a camera isn’t really my thing.”

“It’s not a lot of people’s thing. We always need writers though.”

“I’m sure, but I’m still not interested. I’ve got enough on my plate as it is.”

Rogue eyed him thoughtfully. “Like what? I mean, I know you have college and you train with the team but—”

“I have a bunch of writing projects I’m working on,” Pyro replied. “Be happy to tell you all about them once they’re published.”

“Ah, super secret writing projects. Gotcha.”

Not long later they arrived at the studio, and something of a commotion. In amongst the crew and the rest of the Cure Watch staff was Forge and a gorgeous woman with fabulous flowing blonde hair. Rogue frowned, seeing her. She figured it was Forge’s girlfriend, but she looked vaguely familiar.

“Is that… Ronnie Lake?” Pyro asked.

“Ronnie Lake,” Rogue repeated as they moved closer, the rest of her costume under her arm. “Isn’t she a supermodel or something?”

“Yep.”

They looked at each other, and continued their way forward to where Forge and his girlfriend were chatting with everyone. Forge soon spotted Rogue and waved at her.

“Hey Rogue, glad you’re here,” Forge said. “How’s it going?”

Rogue shrugged. “Eh, you know, the usual. You?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I’d like you to meet Ronnie,” Forge said with a gesture towards his girlfriend. “Ronnie, this is Rogue and…” he frowned towards Pyro. “Pyro?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Pyro replied, his eyes on Ronnie. “Pleasure to meet you. I’ve been a big fan of your work.”

“Well, thank you,” Ronnie said graciously. “Always nice to meet a fan.”

A goofy smile appeared on Pyro’s face. “And it’s real nice to see you. Wow, I can’t believe this. I remember when you had black hair. Blonde really works for you. Not that black doesn’t. You could rock anything. I’m sorry, I’m making a fool of myself, huh?” He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.” The goofy smile faded, his eyes still locked with hers. “I’m real sorry.”

“Not to worry, I get this a lot,” Ronnie said soothingly. “You, at least, know when to apologise, which is more than I can say about, well, most people actually.” She turned to Rogue and smiled warmly at her. “And Rogue, I’m very happy to finally get to meet you. Forge has told me all about you, and of course, I’ve been watching your show.”

“Oh, really?” Rogue asked, surprised that someone like Ronnie Lake would bother with their channel. “Wow. Oh, um, it’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m glad you could join us today.”

“I’m glad to be here. It’s not all pleasure, though. I’ve signed on to be a spokesmodel for Forge Industries.” Ronnie turned her smile on Forge, then looked back at Rogue, “so I’m going to be doing some promotional videos for you to put on your channel for DM Electronics.”

“Oh wow. That, that would be amazing.”

“Ahem. I’d hate to cut this short,” Morph said, his voice calling loudly over the crowd, “but we need to start.”

A whirlwind of activity followed. With Pryo’s help, Rogue got back into her coffee mug costume and joined Monte, Zeek, and Butterfly on the set. They were dressed up as a fireman, McCree from Overwatch , and Audrey Hepburn from Breakfast at Tiffany’s. As they review the brief for the episode, the crew finished off what they needed to do. Pyro sat with Forge and Ronnie off to the side where they could watch and not be in the way.

It wasn’t too much longer before they started filming. Rogue, Monte, Zeek, and Butterfly took their places on the lounges. On cue they welcomed everyone to their Halloween edition of Cure Watch. They showed off their costumes and went though the usual opening pleasantries, then finally got to the meat of the episode:

“The latest from Worthington Industries is that symptoms have been now reported in 56% of mutants from the trial,” Rogue said, her eyes on the camera. “But the really big news is that one mutant from the public distribution of the Cure has reported symptoms.”

“Just one that we know about,” Zeek said. “Obviously, these are early days yet, so that one mutant might legitimately be the only one so far. But not everyone who took the Cure last year has registered. There’s no obligation to do so, but if you do, the data we report will be more accurate.”

“Wow,” Butterfly said, and took a deep breath before continuing. “The first one. It’s finally started.” She looked around at her co-hosts. “I wonder how long it’ll be before we start showing symptoms.”

Rogue bit back the urge to say ‘hopefully never’.

“Has Worthington established how long it takes for a mutant’s powers to fully return, yet?” Monte asked with a frown, and he glanced towards Rogue.

Rogue shrugged. “I guess that process normally takes awhile, except for the one instance where the mutation came back all at once. After that, the shortest term reported was five months. It’s hard to give a range right now because symptoms appearing is so staggered. We don’t have recent numbers on exactly how many of those involved in the trial have their powers back completely. I guess because there aren’t many.”

[meowmeow-motherfucker]

Domesticity Interrupted

Summary: Dean and Austyn struggled to create a peaceful life after Sam went into the cage. They managed to do just that until their past came calling. DARK FIC

This fic is part of the Seven Deadly Sins fic challenge hosted by @siren-kitten-his . My choices were Envy, and Sam and Dean. Please, please read the tags and if it makes you uncomfortable, don't read. This fic is super dark and not at all what I initially planned it to be. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED

Content/trigger warnings: assault, panic, torture, attempted sexual assault, threatening behavior, mind games, name-calling, murder

    When Sam came back from hell without his soul, it made a lot of things easier. All the rules he’d lived by his whole life (be honest, protect innocent people, etc) were irksome, so Sam decided to follow his own rules. He did what he wanted, when he wanted, and to whom he wanted.

    Which is how he ended up tracking his brother and his longtime girlfriend all the way up to Maine. Sam (pre-Hell Sam, that is) had been foolishly in love with Austyn ever since they’d picked her up in Wyoming. Dean had been too, and of course Austyn chose the older Winchester, oblivious to Sam’s yearning for her. Maybe things would have been different if she’d known, but Sam would never know. 

    What he did know was that Austyn and Dean were playing house in Lowelltown, Maine, just across the border from Quebec. And he was going to pay them a visit.

                                                        ~/~

       Sam used to look up to his big brother. Wanted to be just like him. Thought he was the strongest, fastest, smartest son of a bitch to walk the earth. Looking at Dean’s unconscious form, tied to the dining chair, Sam thought his old self was an idiot. Dean Winchester had been easily duped, thrilled as he was to see his baby brother back among the living. He’d been real surprised when Sam took a swing at him, breaking his nose and making him stagger. It only took another hit to take him down, and about ten minutes to find some rope in the garage and tie Dean to the chair.

       Then he got to work.

                                                      ~/~

       The sound of a car approaching pulled Sam’s attention from his task. Perfect timing. He’d just finished setting things up the way he wanted. He heard the front door open and moved to the hallway, still out of sight but with a view into the kitchen where he’d left Dean tied up.

       “Babe, I’m home! Who’s car is out front?” he heard Austyn calling from the front door. “Babe?” Footsteps sounded in the living room, walking deeper into the house. A few more and she’d see Dean where Sam left him. “Dean?” More footsteps, and a shriek as Dean no doubt came into view. “Oh my god, Dean!”

       Sam peered around the wall to see Austyn on her knees in front of Dean, cradling his face and pleading with him to wake up.

       “Hello Austyn.” Austyn flinched at the sound of his voice, staring up at him in alarm.

       “Sam! What- How are you here?” he could see the wheels turning in her head. “You did this?” She looked so heartbroken at the idea that he’d intentionally set out to hurt Dean.

       “Barely took any effort. It was kind of embarrassing, actually.” Austyn made a noise of disgust, before shooting to her feet and making a mad dash toward the garage when the guns were locked in a safe.

       Which Sam had already emptied.

       He made no attempt to follow, knowing she’d have to come back through the house if she wanted to get out.

       A scream of outrage let him know that Austyn had discovered the empty safe.

       He hadn’t expected Austyn to start ripping into the storage boxes in the garage. He hadn’t thought to check those.

       He definitely hadn’t expected her to throw a fucking bear trap at him, or attack him with a baseball bat.

       Sam had to grudgingly admit he was impressed, and more than a little turned on. Austyn had always had a temper.

       He grunted when her swing hit his ribs, staggering a little when her fist connected with his face. She kicked him in the chest, screaming with pain when he caught her foot and twisted. She fell to the floor next to Dean, shoving the bat up toward Sam’s face like a spear when he bent down to grab her. He fell back, roaring with anger and pain when she cracked his nose. Holding his nose with one hand he pulled the bat from her grasp, throwing it aside and smashing a window. Austyn screamed, fingers tugging uselessly at Dean’s flannel when Sam hauled her up from the floor. She lashed out with her fists, blacking his eye and splitting his lip.

       “You really shouldn’t have done that,” Sam growled, carrying her down the hall and throwing her down on the bed. He moved to cuff her, punching her in the face when she clawed at his face with her nails. Austyn fell silent, her body going limp as she blacked out.

                                                   ~/~

      The overcast sun was in a different position when Austyn regained consciousness. She squinted against the bright light, turning her head away from the window. Her whole body hurt, and she went to stretch, freezing in fear as she remembered Sam knocking her out.

      “‘Bout time you woke up,” Sam said from his seat in the lounge chair. Austyn could see the lake through the bay window beside him. Normally she loved the view from her and Dean’s bedroom, but now she hated it. “It’s no fun if you’re asleep.”

      “Unconscious,” Austyn corrected. “You knocked me out.” Sam shrugged, a nonchalant dismissal of her biting tone.

      “Same difference.”

      “Where-” Austyn swallowed the lump in her throat. “Where is Dean?”

      “Oh, don’t worry about him,” Sam waved off her concern. “He won’t bother us.”

      “Did you kill him?” Austyn asked tearfully.

      “Nah. I did knock him back out though. He wouldn’t shut up, you know? ‘Sammy, stop.’ ‘Why are you doing this?’ ‘Don’t you hurt her, Sammy.’” Sam’s voice dropped into a deep register as he mocked his brother. “Got annoying after a while,” Sam shook his head. “You ever get tired of listening to his bullshit? That’s not important, just an errant thought. What is important, is the game we’re gonna play.”

      “You tied us up so you could play a game?” Austyn hissed.

      “It’s a truth-telling game. See, I’m gonna ask you questions, and you’re gonna be honest with me, or I’ll hurt you.”

      “And what happens when you’re out of questions?”

      “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it. And I mean what I said about being honest. Lie to me, and this will be the least of your worries,” Sam grabbed her injured ankle and tilted her foot, making her whimper in protest. “Aw, does it hurt? You gonna cry about it?”

      “Ask me your fucking questions!” Austyn groaned angrily. “Go ahead, Sammy.” Sam growled angrily at the nickname, pulling a knife from his jeans and brandishing it inches from the exposed skin of her midriff.

      “You ever think about me when you’re fucking Dean?”

      “What?!”

      “Remember what I said about lying, bitch,” Sam said darkly, pressing the cool blade against her skin. “Answer the question.”

      “No.” Austyn said firmly, crying out in pain when Sam sliced her skin.

      “Tell me the truth, Austyn.” Sam said calmly.

      “I just didfuuuuck!” The knife cut her skin again, Sam watching intently as she writhed and cried.

      “Next question.” he said calmly when she’d quieted down.

      “What do you think is gonna happen, Sam?” Austyn asked, grimacing through the pain of each breath. Every movement pulled at her bleeding skin. “You think you’re gonna ask your stupid questions and I’ll suddenly see the error of my ways and leave Dean for you?” she laughed. “What do you want me to say, huh? That I used to have a crush on both of you?”

      “I think that’s the most honest thing you’ve said all day,” Sam replied, a smirk tugging up the corner of his mouth. “Tell me more.”

      “There’s nothing more to tell.”

      “See, you’re lying again,” Sam chuckled, waving the knife at her in disapproval. He tipped her chin up with the blade, forcing her to meet his eyes. “Don’t push your luck,” he said, his tone bordering on gentle. “You wanna know what I think really happened?”

      “Don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

      “Good girl, you’re learning,” Sam praised, patting her head heavily. Austyn grimaced and turned away, grunting in pain when he pulled her hair painfully. “Look at me when I’m talking to you,” he snarled. “Where was I?” Austyn remained silent, glaring at him disdainfully. “You know, this isn’t any fun if you don’t talk back.” Austyn sighed.

      “You were about to tell me what really happened.” She said flatly, gasping when Sam slapped her across the face.

      “Keep up the attitude. I can hit you a lot harder than that,” Sam promised darkly as she probed her bleeding lip with her tongue. “As I was saying, I think you wanted both of us. But poor little Austyn couldn’t make up her mind, so she strung us both along until she finally did,” Sam’s hand shot out and grabbed her face roughly, forcing her to look at him. “Admit it, whore, you wanted me,” Austyn opened her mouth to speak but Sam held up a finger to stop her. “Make sure you speak up, so Dean can hear you.”

      “Maybe I did,” Austyn replied through her puckered mouth. “But I chose Dean. And I didn’t need you to prove I made the right choice, but damn if you didn’t do it.” She laughed through the pain, holding his gaze. Her laughter turned to screams of agony when Sam buried the knife deep in her thigh. She struggled to get free from Sam’s grip on her face, but he just held tighter, drinking in her agony as she screamed to the rafters.

      “Hear that, Dean?” Sam called mockingly. “Your girl is loyal to a fault.”

      “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch! You hear me?! I’ll kill you!” Dean thundered from the kitchen.

      “Dean!” Austyn whimpered in relief, overjoyed to hear that he was still alive. “Dean!” she sobbed. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

      “Aw, poor baby,” Sam mocked over her wracking sobs. “Can you hear her, Dean? She’s begging for you somethin’ fierce.”

      “It’s okay, baby, I’ll get us out! I’m comin’ for you!” Dean shouted, pulling against his restraints when Austyn screamed again. He could only imagine what Sam was doing to her. Sam had covered his head with some kind of bag, and the only sense he had was his hearing.

      “Good luck getting past the bear traps.” He heard Sam say. Austyn whimpered out a noplease that made Sam smile.

      “Tell you what, babygirl. You let me satisfy that burning curiosity of yours and I’ll set you free.”

      “What?” Austyn wheezed, eyes shining with tears as she looked up at him. The fear on her face was delightful.

      “Come on, Wyatt! What happened to that honesty?” Sam laughed.

      “It’s not Wyatt anymore, asshole.” She made a fist, the glittering on her left hand catching Sam’s attention.

      “Now, how did I miss that?” Sam asked. “I bet Dean’s matches, doesn’t it? How was it? Was it everything you hoped it’d be?” he sighed, pretending to swoon as he mocked her.

       “Except for you missing, yes,” Austyn scowled. “It broke his heart that you weren’t there. You should have been.”

       “And what about you, hmm? Did it break your heart too?” Sam asked, slicing another cut into her arm and making her grimace in pain.

       “It used to,” Austyn admitted. “But now I’m glad you weren’t, you hear me? I’m glad we listened to you and didn’t try to bring you back! How’s that for honesty?” She spat in his face. Sam shot back, grimacing as he wiped the moisture off his face.

       “Well there goes any chance you had of me being nice,” he sneered. Austyn laughed sarcastically. “Shut up.”

       “This is you being nice? God, if this is nice, I don’t want to see mean.”

       “No?” Sam leaned back over her, pressing the knife to her arm. “How about I slice open that vein and watch you bleed out while I fuck that pretty pussy?” Austyn whimpered, pressing her head into the pillow to get away from him when he loomed closer. Her stomach clenched in fear as he teased her flesh with the tip of the blade.

       “No.” she managed weakly.

       “‘No’? That’s all I get? ‘No’?!” Sam imitated her. “No sympathy for your recently-returned-from-the-dead brother in law? I’ve always wondered your pussy felt like. You know, tracking you two down was the first thing I did when I got back?”

       “Because you missed Dean?” Austyn suggested hopefully. She was holding out hope that if she kept Sam distracted long enough then Dean could escape.

       “Actually, no,” Sam ticked his head to the side. “My first thought was how you’d feel wrapped around my cock.”

       “Sammy, no!” Dean bellowed. “Whatever this is about you take it out on me; you let her go!”

       “You’re no longer part of this conversation, Dean!” Sam slammed the door with a thunderous crash, drowning out both Dean and Austyn when they called out for the other. “There, that’s better. Just you and me now, Wyatt,” he said, pulling off his heavy jacket. “Oh sorry, Winchester. Fuckin’ adorable.” His hands went to his belt and Austyn’s stomach dropped.

       “Oh god,” she whimpered, every muscle in her body squeezing with fright. “Sam, stop, you don’t wanna do this.”

       “I don’t?”

      “Whatever brought this on you’re still you, Sam. Deep down you      know    this is all kinds of fucked up.”

      “Hmm, no, don’t think so,” Sam shook his head. “See, in order to have a conscience, you gotta have a soul.”

      “You don’t have a soul? Is that what this is?” Austyn asked, pulling at her restraints anxiously when Sam stepped closer. “Sam, stop, please. We can help you, you know we can-” Sam pressed the knife against her cheek, stunning her into silence.

      “I don’t want your help.” He lingered for a moment, tracing the blade along her lower lip before turning away. Austyn swallowed, her throat burning with overexertion and the urge to cry.

      “You could have killed Dean and you didn’t. You showed him mercy.” She pressed. Sam actually laughed at her.

      “You think that was mercy?” he asked. “Oh Austyn...see, that’s what I always liked about you. Always so positive,” He sneered, cutting into her thigh and making her cry out in pain. “Mercy will come after.”

      “After what, Sam? After you kill me?” Austyn prodded.

      “I mean, it’s not exactly part of the plan, but if you happen to die, I can live with it. But Dean, oh Dean will. You see, when he sees what’s become of you, he’ll have no one to blame but himself. And right when he sinks into despair...BANG! That will be my mercy.”

      “Oh my god, you’re so fucked up!” Austyn shouted, tears of hopelessness wetting her hair and the pillow beneath her head as she sobbed. The bed dipped and her eyes flew open, centering on Sam’s hulking frame as he lumbered onto the bed. “Oh my god, no. Sam, no! Get the hell away from me!” she pleaded as his hands undid her jeans. “StopstopSamstoooop! I don’t want thisIdon’tIdon’t-”    Austyn’s voice failed her, her tearful scream for Dean trailing off as Sam tugged her jeans down her bloodied thighs.

          CRACK  

                 Clickpfwerrrrrsnick  

      A dart embedded in Sam’s neck, and Sam looked confused for a brief moment before his body sagged and he crumpled to the floor. Dean leaned heavily against the wall, breathing raggedly.

      “You okay baby? Please, god, please be okay.”

      “I’m okay,” Austyn sobbed in relief. “Dean!”

      “It’s okay, I got you,” Dean said soothingly as he reached for the restraints, with trembling fingers. “God, Austyn, I’m so sorry.”

       “What the fuck was that?!” Austyn asked hoarsely as she gingerly rubbed her sore and bleeding wrists.

       “Tranquilizer gun. S’enough in there to take down a moose,” Dean said. Austyn sagged against him in relief as he helped her sit up, clinging to him tightly as she cried. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay-”

       “Dean-”

       “I know, baby. I’m right here,” Dean soothed her, brushing the tears from her face gingerly as he fought back his own. “I got you.” Dean undid the cuff around her ankles, being extra careful with the one Sam had injured.

       Austyn wrapped her arms around his neck as soon as they were free, sobbing into his shoulder as he carried her from the house and out into the Impala.

       “Are you okay?” she asked weakly, cupping his face in her hand. “The bear traps-”

       “I’m fine. The bastard lied,” Dean shook his head. “Are you serious right now? You’re worried about me when you-” he scowled, burning tears tracking down his face. “God, I’m so fucking sorry.”

       “You didn’t do anything wrong, Dean!”

       “Are you kidding?” Dean scoffed. “I should have tested him, I should have fought back harder, I should’ve-”

       “Dean, you couldn’t have known. This isn’t on you.”

       “Yeah, well, I beg to differ. I’m supposed to keep you safe and I failed. I failed you, Austyn.”

       “You saved me, Dean,” Austyn corrected, kissing the back of his hand as she clutched it in hers. “What are we gonna do about- What are we gonna do?” she sniffled, wiping her face as she tried to focus. “If we leave he’s just gonna find us again.”

       “I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

       “How? He took all the guns out of the safe.” Dean scowled and reached under the drivers side of the bench seat, pulling out a 9 mm.

       “He missed this one.”

       “Dean.” Austyn stopped him. She knew what Sam meant to Dean. Despite what just happened, she didn’t want him to regret it if there was even a chance of Sam being Sam again.

       “Don’t look at me like that,” Dean shook his head. “That wasn’t Sam, okay? Look at what he did to you! You said it yourself; he’ll only track us down again if we leave him,” He checked the clip, setting the safety and stowing the gun in the back of his jeans before handing her the keys. “If I don’t make it out-”

       “Stop it,” Austyn shook her head. “I’m not leaving with you.”

       “Just take the goddamn keys, please? I need to know you’ll be safe. Okay? I have to.” Those green eyes shimmered and Austyn knew Dean would keep her safe if it was the last thing he ever did.

       “Okay.” she choked out.

       “Promise me.” Dean held out his pinkie and Austyn sobbed, unable to think about living a life without this stubborn idiot.

       “Promise.” she whispered, hooking her pinkie around his and laughing when he kissed her.

       “I love you.”

       “I love you more.”

       “Not possible.” Dean kissed her forehead and pulled away, shutting the car door behind him before walking back into the house.

       Austyn waited in tense silence, keys in the ignition and poised to start the car should Sam walk out the door.

       She knew it was coming, but she still screamed in anguish when she heard the gunshot.

[kurtty-drabbles]

Misfit au (the start)

N/A: I´d say redemption for characters is good if is earned, not every evil character should or can be the good guy, but, if DC can make Harley the good guy...why not the others?

@djinmer4 @sailorstar9 @dannybagpipesarecalling @discordsworld @look-ma-no-hands336

The weather is humid and is giving the impression of noir, as someone is running from prison, which, ironic, is the perfect feeling for this night to a certain group. The government of the US is sending their top agents to retrieve the fugitive, dead or alive, sadly for them, the fugitives are still missing.

"Miss Weller" the captain is talking with his boss "the Suicide Squad is still unknown" the captain speak uneasily as the general and the other men are searching in the dark for something that may be already out of the state, only God can know what those freaks can do.

"Captain Smith, retrieve your men right now, at this point, find them will be impossible, let´s clean our steps" is a silent order with many implications and the Captain understand what his real command is as the man shoot the scientists and their assists.

"The operation is cancelled" the Captain explained as many scientists are shoot "there´s no register of Suicide Squad"

Meanwhile, the fugitives are in the sewer, much to their dismay, the old cliche of comic books ended up saving their lives. Columbina, Blink, Ice Woman, Polaris, War Path and Croc Man are walking in the sewer and watching rats and crocodiles(an Urban Legend, but, this is New Gotham) alike without caring.

"So" Columbina  speaks breaking the silence "we went to magical electroshock that should have killed us, but, manage to take the chip in our minds, without giving any sequela, and we´re here...in the sewer, full of dirty water" Columbina speaks as she has a hard time to believe in anything that just happened, well, in a sense, Columbina needs to believe in order to keep her sanity.

Polaris, being the one with any source of light, as the sewer was never designed to have light, even in New Gotham " No, what impressed me is the someone design this" she points the sewer " to be bigger enough to any person or meta-human to walk freely, but, they refuse to put lights"

"Sometimes, we got to wonder," Columbine said "how self-aware is New Gotham truly is"

Tori only sighs and complains about taxes. "Seriously, I do my taxes for that?!"

Blink intervene "we´re under the Suicide Squad, no one pays taxes, ironically, this has to be the only advantage the government ever give to us"

Warpath watches the two women complain about taxes and government, as Kitty is finding amazing how they went through electroshock and their hair doesn´t even look messy. And Dr Croc really wants a beer.

"What" the Apache man speaks gaining the attention of the others " we will do now? Return for our old lives? Do we have this option?"

Kitty said nothing, neither did Polaris, as the green haired woman only speaks one line "I´m looking at a door, in the fucking sewer, and I can only say, only in New Gotham"

The silence rules of the group and the future is uncertain, Warpath is musing about the experience and the uncertainty of everything makes too real, freedom was a vague dream, and now, she´s offering many, many possibilities.

Freedom is at their hands and they still smell like they just get out of a sewer, well, they really did. And now, Polaris and the others are planning on what to do, New Gotham is dark now, and the sounds of sirens can be heard, is for them or for someone else?

People wearing hoods show up, speaking in a dialect that is akin to Chinese, Kitty deduces as she used to study languages before...Suicide Squad and the hood figures show weapons and are ready to fight.

Collective all they speak one thing. "Only in New Gotham" and quickly they all begin to fight with the hood figures, who, of course, know all the martial arts and magic one can think of, in the end, Suicide Squad wins over the hood figures as Columbina used her hammer to finishes the last enemy.

No blood or guts was meet, instead, only sand is left on the floor. "So, sand people are real?" Columbina asked and before she could receive an answer they are transported to a mansion.

Tori only sighs as she points out they are still in New Gotham, of course, in the Magical part. "When you´re rich why stay in the non-magical part of New Gotham? I hate rich people" Tori aka Ice Woman complains and War Path wonders what´s real anymore.

"Ah, finally, the Suicide Squad arrives" a new voice jolts them and they take a step back as Ra Al Ghoul is drinking wine and looking at them as a good host, everyone knows who Ra Al Ghoul is. Never make an enemy of this man. "Oh, please, don´t be afraid, if I´d want you dead you would be dead already"

"Thanks, that really breaks the ice," Kitty said and Tori resents that line. "But, why are we here?"

"I´ll explain, but, first, Lorna Dane Lesher, I owe you the biggest apology I can give " this surprise everyone, including Lorna herself, as no one expected this. Deep down, they are all thinking if Columbina is right and maybe the dirty water and the electroshock are a bad combination.

"Judge by all your confusing faces, I better explain myself, Lorna, your father, Erik Lesher was a good friend of mine, Magneto, the master of Magnetism, and when you went to live with your family by your mother´s side, Magneto asked me to keep an eye on you, you see," Ra paused for a moment and continues "he had many enemies and he wanted you, his only daughter, to be saved and have a normal life, I did the best I could, but, I was a fool to not think the government wouldn´t use someone with your abilities and for that I apologise" Ra finishes his speech and Lorna has no idea what to say. Lorna looks at Kitty and asked her, with her green eyes pleading and only that, to do something.

"Look," Kitty said "we went through hell, maybe you had seen many versions of hell" Ra agree he did, Kitty is not surprised "but, offer sand people to kill and apologies will do shit to our situation, we had no life, and nothing to grab on reality...I can´t speak by the others, but, I want revenge or justice, whatever appropriate word is need here, against the monsters who used me as a weapon, I want to kill them, and I´d not think you want to help us"

"But, Miss Pryde...I´d want to help" Ra speaks offering a smile "You all want to murder, and I can sympathise with revenge, but, I can give more than a shiny weapon, well, no one here needs a weapon, I can give you a cover"

Lorna now speaks, still shocked(in more ways than another) about the revelation and is gazing at Ra Al Ghoul "how can you help us?"

"And what this will cost us?" Kitty adds as no one would give big favour for free, especially someone like Ra Al Ghoul.

"I can give you the perfect cover, now, for the price...I just want everyone´s discretion" he offers in a velvet tone and the others take a minute to consider the option.

"Well, when the devil makes an offer and we have no other option and we just defeat sand people, why not?" Kitty said shrugging comically. Lorna has still no concrete idea of what to think right now, her father passed away and still surprises her even in the grave.

3 years later, one of the popular shows is "You´re wrong" is the most popular Talk show in the history of TV, only losing to "sketch TV" a show that introduces the news how people like and the fans and haters often point out many of the greatest or worst moments of the program, often using each moment to prove journalism is dead or is doing alright.

Few realize that Sketch TV is not a channel of journalism, is a comedy show, lead by Kitty Pryde, Tori Drake and Lorna Dane, Clarice Fong, James Jonathan Proudstar and Eric “Croc” James

"Ryder, careful" Vera speaks drinking her cup of coffee "you can be overshadowed by this Sketch TV"

"Vera, they are a comedy show," Ryder said a bit amused, but, as he´s looking at some of the old sketches, Kitty giving details about how a person can steal a diamond, something clicked in his mind "but life is a comedy" and he is off to investigate and prepare his next news.